And Sisyphus was a demigod—half Titan, half mortal—so, close enough.
She had not, however, lingered in Korinth long enough to see the results. Doing so might have aroused suspicion, which would have proved disastrous for Athene’s mission and even worse for Kirke. Hephaistos might have seized her with impunity, and she could not imagine her father doing aught save despairing in impotent fury. Perhaps he would have sent Phaethusa or one of Kirke’s other half-siblings to plead for her release, but those pleas would have fallen upon deaf ears, and Father would have let the issue lie.
Athene met her in her palace’s vestibule, arms folded over her chest.
“It is done,” Kirke said.
Word came, some two months later, that Sisyphus had slaughtered the entirety of his guests at a symposium over some trifle. Oh, the stories conflicted about what started it, some claiming it was an argument over Urania’s Analogy, while others argued it sparked someone claiming to be able to best Sisyphus in pankration. Either way, Kirke had never imagined her actions would lead to the deaths of a score of people, some no doubt innocent.
Almost, it was enough to make her wish she had never come to Kronion.
But Athene summoned her to her private chambers, and Kirke found her half-sister staring into a basin of water as though it might talk to her. The Olympian didn’t even seem to notice when Kirke entered, so for a moment, she waited, watching.
And Athene, she just kept gazing into the waters as if … Oh.
Oh! Kirke had spent enough time amid Oracles to recognize attempts at hydromancy when she saw them. Kirke herself relied upon oneiromancy, but hydromancy was more common. Their family had a gift for the Sight, and Athene was clearly trying to refine hers.
From the vexed look upon her sister’s face when she rose, it seemed she still lacked control over her abilities. Given their differences in their methods, Kirke couldn’t offer much advice, nor was her own Sight all that strong.
Athene beckoned her to sit, and Kirke joined her by the hearth. When she had settled, her sister settled her gaze upon Kirke. “I was trying to see if I could view just what happened in Korinth,” the woman admitted.
Ah, well shit. Trying to keep her expression blank proved a struggle. “And?”
“It appears Sisyphus has taken a draught of Nectar.”
Kirke’s palms began to sweat. “Oh, yeah, well I had heard about it spreading wildly in Korinth of late. One cannot be surprised, really. Men would do aught for the chance to improve their health and extend their lives, to say naught of the sexual benefits, and we cannot really blame them, now, can we? I mean they truly are very short lives, and so full of pain. If something can alleviate either issue, well then … we …”
Athene had fixed her with so stern a glare Kirke found it took the sum of her willpower to keep from fidgeting. Had her sister seen more in that bowl of water than Kirke had first imagined? Had the Sight revealed the nature of Kirke’s duplicity? “I asked you to bring about his downfall.”
“Yeah, well, he’s pretty far fallen now. If the kin of those he murdered haven’t burned down his estate yet, I imagine it’s only a matter of time, right? That’s how it goes with the powerful. People idolize them and worship them until they get a glimpse at their heroes, then they see the blemishes and suddenly, it’s all, ‘kill the wretches!’, right? Having kin murdered gets people all riled up like that.”
Now, Athene leaned forward. “How did you get the Nectar, Kirke?”
What if … what if Athene could actually be an ally against the other Olympians? If she already knew about Kirke’s actions, then Kirke’s only chance here might lie in swaying Athene to her side. In making her an accomplice. “Ah, hmm. Yeah, I can adjust the dosage so it might enhance your Sight. I mean, there would be risks, you know? There’s always risks with these things, but it may allow you to see more, and farther than you ever imagined.”
“Nyx …” Athene gasped. “You didn’t buy, you made it.” The gray-eyed Titan slumped backward. “My half-sister has been making Nectar.”
And far better for Kalypso if Athene thought it was all her. Maybe the other Nymph wouldn’t have to join her in Tartarus.
“It can give you your vengeance,” Kirke prompted, words rushing from her mouth. “Imagine if you could know the past and future. It’d be like … like how Oracles used to go to Delphi to learn from Themis. Only, they weren’t so much learning from her as drawing strength from Python, back before Apollon slew the drakon. Well now, now, you want to refine your Sight, you either have to go through him—and we both know you won’t like whatever price he charges—or through me, and I’ll give it freely, sister. And you’d see everything you needed to, and more.”
The thing about rage was, sometimes it blinded a person. Sometimes she couldn’t see aught else, no matter how close it was. Maybe that was why the sly grin spread over Athene’s face. Maybe she imagined herself feeding that rage with Oracular visions that would allow her to outmaneuver the Kreiads at every turn.
And maybe, just maybe, the Nectar would even do that.
It too must carry a price.
23
Pandora
201 Golden Age
Nestled in the boughs of an old oak tree, Pandora watched a young Zeus pass beneath her, almost choking on her own rage at this vile creature. This boy who would grow into a monster that spread suffering in his wake like a trail of snail slime. This arrogant, solipsistic abomination who thought the whole of the cosmos existed in service to his petty desires.
She could change all that with a knife in his throat.
Zeus trudged about the forest, hunting for her, no doubt imagining what torments he might visit upon her
