1304 The Harbinger (The 13th Floor) (4 page)

BOOK: 1304 The Harbinger (The 13th Floor)
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It was easier to launch herself off a high place, but with a few powerful flaps, Meira rose with Sam’s soul clutched in her feet.

He’d called her an angel with love in his eyes, but once he regained his senses and found out the truth, he’d never look at her like that again. The wind brushed away her tears as she carried the man she loved to be a toy in a game for gods.

CHAPTER 5

 

Not only was the entire council of elder gods seated on their thrones, but the arena was full of spectators. A hero’s challenge was a rare thing, but Meira had no doubt that many of them were there to see her humiliation as well.

At the palace’s entrance, she’d been instructed to bring Sam to the coliseum. He’d been silent with his shock the entire flight. Even as Meira gently placed him on the ground in front of the dais that supported Zeus and Hera’s thrones, Sam still behaved as if he were dead. Usually when she took a soul, the body was already dead. This was an extraordinary case, and linked to his body, she wondered if Sam could participate in the challenge.

The stadium was huge and the ground was covered with fresh sand to cover the mess from the previous night’s entertainment. Stacked to one side were skateboarding ramps. The new gods used the place as a skate park when other events weren’t being held.

Meira stepped back from Sam and bowed to the gods. A thousand pairs of eyes were on her. She didn’t rise and wouldn’t until the Thunder God gave her permission.

Zeus was dressed in a royal blue suit. His tie was a deep gold, reminding Meira of a tip of a lightning bolt. Beside him, Hera was wearing a glorious blue gown. Lighter in shade than her husband’s and accented with silver. Gems glittered on her fingers, around her neck, and in her ears. But the shoes. A Prada Neiman Marcus design. Studded suede ankle-wrap sandal pumps. Divine.

On Hera’s other side, Ares smirked at Meira from his seat. He wore a black military uniform augmented with leather and studs. His jacket hung open leaving his torso bare to show off his tattoos. A glint of light caught something on his chest, suggesting one nipple might be pierced.

Aphrodite fanned herself on the throne beside her brother and consort. Her outfit couldn’t be considered anything more than a piece of gauze. The only thing that left anything to the imagination was the fact her legs were crossed. Beautiful, blond, and busty, she was every bit as cunning as the other gods.

Her husband Hephaestus sat on her left. The burly god’s gaze was fixed on Sam. He didn’t even acknowledge Hebe when she came from behind and offered to refresh his goblet. Hebe shrugged and continued along the line with her pitcher.

Sitting tall in her throne, Athena was in the seat next to her father’s. She watched Sam with the same interest as Hephaestus. She shot Dionysus an irritated look when he pulled a nymph onto his lap, laughing and spilling his wine onto the naked nymph. She giggled and whispered something to him that made him look like he was ready to leave his place and take his pleasure elsewhere.

Hermes, Apollo, Artemis. Two great arms of gods stretched out from the center where Zeus and Hera sat. Most of them were focused on the show already, but everyone quieted when the Thunder God spoke.

“Samuel Wright, rise and kneel before me.” Zeus’ voice boomed through the arena. The echo rumbled like thunder.

Sam blinked and rolled to his knees. With jerky movements, he rose and went down to one knee. Color was returning to his form, and everyone could see every inch of it. Souls didn’t come dressed, after all. They also did not bear the wounds of their death. No shredded flesh or gory hole on his neck.

Meira peered at him out of the corner of her eyes. She wondered if he thought he was dreaming or if he even realized what was going on at all. Right after death, souls usually weren’t coherent. The shock was a lot for them. A god could return sense to them, as Zeus did so now with Sam, but part of her wanted Sam to not return to his self, so that he wouldn’t see the truth of what she was.

A lightning bolt blasted that hope. Small and quick, it lanced through Sam. He gasped and arched his back. The sheen of shock now gone from his eyes.

“Where am I?” Sam shot to his feet and stood in a defensive position. He glanced down at his naked form, flushed, but made no move to cover up. He didn’t have a thing to be ashamed of. His gaze fell on Meira to his left. “Meira?”

Meira turned her head away and didn’t say anything. She hadn’t even been given permission to rise yet. There would be no tolerance for even the slightest misstep, and she didn’t want the gods’ displeasure with her taken out on Sam.

“Meira, what’s wrong? What’s going on?” Sam took a step toward her and there was a boom of thunder.

“Samuel Wright.” Zeus rose from his throne and demanded everyone’s attention. “Welcome, hero. Tonight we celebrate in your honor.”

Cheers erupted from the stands. Feet pounded and cameras flashed. Some chanted, “Zeus, Zeus, Zeus.”

The Thunder God held up his hand to silence the crowd. “You’ve been chosen to compete in a challenge to win the claim of your soul and a boon of your choice. Your challenge will be split into three parts: strength, wit, and will. Every great hero must have all three.”

Not just one challenge, but truly three. Meira hid her wince. She should’ve expected something like this from Zeus. He was clearly determined to have his show and keep his claim.

“I’m dead?” Sam’s brows furrowed and his voice was low. He glanced at himself again. “I saved the woman and her daughter from those creatures.”

“You sacrificed yourself for another. A true hero.” Zeus clapped and the audience joined in, creating a different sort of thunder. “And you’re not quite dead yet. Let’s say for simplicity’s sake you’re in suspension. If you win, you can return home alive and well. If you lose, you are mine.”

“And what about Meira? Is she dead too? I want her returned alive no matter what happens.” Sam reached to put a hand on her shoulder.

Zeus flicked his hand and flung Meira backward out of Sam’s reach. She managed to keep on her knees, but scraped them up doing so. Minor stings to the one that lashed over her heart. Even with his own soul on the line, Sam only thought of her. The weight of the truth made it difficult for her to breathe.

“Meira is alive and she is home. She already belongs to me.” Zeus said with force. “Meira, tell him what and who you are.”

Meira swallowed, mouth suddenly dry as the sands of the moon, and closed her eyes as she spoke. “I am a harpy. I am my master’s faithful servant.”

“A what?” Sam’s question could barely be heard even by her ears.

“Tell him what you are. What you truly are.” Hera stood beside her husband, hands on her hips.

“I am a harpy. My master’s faithful servant.” Meira said it louder this time, toes curling with it.

“You are your master’s dog.” Hera spat. “He says fetch and you get it. She’s lied to you all along, hero. She’s the reason you’re here. She’s a pathetic bitch.”

If anyone else had ever talked to her this way, Meira would rip out her tongue. If it were only her own life on the line, she’d be very tempted to do so. But Hera wasn’t stupid. She knew where Meira’s heart lied. Sam would pay the price for any such action.

As much as she hated it, Meira said nothing.

It was Sam who wiped the smug smile off Hera’s face. “I’m here because I risked my life to save some people. I made the choice, and I would do it again in the same situation. The only role Meira played is in actually transporting me here. I don’t blame her for that as she was obviously following orders. Orders, as anyone with eyes can see, she’s not happy with.”

A ripple of gasps went through the crowd. No one talked to Hera in that manner. Meira had to bite her bottom lip so she wouldn’t laugh out loud.

Power swirled in Hera’s hand, and when she raised it, Zeus grabbed her by the wrist. He glared at her and whispered a word. Though Meira couldn’t hear what it was, she knew exactly what he said.

“Mine.”

Hera yanked her arm free and turned up her nose. With a dramatic swirl of her skirt, she returned to her throne.

“Brave as you are, young hero, it matters nothing whether my servant is happy with her orders or not. But that’s not your concern. Meira,” Zeus said and beckoned to her. “Come sit here at my feet.”

Though the Thunder God’s claim on her was already clear, it seemed he was going to make certain that everyone knew her place. Rising, Meira walked forward with her head bowed. Meekness didn’t suit her, but making sure Sam stayed safe did.

There were some shouts and laughter from the stands. The gods and their creatures weren’t known for their sweet tongues. Being called a dog was the least of the insults.

As she passed Sam, his fingers grazed her wing. “You still look like an angel to me.”

Meira wanted to throw her wings around him and kiss those wonderfully sweet lips. A million insults were nothing compared to what Sam said.

Her heart was still thumping hard when she climbed onto the dais and sat at Zeus’ feet. Only then did she raise her head enough to look at Sam. Naked and glorious. She wanted to do a lot more than just kiss him.

“Shall I tell Hebe to get you a bowl of water, dog?” Hera’s snark chipped at Meira’s temporary elation.

Meira didn’t look back. Her gaze stayed fixed on Sam.

“Let’s not wait any longer!” Zeus shouted and the cheers burst forth. “First, a test of strength.”

The ground shook as a bump of earth rose at the far end of the stadium. The stands split and separated, opening like arms. The bump grew to become a hill. A very tall and wide hill with a flat top.

With a second lesser tremble, the bottom of the hill spit out a boulder. A rock taller than Sam. It wobbled on its spot and then went still.

“A simple task, hero. Push the boulder to the top of the hill.”

CHAPTER 6

 

Meira hissed and gnashed her teeth. This was a task one might expect Heracles to do, but not a mortal like Sam. He’d be lucky to get the boulder to move a few feet, and none of that would be uphill.

While the crowd exploded with their excitement, Meira turned to the Thunder God. “Father, please, you know he has no strength other than that of a normal mortal.”

“Have you no faith in your lover?” Hera chuckled.

“Meira does have a point, Father.” Athena turned her cool gaze to Zeus. “It’s unfair to have your hero beaten even before he begins. I know you want your show, and to do so, you must give him a chance of success.”

Hera glared at the Goddess of Wisdom and turned to snatch a goblet of nectar from Hebe as she walked by. Hebe nearly dropped the tray she was carrying and scowled at the back of her mother’s head before she disappeared behind the thrones.

“You do make a fine point, daughter.” Zeus nodded and the boulder shrank in size. Still a big chunk of rock, but no longer about one ton.

Meira wanted to protest again, but she was lucky not to be reprimanded for the first time. Sam was in shape, but asking any mortal to push a stone of that size up a hill was impossible. She mentally kicked herself for thinking this challenge would be fair. What had she believed? That it would consist of a wrestling match or a quiet game of chess?

She turned her attention back to Sam who was surveying the hill. His face was hard with serious thought. He walked over to the boulder, stepping on a sharp rock near it and hopped on the uninjured foot.

Sam turned to face Zeus. “May I ask for some shoes or boots? And maybe a pair of pants?”

Giggles filled the arena and a few perverted catcalls. Sam ignored them, but Meira thought she saw some color rise to his cheeks. He was a man comfortable with his body, but she did so love that he was a modest one as well.

Zeus chuckled and shrugged. “If you wish.”

A pair of knee high black boots and tan pants that hung low on Sam’s hips appeared. He nodded a thank you and resumed his examination of the boulder. Walking around it, he then tested the ground with the toe of his boot.

Sam tried pushing the rock facing forward, but it moved only a foot. Putting his back to it, he moved it farther, but it was clear he wasn’t going to be able to get it up the hill.

“Looks like your hero is a flop, Father.” Ares laughed and downed the rest of his drink. He yawned—so obviously fake—and leaned back in his throne, closing his eyes.

Meira didn’t waste energy glaring at him. Ares always antagonized his father. He antagonized everyone as he thrived on conflict. Zeus prickled and huffed, unbuttoning his suit jacket.

“If you want your hero to do something faster, torture the dog. Her screams will motivate him.” Hera said it with a bored casualness that made Meira cringe even more than if it had been yelled or sneered.

“Is it always about torture with you, Mother?” Hephaestus shook his head.

“When something works, you stick with it.” Hera snipped.

“Don’t discount the hero yet. Look.” Athena gestured, and all the gods’ attention returned to Sam.

Meira’s eyes widened, and she sat up a little more as if it would give her a better view. Sam was plucking boards and blocks of wood from the skateboarding ramps. He brought over his materials and then returned to drag over a gentle sloping ramp. He pushed the boulder up about five feet and kicked the blocks of wood under it to hold it in place. Then he positioned the ramp.

When Sam removed the blocks, the boulder rolled down the ramp and up the other side to a flat spot he had put more blocks. It was only another five feet up the hill, but he was getting it closer to the top. With a quiet diligence, he set the whole thing up again to repeat the process.

The bored chatter in the stands turned more enthusiastic. Bets were being called, and Meira could hear a good many were in Sam’s favor. She found herself smiling, feeling a great pride in the man she loved. Sam had brawn, but he’d far more brains and heart.

After ten minutes, she glanced over her shoulder at Zeus who had refreshed his drink and was grinning broadly. Hera silently fumed, fingers drumming on the arm of her throne. She then raised her hand to her nose and sneezed. One of those pretty little lady-like sneezes that sounds like a mouse’s squeak.

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