Alex Anderson The Last Son of Zeus (20 page)

And Alex calmly raised Helen's head.

The creatures turned and twisted, but in the end it didn't matter. They all became stone.

Hera disappeared on the other side of the battlefield then reappeared in front of Alex. She smacked Helen's head out of his hands and teleported both of them inside the museum's Chamber of Athena room. Or rather, sixty feet above its floor.

Hera then dropped Alex.

~ * ~

Bos and Cupid both landed on tree limb after tree limb. Each limb broke, sending them closer to the ground. Bos' groin seemed to absorb most of the impact from each limb.

The finally hit the ground and
Icaras
' feathers fell around them. The wings weren't completely melted away, but there was not enough left to support Bos' weight. Bos tried to stand, but felt woozy. He felt a trickle of blood run down his forehead.

One of Cupid's wings twisted up at an odd angle. He gave Bos a hateful look, and much like Fiona, pulled a sword from a nowhere place behind his back. Cupid sword produced a deeper hum, sounding evil in a way.

Cupid raised the sword. It's been fun,
fuckface
." He brought the sword down. Bos closed his eyes.

~ * ~

Fiona could barely see through the fountain of blood gushing from her nose and forehead. She could, however, see Apollo turn his glowing hand to her.

Fiona jumped to her feet right before the ground below her caught flame.

"Why do this, Athena? Zeus is no more. You no longer have to do his bidding."

Fiona ducked and slid under another flame Apollo shot at her. She came back up and her sword sliced through his hands. Blood in form of white light gushed out of the two stumps.

Apollo stared at the stumps, dumbfounded.

"I no longer do the gods' bidding, Apollo. I do mine." She thrust her sword into his chest.

~ * ~

Cupid's blade was blocked with a clanging sound inches from Bos' face.

"Oh my God," Bos said before passing out.

Cupid looked up from his blade to the blocking sword. He met eyes with the sword's owner.

Hector.

"What, in Zeus' name, are you doing, Paris?" Hector said.

Cupid or--as he was more commonly known to his brother--
Paris
yanked away his sword. Paris smiled. "Hector, wait a minute. Is this
your
Trojan army?"

If Hector caught on to Paris' sarcasm, he showed no sign. "Why?" he said, barely above a whisper.

"Oh, don't play high and mighty with me. You know goddamn good and well why. Or did you actually enjoy spending two boring ass millennia on the shore of the river Styx?" Cupid swung high or, at least, what was high for him. The hilt came parallel to Hector's chest. Hector expected the sword to be easy to block and he was right. What he was wrong about, however, was the strength his puny brother was able to put into the blade.

It knocked Hector to the ground. He quickly jumped to his feat, eyes blinking in surprise.

"Did I mention I have skills now?" Cupid kicked a stone bench out of his way.

Hector pointed his sword at Paris. "I never saw you on the sands of the Styx! If I did, I would have pushed your miserable pathetic soul in myself!"

"Gee, Hector, you ever wonder why I'm
fuckin
' bitter? Bitter at you, bitter at Troy, and bitter at Aphrodite and her
fuckin
' curse collar? She came to me in Hades. Gave me a get out of jail card if I became her Cupid. I said yes. She clamped that thing around my neck, and I was beholden to that bitch ever since. I had to do exactly what she said, when she said to do it."

Hector swung at Cupid three times. Cupid answered all three strikes with easily placed blocks and, with one leg, casually swept Hector's legs out from under him. Hector landed face first on the ground. He still heard and smelled his men burning in the distance.

"You had nothing to be bitter about, Paris," Hector said through clenched teeth. "You are remembered as the lover of Helen and are forever glorified for it. You did not wait on the shores of the Styx for centuries waiting for a boat that would never be seen." Hector stood. "Now, you even experience glory as Aphrodite's herald."

Cupid kicked Hector. Hector flew into the air ten feet and landed on his back. His senses barely returned to him by the time Cupid stood beside his prone form. For all the good it did him, all his senses told him was that he was in a massive amount of pain, so much he could barely breathe, let alone move. He tried to lift his sword, but an apparently broken arm failed him.

"I didn't want the glory for Helen, Hector. I didn't want Troy to wait on the riverbank, and I sure as hell didn't want to be Cupid. You know what I wanted? Choice, Hector! Motherfucking choice! That's what Hera's giving me! She broke the curse on that collar, giving me the freedom to choose, the freedom to be and the freedom to rule! And
y'know
what? I've had this freedom coming for a long fucking time. I couldn't give two shits if you don't understand."

He picked Hector up and slammed him into the concrete bench. It busted into several pieces and Hector's sword fell from his useless arm. He rolled onto his back just in time to jerk to the right, barely missing Cupid's sword.

Recovering his senses somewhat, Hector rolled to his sword and picked it up with his off hand. He stood, turned and swung with all of his might at Paris.

And Paris caught it.

Blood ran down Paris' palm and Hector's sword. In all of his years, all of his war campaigns, Hector had never witnessed such a feat. Hector struggled to free his sword. He twisted it and jerked it, but Paris' grip remained firm. Paris laughed at him and jerked the sword out of Hector's grasp.

As if it
were
nothing.

As if he
were
Paris.

By fate or design, Paris had, in every way, become stronger than Hector. The world, the gods, and man had taken everything away from Hector that could possibly matter and left him with nothing. The only thing that allowed him to hold on to some form of sanity while waiting on the banks of the Styx had been
at least I am superior to Paris
.
At least nobody can ever take that away. I know who the stronger brother is even if the rest of creation does not
.

But that was no longer the case. Paris now had the strength and the fame and now he would win this battle, winning him even more power the weakling simply did not deserve.

Hector screamed.

He leapt to Paris' throat. He wrapped his hand around the Paris' head, reared back, and head butted him. Paris' nose exploded and
gushed
blood over both of their faces. Hector didn't stop. He continued head butting Paris and cursed the gods' names as he did so.

Paris tried to push him away, but The Prince of Troy wouldn't allow it. Years of torture, suffering Paris' existence wouldn't allow it. Paris stealing his glory wouldn't allow it. The gods using him as some game piece wouldn't allow it.

Hector didn't stop head butting until Paris' face felt like trodden mud. And even then, it was because a partially recovered Bos pulled him off.

~ * ~

Alex bounced off a column and landed on the ground sixty feet below.

Alex struggled to catch his breath. He kicked a wet floor sign out of his way and stood. Every bone and muscle hurt. Blood ran down his forehead and he could feel his eye swelling. He turned, looking for Hera and spotted her ten feet away.

Alex limped toward her a little. It hurt... It hurt a lot.

Hera looked at Alex's limp and smiled. Her teeth seemed pointed. "Athena's powers will not help you when you are so far from her and so close to me. You might as well give up now."

Alex clenched his jaw and took another step toward her, moaning a little. He could only see out of one eye.

"Are you really so eager to die, Alex Anderson?"

Hera disappeared and reappeared in two quick flashes of black smoke. She was so close to Alex he felt her breath. She grabbed him by the throat and lifted him off the ground. "I suppose these things skip a generation."

Alex kicked Hera in the face.

They both fell to the ground. He looked up and saw Hera had slid away a couple of feet and was on her back. Alex slowly picked himself up and so did Hera.

But she was a little slower.

Alex jumped kicked Hera's chest. She cried out and bounced back. Alex jumped and kicked her again and again and...

She caught his foot the third time.

With her face twisted in anger, Hera spun Alex's heel. The teenager made four quick circles in the air and landed on the ground. Hera picked him up and slammed him into the nearest column. She yelled then threw him into the second nearest.

Alex Anderson's world was fucked up. His vision--what little there was of it--was blurry and starry. His ears wouldn't stop ringing and his breath was wheezy.

Still, he picked himself up.

Hera leaned forward to teleport...

And nothing happened.

She reached up to touch her head where the Band of Hermes was.

Smiling through a busted lip, Alex lifted the pencil thick Band in his hand. He broke it in two. "Oops."

The two rushed each other.

Alex yelled. Hera yelled. Alex swung high, Hera blocked. Hera kicked low, Alex sidestepped. Hera punched high. Alex grabbed her arms and twisted, pulling her face into his elbow.

Stunned, Hera took a couple of steps back. Alex didn't give her a second. He stepped forward and lifted his leg for another kick.

She grabbed Alex's leg. She then made a complete arc with his body over her head and onto the ground behind her.

There was a loud crack as his leg broke.

Alex screamed. In all his life, he had never known such physical pain. Still, he reached for Hera.

She casually took a step back and Alex fell into a heap on the floor.

Hera made a show of pushing her flowing coat behind her and squatted next to Alex. "Do you want to know how your mother acted at the end of her life?"

Alex grunted and reached for Hera's face.

She slapped his hand away. "She squealed, Alex. My God, did she squeal. Not like a person but like an animal. Like an animal writhing in its own filth waiting to be fed and butchered."

Alex reached for her again. Her hand darted out, grabbed his wrist and broke it. Alex screamed and she flung the dead weight back to him.

"She begged, pleaded for me to stop. But I didn't. I couldn't. Not even if I wanted to. Her begging, pleading, and squealing--god that horrendous squealing--just made me want to end the suffering even more."

Hera stood. She walked in a circle around Alex's crumpled form.

Alex looked at her. His voice was raspy. "W-Why? Alex coughed and felt pain in his ribs, "Why did you do it? She couldn't hurt you." He drew the last rod with his good hand and managed to get to one knee.

Hera laughed, grabbed his fist and spun Alex around. She grabbed his head and twisted it to the point of breaking. Alex pushed the rod against her, but she easily kept it away.

"She couldn't do anything to you," he barely managed to say. "She was nothing to you."

He felt Hera's breath on his ear. "But she was everything to you."