Need to catch up?<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
At first light, Fiona woke to Chariclo and her daughter, Melannipe, come to dress her for the trip to Hera\u2019s temple. Though Fiona had only slept for what felt like a few minutes, she rose and let them drape her in a dusky rose-colored chiton held together at the shoulders by small seashell buttons. Melannipe used her watery fingers to deftly maneuver the sides of the garment together, overlapping the fabric and securing the folds with a golden cord around Fiona\u2019s waist.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cThis is beautiful,\u201d Fiona said softly to ease the tension that had entered the room with the two women. Chariclo, who\u2019d been so concerned and welcoming before, might as well have frozen over. That only made Fiona desperately, demonstratively grateful, which in turn just seemed to irritate Chariclo further.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n Fiona lifted the hem of the skirt carefully, fully aware of her lack of undergarments. Not that the nearly transparent material hid much, especially in the places where Melannipe\u2019s touch had soaked it through. Fiona wouldn\u2019t argue about it and risk upsetting Chariclo more. Fingering the embroidery along the hem, Fiona asked, \u201cDid you do this, Melanippe?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n Before she could answer, Chariclo cut in with a flat, \u201cI did it. I had hoped to wear this to my daughter\u2019s joining in the temple of Hera.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n With her stomach churning at the awkwardness, Fiona quickly apologized. \u201cOh, I had no idea! I don\u2019t want to take your mother-of-the-bride dress from you.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n It became instantly apparent that she had not responded appropriately. The white crest of a violent wave crashed through Chariclo. \u201cYou mean to insult me by turning down my gift?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n At what point did I piss in your ocean?<\/span><\/i> Fiona held the retort on her tongue. She\u2019d intruded on their lives. She was the inconvenience, not Chariclo. \u201cI just meant, I came here with my own clothes. There\u2019s no reason you have to give me such an important and sentimental item. And I would never expect you to. I\u2019m a stranger.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n Chariclo wrinkled her nose, deep lines of sea foam forming a scowling brow. \u201cAnd now you would prefer to present yourself before Hera in filthy clothes reeking of mortal blood?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n Melanippe stepped between the two of them. \u201cThis will be easier to ride in, anyway,\u201d she burbled happily.<\/span><\/p>\n Chariclo glided away, still roiling with whitecaps.<\/span><\/p>\n Unsure of how well astrals could hear, Fiona waited far long than was comfortable before she spoke again. \u201cI\u2019m really sorry for all this trouble I\u2019m causing everyone. And I didn\u2019t mean to insult your mother. It seemed like it bothered her to give me this and the last thing\u2014\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cIt has nothing to do with you,\u201d Melanippe interrupted gently. \u201cBut leave now, so she doesn\u2019t have a chance to say another unfriendly word.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n Fiona took that as a warning against more than just words. But over a simple dress? Why not keep it?<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cCome on,\u201d Melannipe urged her. \u201cMarcaeus is waiting.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cOh, my clothes,\u201d Fiona tried to remind her as the watery woman splashed her with concern toward the courtyard.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cThey were destroyed,\u201d Melannipe bubbled. Her rapid shooing motion splattered water everywhere, giving Fiona no choice but to hurry away lest she wind up in a wet chiton contest on her wedding day.<\/span><\/p>\n At least, Fiona assumed it was a wedding day. It was hard to tell when she was not only seeing the groom before the ceremony, but she was doing so barefoot in what was basically lingerie.<\/span><\/p>\n Not that the intended groom would notice, since they were both on the same page about their fake marriage. That did peel a layer of awkwardness off the situation.<\/span><\/p>\n Marcaeus stood in the courtyard, still alarmingly shirtless, with a leather satchel slung over his shoulder. He didn\u2019t bother to glance Fiona\u2019s way as she approached, keeping his eyes on Chiron as they engaged in an intense conversation.<\/span><\/p>\n A few droplets of seawater dribbled down her bare arm, and she turned to Melanippe.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cDon\u2019t be afraid,\u201d the water-woman said in the low voice of a calm sea nudging the bow of a docked ship. \u201cNot of Hera, or him.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m not afraid of him. He\u2019s my boss,\u201d Fiona whispered.<\/span><\/p>\n Melanippe\u2019s head tilted. \u201cIsn\u2019t that who mortals fear most?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cI\u2026\u201d Fiona couldn\u2019t argue against that.<\/span><\/p>\n She also couldn\u2019t truthfully argue that here, in this strange place, in his true form, Marcaeus wasn\u2019t exponentially more intimidating than the kilted businessman who ran Chiron Corp. The fact that she was his enemy now didn\u2019t help.<\/span><\/p>\n Fiona\u2019s night had been long and sleepless as she\u2019d vacillated between self-pity and self-hatred. How had her brother gotten her involved in this? How had she made such a mess of it that now Greek gods and an arranged marriage had become involved? But the answer to those questions was always another question: why had she agreed to do it? Yes, she\u2019d wanted to help Wren, but couldn’t there have been another way? If she’d just taken her time and thought things through…<\/span><\/p>\n She\u2019d just gone along with whatever her brother asked because that\u2019s what she\u2019d always been expected to do.\u00a0<\/span>She wasn\u2019t the hero of her own story. She was the evil henchman in Marcaeus\u2019s. And he was treating her far better than she deserved.<\/span><\/p>\n Chiron glanced in her direction and she realized too late that she\u2019d been staring. He gave a nod toward her and Marcaeus turned. His face entirely unreadable, he stated flatly, \u201cYou\u2019re barefoot.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n Fiona looked down and wriggled her toes against the grass. \u201cI guess I am.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n He walked over and extended his hand. \u201cGet on.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n It wasn\u2019t a friendly invitation, but she accepted it, anyway, and let him pull her up to sit on his back.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cChariclo doesn\u2019t intend to see us off?\u201d Marcaeus asked, in a tone that suggested he\u2019d already encountered her mood that morning.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cShe\u2019ll see reason. Eventually.\u201d Chiron chuckled fondly. \u201cMy tempest.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n With a wave of his hand, Chiron opened one of those incredible portals. Of what Fiona could glimpse through it, Hera\u2019s temple stood on a rocky outcropping over a lush mountain valley.<\/span><\/p>\n Mountain.<\/span><\/p>\n Olympus?<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n Fiona had somehow failed so badly at corporate espionage, she was going to end up on Mount Olympus. It could go down in history as the worst fuck-up of all time. She\u2019d probably hold that record in more than one dimension, now.<\/span><\/p>\n Marcaeus moved toward the portal and Fiona scrabbled to grab his shoulders; riding sidesaddle, sans saddle, didn’t feel secure at all. On the other hand, it was unsettling to have her hands on her shirtless boss\u2019s very broad shoulders. She turned her head to thank Melannipe again, but the moment Fiona said the woman\u2019s name, Marcaeus stepped through the shimmering gateway, closing it behind them.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cExcuse me!\u201d Fiona knew she was in no position to argue about anything, considering all she\u2019d done to get both of them into this situation, but his rudeness had made <\/span>her<\/span><\/i> appear rude. \u201cYour friends were not happy that I was there. The least you could have done was let me thank them again for their\u2026patience.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cNot kindness?\u201d Marcaeus asked as he plodded their way through the lush, bluish-green grass of the mountain path.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cMelannipe was kind.\u201d It was the only way to dodge the question. Fiona wouldn\u2019t speak ill of any of the astrals who\u2019d helped her. \u201cThey were all kind. In their way. You, included.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m protecting my company,\u201d he reminded her.<\/span><\/p>\n As if she needed reminding. \u201cI know. But you could have called the cops on me. Fraudulent glamour is a felony.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m aware.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m trying to make things right! Why are you being such a dick?\u201d The word was out of her mouth before she thought twice, which she should have. What was keeping him from bucking her off? \u201cI just wanted to say goodbye to your friend.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cMy friend.\u201d The word came out practically screaming it was a lie. \u201cI suppose that\u2019s what she is, now.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n Fiona\u2019s heart plummeted. \u201cWait, were you\u2014\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cYes.\u201d He said nothing further.<\/span><\/p>\n Chariclo\u2019s comments made sense now; she thought Fiona was the cause of Melannipe\u2019s broken heart. And Chariclo was correct, which made the whole thing worse, as did Melannipe\u2019s kindness. Fiona couldn\u2019t imagine being so gracious to someone who was stealing her fiance.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cI don\u2019t understand,\u201d Fiona began again. \u201cShe didn\u2019t say anything. She helped me get dressed and gave me advice and\u2014\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cWhat kind of advice?\u201d Marcaeus snapped, stopping so suddenly that Fiona nearly toppled off his back.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cShe told me not to be afraid of you, for one,\u201d Fiona grumbled, doubting that pearl of wisdom. \u201cAnd she defended me from her mother. It just didn\u2019t seem like she was that sad\u2013\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n She stopped herself at the unintended implication that Melannipe didn\u2019t care about him.<\/p>\n \u00a0<\/span>His sudden inhale betrayed the depth of the accidental wound.\u00a0<\/span>\u201cMaybe she isn\u2019t.”<\/span><\/p>\n Again with the talking before thinking<\/em>.<\/span><\/p>\n They didn\u2019t speak further until they reached the milky blue steps to the temple. From afar, it had looked like marble. Now that they were close, Fiona noticed the subtle variants of translucency and hue in the stone.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cAquamarine,\u201d he said, startling her.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cWhat?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n He held out his hand and she took it, but it still startled her when he swung her from his back to set her on her feet. \u201cThe stone. It\u2019s Aquamarine.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cHow did you know I was wondering about that?\u201d It was almost as unsettling as being treated like a backpack.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cYou\u2019ve never seen anything like it before.\u201d He stated it as a painfully obvious fact, which it was, but the truth didn\u2019t make his tone any less exasperated. \u201cYou\u2019re not vapid enough to lack curiosity.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cWas that an attempt to compliment me?\u201d she asked.<\/span><\/p>\n He looked down, his expression shamingly humorless. \u201cIt was a statement of fact. I have no reason or desire to compliment you.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n He started up the steps, but Fiona couldn\u2019t let him walk away without clearing the air. \u201cWait.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n With an annoyed sigh, he turned.<\/span><\/p>\n He could be as mad at her as he wanted, but damn it, she would apologize.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cWhat I did to you was wrong. I should have never listened to my brother. Before they put that mark on me, I could have chosen not to be a part of any of this. I couldn\u2019t make a wrong situation right by lying. I knew that, and I did it anyway. And now I\u2019ve hurt you and I\u2019ve hurt a very kind, very thoughtful stranger.\u201d A hiccuping sob caught her by surprise, and she swiped angrily at her tears. \u201cYou could have left me unprotected against the demon\u2019s mark. You could have just sent me back to my brother and let him force me to do…god knows what.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n The thought chilled her.<\/span><\/p>\n Marcaeus\u2019s stone features softened. \u201cI knew my options. I couldn\u2019t leave you in the demon\u2019s\u2013or your brother\u2019s\u2013control.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n Stunned speechless, Fiona could only stare.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cDoing the right thing sometimes means that innocent people are hurt.\u201d He nodded tersely, his gaze moving to the top of her head. \u201cPut your veil down. You\u2019ll wear it until the anakalypteria.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n When she opened her mouth to ask, he answered before she could utter the question. \u201cThe unveiling,\u201d he explained, coming close and reaching for the long veil pinned into the ornate braids Melannipe had worked for her. The veil covered her almost to the floor; no wonder it had felt so heavy.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cThanks. I don\u2019t know what I\u2019m doing. I\u2019ve never been to Mount Olympus before,\u201d she said, silently tacking on how grateful she was for the extra coverage; though it had begun to dry, her chiton hadn\u2019t started out opaque in the first place.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cYou\u2019re not on Olympus,\u201d Marcaeus corrected her, giving the veil one last, gentle tug into place. \u201cThis is Mount Pelion. My ancestral home.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cOh.\u201d The knowledge she lacked shamed her. \u201cI didn\u2019t realize there were gods and goddesses on more than one…mount.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n He didn\u2019t respond, but he took her hand again and resumed the walk up to the temple. Somewhere, a peacock let out its screaming call, and as they climbed higher, white feathers went from \u201cscattered\u201d to \u201ccarpeted\u201d beneath her bare feet. Finally, they reached the top and he fell to his front knees, nudging her to kneel, as well.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cBow your head,\u201d he said in a low voice, before calling out, \u201cHera, exalted Queen of Olympus, wife of might Zeus, mother to\u2014\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cOh, shut up,\u201d a lilting voice answered, a voice much younger than Fiona would have imagined it would be, but still commanding. \u201cGet up. And take her stupid veil off. Do you think I don\u2019t know why you\u2019re here?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n Struggling to her feet, Fiona squeaked out, \u201cSorry.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cDon\u2019t apologize. I can\u2019t stand the weakness of an insincere apology. Do you know how many I\u2019ve heard since the day my father vomited me out?\u201d The goddess snapped.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cThank you for your cooperation. We know this is an inconvenience.\u201d Marcaeus began, and Fiona noted his directness. She would follow his lead and only say what was necessary and to the point.<\/span><\/p>\n Marcaeus moved in close and lifted the veil. The silk caught on one of the pins in her hair. As she reached up to prevent him from dislodging her braids, he uttered a soft, shockingly charming, \u201cOops,\u201d and reached to correct it himself. Their hands brushed and he jerked his back as if he\u2019d touched something disgusting.<\/span><\/p>\n Hera\u2019s laughter rang out like a crystal bell, and as the veil lifted from Fiona\u2019s eyes, she saw the goddess\u2014an actual <\/span>goddess!\u2014<\/span><\/i>standing with one brown hand over her mouth. Her pile of glossy black curls shook as she barely took pains to stifle her laughter. \u201cThis marriage is a bigger sham than mine. Never marry a sibling, mortal.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cI, um. Thank you.\u201d The thought had never crossed her mind, but Fiona wasn\u2019t about to correct a goddess.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cThere\u2019s no danger of that.\u201d Marcaeus\u2019s voice held no hint of humor at all. Astrals, she had quickly come to realize, didn\u2019t seem to do a lot of joking.<\/span><\/p>\n Maybe that was just in the presence of humans. And liars.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cBring your bride.\u201d Hera\u2019s derisive snort seemed to amuse the snow-white peacock at her side; it squalled and fanned its tail with a rattle. \u201cThis won\u2019t take long.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n The temple\u2019s columns were even more intimidating when viewed from close up; despite how slender and graceful they had looked from afar, Fiona imagined their circumference could rival the long-extinct redwood trees she\u2019d learned about in high school science class. The milky clouds in the stunning aquamarine glittered as they moved into the cool shadows beneath the pediment. They passed through the portico and into a sun-drenched courtyard lined with shimmering, gold-leafed trees bearing dazzling, gilded fruit. One stood in the middle, taller and more gnarled than the rest, its branches reaching out to nearly enclose a perfectly circular space.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cWhen human men cheat, they give their women diamonds.\u201d Hera\u2019s wry humor made Fiona realize she\u2019d been staring, open-mouthed, at the orchard-bordering-on-forest. The goddess nodded to the branches of a sapling supported by a golden staff. \u201cI presume those apologies are much easier to store. Or throw into a pit. But my husband chooses symbolism over ease of destruction. Drama queen that he is.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n Hera led them into the circle of branches and stood before them. The leaves rustled, and Fiona gasped in alarm as the tree seemed to enfold them, pulling a canopy of gold around them. Marcaeus took her hand, and Fiona thought he might have done so to calm her until he gave it a tug to indicate she should kneel again. He didn\u2019t release her but carefully arranged her palm to lie across the broad, veiny back of his own hand.<\/span><\/p>\n The goddess pulled a length of twisted golden vine from within the branches and wrapped it around Fiona\u2019s forearm, then Marcaeus\u2019s, looping and crisscrossing the cord deftly until the couple was bound elbow to fingertips.<\/span><\/p>\n As Hera finished the final knot, she asked, somewhat annoyed, if Fiona guessed her tone correctly, \u201cDid her father offer a sacrifice?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n Does an entire planet\u2019s climate count?<\/span><\/i> Probably not. She opened her mouth but couldn\u2019t quite find an appropriate answer before Marcaeus could do it for her.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cHer father is dead, and her brother estranged. Chiron has taken on the role of her kyrios. This morning, he made a sacrifice of twenty million human dollars to your Swiss account.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n Hera\u2019s brows rose and her mouth curved in a pleased smirk. \u201cSacrifice accepted.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cSacrifice is such an elegant word for \u2018bribe\u2019,\u201d Marcaeus quipped, and Hera\u2019s crystalline laughter filled the bower.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cIsn\u2019t it? Just as calling this a wedding is preferable to naming it for what it is: a perversion of our customs and rites.\u201d Hera sighed a deeply exhausted sigh. \u201cMarcaeus, Chiron gives this woman to you as a newly furrowed field in which to sow the seed of your future generations.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n Gross<\/span><\/i>.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cI take her,\u201d Marcaeus answered, flat as tap water.<\/span><\/p>\n Grosser.<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n