smile on you forever…”
The captain clung desperately to one ring of cartilage. His feet dangled over what appeared to be a bottomless drop into the Hydra’s stomach. And a thin leather thong around his neck held a key of gleaming gold.
Kratos let out a little more chain, stretching down with one enormous hand. Tears streamed from the captain’s eyes. “Bless you,” he kept saying. “Bless you for coming back for me!”
Kratos’s hand closed on the leather thong. “I didn’t come back for you,” he said, and gave the thong a sharp yank that snapped it in two-and broke the captain’s grip on the cartilage. His screams as he fell ended abruptly when he splashed into the Hydra’s churning stomach.
When Kratos walked back out of the dead Hydra’s mouth with the key in his hand, he could still hear the captain being digested. Kratos paused by the base of the mast on which the master head was impaled; a few strokes of the Blades of Chaos snapped the mainmast off at the root, and the great beast slid back over the rail and sank forever from the sight of men.
Kratos weighed the key in his hand. This had been a lot of work just to open a door. The fight had better be worth the reward.
FOUR
“YOU GAVE KRATOS a sliver of your own rage!” Ares’s fist clutched the hilt of his sword. The muscles corded on his forearm as he fought to control his towering rage. “To help a mortal-against your own family?”
“If ever again you think to befoul my realm with any of your Typhon-spawned monsters, they will be destroyed.” Poseidon’s voice was as cold and dark as his seas’ uttermost depths. “And you, nephew, are not immune from retribution. My brother forbids murder among the gods, yes-but do not tempt my anger, or you will wish I had killed you. Do you understand?”
Ares loosened his blade in his scabbard. “Words are no armor against the edge of a sword.”
“Remember this, God of War: I am sovereign over the seas. Any who enter my domain must do honor to me. Even gods.”
The two gods glowered at each other upon Egypt’s Mediterranean shore. Invisible to mortal eyes, they both stood tall enough that they could have leaned upon the Lighthouse of Pharos as if it were a walking stick.
Ares finally broke the silent battle of wills. “We need not feud in this fashion.”
“Your Hydra-”
“My Hydra, yes,” Ares said. “But troubling your seas? I did not set the Hydra upon your realm.”
Poseidon blinked. “Is this truth?”
“Tell me this, my lord uncle. Who brought you news of this Hydra? That scheming bitch Athena, I wager.”
“Why… yes,” Poseidon admitted. “But-”
“And did you know of its presence before she scuttled up to trick you into giving your power to her pet?”
“Trick me-”
“You know I no longer frequent Olympus, not as long as my father continues to indulge every petty fancy of my sister. Being so far away, I sometimes cannot counter her lies before they fall upon trusting ears.” The God of War leaned close to his uncle, so close that the flames of his hair drew steam from the sea god’s beard. “Ask yourself, my lord uncle, ask yourself only this. Why?”
The sea god did not respond, but a thoughtful cloud gathered upon his brow.
“Why would I offend your sovereignty? Why would I befoul your seas? What could I possibly hope to gain?”
“To kill this Kratos. That’s what Athena said.”
“And if I had commanded this Hydra to do so, why would I direct it to lurk at the Grave of Ships? Did I merely hope that Kratos might someday find his way there?” Ares snorted. “I hardly need summon a Hydra to dispose of Kratos. He is less than a worm. When I want Kratos dead, I will crush him as a mortal might snuff a burned-out taper. He still lives only because his suffering amuses me.”
“But… if it was not you who inflicted the Hydra upon my kingdom
…”
“I do not presume to accuse,” Ares said. “But who has gained from this encounter? Who has made you turn your majestic face from me? Who has defrauded you of power simply to flatter some mortal maggot?”
Poseidon backed off a little and eyed his warlike nephew. “I cannot take back the rage given to Kratos.”
“This I know too well,” said the God of War. “A god with your sense of honor would never take what was given. But I am not asking this of you. I am here, my lord uncle, only out of respect for you. I know that you still have a certain… affection for the city of Athens.”
“That place.” The sea god snorted.
“Zeus forbids direct battle between gods-but as you so lately warned me, there are other forms of retribution. My armies march on Athens at this very hour.”
“Why come to me?”
“As a courtesy, Uncle. I know that once you thought to have that city as your own. Should it be your will, I will leave Athens standing without so much as a scratch. If, indeed, you decide that all Athena has spoken is truth and all I have spoken is lies, I will not protest. I am not, as every Olympian knows, remotely so good a liar as my sister.”
Poseidon took a breath, so deep that it changed the Mediterranean’s currents as far north as Crete. Finally he said, “I do not know which of you is deceiving me-or if you both are. But… that city is no concern of mine. Burn it to the ground and salt the earth, for all I care.” And with a gale’s roar, he was gone.
Ares’s cruel lips bent toward a smile behind his beard of flame. “I will, Uncle. I will do exactly that,” said the God of War, and he rode the winds toward Athens.
IN HER CHAMBERS upon faraway Olympus, Athena dashed her hand into the scrying pool she’d been using to spy upon her brother. She slapped at the ambrosia-tinctured liquid as though she could reach through it and strike Ares and Poseidon both. And when she stopped and paused to listen, she could hear the faint cries of her worshippers, far below in Athens, supplicating for her mercy and support as Ares’s monstrous legions drew in over the horizon and the God of War himself strode among them, ordering them to battle.
And with Ares upon the field, the Word of Zeus prevented her from meeting this peril personally.
Her lips thinned to a line as her anger rose. Poseidon had no cause to turn on her this way. At least her uncle did not actively support Ares. Perhaps…
Yes. She might still turn this to her advantage.
Without the interference of Poseidon, Kratos could sail to her beleaguered city in mere days. To again put Kratos in the position to frustrate Ares’s plans seemed like an equitable solution-but the days his travel would require might well be days her city could not spare. How Ares would make her worshippers suffer!
Athena hurried from her chambers to the Hall of Eternity, down which she strode crisply until she reached the branch she sought. Along this corridor she walked more cautiously, treading softly as the marble gave way to finely trimmed grasses. Fawns nibbled at ivy at the edge of her vision, and soon she stepped out into an airy glade locked in perpetual summer. Athena stood perfectly still, waiting to be acknowledged.
Artemis did not like to be startled, and that bow of hers never missed.
Soon a rustling of leaves came from a myrtle bush nearby. The goddess Artemis stepped forth, suddenly visible as though she had materialized on the spot. With her bow slung over her shoulder and a quiver at her waist, she looked every bit the Huntress of the Gods.
Athena lowered her head formally. “Greetings, Artemis, my sister.”
The huntress only looked her over curiously. She had never been much for formality. “I expected my twin.”
“Is Apollo near? I would welcome his arrival. Matters are grave, and the wisdom of the God of Enlightenment would be welcome.”
Artemis maintained that curiously expressionless stare, as though Athena might be a hart to which the
