Avenging (book 3 in The Rising Series)

Chapter 7

Ares heavy feet pounded against stone as he climbed the steps circling a high tower, miles above Siberia. Finally, he broke through the clouds. The clear, blue sky spread out all around him. The clouds were like a billowy carpet below.

The humans didn't know about this place. Hades, the gods didn't even know about it. Zeus and Ares alone came here. The tower was hidden from sight from all who might seek it out. And it was blocked from all who might attempt to transport here—which was why Ares must suffer the climb. Being an extremely fit god, he really didn't tire from the exertion, but he grew quite bored with the journey. It took him the better part of an hour to climb to the top.

The infant in his arms squirmed and squeaked, apparently bothered by the frigid breeze blowing across its skin. The babe had probably never experienced cold until now. The bowels of Hades' realm were always blazing hot. That was the way those Underworlders preferred it.

 Despite the cold, the scratches on Ares arms burned from where the mother clawed him. He could have healed the injuries immediately. Instead, he chose to hold onto them, as he also held onto the anger. The mother had forgotten the events of that night. She'd fought with all the power she could muster. He deflected the blasts of her puny god powers easily, but then she'd clawed him like an animal as he picked up her baby. Now she didn't remember she'd ever borne a child—he suppressed the memories himself. He suppressed the memories of this child from all the gods in the Underworld. But the mother would feel his anger and loathing every time he was forced to suffer her presence on Olympus. She should have respected his position—as second in command to his father, Zeus—she should have denied him nothing! Not even her child.

Finally reaching the top, Ares stepped up to a large, wooden door. It swung open at his silent command. He stepped into a round, stone room with wide windows. Zeus stood before a curtained wall. Ares admired the raw power that radiated from his father. He subdued it when others were around, but there was no reason now. Up here, above the clouds, he let his radiance shine brightly. If Ares were a human, his eyes would have burned away in their sockets.

"Son! I see you do not disappoint," Zeus said as he stepped forward and lifted the blanket. Zeus closed his eyes and breathed in deeply the scent of burning oak. "I can feel the power of this one. Incredible! Fire burns hot within you, son of Kharon."

"Father..." Ares was hesitant to speak his mind, but his father needed to hear. "In the last week, three more goddesses discovered they are with child. That makes five pregnant goddesses. One or even two, we can handle. But five? We may have to let them keep some of these infants."

"They are not keeping them."

"But Father, we'd have to alter the memories of all the gods and goddesses in the Greek Pantheon. That would take more power than—"

"Bring me the five mothers," Zeus interrupted.

"What?" Ares thought he must have heard his father wrong.

"I said, bring me the mothers. Give them any reason you want, but bring them to me."

Ares couldn't think of why he would want these women. Only one of the goddesses was from Olympus. Of the others, two were from the Underworld and two from the sea. One of the goddesses was Amphitrite, wife of Poseidon. Toying with her while she was carrying the sea king's child was dangerous. Ares hoped his father knew what he was doing.

"What if their husbands insist on accompanying them?"

A smile crept across Zeus' face. "Let them."

"I must warn you that one of them is Amphitrite," Ares said.

"Excellent," Zeus said.

Ares couldn't help the astonishment in his voice. "Is it time?"

"It's time," Zeus answered with a wicked smile.