The Heart of War (67 page)

“Some days, it’s really good to be me,” Ares remarked just as he was about to teleport to the battle, then he saw four small balls of light zipping around in the dome. With the smoke so thick and deep he couldn’t be sure of where they had come from but he watched them burst through the barrier flying high up into the sky to escape the flames. Three of them kept on flying, up, up, up and away. One hovered in the air, it stopped and seemed to consider something, and then it turned in his direction and came toward him. Ares raised his sword with one hand and conjured a fireball in the other. Yet, the little ball of light stopped about five yards from him and simply hovered there. “Come on if you’re coming!” Ares dared, not knowing what kind of magick he was facing.

“Ares?”

The voice was faint, soft, and familiar. “Artemis?” Before his wondering eyes, the little ball of light turned into the ghostly shape of his long lost sister. “Oh, my Sister.” He did not know what was going on down there but somehow Alena managed to free Artemis from her captivity in a colorful little crystal bottle.

Frightened but happy to be free, Artemis looked back toward the fortress. “He has my friend, Maggie. Please free her, my Brother. Do not kill her, she’s nothing to do with this.”

“I know,” Ares returned, still dumbfounded by the vision. “I will rescue her, I love her.”

“Love?” The Goddess of the Hunt wanted to join in the fight and help Ares but she could do nothing. Artemis was only a soul; as such, she had no power left here on this Earth. She was very happy to know that her brooding brutish brother had fallen in love with little Maggie. To her the match seemed perfect. “I miss you.” She floated a little closer to Ares, wishing she could touch him one last time.

“And I you. So much.” Ares, even though he knew it was impossible, couldn’t help but reach out for her hand. It passed right through her. “Go, Artemis, go to your Reward. Hades will care for you now. When you get there tell him Cernunnos is not far behind.”

“Good-bye, Ares.” The apparition of his once lively sister turned back into a little ball of light and shot into the air, leaving Ares behind.

Feeling heartened by the sight of his Sister, Ares charged on. Nearly certain the tunnels would now be empty as the guards would come running to aid in the fight taking place on the walls and in the courtyard, Ares was torn between sneaking in and continuing his full-frontal assault of the fortress. A full-on charge would be quickest and he liked the sight of those cracks in the dome. Remembering what Alena told him on the beach regarding a similar dome that had encased Adrian, he teleported to the very top of the dome and looked down. It was difficult to see through the smoke, but if there was anyone moving around down there they were only writhing and gasping for breath. Most of the energy bolts of the staffs landed on the upper portions of the dome and he quickly found a huge spider-web crack. Drawing the sword, Ares began to pound upon it with the blade. Sweat flew from his brow as sparks flew from the metal as it struck the magickal dome over and over. With each mighty strike, the dome shook and the crack widened just a bit further. Putting his back into his work even though his brawny arms were starting to ache, Ares continued to hammer; as he did he added in the stomp of his heavy boot between hits to further aid his effort.

All the while, the blazing forest fire crept closer to the fortress.

5

Before Cernunnos’ hand could strike Maggie, a great explosion rocked the fortress. Debris fell from the ceiling as the Great Hall shook and rumbled like thunder.

Wishing Ares had made his entrance only seconds sooner, she found the strength to peek up at Cernunnos, who was staring around the room in disbelief as the windows blew out even behind the protection of the dome. The night sky lit up as red and hot as the Ninth Circle of Hell. “You’re in trouble now, mister,” she whispered. “Ares is here. You’re dead.”

The guards were too late to stop the elation rising within her or the lump in her throat as Alena stared at the black night suddenly turned red. “Dead,” she hissed in victory as the guard’s hands fell upon her.

“Watch it, Maggie, or you’ll lead the way to Hell for me,” Cernunnos warned, upset and dismayed that his plan would have to wait. “Get her out of here; take her back to her cell.” The Great Horned God stood there and watched while the Druids dragged her out of the room. “Don’t take your eyes off of her!” he roared as he went to the window for his first look and did not feel the elation that Alena had felt as he stared at the fiery night.

6

Hurrying down the staircase to the Dungeon with guards on either side of her, Alena skittered past the Goddess of Love still in her chains. The cell door slammed behind her but she was already on the smelly straw-filled cot, curled up in her finer robes and crying. “Mama, mama. I’m so sorry, mama. Oh god! Mama.”

Aphrodite had been subjected to the groping of the guards but not a full-on assault as, in the end, each of them had been too chickenshit to violate the Goddess of Love. They pawed at her, kissed her, ran their hands over her and through her hair. One of them was even bold enough to run his hand between her legs as she tried to fight them off. Moments before the place began to rock on its foundation—which happened to be where she was—they seemed to decide not to go through with it. Then the explosions hit and after they finished ducking for cover, they sprinted up the stairs and out of sight.

With her arms still chained behind her head, Aphrodite looked over at Alena weeping in the cell. Just before she opened her mouth to taunt the little Fey and return the favor, Alena curled up in a tight little ball and starting crying for her mother like a little girl. Aphrodite looked toward the stairs but neither heard nor saw anyone. The old woman, the one Cernunnos called Mae, was not returning. Mae had been with him a long time though up until this moment Aphrodite did not know she was Alena’s mother. Perhaps she should have in that Mae and Alena looked very much alike with their gray/silver hair and their gray eyes. Cernunnos kept that poor woman prisoner here more than two centuries, his own Daughter if she heard their earlier conversation correctly. Over the years, Aphrodite had come to feel for Mae and even like her. She was always very kind whenever Aphrodite came around although there was always so much sadness in her eyes. Feeling a bit of heaviness settle on her heart, Aphrodite realized she would miss the woman.

The gut-wrenching sounds of sorrow and the wailing of the woman in the cell could not help but touch the heart of the Goddess of Love even further. He must have slain Mae right before Alena’s eyes. That was a terrible thing for anyone to endure. Although she still held a deep hatred for Alena, one that would end only when one of them did the same, she too was a Mother and a Daughter. Aphrodite, despite her treachery, did understand Family and all that it entailed.

He was a monster beyond compare and she was heartily sorry she’d ever become involved with Cernunnos.

7

“My Lord! My Lord!” one of the Druids cried as he rushed around the corner and into Cernunnos’ throne room. “He’s killed them! He hasn’t even broken through the shield yet and he’s killed almost all of them!”

Cernunnos did not need the report; he could see the carnage from his window. His Druid guards lay dead in heaps on the ground, suffocated. Although he could not see Ares through the smoke, the ringing sound of his blade striking against the top of the dome was almost enough to drive him insane. It echoed like a massive church bell and he was in the center of it. Without hesitation he turned on his hooves and threw a streak of lightning at the man who’d come to inform him, dropped him dead where he stood. “Idiot,” Cernunnos snarled and turned back to the window, thankful it was made of good old-fashioned glass, so far the smoke had yet to invade the tower of his fortress. The sight of Mae’s corpse on the floor caught his attention. Soon Ares would break through the dome and begin slaughtering everything in his way as he hunted for Maggie. “You want her, Ares? Come and get her.”

8

Atop the dome Ares continued his relentless assault, hammering away upon the magickal force field with his mighty sword and his mighty foot. Suddenly, as the heel of his biker boot struck down, everything around him seemed to go absolutely silent for one very long second. Then the spider-web at his feet began to tendril outward from its center, making the tiniest little cracking sound as it zipped through the dome.

It did not just give way. It shattered like fine crystal. The entire top splintered and then began to fall.

Ares fell with it, from the top of the dome to the ground, a distance of some fifty feet. Sword held high in the air over his head, Ares landed like a wolf, on both feet but hunched down on his haunches to make the smallest possible target for anyone willing to strike at him through the black smoke. It stung his eyes, made them tear and his vision blur as it assaulted his nose and his lungs. Olympians were very fond of air but could go an extended period without breathing; now the God of War held his breath, massive lungs full of clean air. He waved his sword in the air and the smoke around him began to disperse upward through the faulty dome. Still low to the ground, as the smoke cleared he held his sword close looking around with wild eyes for any signs of an attack. All he saw were the bodies coming into his view. Dead and dying men everywhere, twenty or thirty of them, Ares figured. Cernunnos must have sent all of his remaining men to guard the fortress when the attack began. “Sorry boys,” he muttered, looking at the corpses strewn about, some in small heaps and others alone having fallen on their way to the safety of the tower. “Maybe in the next life you’ll choose your sides wiser.” He swiped a hand across his face glistening with sweat as he let the heat surrounding him soak into his brawny frame. Beyond the twenty-foot high stone walls the fire raged closer and closer. Time was growing shorter; soon the greedy flames would be upon them, consuming whatever they could. Spurred by the blowing winds, the wall would not stop them; they would jump over the top of it to ignite anything in their way, including the wood gutters, shutters, doors, windowpanes, and roof of the tower.

Alena was in the tower before him, Ares was sure of it. Whether she was being held prisoner at the top in Cernunnos’ bedroom—disgusting pig that he was—or at the bottom in the dungeon, Ares didn’t know. Since the basement was apt to be closer than the top, he thought he would start there when he made his entrance. With no one left to challenge him or stand in his way here in the courtyard, Ares sprinted over to the door of the tower and kicked in the ten-foot high door made of rowan and hanging on cast iron hinges, with a strong thrust of his leg.

The entryway was empty. No sign of anyone at all, not even the lingering scent of a Celt recently having been here. However Cernunnos got in and out of this place, it wasn’t through the front door. The long corridor decorated with heavy tapestries, suits of armor, antlers, and the like, stretched out before him. Ares kept his sword at the ready as he went forward cautiously; his body held to the side so that anyone attacking from the front met with his formidable armor, and glancing behind him every few steps. His heart began to race as he went deeper into the fortress and began to catch the faintest whiffs of Alena rising on the air, telling him that she was close. At the end of the hall there was a small greeting room, which was empty, and a doorway, which would lead him out into the main area of the first floor of Cernunnos’ tower. Standing on the side of the doorjamb, Ares poked his head through, glanced left, then right, before emerging into the barren room and beholding an awful sight.

At the end of the room, a woman sat on the floor, her hands bound behind her to a stone pillar and her head hanging down, her gray hair matted with blood. “Alena?” Ares whispered, hoping she would raise her head but she did not. It was a trap, it had to be, and yet he could not resist going to her aid. “Alena?” he whispered again, still with no response. “Maggie?” Ares inched closer to her, his heart racing with all the force of a hurricane as he listened for the slightest sound of anyone trying to come up from behind him. He heard nothing but the sound of his own thundering heart. That was a very bad sign. With dread wandering through him, Ares legs went faster and faster until he was sprinting towards her, heedless of any hidden dangers. “Alena?” If Cernunnos killed her, if she was dead and tied to that post, nothing in the heavens would save Cernunnos from Ares’ wrath.

Dear Gods in Heaven, don’t let me be too late,
Ares prayed as he dropped to his knees before the wounded bloody woman with her head turned to the side. “Alena? My Love, look at me. Please look at me.” Ares reached under her chin to tilt her face toward him. There was no face staring back at him, only the open skull of a woman. Ares let out a scream. “Alena!” Just as Ares’ arms reached out to enfold her, Cernunnos appeared behind them.

“Sucker,” he snarled.

Then the stone floor gave way and Ares was falling again. It was a very short fall with a very abrupt and painful end as he landed upon several sharp spikes. They pierced his thighs, his forearms and his chest as they impaled him. Then a blessed blackness descended upon the God of War.