Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 123065 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 615(@200wpm)___ 492(@250wpm)___ 410(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 123065 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 615(@200wpm)___ 492(@250wpm)___ 410(@300wpm)
The coffee cup in her hand trembles before she sets it down, spilling coffee on the counter. “Yeah, sorry just a really sad and scary story.”
“The best ones always are.” I say, voice low. “Let’s go, no more talk of stupid immortals dipped in Chaos.”
I say it on purpose as we walk past the door, knowing he can hear me. I can smell him anyway. He’s on the other side of the street spying on us.
It’s one of his many bad habits.
“Whoa!” Cleo stops on the sidewalk right before we’re about to walk across the street and meet the devil himself. She points toward the old town center, people always say it reminds them of a movie, with all of the little cafes—five to be exact, circling the large fountain in the middle of the square. I rarely look at it, the memories are still too fresh despite being old. It’s a picture of Ra and Apep fighting each other, a flash of lightning divides them down the middle and above them sits, the remaining twelve deities. I’m still pissed that Mars had the fountain built when I failed the first night only to be stuck here to stare at it until now. He’s an asshat. I think Anubis laughed for a week straight that Mars would mock me like that. Then again, Mars didn’t fail his trials.
Gaia in all her glory with her flowing black hair and tanned skin, the statue has her looking like a Roman goddess, but I know her true appearance, she’s absolutely stunning, with tanned brown skin, bright yellow-brown eyes, a strong nose, and full lips. Her body is shaped for birthing the world, full hips, long legs—she is, after all, the mother of all. And Cronos was born out of the cries of Asia long ago until being adopted as a deity by the Greeks and Romans. I feel my sigh down to my very soul, the burden is heavy again, the need to return to them. I clear my throat and look above the fountain. “That large clock above Town Hall carries the countdown to the eclipse, and the fountain is to honor the gods of old.”
“It’s a battle between Egyptian and Greek gods.” Cleo tilts her head. “Why is it that I haven’t read about this battle?” She laughs like it’s funny when it’s nothing short of a tragedy that started this all, including her end.
“Yes.” I deadpan. “That’s exactly what we’re doing here, keeping all the secrets of the world in that one fountain.”
“Ah, so if I dig beneath it I find treasure?” she teases.
I force a smile even though there would probably be a bit of truth to that, though I doubt the things she wants are cursed artifacts Mars left for some poor human to find. “Possibly, you never know. Old areas of cities hold secrets and magic.”
A woman and her small girl pass us quietly, the woman stops briefly and inclines her head, then stares at Cleo long and hard. The daughter is human—the woman isn’t, thus her greeting. She knows exactly why Cleo is here and who she is.
I’m ready to tell her not to, but I’m too late, as the woman reaches for Cleo’s hand and presses a silver coin against her palm. She closes Cleo’s fingers over it. “Mubarekt.”
Blessing.
“Thank you.” Cleo obviously knows a bit of Egyptian. “That was kind.”
The woman tugs her black scarf over her head and rushes past us with her little girl. It won’t be the last time Cleo sees her.
“Shall we?” I offer my arm.
Cleo nods and takes it. She looks up toward Ken’s island and the rugged Olympic Mountain Range in the distance. I miss it. I’m full of longing and desperation.
“It’s beautiful.” Her clear voice interrupts my thoughts.
“It really is.” I say honestly pulling my gaze away from home. “They say the forests still mourn the loss of the gods.” I point at the mountain range. “It’s just a myth but at night locals still see fires up on Mount Olympus, they say the gods rest there waiting for worship.”
She glances back at the range. “If they were real, they’d do a better job, don’t you think?”
I shrug. “If humanity deserved it, maybe they’d feel the need to step in more often.”
“Touché.”
We reach the other side of the street.
“What’s this I hear about gods and Mount Olympus?” Apep winks at Cleo, refusing to even look in my direction. Bastard. “You telling silly stories again, Cyrus?”
“Apep,” I say his name like a curse. His hands are shoved in his impeccably sewn navy three-piece suit, and his smile is so smug I want to strangle him. With an icy smile and equally frozen gaze in his eyes he tilts his head toward Cleo.
“Back from your quick trip?” I ask in annoyance as Cleo and I stop to talk to him. Ignoring Apep is just as impossible as Apep ignoring me. People give us a wide berth as they pass us by and then suddenly the sidewalk on our side is completely empty.