BOOK TWO
CHAPTER NINETEEN
The group journeyed as quickly as they could to the home of the half-divine birch tree. The dragons carried the Twins most of the way. Sasha stayed in front as scout. They knew they were close when their dragon friends, now all slaves to the Queen, started peppering the forest. They needed to pass unnoticed and soon discovered that this required hardly any stealth on their part since the Twins could make any lookout forget how to sound an alarm or make memories when in their presence, so that when the group had passed the guard had no idea they had seen anything at all. They were essentially invisible.
The morning of the Detego, the group made it to their destination, a place in the forest where four large rocks, vaguely shaped like people, made a square, at the center of which lived the entrance to the temple. The Prince, Sasha, Jove, and Cicero each stood by a stone, and on the count of three, they twisted each one clockwise. With a rush, the ground between the boulders opened up creating a ramp to an underground chamber…and it was slowly closing. Cicero grabbed the twins and ran in followed by Flori, the Prince, Sasha and Jove, who, of course, took his sweet time then teleported at the last minute.
No one could see a thing until a small flame appeared at Jove’s lips. He found a torch on the wall and lit it with a kiss. Through an ingenious bit of engineering utilizing reusable fuses, the flames traveled in a ring around the room and down a long hallway, lighting a series of torches each behind a protective layer of frosted glass. It was the most romantically lit secret passage any of them had ever seen.
“You can breathe fire?” the Prince asked, astounded.
“We all can,” answered Jove.
“But it hurts our throats,” added Cicero. The Prince looked in amazement at Sasha, who shrugged, and Flori, who nodded. After a deep breath, they walked down the passageway.
The morning of the Detego, the group made it to their destination, a place in the forest where four large rocks, vaguely shaped like people, made a square, at the center of which lived the entrance to the temple. The Prince, Sasha, Jove, and Cicero each stood by a stone, and on the count of three, they twisted each one clockwise. With a rush, the ground between the boulders opened up creating a ramp to an underground chamber…and it was slowly closing. Cicero grabbed the twins and ran in followed by Flori, the Prince, Sasha and Jove, who, of course, took his sweet time then teleported at the last minute.
No one could see a thing until a small flame appeared at Jove’s lips. He found a torch on the wall and lit it with a kiss. Through an ingenious bit of engineering utilizing reusable fuses, the flames traveled in a ring around the room and down a long hallway, lighting a series of torches each behind a protective layer of frosted glass. It was the most romantically lit secret passage any of them had ever seen.
“You can breathe fire?” the Prince asked, astounded.
“We all can,” answered Jove.
“But it hurts our throats,” added Cicero. The Prince looked in amazement at Sasha, who shrugged, and Flori, who nodded. After a deep breath, they walked down the passageway.
The Queen watched the women and men of the Chrysanthian Society scramble to finish preparing their yearly feast. The guards had killed too many in the initial raid; because of that they were running behind…not that it mattered. She only needed a second in Zeus’s presence for her plan to come to fruition, a slightly less than perfect feast wouldn’t scare him away fast enough for her to fail. She took a deep breath.
When she first mastered the North Star, the Queen felt invincible, but she soon understood that no matter how great her ability became, she could never win – the vastness of the world prevented it. There would always be people in hiding, always new lives coming into the world, always too many variables to combat. She had her top (and only) magicist work on finding a way to amplify the strength of the North Star, but all attempts failed. Then, a thought occurred. Whatever her son had done to her in Holder’s Deep, it released long hidden memories, including many from Moriandra. Somewhere in the Queen’s mind, knowledge of Hades and Persephone dimly glimmered, along with the certainty that she could overcome even the mind of a god. This awareness shook her world outlook. When the prayers of her youth went unanswered, she had cursed herself for her foolishness. Now, she cursed Olympus for ignoring her! But then she worried, what if they stopped ignoring her? What if they came after her? Took away everything she had done? The no-longer-fictional gods joined the ranks of her enemies, and she wasn’t going to wait around for them to find her. Thusly, the search for divine beings began.
First, she had teams of people working on how to travel to the underworld, but that yielded no fruit. Then, she started raiding temples, looking for priests and historians who could help, only to find that even the most devout sects believed in religion only as poetic metaphor. Then, by mere happenstance, she discovered the Chrysanthian Society, and soon she would meet the King of the Gods himself. With one thought, his power would be hers, and this rebellion would be over for good. Hell, maybe she could answer a prayer or two! The gods have been selfish beings and lazy. She would do better. This moment would be the beginning. If only there wasn’t this nagging tug behind her eye. Her son and Sasha still lived. She knew they could never stop her now. She knew it. Only, she had this feeling. This damn feeling…
When she first mastered the North Star, the Queen felt invincible, but she soon understood that no matter how great her ability became, she could never win – the vastness of the world prevented it. There would always be people in hiding, always new lives coming into the world, always too many variables to combat. She had her top (and only) magicist work on finding a way to amplify the strength of the North Star, but all attempts failed. Then, a thought occurred. Whatever her son had done to her in Holder’s Deep, it released long hidden memories, including many from Moriandra. Somewhere in the Queen’s mind, knowledge of Hades and Persephone dimly glimmered, along with the certainty that she could overcome even the mind of a god. This awareness shook her world outlook. When the prayers of her youth went unanswered, she had cursed herself for her foolishness. Now, she cursed Olympus for ignoring her! But then she worried, what if they stopped ignoring her? What if they came after her? Took away everything she had done? The no-longer-fictional gods joined the ranks of her enemies, and she wasn’t going to wait around for them to find her. Thusly, the search for divine beings began.
First, she had teams of people working on how to travel to the underworld, but that yielded no fruit. Then, she started raiding temples, looking for priests and historians who could help, only to find that even the most devout sects believed in religion only as poetic metaphor. Then, by mere happenstance, she discovered the Chrysanthian Society, and soon she would meet the King of the Gods himself. With one thought, his power would be hers, and this rebellion would be over for good. Hell, maybe she could answer a prayer or two! The gods have been selfish beings and lazy. She would do better. This moment would be the beginning. If only there wasn’t this nagging tug behind her eye. Her son and Sasha still lived. She knew they could never stop her now. She knew it. Only, she had this feeling. This damn feeling…
The passage smelled of burning dust. It let out in an open air hall at the center of which laid a dry, dilapidated fountain, littered with old crates and broken furniture. The room had three archways leading further into the temple, they chose one and went. They temple’s architecture awestruck the travelers. The oak trees of the forest had been bent and manipulated to create the halls and rooms they encountered in what must have been decades, possibly centuries of pruning and shaping, all the boughs connected by textured glass…was that glass? Or spun honey? The labyrinthine layout, they deduced, resembled a snowflake, or possibly a honeycomb, and whichever it was they were headed towards the center of it. Open archways gave way to doorways, and those became more and more numerous. After a dozen wrong turns, they finally came to a straightaway with a significant looking double door at the end ornately decorated with the carving of a tree.
“We have to slow down,” one of the children said suddenly. They all obeyed. They heard a swell of laughter from a side chamber ahead, the door opened and out walked a queen’s guard. The group froze. The guard, preoccupied by mirth, stayed facing the room, pointing jovially at someone inside with his spear, then turned away from our heroes, lazily leaving the door ajar, and walked down the hall, shoulders intermittently rising with remembrance of whatever joke he just heard. He took his place guarding the grand looking door at the end of the hall, and smiled at the band of strangers at the other end. For a moment they thought they had encountered an ally in this guard...then his smile dropped, his eyes widened and his chest expanded, but before he could let out an alarm, a blue hand covered his mouth and pinned down his weapon. The rest of them approached the chamber he had exited and peeked inside. The room was filled with guards, many more than they had anticipated, all too busy laughing to notice the trespassers carefully drawing the door secretly shut. A nearby conversation caught their ears.
“We have to stay in here all night? Is that what’s happening?” one annoyed guard said.
“Just until the big man shows,” another answered. “She doesn’t want us to scare him off or something. Are you going to play a card or what?”
When the door clicked, Cicero placed his hands upon it, and up from the wood sprang a garden of flora whose thick roots and vines wove together creating a strong, organic lock.
“That should hold them for a while,” Cicero reported. He used this same skill to restrain Jove’s squirming guard, attaching the man to the wall and filling his mouth with a magical bunch of berries that grew plump his mouth as fast as he could eat them. “A delicious blend of my own concoction. The flavor is without equal. Enjoy,” he explained. All around them the chamber curved out of sight. This was the center of the honeycomb.
“There will be more guards," Jove whispered. With the twins in front, they walked the circle and encountered three other guards, taking care of each in the same way as the first. “Alright, we’re here,” Jove stated, looking at the twins. “What happens now? Which way is our story going?”
“We will know soon,” the girl said.
“But we don’t tell you, either way,” the boy said definitively. Each person in the group prayed a small prayer, some consciously, some unconsciously, then they opened the door.
A partial ceiling ringed the circular room, but no roof blocked the tree’s view of the sky. An unnaturally voluptuous birch grew at the top of a grassy mound, a privacy curtain surrounded its trunk in anticipation of Chrysanthia’s transformation. Tables laden with food and flowers lined the walls, and members of the temple’s live-in staff scurried about with dishes and decorations. One by one they noticed the visitors and came to a halt. The Prince saw his mother by the birch tree, staring at it so intensely he wondered if they weren’t telepathically conversing.
“Mother,” he called. The Queen turned. Color abandoned her face for a second or two, then made a bold return.
“Hello, my darling boy,” she said, a model of self-control. “Come to kill me?”
“No, just to stop you.”
“Uh-huh.” She examined their party and failed to see any threat whatsoever. She felt a little insulted. “And your plan is what? Show up here and talk me out of it. You didn’t even try to sneak up on me. I’m a little surprised at your laziness. You know I can make each of you my servant with a thought.”
“We know.”
“Oh, so you’re surrendering?”
“You wish.”
“Don’t bate me, son,” she snarled. “My wishes come true.” The Prince stood his ground. The North Star started to glow...
...Then went out. The twins had gone to work suppressing the Queen’s abilities. The group of traitors looked at each other in triumph and relief.
“Surrender, Mother,” the Prince ordered. “We can do this without anyone getting hurt.”
“What’s happening?” she fumed. “Why isn’t this working? Guards! Guards!!” A banging sound echoed down the hall, but no guards appeared. “Chrysanthians, save your queen.” The clerics tried, they tried so hard, but they could no longer remember how to walk. “What’s happening?!” the Queen let out, panicking.
“It’s over,” the Prince declared. “We’re taking the diamond. Your reign is at an end.” The Queen watched our approaching heroes with a fight or flight look in her eyes (flight taking the lead) then, she too lost the use of her legs. Flori came up to her and examined the shiny contraption which housed the North Star. She reached into one of her pockets and removed a small vile of a clear liquid with a strange consistency. With her little finger, she spread it on the metal around the diamond, then with no effort at all she plucked it out of its confine and the silver slipped away from it as limp as spaghetti. The immobile queen squirmed in panicked protestation. So that’s kin, the Prince thought to himself. “Let’s tie her up, then we can start on restoring the members of this order, then the guards.”
Suddenly, a great explosion destroyed the daughter of Atropos, covering her brother in blood and gore. Disbelief came over his face before he, too, exploded into nothing. Everyone looked around in panic, then they realized the attack came from above.
“We have to slow down,” one of the children said suddenly. They all obeyed. They heard a swell of laughter from a side chamber ahead, the door opened and out walked a queen’s guard. The group froze. The guard, preoccupied by mirth, stayed facing the room, pointing jovially at someone inside with his spear, then turned away from our heroes, lazily leaving the door ajar, and walked down the hall, shoulders intermittently rising with remembrance of whatever joke he just heard. He took his place guarding the grand looking door at the end of the hall, and smiled at the band of strangers at the other end. For a moment they thought they had encountered an ally in this guard...then his smile dropped, his eyes widened and his chest expanded, but before he could let out an alarm, a blue hand covered his mouth and pinned down his weapon. The rest of them approached the chamber he had exited and peeked inside. The room was filled with guards, many more than they had anticipated, all too busy laughing to notice the trespassers carefully drawing the door secretly shut. A nearby conversation caught their ears.
“We have to stay in here all night? Is that what’s happening?” one annoyed guard said.
“Just until the big man shows,” another answered. “She doesn’t want us to scare him off or something. Are you going to play a card or what?”
When the door clicked, Cicero placed his hands upon it, and up from the wood sprang a garden of flora whose thick roots and vines wove together creating a strong, organic lock.
“That should hold them for a while,” Cicero reported. He used this same skill to restrain Jove’s squirming guard, attaching the man to the wall and filling his mouth with a magical bunch of berries that grew plump his mouth as fast as he could eat them. “A delicious blend of my own concoction. The flavor is without equal. Enjoy,” he explained. All around them the chamber curved out of sight. This was the center of the honeycomb.
“There will be more guards," Jove whispered. With the twins in front, they walked the circle and encountered three other guards, taking care of each in the same way as the first. “Alright, we’re here,” Jove stated, looking at the twins. “What happens now? Which way is our story going?”
“We will know soon,” the girl said.
“But we don’t tell you, either way,” the boy said definitively. Each person in the group prayed a small prayer, some consciously, some unconsciously, then they opened the door.
A partial ceiling ringed the circular room, but no roof blocked the tree’s view of the sky. An unnaturally voluptuous birch grew at the top of a grassy mound, a privacy curtain surrounded its trunk in anticipation of Chrysanthia’s transformation. Tables laden with food and flowers lined the walls, and members of the temple’s live-in staff scurried about with dishes and decorations. One by one they noticed the visitors and came to a halt. The Prince saw his mother by the birch tree, staring at it so intensely he wondered if they weren’t telepathically conversing.
“Mother,” he called. The Queen turned. Color abandoned her face for a second or two, then made a bold return.
“Hello, my darling boy,” she said, a model of self-control. “Come to kill me?”
“No, just to stop you.”
“Uh-huh.” She examined their party and failed to see any threat whatsoever. She felt a little insulted. “And your plan is what? Show up here and talk me out of it. You didn’t even try to sneak up on me. I’m a little surprised at your laziness. You know I can make each of you my servant with a thought.”
“We know.”
“Oh, so you’re surrendering?”
“You wish.”
“Don’t bate me, son,” she snarled. “My wishes come true.” The Prince stood his ground. The North Star started to glow...
...Then went out. The twins had gone to work suppressing the Queen’s abilities. The group of traitors looked at each other in triumph and relief.
“Surrender, Mother,” the Prince ordered. “We can do this without anyone getting hurt.”
“What’s happening?” she fumed. “Why isn’t this working? Guards! Guards!!” A banging sound echoed down the hall, but no guards appeared. “Chrysanthians, save your queen.” The clerics tried, they tried so hard, but they could no longer remember how to walk. “What’s happening?!” the Queen let out, panicking.
“It’s over,” the Prince declared. “We’re taking the diamond. Your reign is at an end.” The Queen watched our approaching heroes with a fight or flight look in her eyes (flight taking the lead) then, she too lost the use of her legs. Flori came up to her and examined the shiny contraption which housed the North Star. She reached into one of her pockets and removed a small vile of a clear liquid with a strange consistency. With her little finger, she spread it on the metal around the diamond, then with no effort at all she plucked it out of its confine and the silver slipped away from it as limp as spaghetti. The immobile queen squirmed in panicked protestation. So that’s kin, the Prince thought to himself. “Let’s tie her up, then we can start on restoring the members of this order, then the guards.”
Suddenly, a great explosion destroyed the daughter of Atropos, covering her brother in blood and gore. Disbelief came over his face before he, too, exploded into nothing. Everyone looked around in panic, then they realized the attack came from above.
Our story continues in Chapter Twenty...