The Heart of War (69 page)

“My child?”

Unhappily reminded of the parasite growing inside her Cernunnos’ eyes turned cold once more as they narrowed on her. “You want to know the truth, Maggie? I’ll give it to you; I will tell you what Ares has not. That thing in you is an abomination. A diseased creature that will bring glory to Ares but to you it will bring nothing but pain and heartache even before it draws its first breath.” Shaking his head Cernunnos found his patience at its end. “Enough questions. Begin.”

Feeling completely lost and helpless, Alena gazed down at the Book of Shadows once more and skimmed over the Ritual she was to perform. She understood it. It made sense to her and she was familiar with many aspect of Druidic Ritual even though they were reserved only for men to conduct and participate in. None of that meant she could conjure up the energy it would require to integrate the captive souls into Cernunnos’ body, thereby giving him the Powers and Talents of each God trapped within the bottles. “All right,” she agreed, “but if I end up turning you into a frog or something don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

2

Ares glanced down at the disheveled Goddess of Love from the corner of his eye and chuckled at her predicament. “Bad plan. Find another.” That was his best advice.

“But if you’re going to….”

“Shhhush!” Ares hissed. “Escaping takes concentration.”

If Cernunnos thought Ares was just going to hang here while that horny bastard took off with Alena, he had another thing coming. Working his fingers upward on the chain, he gathered it into his palms and used it, and the strength in those powerful pythons he called arms, to raise himself up and ease the dead weight off his wrists. Looking behind him, he thought the stone wall to which he was harnessed was too close for his purposes but then he reconsidered his approach to the problem. Getting a good grasp on the linked chain, he took in a deep breath and slowly began to raise his wounded legs straight out in front of him using the muscles in his lower back, stomach, and his arms. He did his best not to favor the injured right forearm, his strong arm, his fighting arm.

Once he was in what a gymnast would call the ‘L’ position, with his legs straight out in front of him, he let out the breath only to hear it whistle through the hole in his chest. That forced him to take another as he repositioned his hands on the chain that was starting to swing. Swinging was something Ares did not want and so he held his position, arms starting to show signs of strain as the veins popped through the thick muscle below his taut skin, until the swinging stopped.

Folding those long tree trunk legs up in front of him like a gymnast until his knees pressed to his nose he let it out and then took another breath. This time as he breathed he let the chain slip through his hands for a few rings, letting out the slack he’d created and hoped it would give him enough clearance from the ceiling to complete the most difficult part of this little maneuver, which was just ahead of him and Ares readied himself for it. Baring down on those tight abs and back muscles as he pulled with shoulders and his arms, Ares very delicately and deftly turned himself into a pretzel until his feet were over his head and his torso followed until his toes found the wall behind him.

Ares was no longer hanging by the chains. With his bare feet pressed to the wall, he was lying down in mid-air. “Nice trick. Now what?” Aphrodite scoffed as she watched him try to make his escape.

“Now…this.”

The shackles on his wrists hung on their chains which, in turn, were bolted to the stone wall behind him. While the shackles had been forged by Hephaestus, the rings of the chain, the plate in the stone wall and the bolts fastening it all together had not. Pushing with those long strong legs and pulling with those equally powerful arms, it wasn’t long before the creaks of protest were heard from the ancient bolts imbedded in the stone wall.

Sitting there watching him struggle, Aphrodite found she was becoming a little heated. She always did love it when Ares worked hard and got all sweaty as he was now. Muscles straining neck to calves while beads of sweat broke out on his bare torso, making it glisten to show the strength of his efforts. As he worked, Ares began to grunt and groan. In peril or not, a shiver went through her, shot down from her head to her spine and settled in that wanton space between her legs.

“Ahh! Give you bitch!” Ares shouted the demand and the bolts gave out another loud creak.

“Keep going!” Aphrodite encouraged as she watched the bolts begin to move as he strained against them. “You’re doing it.”

Sweat broke out on his brow, it ran into his eyes, making them sting and vision nearly nonexistent. The hole in his chest, which had somehow missed his heart, ached as it whistled with every ounce of breath for which Ares struggled. If his thigh weren’t gouged this would be easier. Letting out a grunt that made its way down to a constant low growl at the back of his throat, Ares stopped struggling for a moment as he tried to catch what breath he could before he really put his back into it.

One more attempt. The growl at the back of his throat reverberated until it became it began a constant guttural tone. Ares summoned up every ounce of physical strength he could find in his old tattered body. The bolts on the heavy iron plate holding the chains in place gave out their loudest creak but it was the hooks on the plates that gave out first. The eyehook on the left popped like a champagne cork. For a moment, Ares hung there in the air with his left arm hanging down threatening to take the rest of him with it and foil the plan. He fought to hold onto the chain with his wounded right arm and then bring the left up to join it. A last hard push and the eyehook on the right snapped. Ares fell to the dirt floor of Cernunnos’ Dungeon.

“If I didn’t see it I wouldn’t believe it. I had no idea you were still so nimble, Lover,” Aphrodite remarked as she watched him roll over onto his back and then haul himself to his feet. “Well done. Now…do me,” she insisted.

“Do you?” Ares mocked. “I think I’ve had enough of that but you do have something I need.” With a cold determination fixed on his face, Ares took two steps toward her. Aphrodite, with nowhere to go, cringed as he reached out for her with both hands. She let out a little cry when they landed in her fallen hair and began to tug. “Ah, there.” Ares plucked a hairpin from Aphrodite’s hair, pried it open with his teeth, and used it to pick the locks on the shackles at his wrists. They fell to the floor with a hard clunk. “Ha!” Ares declared in victory. “Hephaestus was a great blacksmith; thank the Gods he was a lousy locksmith,” Ares muttered. “Now, where is he taking her? What does he want from Alena?”

“I don’t know.”

“Haven’t you lied enough?” Ares smoldered. “Look here, hmmm? Where did that come from, hmmm?” he said through gritted teeth as he pointed at the wood board and the Pear of Anguish sitting on top. “I know it is mine. I also know I cast it into the ocean. You gave it to Cernunnos. You led my brother and my sister here to their deaths. You betrayed all of us and for what? The promise of shared power?”

“No,” Aphrodite protested. In the case of Artemis, that was the truth. “I had no idea what Cernunnos was up to.”

Ares upper lip curled again as he leaned in close to the chained Goddess. “Then you’re even more pathetic than I thought,” Ares spat and was struck by the blank stare in her pretty blue eyes. “You don’t get it do you? Cernunnos is going to destroy this entire WORLD and you’ve helped him do it.”

“I didn’t know,” she said in a small voice. “You have to believe me, I didn’t know.”

Ares leaned back and gauged her closely. “Sadly, Aphrodite, I do believe you’re that stupid and self-centered. That naïve and ignorant. For once in your life, think of someone other than yourself; where did Cernunnos take Alena and what does he want from her?” Ares growled, at the end of his patience. If she didn’t answer him, he was just going to beat it out of her.

“The Great Hall,” Aphrodite stammered after a moment. “He wants her to…to…integrate all of those souls into him. He thinks she has some magick or something just because she’s his Granddaughter,” she scoffed.

“His
what
?” Ares anger boiled over. In that case, perhaps Alena could pull off this Ritual…were she stronger. Had he not forced her to blast over a dozen clay pots to dust earlier today. That was quite enough energy for anyone to expend on their first try. He should have stopped after the first round. Alena had little energy left in her. Ares saw that clearly when she looked into his eyes. “Listen to me,” he leaned in toward Aphrodite once more, grabbed up one wrist and stuck the hairpin into the shackle to pick it then he did the same with the other. When she tried to move, he grabbed both wrists and laid her hands against his bare chest only to hear her let out a little squeal of excitement. Her eyes grew wide as her lips pursed just as her tongue flicked out along them and her heart began to race. “Heal me. I know you can do it. Help me fight him. Help me stop him before he annihilates everything, including you.” He would heal himself if he could, but Ares had absolutely no Power to Heal and if she didn’t do this then he would have to wait days for his body to recover and he didn’t have that luxury.

Although it wasn’t exactly what she was hoping Ares was going to say, that sounded like a fair deal to Aphrodite and she never did like to see Ares all bruised and battered, he was much too handsome for that. Her Power to Heal wasn’t as great as say Zeus’ or Hera’s but Aphrodite could heal lesser wounds; cuts, burns, gashes that weren’t too deep or serious, bruises, broken bones, but she couldn’t cure any disease or heal wounds that called Hades’ attention and were considered fatal. Ares’ wounds weren’t fatal, even if he were Mortal; eventually he would heal from them with some tending and care. Summoning up the magick that was returning to her, Aphrodite used it to heal his gaping wounds and return his full strength to his brawny body. “There. Better?”

“Much,” Ares replied in a deep voice full of piss and vinegar. He felt a thousand times better than he had a moment ago. With a slight grin, he looked down at Aphrodite who was looking up at him waiting for him to tell her what the next move would be.

Aphrodite was very surprised when Ares pushed her back against the wall and slapped the shackles on her wrists. “Wait! Stop! What are you doing?” Aphrodite shrieked, angry at being tricked for the second time in one day.

Ares just walked away from her to grab up his vest, which was dumped in a corner by the board and the Pear of Anguish. He gave that a long hateful stare before he picked it up only to toss it high in the air and obliterate it with a fireball from his palm. “Ha!”

“Ooo!” Aphrodite let out a scared cried as he exploded and small metal shards rained down upon them.

Flexing his fingers first and then the rest of his muscles he exclaimed. “I feel good!” Alena would never have to be afraid of that again. In the blink of his deep onyx eyes, the rest of his armor and weapons were once more in place, all but the sword, which Cernunnos had in his possession, but not for long.

“Hey! Wait! What about me?” Aphrodite cried as Ares began to turn toward the stairs.

The God of War turned around and took in the Goddess of Love in the chains her Husband forged, her arms high over her head, her pretty alabaster cheeks ever so lightly bruised and stained with dirt, honey blonde hair fallen about her shoulders. “You can just…hang out here.”

3

Alena did her best to follow the instructions to the letter. She made Cernunnos stand directly at the center of the altar in front of her, facing South, and surrounded him with all of his colorful little bottles. She chanted as she lit the candles around him.

“Faoi chumhacht an Dóiteáin, a thabhairt dom le Raidió na Life go bhfuil fonn orm.”

(By the power of the Fire, I bring to Life that which I desire)

Until all five black candles at his feet were lit and burning brightly. Outside, just past the great walls to the fortress, the wildfire grew by leaps and bounds.

Lighting the incense—a mixture of Dragon’s Blood, Sage, and Sandalwood—with a wooden match, she walked around him again making sure that smoke wafted up from hooves to horns. The mixture burned hot and quick, soon the whole room was filling up with the richly scented smoke as she smudged the Great Horned God. As she breathed it in, she found it intoxicating and wanted more of the heady scent. Cernunnos took great deep breaths of it, bringing it up to his nose with his hands, and inhaling to fill his large lungs, holding each breath before he let it go again. Again, she chanted:

“Faoi chumhacht an Aeir, I gceannas ar fad le feiceáil anseo.”

(By the power of the Air, I command All to appear.)

Wind whipped up just as Alena finished her chant and came back to her starting point. Even through the closed window, she could hear it howling. The room began to feel Charged as the Sacred Smoke overtook the scent of the wildfire burning beyond the walls. Crossing back to the altar, Alena took up the clear crystal bowl filled with pure spring water. Taking a heavy pinch of salt from a small wooden container, she added it and stirred it with the tip of her finger. Taking up the bowl, she returned to where Cernunnos stood and repeated the same patter. She dipped a bunch of tightly held together Rowan twigs into the bowl and then casting the water into the air in little droplets.

“Faoi chumhacht an Uisce, arna thoghairm go léir a bheidh chun déanamh de mo”

(By the power of the Water, All summoned obey my order.)

Outside where the fire raged and the wind howled, the skies suddenly opened up and ushered forth fat drops of cold rain.

Now, according to the Book of Shadows, it was time to Cast the Circle but before she could begin, “I need a sword,” she muttered.

“I know. Try this one.” Cernunnos smiled slyly as he handed over Ares’ sword. “Be a good girl now, no nasty thoughts of taking my head off.” Any thoughts of her using the sword as a weapon quickly vanished when Cernunnos let go of the blade and Maggie stumbled forward with the weight of it in her hands. “Careful now, my dear, you don’t want to break anymore of my precious bottles.”