The God of Clay and Fennel Fire: A Retelling of The Golden Goose

Chapter V: Bones Over Bones

"Are you sure this is right?"

Prometheus rolled his eyes in Deucalion's direction. "You're starting to sound like Epimetheus. He's been trying to get me to reveal my plan at the same time as trying to convince me to drop it."

Deucalion paused. "I meant the timing. We could wait until a drearier day. It would throw Zeus off, knowing that this tempers of dark clouds wouldn't really have the same effect. "

Prometheus winced. "Oh. Sorry. And I'm not sure about the timing. You're right about throwing him off, but at the same time, we want him to be confident and stupid, just like he usually is. We don't want him to be suspicious and second guess his first instinct."

"Wouldn't he get suspicious if we're even a bit cooperative?"

"He might be, but I'll be glowering in a corner while you do most of the talking. He hasn't met you yet and had no reason to think you are as clever as you are. Everyone knows most of the other men aren't."

Deucalion nodded. "Not sure whether to take that as a compliment to my mind or an insult to my face."

"You're pretty much me. It's a compliment."

The two men stood in the middle of the square, the afternoon sun bearing down on them like a thick woollen blanket. Dust clouded up with every step. Workers milled about their work, crossing the square back and forth, but still leaving a circle of air room around the altars.

Mecone, the city, was growing quickly. Since Prometheus' and Deucalion's talk in front of the Crumbling House, the young man had doubled his efforts in his building projects and within two weeks, he had finally finished laying out the square and flattening the land. He had even organized work groups and assigned them to specific buildings. Prometheus half-considered retiring to the cold mountains and letting Deucalion have his way with the city. The end result would probably be the same.

And the first sacrifice was only in a few hours. The two men had come together and formed a plan. It was sneaky and deceptive and dirty. Hades would be proud.

In fact, the only thing that bothered Prometheus was the lack of rain. He expected this type of dry and unrelenting weather on the slopes of Kryphis, not in Mecone, which had a sea to the west and forests in two other directions. But still, the sun shone down and it, unfortunately, wasn't possible to have the entire city move into the sea.

"When is he supposed to arrive?" Deucalion asked, placing another layer of twigs on the first altar.

"He's Zeus. He'll arrive whenever he feels like it. Which will probably be when it is the most inconvenient for us."

Deucalion laughed. "Sounds like you, a bit. You always tend to come around to supervise my work when something is going terribly wrong."

Prometheus grinned. "I still say you do it on purpose to annoy me."

"What? Me? Never."

They chuckled and continued outfitting the two altars with dry sticks and straw.

"I'll get the sacrifice," Deucalion announced before disappearing into the crowds.

Prometheus leaned against an altar and opened his flask. He took a long sip and dumped the rest on his head.

He looked to the north where he knew Epimetheus probably was. In the forest, surrounded by his personal pets as he gorged himself on fruit and wine. At least he was easily amused. Prometheus had barely heard from his brother in a week, other than one small complain about hunters getting a little too close to his clearing.