Destined (10 page)

“You’re lucky you don’t end up homeless after that stunt you just pulled.” She shook her head. “I never thought the distant attention would make you so brazen. Or maybe it’s Aphrodite. Do you think you actually
are
her daughter now?”

“Of course not.” I flopped back against my bed. “She hates me after refusing her son. I haven’t seen her since the day of the announcement.”

She paced the length of my room, muttering almost to herself. “Well that explains the lack of a proposal, at least. You angered the goddess of love and she’s denying you a husband. It’s pretty obvious.”

I’m glad she thought so, because it’d taken me awhile to figure it out.

When she halted, her dark emerald eyes bore into me, full of anger and disappointment. “I used to think I knew you so well. But I don’t get you at all anymore. It’s like you’ve considered every reasonable action and then done exactly the opposite.”
 

“Eros was a jerk and he talked to Aphrodite like she was a dish rag. If any of those men down there talked to you like that, I’d refuse to marry them too.” I felt hot tears welling up in my eyes again.

“And if you mean tonight, I’m scared, okay? I’m pretty sure Aphrodite hates me after…” I pressed my fingertips against my eyes as I thought. “When Krios said none of the men would marry me, I panicked.”
 

“Oh, Psyche,” Mother sighed as she sank down next to me on the bed and wrapped me in her arms. “I know what it’s like to be young and impulsive.” She gave me an extra squeeze. “Trust me, I do. But at the end of the day, discretion is the better part of valor.”

I cracked one eye open to peer at her and make it very clear I had no idea what she was talking about.

“Keep your mouth shut,” she answered. “If you make a mistake, move on. Don’t go spreading the news across Greece. It insights gossip and eventually hurts those you love the most.”

My muddled brain knew enough to register that she was speaking from experience, but I didn’t have the energy to pry. Instead, all I could think was how her advice was to continue keeping secrets when all I wanted to do was bare my soul.

“So tell me what to do now. I’m lost.” I blinked and a warm, salty tear escaped. “I wrecked your party. I’m sure the whole Aphrodite thing is going to errupt soon. I just don’t know what to do any more.”

She pushed my hair back from my forehead and placed a kiss on my temple. “Sit patiently and wait for your father to return from Delphi. He’s decided to consult the Oracle. We won’t make any decisions until he gets back, deal?

I nodded, not sure I could speak and hold back a flood of tears at the same time.

My father was going to Delphi to learn my fate. Not knowing what was going to happen to me was scary enough. Finding out I was going to know what fate lay in store for me brought sheer terror.

Chapter 11 - Eros

Eros stretched in satisfaction as he flew. Making sure the suitors couldn’t be as captivated by Psyche as he’d been brought him an unexpected peace. Now, he just needed to find Hermes and finalize his plan.

But even for an experienced tracker like Eros, Hermes was too speedy to easily spot using just second sight. When he was unable to instantly track down his friend, Eros swooped in to Hermes’s temple-of-choice. The imposing shrine overflowed with gold and marble statutes cast in the young god’s likeness. Eros trotted up the stairs and toward the main chamber. In the far corner of the temple, one of the priests was removing the remnants of a meal and carting away a half-drunk pitcher of wine.

“You!” Eros barked. The priest dropped the ceramic pitcher. The crack as it exploded against the marble floor was tampered only by the dull splash of un-drunk wine. “Where’s your master?”

“He ju—ju—just left,” the priest stammered.

“Where?” Eros growled. His newly-found tranquility was now as shattered as the pitcher. He had a deadline after all. Not that King Darion would reach Delphi for a few days, but if his plan wasn’t set before then, it’d be too late.

“I don’t know, my Lord. He got called away to escort an important shade to the Underworld, but I don’t know who it is that died, or where.”

“Damn!” Eros kicked at a chunk of pitcher, sending more wine spraying.

“If I may be so bold, you might try waiting at the Alcyonian Lake. Hermes will have to bring the shade there to catch a ferry to the Underworld.”

Eros clenched his jaw and spoke through gritted teeth. “I don’t have time to wait.”

Dropping his head, the priest mumbled, “Of course, my Lord.”

“You’re excused now.” Eros exhaled. It was true: he didn’t have time to wait. But since his second sight wasn’t working, he didn’t have other options either.

When he arrived, the shores of the lake were empty. Eros couldn’t tell whether Hermes had come and gone, or if he still had yet to arrive. For the remainder of the day, Eros paced along the bank, still scanning unsuccessfully for Hermes. The descending sun pulled a misty blanket in its wake, covering the lake in a thick, hazy shroud of fog.

In the comfort of the night, Eros kneeled on the shore and cupped the cool water in his hand. The liquid slipped back through his long fingers as he moved them slowly apart. He absentmindedly dipped his hand and strained the water several more times, deciding whether it would be safe to take a drink.
 

The Alcyonian Lake fed the rivers flowing into Hades, but did the waters flow back out? Sure, he’d heard rumors that once you drank from the lake, you’d be condemned to the Underworld, but Eros was immortal. The water couldn’t possibly hurt him. Besides, the late spring afternoon had been hot. Unseasonably hot.

Eros dipped his cupped hands into the pool. He pursed his lips together to sip, when a cracked voice called out from the misty darkness.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Eros dropped the water back into the lake reflexively. “Of course, I’m not you, so drink up.” The voice cackled out a series of gruff laughs that gave way to a fit of coughing.

Eros squinted into the haze, wishing his eyesight were better at night. He wasn’t afraid, but his skin still crawled with an eerie prickle.

As Eros stared into the fog, he began to make out the skeletal figure of a ferryman coming closer. The ancient man’s skin stretched across his bones, unsupported by muscle or meat. His long nose protruded from his face like a hooked beak, while his eyes sunk into their sockets. A mess of grayish hair, caked with sweat and grime, clung to the sides of his bony scalp. With great effort, the man plunged his staff into the water ahead, sinking into the soft bottom of the lake, and lurching the ferry forward.

Eros had never met Charon before, but this had to be him. The ferryman of Hades, who moved souls from the shores of life into the depths of the Underworld. For a small fee of course.
 
Nothing in life — or death — was free.
 

“Where’s your coin, boy?” Charon called out.

Boy? Had Charon just called him boy?
Eros rose up to his full height and spread his wings behind him. The show of bravado only made Charon laugh again.

“You’d better take care who you mock, old man.”

“Or what? There’s nothing you can do to me. You gods
need
me.”

“Fool. The gods don’t need you.” Eros took a step closer, daring the old man not to back down. “
I
don’t need you.”

 
“Ha! If I didn’t ferry the dead down to Hades, your precious earth would be overrun with shades. What would become of your playground then? I’d like to see you try to woo a woman with all of her dead family standing around watching.”

Charon cackled again, and then his thin, pale lips curled into a smile. “Besides, boy, you do need something from me. Some information, perhaps?”

Eros glared at Charon. He kept his gaze icy while trying to assess whether he could ask about Hermes. Charon held his stare, refusing to look away.

“Go on, boy, ask me. Ask me what you want to know.”

“What will it cost me?”

“So you are clever. Never mind my fee this time. Your mother will be paying my toll soon enough.”

Eros lunged at the old ferryman. “How dare you threaten my mother’s life.”
 

Charon pulled away, faster than Eros had given him credit for, and Eros splashed into the lake, soaking the ends of his tunic.
 

“It’s no threat, boy. There’s no force on Earth or Olympus that could kill that woman. But I expect she’ll be sending someone my way soon enough, and that will be all the fee I require.”

“You collect gold, not souls,” Eros accused. He didn’t trust Charon or his promise to answer a question for free.

“I could build a staircase to Olympus with all the coins I’ve collected. What can they buy me? Can they buy me freedom from this unending toil? Can they buy me repose in a magnificent palace? Can they buy me the love of a beautiful woman?”

Eros suddenly saw the human frailty of Charon. A weakness he could exploit. Of course, like everyone else, Charon wanted love, didn’t he?
 

“Is it love you want? You needn’t wait for my mother. Just ask me.”

Charon broke out into his coughing laugh again, practically choking himself. His full weight bore down on the staff as he struggled to keep from falling over. Charon finally coughed out, “Love? Love is for fools, boy. I’ve just tired of seeing the shades of the old, decrepit and diseased. I want a face to light up the gloom.
The
face…”

The weight of Charon’s words crushed into Eros’s chest. “You will not have Psyche.”

“You can’t stop your mother, boy. She’ll send Psyche to the Underworld one way or another. You mark my words.”

“I’ll make you pay for those words,” Eros snarled from behind clenched teeth.

“Your mother already has paid for them,” Charon replied. “And so now I’ll answer your question. Hermes isn’t here. He hasn’t come this way yet. Of course, I do expect him in the next two, three, maybe even four days.”

Eros stared at Charon in steely silence, his fists clenched into tight balls at his side. He struggled to keep his breathing at an even pace while fighting the urge to tear Charon’s head off of it puny neck.

“I see you’ve grown tired of my visit,” Charon said. “Perhaps I better take my leave.”

With a few swift strokes of his staff, Charon dissolved into the mist.

Chapter 12 - Eros

Eros barely slept that night. He crawled up into the branches of a tree nearest the gates to Hades and wrapped his thick, white wings around himself. The spring night wasn’t cold, but an uncomfortable chill seeped into his bones.