The Immortal Game (book 1) (19 page)

“Hera has a distinct sense of propriety,” Athena said. “She wants to know that you’re innocent and that your sons are Ares’s sons. But more than that, it’s something she can hang over him. She’ll make him sacrifice because she can.”

Ruby glanced again at Ares, but he had no reaction. The idea that his mother would deliberately make life uncomfortable for him didn’t seem new.

Ruby looked around the room from books, to statues, to scrolls. “This is incredible,” she said.

Athena followed her gaze and beamed like a mother receiving praise for a talented child.

“Where are they all from?” Ruby asked as she looked up at a shelf that reached to the top of the tall room. “How old are they?”

“Most would seem very old to you,” Athena said. “I’ve rescued them from many places over the years.”

Ruby thought of the full shelves of books at the bookstore and how no one ever bought any. Athenaeum was a clearinghouse for Athena’s collection and this is where they would end up.

“These scrolls,” Ruby stood and walked to the diamond-shaped cubbies. “What are they?”

“Most are from the Library of Alexandria,” Athena said as she followed. “The library was destroyed in a fire.”

Ruby reached her hand out to touch one and hesitated. She looked to Athena and the goddess nodded. The scroll made a crinkling sound as Ruby unrolled the stiff parchment. It was a star chart. The handwriting was tiny and perfect. Each foreign letter had been formed with an exacting hand.

The stars on the chart were represented as dots strung together into constellations by thin black lines. It was an attempt to figure things out, to take what information was available and make sense of the world. It was the same thing people still did today, thousands of years later, but with more sophisticated equipment.

She scanned the thousands of books in the library. Most would have had to have been written out longhand. The printing press wasn’t invented until … when? The fourteen hundreds? “A fire would have been devastating,” she said, more to herself than to them.

“Especially one set by an invading Julius Caesar,” Ares said, now standing next to her.

Ruby glanced to him and wondered whose side he had been on in that battle. Caesar’s or the scrolls’.

…

Ruby woke the next morning surrounded by an ocean of white sheets. Sun streamed in through the tall thin windows set into the amethyst wall of Athena’s abode. She kicked off the covers and went to look outside.

Ruby had chosen this room because it overlooked a courtyard with a little gnarled tree. Although all of Olympus felt magical, this small courtyard called to her especially. She looked into the blue sky. The weather was perfect and she wondered if it ever wasn’t.

Ruby dressed in the white peplos Athena had left for her. This one was less formal than the one she wore to the Great Hall. There were no gold adornments and it was made from cotton, not silk. There was a white piece of cloth to cinch around her waist and a small leather purse. Stamped into the leather was an owl sitting on a branch and under the branch was a stylized A. She braided her hair to one side in a weak attempt to copy what seemed to be in style on Olympus and pulled the braid over her shoulder.

She saw the picture of her parents she had brought from her house on the silver nightstand. Her sunny mood clouded and a pang of regret flared in her chest. She was to marry Ares, become a goddess, and live on Olympus. This place, if not this room, was her new home. She could not forget the past, but she could not dwell on it either.

Downstairs she crossed the large entryway and looked for Athena. A set of silver double doors led out to the same courtyard Ruby could see from her room.

“Good morning,” Athena said and motioned for Ruby to join her at a wrought iron table where she was eating breakfast next to the ancient-looking tree.

Ruby breathed in the summer scents of Olympus and took a seat across from the goddess. She saw that Athena’s hair was in a loose braid at the back of her head.

“Thanks for the peplos,” she said, happy she got the hair right too.

“Much nicer than jeans. No pinching waists.” Athena wrinkled up her nose. “Help yourself.” She motioned to the table and raised a silver pot toward Ruby. “Coffee?”

Ruby scanned the table of beautifully arranged foods. There were grapes in a silver bowl, crusty rolls on an amber tray, brie and other cheeses on a large marble slab with a silver knife to cut them. Her eyes stopped when she reached the bronze basket in the middle of the table. “You made Ambrosia Bars!” she said as she reached for one.

Athena touched her wrist. “Not those.”

“What?” Ruby’s mouth had already begun to water. Her eyes were trained on the biggest one.

“Not here.” The goddess shook her head.

“Why?” Ruby’s stomach growled loud enough for her to hear.

“They’re made with pure ambrosia. If you eat one there would be no reasoning with Zeus or any of the other gods after that. On Earth the effects and the amounts I use are inconsequential. Here it’s different.”

“But, I’ve been eating them for months. You said a little wouldn’t—”

“Ruby.” The pressure on her wrist increased. She pulled her attention away and looked at Athena. Her grey eyes were serious. “If you eat any amount of ambrosia or drink any amount of nectar in the godly realms it will begin the process of making you immortal. I know that’s the goal, but not yet. There have been mortals who’ve tried to steal one or both but…” She shook her head. “It didn’t end well.”

Ruby took a warm roll instead and glanced to the gnarled tree, deliberately keeping her eyes from the Ambrosia Bars. She didn’t recognize the tree’s small pale leaves, creamy white flowers, or green berries. “This tree is beautiful. What kind is it?”

“It’s The Olive Tree.”

Ruby tore off a chunk of roll and took a bite, but it tasted like a mouthful of white flour compared to an Ambrosia Bar. “
The
Olive Tree?”

Athena turned her body toward the tree. Her face softened. “There once was a city in Greece that my uncle, Poseidon, and I both loved. Poseidon was at the feast last night. Did you see him?”

Ruby shrugged. “No time for introductions.”

“He looks like Zeus.” Athena waved her hand dismissively. “Anyway. We each gave the city a gift. Poseidon, the god of the sea, gave them a saltwater spring,” she rolled her eyes at Ruby. “Not terribly useful.
I
,” she placed her hand over her chest, “gave them
this
,” she flopped the hand forward and motioned to the tree.

“An olive tree?” Ruby asked. She was pretty sure that Greece already had olive trees.

“I gave them olive
trees
. Much better than a saltwater spring. It provides food, oil, shade … beauty,” she looked again at the tree. “And this is the very first one.”

Ruby smiled at this casual conversation about the innovation of olive trees as she sat with their creator beneath the branches of the prototype.

“What became of the city?”

“Athens?” Athena raised her eyebrows.

“Oh, of course.” Ruby felt herself blush as she pulled a grape off its stem.

“The city is my child in a way.”

Ruby knew Athena was one of the virgin goddesses, along with Artemis and Hestia. “Don’t you
want
children?” Ruby asked, as she popped another grape in her mouth. “Is it a choice you made? Or is it another of Zeus’s ideas of propriety? Or Hera’s?” She bristled at the reminder that she was under their thumbs.

“It’s a choice. I’m free of men and family. I’m able to keep my head clear. I make my own decisions. Love so often muddles one’s clarity.”

“Is that what you think?” Ruby sat back in her iron chair. “That my mind is muddled by love?”

“Love is a powerful thing.” She held Ruby’s gaze. “I think you have done some things for Ares that maybe you wouldn’t have done if it weren’t for loving him.”

Ruby thought of all the good their love had done on Earth. “What about the men that would have died in the war? They will live for decades instead.”

“Last night you stood in Zeus’s Great Hall and told the king of the gods that you would defy all his rules. That you would make yourself a goddess and marry his son.” Athena gave her a sidelong look. “If that’s not muddled thinking, you tell me what is.”

Ruby opened her mouth to respond, and then closed it. It
was
irrational, what she had done. “But our love may save humanity.” It sounded conceited and crazy, but she had come to believe it was true.

“I didn’t say that love wasn’t good. I said it can cloud your judgment. I need my mind to be clear. The goddess of wisdom in
love
?” She laughed. “It’s a bit of an oxymoron. Don’t you think?”

“No. I think there is wisdom in love. I think maybe the answer to everything lies at the heart of love.”

Athena’s gaze went back up to the olive tree. After a moment she nodded, as if the tree had asked her a question and she was answering. “I want to give you an early wedding gift. An olive branch is the symbol of peace, not wisdom, ironically.” She stood and took a pair of garden sheers from a table nearby. “Peace is the result of your love with Ares.” She cut off a small branch with the shears and handed it to Ruby. “Grow this branch and it will bring peace and harmony to you both.”

Ruby took the slim branch. She touched the leaves. They were dark green on one side and silvery white on the other. The small flowers were cream-colored with yellow centers and mildly scented. The branch felt oddly stiff. The leaves and the petals would not yield to her touch.

“It’s enchanted. I’ve slowed their molecules,” Athena said. “It will stay as it is until you plant it. Wait until after the wedding. Plant it in your own garden.”

“Thank you,” Ruby said in awe, and carefully tucked the small olive branch into the leather pouch that hung from her waist.

…

Ruby left Athena’s after breakfast. The bare dirt path beneath her feet was well worn. She now knew that it started at Zeus’s Great Hall, wound through the woods, and branched off to the other gods’ abodes. She had seen many of the abodes from the air the day before, but it had been dusk then. Now she caught glimpses in the morning light. Metal or stone structures peeked over foliage in the distance.

The plants here were as incongruous as the ones that grew in front of Ares’s abode. Massive evergreens stood back from the path while smaller plants lined the trim walkway and flowered in a glorious riot of every color known to nature. The air was full of their fragrances. They mingled in spicy sweet breezes beneath the china blue sky. The sun warmed her face and neck.

Ruby closed her eyes and breathed it all in. She tried to taste the beauty of it. Taste seemed to be the last of her senses that she could not enjoy on Olympus, at least not until she became a goddess and could eat ambrosia whenever she wanted. She thought of Ambrosia Bars and tried to remember their exact taste but it was more frustrating than satisfying and she gave it up quickly. She opened her eyes and saw movement ahead, tall and blond. It pulled her up short.

Apollo’s long lanky strides rounded the corner and met with her quickly, too quickly to hide, which was her first instinct, and too quickly to run, which was her second. She knew she would have to face him at some point but it hadn’t occurred to her that it might be alone and in the woods. The carefree feeling of being in nature left her as quickly as heat leaves a body in a gust of wind.

“Rubes!” he drawled with a wide grin.

She plucked up her courage to face him. Even if she didn’t feel like she belonged here yet, she felt like she could fake it.

“Enjoying your stay on Olympus?” he asked. He tilted his head and raised his eyebrows at her.

“It’s beautiful,” she agreed. “I can’t see why you ever left it.”

His eyes darted to the side and Ruby realized that she did have power over Apollo. She wasn’t completely at his mercy. Zeus knew that other gods had been to Earth, or at least he assumed it. But he didn’t know which ones. Ruby did.

“The trees
are
nice.” He looked directly at her. “But sometimes one longs for more … stimulation.”

She ignored his lewd comment. “I’m here to stay, Apollo. You heard Zeus. Ares and I will be married. I’ll become a goddess.” The words, and her confidence, were new, but they felt good on her lips.

“Oh yes.” He laughed. “I heard.” He stared at her, as if waiting for her to laugh too. “You can’t really believe it?” He scoffed. “Certainly Ares can’t.”

“Why do you hate me so much?” Ruby looked him in the eye, unafraid of the answer.

“This is the thing, Rubes.” He leaned down toward her, uncomfortably close. “I can’t stop you from being here. I can’t stop Ares from his own willful desires. But I
must
stop the destruction of Olympus.”

“What destruction? Your vision was wrong. There was no split among the gods. No—”

“It’s not you, Rubes. It’s not even that you find my creepy brother attractive that bothers me.” He looked at her as if he were looking at a pest he’d found in his house. “It’s what you are. What you represent.” He shrugged. “It’s nothing personal.”

“So humans are good enough to sleep with, but not good enough to marry?”

“Yes.” He looked her up and down and grinned. “You’re definitely good enough to sleep with.”

“What about nymphs?” she shot back. “Good enough sleep with but not marry?”

Ruby got a chill from the cold stare he gave her. “Leave Kissiae out of this. I’ve taken care. And that’s completely different.”

“Why do you sleep around on Earth if you supposedly love her so much?” She had been curious about this ever since Ares had told her that Apollo was in love.

His nostrils flared and she saw him swallow. “This is a dangerous place, Ruby. Not for me. Not for Ares. For you. The gods are dangerous. What I can’t figure out is why your boyfriend and his accomplice don’t tell you that. If Ares loved you, he’d try to save you.”

“I think you’re jealous,” she said.

“You have no idea what’s at stake,” he countered.

“What then?”

Apollo gritted his front teeth and hissed, “Everything.”