Painted Blind (35 page)

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Authors: Michelle A. Hansen

Tags: #Romance

BOOK: Painted Blind
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Aphrodite arrived with an uproar. We heard the clamor three rooms away, and when the party reached the great hall, I was surprised to find three prisoners in the custody of the guards, not one. Theron, another man, and a maid were all brought in chains. The maid was terrified. Her face was streaked, though her eyes were dry. When she saw Titus standing at my shoulder, she began to cry again.

“I demand that you release my servants this instant!” Aphrodite insisted. Her face turned to utter shock when she saw Thomas.

“Hold your peace, daughter. We wait upon another,” Zeus replied. He sat silently until one of his guards appeared at the back of the hall and gave him a signal. Then he pointed to the maid and a guard brought her forward. She was forced to her knees before Zeus.

“That’s Fauna,” Titus whispered.

She was dressed like Aphrodite with excessive jewelry and flowers woven into her hair. Around her head she wore a pendant.

Zeus did not read charges against her. “Speak, girl.”

“Please, don’t send Atalo to Hades,” she begged. “It wasn’t his fault. I was afraid to ask permission from our mistress. I married him unlawfully. I kept it a secret, though he pressed me to admit it.”

Aphrodite’s already angry face grew harder. Her eyes narrowed on Fauna.

Zeus drew his fingers through his beard. “We might deal lightly with this crime in exchange for other testimony. Do you swear before the High Judge to speak the truth in all things asked of you?”

Fauna nodded. “Inasmuch as I do not betray my mistress.”

“You are relieved of your oath to your mistress. You will speak the truth, or I’ll send Atalo to Persephone!”

Fauna let out a cry and dropped her face into her hands. “I will speak the truth,” she cried.

The guards brought Theron forward and forced him to his knees. “Serious charges have been made against this man, Theron. Fauna, to your knowledge has this man ever committed adultery with your mistress Aphrodite?”

Fauna’s face drained of all color, and terror stopped her tears. She looked first at Aphrodite then at Theron.

“Speak the truth,” Zeus demanded.

She choked on her answer. “Yes,” Fauna squeaked. “I have seen them with my own eyes.”

Theron shot her a look, and she shied away as if he struck her. When the guard pulled her to her feet, she clung to him, more afraid of Theron than of Zeus’s justice.

Aphrodite stepped forward. “She’s lying. She will say anything to save herself and this worthless man servant.” She gestured toward Atalo, the other man in chains. “They are the traitors here, not Theron.”

“Peace, Aphrodite. You will get your turn at the end,” Zeus replied. “Titus.”

Titus slipped around me. Aeas closed the gap and took up the translation. Since he wasn’t a prisoner, Titus knelt briefly before Zeus, then stood to answer the questions laid to him.

“Why did you abandon your post in Aphrodite’s household?” Zeus asked.

“I let the mortal Psyche into the Fortress. Later that night I was instructed to take her to the mainland. When I returned, Theron was waiting for me. He sought to punish me for my mistake. I feared for my life, so I left.”

“Why did you fear for your life?” Zeus asked.

Titus’s shoulders slumped slightly. “Theron and I fought. I couldn’t prevail against him.”

On his knees, Theron smirked, until Eros stepped forward with a manila envelope. “I have proof,” Eros said. “These are called photographs. They use them in the mortal world. I took these pictures of Titus when he arrived here at the palace.”

As Zeus looked over the photos, his eyes grew stern. He motioned Titus away and called my name. Titus took me by the hand and led me to the place where he stood a moment ago. He put himself between me and Theron and stayed to translate.

“My dear girl,” Zeus began, “you have been through quite an ordeal these past few months. Only weeks ago you returned from the kingdom of Hades. At your request, the condemned murderer Thomas has been freed. While you were in Persephone’s court, you told her of events that took place in the mortal world and a verbal contract offered to you by Theron. We all know that no one can lie to Persephone. Therefore, we deem her charges as correct, but we need to hear ourselves of this contract.”

Titus set a reassuring hand on the back of my neck. “Just tell him the truth, and it’s over.”

I felt myself tremble, not only because Theron was a mere two feet away, but because I knew what else Eros must have in that envelope, and like Titus, I felt the humiliation of admitting I was a helpless victim. Still, I spoke the truth, just as I recounted it to Persephone. I repeated the insults I hurled at Theron and how he hurled me into a mirror in return. I let my eyes wander to Aphrodite when I spoke of the contract Theron offered me. For the first time, her anger seemed directed at Theron and not the rest of us.

Zeus stopped me with a raise of his hand and turned to Eros. “He assaulted your betrothed?”

Aeas stepped forward and explained how he found me and that he sent for medicine to heal my wounds. I held my breath as Eros pulled another stack of photos from the envelope and set them into Zeus’s hands. Eros must have taken them while I was unconscious.

The old man’s teeth clenched. He looked like a lion ready to roar. “Mortal or not, this is despicable!” He flung the photos onto the floor in front of Theron.

As they skated across the floor, Titus glimpsed for the first time my bloodied and disfigured face the night of the attack. He let out a groan and pulled me closer. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered.

“This assault was never reported to the council,” Zeus said.

Aphrodite stepped forward shaking a finger at her son. “Because he shot Theron full of arrows! He knew our laws wouldn’t protect his mortal strumpet.”

“Eros,” Zeus said sternly, “revenge is never condoned by our law.”

Eros held out his hands palms up. “Those weren’t my arrows. They were her father’s. He’s mortal, and not bound by our laws.”

Zeus wasn’t fooled. He turned to me. “Does he speak the truth?”

“I didn’t see the arrows that ended up in Theron,” I replied, “but my father is a bow-hunter. He hunts big game every fall. His arrows are nearly always dark green with yellow feathers at the end and razor tipped to drop the kill quickly.”

“Fauna,” Zeus said, “did you see the arrows pulled from Theron’s body?”

This time she stepped forward and spoke boldly. “They were green with yellow feathers on the end, and they had a vicious four-pronged razor tip.”

Zeus nodded and dismissed me. “Then, we’ll move on to the final matter.” He turned to Thomas. “I believe you have something to say to this company?”

Thomas shook his head. “No one believed me then. I don’t see that it would be any different now.”

Zeus gave him an understanding smile and gestured to the guard at the back of the room, who went out the door and returned a moment later with another very large man.

The one who entered was mighty in stature like Zeus, but his gait was uncertain and his shoulders slumped. As he drew nearer, it became apparent that his face was not handsome. His nose was crooked and his mouth overly large.

“That’s Hephaestus,” Titus murmured. “He’s a recluse. He hasn’t left the forge in ages.”

“Welcome, Lord Hephaestus,” Zeus said. “You did not speak at the trial five ages ago because you were recovering from your wounds. I realize now we may have been hasty in our conviction. Would you please speak to the charges now?”

Hephaestus raised his hand and pointed to Thomas. “I …re...remember, that boy.” Each word was a struggle for him, but he continued, “H…h…he came into the f…f…forge, but he was…un…unarmed. Stavros ch…chased him into the caves. Then, someone st…st…stabbed me in the back. W… w…when I healed, they told me St…St…Stavros was dead, and the murderer was s…s…sent to Hades. I d…d…didn’t know it was th…th…that boy they convicted.” Hephaestus shook his head. “H…h…he didn’t stab me. H…he was afraid.”

Zeus turned his eyes back to Thomas. “You told the Council repeatedly that Theron killed Stavros. Is that still your account?”

“Yes,” Thomas answered.

Zeus sighed. “I’ve heard enough. Aphrodite, now it is your turn to speak. Have you anything to say against the charges as they have been laid out?”

She stood trembling, her eyes a mix of fury and humiliation, but she held her peace.

“My lady!” Theron cried. “My love, save me! Psyche is lying. They are all lying. I have never betrayed you!”

His pleas fell on deaf ears. One of the photographs had spun as far as Aphrodite’s feet. She was done covering his crimes, though Theron continued to call her name as the guards pulled him to his feet.

“Theron,” Zeus said, “according to these accounts and the judgment of this High Councilor, you are found guilty of betraying Lord Hephaestus, abusing a subordinate servant, assaulting Eros’s betrothed, violating your oath to Aphrodite, murdering Stavros and swearing falsely under oath before the High Council. You are a disgrace to the entire Olympian race, and I will personally see you delivered to Persephone’s feet.” He turned to the guard. “Hold him downstairs until we’ve finished the proceedings.”

Theron fought hard against the guards as they dragged him toward the stairway to the dungeon. “Aphrodite! Don’t let them send me to Hades! Please! Do something!”

When Theron was gone, Zeus turned to Aphrodite. “As for you, my daughter, you are forbidden from returning to the mortal world. The Fortress is hereby seized by the High Council. You will go home, and for once in your life, you will act like a wife.” He bade Fauna and her lover Atalo brought forward. “The two of you are appointed caretakers of the Fortress. You are not banished to the mortal world, but are to live there and care for this Olympian property. You will report directly to the High Council. Now, Fauna, wear your pendant as it should be. If you cannot be proud of your husband’s love, you don’t deserve him.”

Freed from their bonds, both Fauna and Atalo fell at Zeus’s feet and thanked him.

Aphrodite threw a disconcerted glance at her husband, Hephaestus. With her two remaining maids, she followed him out the back door.

Zeus turned to Eros and yawned. “Holding court is exhausting. I hope Eudora has that mutton ready. It smells heavenly.”

As Eros escorted the Judge to the dining room, I turned to Thomas. “What will happen to Theron in Hades?”

“He’ll pay for each of his crimes separately. Persephone despises treachery most of all, so he’ll go to the irons first, and he’ll stay there awhile. Eventually, she’ll take him into her guard, but she won’t make it easy for him.” He looked up at Titus. “She’ll break him first.”

 

By the time the sun went down, Eros and I found ourselves completely alone in the palace. Zeus and his guards left to deliver Theron to Persephone. Fauna and her husband took off to make merry in their new mansion. Titus volunteered to go with Aeas to England and see that Thomas was properly settled. An exhausted Eudora returned to her husband in the valley, and I sent my maid to stay with her parents for awhile.

Eros doused the lights on the upper level of the palace, and we stood on the balcony enjoying the cool breeze and the bright moonlight. “You’ve freed an innocent man, condemned a murderer to Hades, outted an adulteress, and reconciled Titus to the man he’s hated for ages, can we
please
marry now?”

“Yes,” I replied, “I’ll let you marry me tonight, right after you help me do one last thing.”

He let his head roll back with a groan.

“It’s right up your alley, Eros. You’re good at breaking and entering, right?”

“An expert,” he replied, his mouth on my neck.

“We won’t be gone long, and I promise, when we get back, I’m all yours.”

“All right,” he said. “Where are we going?” When I told him, he laughed. “Your timing is perfect. Do you know what tomorrow is in the mortal world?”

“No.”

He kissed my mouth. “It’s Valentine’s Day.”

Epilogue

Rory lay awake and stared at the constellations he stuck on the ceiling years ago. The Big Dipper dimmed from view as the night wore on. He kicked off the covers and thought of Psyche. No one had heard from her in weeks. Her dad said she went back to Europe, but Rory called every airline with flights out of Bozeman the day she disappeared. Psyche Middleton wasn’t on any of them. For the thousandth time, he prayed that she was all right—that the monster named Theron hadn’t dragged her off and tortured her to death.

Rory had never seen Aeas again either.

As he drifted into restless sleep, he dreamed of Psyche’s beautiful face. She stood over him, dressed in white with a crown of braids in her hair and a heavy cloak draped around her shoulders. She was even more stunning than he remembered. On her forehead was a jeweled pendant which sparkled in the moonlight. She drew a damp piece of gauze across his forehead and down his cheeks.

“What are you doing?” he asked the dream.

“Passing my curse on to someone else.”

His face tingled, and he closed his eyes. “I worry about you.”

“Don’t worry. I’m happy now.”

He didn’t doubt it. She made it to heaven and come back as an angel, magnificent beyond human description. Psyche moved the cloth over his entire face, then squeezed the liquid onto his lips. He opened his eyes and tasted sugared nectar. The juice sharpened his vision. Behind her he saw a young man, but it wasn’t Aeas. This guy was older, more strongly built, and when he looked at Psyche, his face lit in a way that made Rory ache for a love of his own.

Psyche bent and kissed Rory’s forehead. “Remember, only the beauty in your heart matters.” Rory squeezed her hand, then she vanished.

The next morning Rory woke to the buzzing of his alarm and rolled over trying to remember why he’d set it early. Clouds in his memory parted. He needed to double-check his calculus homework and reprint his term paper. Rory pulled himself out of bed and powered on the computer. He brought up the paper and hit print, then dragged himself to the shower.

With the mirror still foggy, he ran a comb clumsily through his hair, not really caring how it turned out. He dressed, piled books into his backpack and trudged down the stairs to the kitchen, where his mom was slicing oranges. She looked up, let the knife slip and sliced her finger.

“Mom!” Rory grabbed her hand and pressed his thumb on the cut. He dragged her to the sink and ran cold water over the wound.

Tears gathered in her eyes as she stared up at him. “My beautiful boy.” She’d called him that a lot when he was little. He tolerated it until his body betrayed him in seventh grade and turned his face into a war zone. “I knew you’d grow out of it,” his mom said. “No scars even.”

Rory touched his face, but the bumps and ridges weren’t there. He ran to the bathroom and threw on the light, then stared awestruck at his refection. “Only the beauty in your heart matters.” He touched the glass. Psyche healed him. It was the face he’d always had under the acne, but he hadn’t seen it in years.

Rory remembered the guy he used to be before the worst of it hit. He joked with girls, stood with his shoulders straight. It was later he started hiding in fantasy novels—when girls cringed to look at his face.

He grabbed his backpack and keys and ran toward the door. For once he wasn’t going to sneak in right before the tardy bell. There was something he had wanted to do for months.

“Breakfast!” his mom called after him, but Rory could miss a meal for this.

He parked and jogged toward the nearest door, skipped going to his locker and headed straight to his first period class. Only one student was there. She sat in the front corner with a lock of dark hair tucked behind her ear. Her homework and calculus book were neatly stacked in the top corner of her desk, and she was hunched over a book.

“Hi, Vanessa.”

“Hey, Rory.” She didn’t look up.

He knelt beside her desk and watched her eyes move back and forth across the page. “If I buy, do you think you could ditch Koontz for one day and have lunch with me?”

“Are you serious?” She looked up and went doe-eyed at the sight of his face. “What happened?”

“Do you believe in magic?”

“Not really.”

Rory smiled and was surprised by the slight change in her eyes. She’d drawn a quick breath, too. “Then, I grew out of it. Isn’t that what everyone says will happen?” He pulled the book from her hands. “I realize I’m not nearly as intriguing as Dean, but you have to eat.”

She smiled into the faux wood grain of the desk. “If you don’t mind being seen with me.”

Rory touched her chin with the tip of his finger and drew her gaze to him. “I would love to be seen with you.”

He blessed the gods of love and beauty.

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