The Heart of War (72 page)

All of these years both Ares and Apollo had been telling their respective versions of the truth when it came to this subject but only Zeus knew that he pit Brother against Brother and Father against Son in his undying quest to rid Olympus of Ares. Olympus had been quiet and peaceful since Ares’ exile. So quiet and peaceful that it was downright boring.

“I saw Ares,” Apollo asserted. “I saw him with Psyche.”

“No, you did not,” Hera said in a firm knowing tone. “You saw what Zeus planted in your head.”

“Then who was it?” Eros demanded, as he looked Ares up and down in shock.  “You must know, Grandfather.  Who took my Wife from me?”

“You’ve done some terrible things in your time, Father, but this is the worst,” Ares hissed as his nostrils flared.  “You exiled me
knowing
I was innocent.  You sent me off to war in the hopes I would die.”  The remaining shreds of his composure suddenly ripped away.  “YOU OWE ME! Heal her!”

Zeus whispered his unapologetic reply.  “It’s a debt I refuse to pay.  I’ve always hated you, Ares. You’re no good, a black stain on my good name. I won’t be responsible for that demon seed of yours taking up space on this planet.”

Oh, well in that case Hera had heard enough.  “He killed Psyche,” Hera announced with cold clarity as the others stood around mumbling and decrying Zeus’ decision.  “Didn’t you, Zeus?  You never liked her either and you finally got rid of her…and Ares.  Two for one,” she chimed.

That sent everyone in the room into an uproar.  Apollo and Aphrodite held Eros back as he began to charge at his Grandfather, fists balled and feathers ruffled.  The little Faeries were all abuzz as were the Nymphs.  Ares rocked on his heels as though a mighty blow had struck him.  Athena could only stare at her Father as she continued pouring energy into Alena’s wounded body, trying to keep her heart pumping.  The blood loss was severe in itself.  Even if Athena could keep Alena’s heart beating, it would not be long before she bled out completely.

“Nicely played, my Wife,” Zeus said in mocking complimentary voice as he watched all of them break out into a rage.  She was a vicious bitch to the end.

“How could you do this, Grandfather? You know how much I loved Psyche,” Eros cried as he struggled in the hold of his Mother and Uncle. “She was
my life
.”

“QUIET!  All of you QUIET!”  Hades shouted.  The room fell silent to his demand.  He took a few more steps toward Alena and Ares blocked his path.  “Uh-uh,” Hades shook a finger in front of Ares’ face, “step back, don’t worry.”

“Don’t worry?”  That was a damn strange thing for Hades to say at a time like this.  Ares backed up but grabbed a hold of Hades’ ungloved hand by the sleeve of his jacket; he twisted it up behind Hades’ back so he couldn’t touch Alena.  When Hades reached out with the other hand, Ares yanked on his arm to keep him upright and watched as the Hand of Death hovered over Alena’s head.

Cocking his head to one side and wearing a very quizzical expression. “Come here, my brother,” Hades said to Zeus and heard Ares let out a warning growl behind him.  “You really have trust issues, Ares.  You should see someone about that.”

“What?” Zeus snapped, unhappy at being called down here with all eyes narrowed on him, knowing what they were all thinking.

“Do you feel it?”  Hades asked again and grabbed Zeus’ nearest hand to hold it over Alena’s lower abdomen.  The area long hidden by the belt and now carrying Ares’ Son.  “Right there.  Feel it?”

Zeus did not dare close his eyes in the midst of these vultures but he kept his hand held out as Hades wanted and concentrated a bit harder.  “Oh no,” he muttered after a few moments.

“Oh yes,” Hades corrected.  “Seems that belt kept more than her virtue captive.”

“What? What is it?” Ares demanded.

Hades turned around with a small grin on his face.  “Immortality, Nephew.  There is a slight spark of it within her, but it is weak.”

“Immortal?” Ares wondered aloud. 

“How?” Zeus demanded.  “What have you done, Ares?”

This was going to give the Old Man a heart attack and Ares was glad he would be here to see it.  “Alena is Cernunnos’ Granddaughter.”  That was how she raised the Power to break Adrian’s spell upon Ares, how she used the Staff to break the pots, how she moved the boulder, and why she could take him inside of her, every last inch, and coo for more.  All Ares had to do was get her through this and he wouldn’t have to worry about having a mere thousand nights with her; they would every night and every day together for thousands of years to come.  “She will live?”

To that, Hades frowned.  “Still iffy, I’m afraid,” he said finally.  “She needs a… a…jump start.  Without it, Ares, she will still die.  Soon.  She is in much pain.  If she were able, she would be screaming at the top of her lungs and writhing on the ground.”

“Even so, she’s dreaming about you,” Morpheus spoke.

Ares looked past his Uncle to his Lover, wishing he could see what she was dreaming.  “What does she dream?”

“She danced for you.”  Morpheus spoke quietly as he poked around in Alena’s mind teetering on the brink of Death.  “You made her feel safe, loved, hmmm,” Morpheus grinned a little, “Sexy. She never felt that before.”  He added with a little lilt in his voice.  “She wanted to please you.”

Ares nodded and began to feel his breaking heart cry out in anguish as the memory of the last night they made love came to him. “You did.  It was a good night,” Ares whispered to Alena as though she could hear him. “The best.” He held her cool limp hand to his lips. Letting go of the façade, Ares let his heart speak. Unashamed of his emotions for the first time, possibly in his entire life, heedless of those around him, Ares started to sing to her, very softly and very low. “Ain’t too proud to beg, sweet darlin’, please don’t leave me girl, don’t you go.”

Hera couldn’t take it any longer. She knew what was called for here and if Zeus would not comply then she would just have to step in and take control. “Move aside,” she commanded as she walked toward where Alena lay and Ares stood. “You love her? With all your heart?” she demanded of Ares. 

“With all my being,” Ares swore.

“Enough to
sacrifice
for her?  Of
yourself
?”

“You are not the only one who rules here!” Hera shouted back.  “I know, I allow you to forget this fact but not today, so stand there and be quiet!”  She turned back to look at Ares.  “I want my Grandson raised here on Olympus with his Family.  I want to be part of his life.  I want to hold him, teach him, I want to guide him and watch him grow strong.  Since your exile has been found to be unjust, you
will
return.  You
will
take back your Crown, your Scepter, you
will
resume living here as an Olympian, as one of us.  We are this child’s Family, all that he has.  He deserves to know us and to take his rightful place among us.”

“I hate you, woman,” Zeus seethed.

“Suck it up,” was Hera’s best advice.  “Why don’t
you
stop being a brat and be a big boy, Zeus.”

One thing Ares could always say about Hera was she really knew the sweetest spot to plant the dagger.  The last thing he wanted was to return to Olympus or have his Son raised here.  “This is extortion!” Alena was going to hate it here on Olympus. Every moment, she’d be terrified, always looking over her shoulder to see if Eros, Apollo or Zeus was hot on her heels.  What could he do? It was either a life here or no life at all. It was an offer he simply could not refuse. Feeling as though he were making a deal with the Devil rather than with his own Mother, Ares looked down at Alena lying on the table and took her hand up in his own.  Now he knew how Alena felt when Cernunnos dragged her away to perform the Ritual; he had no choice left to him and neither did Alena.  

Not necessarily wanting to put himself in the middle of this Family dispute, Lord Elvin cleared his throat before daring to butt into the conversation and quite bravely said, “We are Maggie’s Family and therefore we are the boy’s Family as well.  He should be raised with us, in our lands.  Taught our ways.”  Maggie was not a Faery but she had been raised in their lands and they all thought of her and the Feys as Family.  They did not want to be locked out of the boy’s life or Maggie’s now that she had been found after so long.  “She is not an Olympian; she does not belong here in the cold and the snow.”

“Shut up, bug man,” Ares growled, “or I’ll swat you like a fly.”  The Lord of the Faeries scowled at the God of War with his old wrinkled face and shook an angry tiny finger at him before fluttering back to his band of followers and safety.  Yet, Elvin had a point and Ares had made a promise, one that he was looking forward to keeping.  “I promised Alena I would show her this world.”

“I don’t want to keep you prisoner, but I do expect you to
live
here
. Do you want my help or not?” Hera countered.

Of course, he wanted it.  Alena was growing paler and her hand a little colder. She couldn’t hold on much longer waiting for him to rescue her. “Done,” Ares whispered.

“Good,” Hera announced proudly just as she reached out, grabbed her Son by the collar of his vest and yanked him downward.  Ares let out a cry of surprise at her strength and wobbled on his feet for a moment trying to keep his balance.  “Take it off,” she whispered as she let go of the collar.  Ares, still leaning over Alena, stripped himself of the vest and the weapons attached to it.  “Hold on to something, Ares, this is going to hurt,” she advised just before she planted the palm of her hand over his heart.  “A lot.”

“Hera!  I’m warning you, woman!”

“SILENCE!”  The Goddess of the Gods shouted back at her Husband and then let fly a bolt of a green lightning that knocked Zeus off his feet.  “I’ve had about all that I can take of you!  If you cannot welcome our Grandson into this world with open arms then you are free to LEAVE HERE any time you like,” she threatened.

Zeus just sat on the black marble floor of his grand Palace, his heart racing so fast he was sure it would explode in his chest even as his lungs scrambled for breath.  “You’ll be sorry,” he said weakly.  “Mark my words, that child is nothing but pain.”

Hera didn’t listen to her Husband.  Instead, she grabbed Ares once more, this time by his long raven locks and pulled him back down to Alena, battered and bruised on the dining table.  Putting one hand over Ares heart and the other over the gaping hole in Alena’s chest where Hera could actually see Alena’s heart struggling to beat as it gurgled blood all over the still woman, Hera took a deep breath and summoned up all of her considerable Powers. 

Suddenly a great wind whipped up from out of nowhere.  It blew the doors to the dining room wide open and stormed its way inside to blow a hurricane in Zeus’ dining room.

“Oh Gods!” Ares cried out and grabbed a hold of the table to keep himself standing over the woman he loved rather than crashing down upon her with his full weight.  Somewhere deep inside of him, in some long forgotten corner or corridor, something opened and caused a great jarring pain in the heart of the God of War.  It was as though someone was stabbing him from the inside trying to push its way through his chest and burst free of his muscular body.  “Mother!” Ares gasped as sweat broke out on his forehead and weakness crept into his knees, making him grip the marble table harder.

“You said anything,” Hera hissed.  “You said you would sacrifice of yourself for her.  Did you lie?”

“No,” Ares whispered.  “Anything for her.”   He began to wonder when this torture would reach its crescendo and if he could hold out that long. Looking down, sure that he was going to see the tip of a dagger or a sword making its way out of him, there was a strange cracking sound inside of him, almost as though his ribs had burst open for no apparent reason and it felt much the same way.  Something deep within him seeped through the new crack and was momentarily stopped by the inside of his flesh but it didn’t hold it back, instead it leaked through his pores like sweat.  It was red and warm; droplets of it oozed out and tangled in the thick hair at his chest.  At first Ares thought it was his own Ichor but Ichor did not glow as this did, Ichor didn’t glow at all.  It did not sparkle and catch the light like diamonds.  Ichor was liquid and remained so but this did not.  Instead, it turned vaporous and rose on the wind like gold dust to glitter in the air around them.

Those gathered and witnessing gasped and held onto each other as they watched the Essence of the God of War swirling in the air above and around them.  In turn, it seemed to stare at each one of them almost as though it could see them, see into them.  As though it was sizing them up as it made decisions before Hera directed it back where she wanted it and Alena needed it.  Drawing harder and focusing her concentration tighter than a laser beam, she pulled Ares’ Essence from his soul, out through his heart, and then through his skin.  She brought it through her fingertips and pushed it out through the other hand holding Alena’s exposed heart.  Sparkling red mist emitted from Hera’s hand and fingers.  It settled around Alena’s struggling heart but it did not enter.  It tried but it was as though were some unseen force blocking its entry.