Goddess Interrupted
Page 16
“Mom?” I said, rubbing my knee now that I knew it wouldn’t make it hurt any worse. “What’s everyone talking about?”
She offered me her hand. I took it, amazed by how strong she felt compared to the years of frailty, and with effort I stood. Ava stayed glued to my side as my mother led me to a bench in the antechamber, and I eased myself down. It wasn’t possible that Henry had been in this much pain and I hadn’t known it. It must’ve had something to do with the council granting me immortality only six months before.
Or maybe Henry was immune.
Ava sat beside me and took my hand. James lingered in the doorway, leaning against it casually, but one look at him and I could see the fear beneath his mask of neutrality. First Ella, now him—whatever this was, it wasn’t good.
“Do you remember the Titans from your lessons with Irene?” said my mother in such a soft voice that I was jolted back to the days spent in a hospital, leaning over her so I could understand her dry and broken whispers.
I shook my head. Irene had seemed to hit only the most salient points in those myths, and I didn’t bother retaining much of that information past the f irst exam anyway. At the time, it hadn’t seemed important.
“They were your parents?” I said. My mother was Walter’s sister, but not by blood, as they had insisted time and time again. As Henry had told me nearly a year ago, family was the only word mortals had to describe anything close to the bond they shared, but it went much deeper than that.
“In a way,” said my mother. Spotting a few drops of blood on her sleeve, she waved her hand and they vanished.
“The Titans were the original rulers of this world, and eventually they grew bored and created us. There were six of us in the beginning—myself, Walter, Henry, Phillip, Sof ia and Calliope.”
“They were slaves,” said James.
“Toys,” corrected my mother. With the straightforward way she spoke, it was clear she’d told this story before.
“That was our purpose. To be the playthings of the Titans.
They loved us, and we loved them in return. But then they decided that we weren’t enough, so they made a new race that, unlike us, could cease to exist if they fought one another.”
“They created war.”
Ava sounded so small and meek that I hardly believed it was her speaking. Her blue eyes were rimmed with red, her cheeks had lost their color, and the hurt on her face was so palpable that I could barely stand to look at her.
“The Titans made humans do terrible things to entertain them.” Ava wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and sniffed. “They were denied the most basic rights and freedoms.”
“Humans were soldiers who never saw the end of battle,” said James. “They were at the mercy of the Titans, but unlike the six siblings—”
“They were powerless to stop them.” My mother sat down beside me and set her hand over mine. “The things mortals do to one another is nothing compared to what the Titans did. Mental and physical torture. No sign of relief.
No voice that could possibly sway the most powerful beings in the universe.”
“So the six rebelled,” said Ava. She stared at the space between us, seemingly studying the velvet bench cushion, but a thread of strength ran through her voice now. “They banded together and used the powers the Titans had given them to f ight back.”
“And we won.” My mother smiled. She was the gentlest person I knew; she didn’t even kill the spiders and snakes that snuck into her garden. I couldn’t imagine her going to war untold eons ago with a force I didn’t begin to understand. “The Titans’ greatest weakness was their belief that there was no greater power in the world, and they couldn’t imagine us thinking for ourselves. Perhaps if they hadn’t created mortals or given us abilities for their own amusement, we would still be theirs after all this time. Their mistake was not in creating us, but in creating something for us to protect.”
She ran her f ingers through my hair, and it was such a familiar gesture that my anxieties began to disappear, replaced by warmth that ran through me and melted the icy fear that had formed.
“We nearly lost so many times, and there were moments when we wanted to give in, but all it took in each of us was the memory of what the Titans were doing to the defense-less, and we pressed on. As long as we existed, we would not stand for it.”
With startling clarity, I f inally saw the balance between gods and mortals: gods were, in a strange way, the ones who were chained because of a war the six siblings had won an incalculable amount of time ago. They— we depended on humanity for our survival as much as humanity had depended on Walter and the others all those eons ago. It was why James was so afraid of the day humanity would eventually die out and there was nothing left but the dead and those who ruled them. Once humans didn’t need him any longer, he would fade. They all would, except for me and Henry. But without humans, gods were nothing.
“Is that what that was?” I said. “A—Titan?”
“He’s called Cronus, and he was once the king of the Titans,” said my mother. “He has been asleep since the end of the war, trapped in Tartarus with Nyx watching over him and the other imprisoned Titans.”
Ava shuddered, but said nothing. I f idgeted. “Nyx?” I said, hating how little I knew about any of this. My lessons from the year before had focused on the Greek myths, not their true heritage, and no amount of studying would ever make up for the fact that I hadn’t lived through it like the rest of them. Or at least hadn’t heard the stories for millennia.
She offered me her hand. I took it, amazed by how strong she felt compared to the years of frailty, and with effort I stood. Ava stayed glued to my side as my mother led me to a bench in the antechamber, and I eased myself down. It wasn’t possible that Henry had been in this much pain and I hadn’t known it. It must’ve had something to do with the council granting me immortality only six months before.
Or maybe Henry was immune.
Ava sat beside me and took my hand. James lingered in the doorway, leaning against it casually, but one look at him and I could see the fear beneath his mask of neutrality. First Ella, now him—whatever this was, it wasn’t good.
“Do you remember the Titans from your lessons with Irene?” said my mother in such a soft voice that I was jolted back to the days spent in a hospital, leaning over her so I could understand her dry and broken whispers.
I shook my head. Irene had seemed to hit only the most salient points in those myths, and I didn’t bother retaining much of that information past the f irst exam anyway. At the time, it hadn’t seemed important.
“They were your parents?” I said. My mother was Walter’s sister, but not by blood, as they had insisted time and time again. As Henry had told me nearly a year ago, family was the only word mortals had to describe anything close to the bond they shared, but it went much deeper than that.
“In a way,” said my mother. Spotting a few drops of blood on her sleeve, she waved her hand and they vanished.
“The Titans were the original rulers of this world, and eventually they grew bored and created us. There were six of us in the beginning—myself, Walter, Henry, Phillip, Sof ia and Calliope.”
“They were slaves,” said James.
“Toys,” corrected my mother. With the straightforward way she spoke, it was clear she’d told this story before.
“That was our purpose. To be the playthings of the Titans.
They loved us, and we loved them in return. But then they decided that we weren’t enough, so they made a new race that, unlike us, could cease to exist if they fought one another.”
“They created war.”
Ava sounded so small and meek that I hardly believed it was her speaking. Her blue eyes were rimmed with red, her cheeks had lost their color, and the hurt on her face was so palpable that I could barely stand to look at her.
“The Titans made humans do terrible things to entertain them.” Ava wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and sniffed. “They were denied the most basic rights and freedoms.”
“Humans were soldiers who never saw the end of battle,” said James. “They were at the mercy of the Titans, but unlike the six siblings—”
“They were powerless to stop them.” My mother sat down beside me and set her hand over mine. “The things mortals do to one another is nothing compared to what the Titans did. Mental and physical torture. No sign of relief.
No voice that could possibly sway the most powerful beings in the universe.”
“So the six rebelled,” said Ava. She stared at the space between us, seemingly studying the velvet bench cushion, but a thread of strength ran through her voice now. “They banded together and used the powers the Titans had given them to f ight back.”
“And we won.” My mother smiled. She was the gentlest person I knew; she didn’t even kill the spiders and snakes that snuck into her garden. I couldn’t imagine her going to war untold eons ago with a force I didn’t begin to understand. “The Titans’ greatest weakness was their belief that there was no greater power in the world, and they couldn’t imagine us thinking for ourselves. Perhaps if they hadn’t created mortals or given us abilities for their own amusement, we would still be theirs after all this time. Their mistake was not in creating us, but in creating something for us to protect.”
She ran her f ingers through my hair, and it was such a familiar gesture that my anxieties began to disappear, replaced by warmth that ran through me and melted the icy fear that had formed.
“We nearly lost so many times, and there were moments when we wanted to give in, but all it took in each of us was the memory of what the Titans were doing to the defense-less, and we pressed on. As long as we existed, we would not stand for it.”
With startling clarity, I f inally saw the balance between gods and mortals: gods were, in a strange way, the ones who were chained because of a war the six siblings had won an incalculable amount of time ago. They— we depended on humanity for our survival as much as humanity had depended on Walter and the others all those eons ago. It was why James was so afraid of the day humanity would eventually die out and there was nothing left but the dead and those who ruled them. Once humans didn’t need him any longer, he would fade. They all would, except for me and Henry. But without humans, gods were nothing.
“Is that what that was?” I said. “A—Titan?”
“He’s called Cronus, and he was once the king of the Titans,” said my mother. “He has been asleep since the end of the war, trapped in Tartarus with Nyx watching over him and the other imprisoned Titans.”
Ava shuddered, but said nothing. I f idgeted. “Nyx?” I said, hating how little I knew about any of this. My lessons from the year before had focused on the Greek myths, not their true heritage, and no amount of studying would ever make up for the fact that I hadn’t lived through it like the rest of them. Or at least hadn’t heard the stories for millennia.
