“Best keep your eyes down, son.” The man’s voice sounded like the sea, his skin red with years in the sun. “The gods and their fathers are at each other’s throats.”
“What does that mean?” Erebus pressed again, his voice dropping to a whisper as he leaned closer. They were approaching the gates, and he picked up that the man didn’t want the sentries to overhear him. Or maybe he was worried the gods themselves were listening in.
That would be a valid fear.Erebus let out a shudder to think of what would happen if Zeus overheard a mortal disrespecting him when he was in a bad mood.God, it’s easier when everyone’s dead.Erebus felt another homesick pang for the Underworld go through his heart. The fisherman’s eyes got wider, and he shook his head.
“You’re not from around here, are you?”
“No…” Erebus wondered if he had been caught until he recollected that there was no reason for the man to think that he wasn’t from simply… far away.
A lot farther than you’d think, fisherman.
“I’m from Delphi,” Erebus lied smoothly, letting some immortal charm flicker over his face to smooth over his deception. “I’m here to see my mother’s family, and I’ve heard nothing of what you speak of.”
The fisherman immediately nodded and some of the worry lines disappeared from his face.
“Zeus has declared war on his father. Kronos destroyed some villages a few miles over. You know when the deities start throwing stones, their priests are even more willing toincreasetheir sacrifices to appease them, to get the wars to end.” Erebus couldn’t keep the shock off his face as he sputtered, struggling to keep his voice down as they were only a stone’s throw from the entrance to the city.
“You don’t mean the priests are sacrificing mortals, do you?” It was the fisherman’s turn to be surprised, an awkward laugh taking him over.
“Mortals? You might not feel it now, young as you are, but we’re all mortals here. And no, of course not, but if you attract any attention, you’re more likely to have your lands or crops taken in tribute.” He rolled his shoulders back and cast a look at his handcart as if he was making sure that a priest hadn’t commandeered his haul while they were talking.
“Does anyone stand up to them? Who do you pray to?” Erebus felt his temper rising. Everything that he had believed, that joining this war would be good for Nyx and good for the mortals, was starting to feel like more of a lie.
“You best drop that line of questioning. Zeus, Kronos—this is a tale as old as time. Then again, I didn’t go chasing after my father with a fishhook as soon as I could walk. I don’t know how they do things in Delphi, but welcome to Litochoro. There’s one rule: avoid the attention of the gods and those who act as an extension of their will.”
The fisherman scoffed and picked up his pace, not looking at Erebus and walking double-time to get away from him. A sick feeling washed over Erebus and stayed there, settling into his bones; this wasn’t how it should work. The gods were becoming increasingly vindictive, and their priests were, too. How were the people praying? Was there anything left that wasn’t uncorrupted? Erebus walked under the archway and through the gates of the city, a cacophony of noise rising around him as he did so. The guards barely gave him a second glance as if they could sense that Erebus was more powerful than they were. He studied the main square, taking note of the stone and mud brick buildings, thatched roofs, and where smoke was rising to the heavens. He was now consumed with an idea, with one destination in mind. All he needed to do was follow the smoke.
The first few turns that he took only brought him to butcheries, other markets, or homes where people had their fires going in the middle of day. He politely declined stopping or eating at each one as he noticed mortals tripping over themselves to offer him hospitality.
This might not be as good of a disguise as I thought. I wonder if the devout have a sixth sense for when they’re in the presence of the ones they pray to, but who prays to Darkness anymore?
Erebus’s own conscience was silent for a moment until his heart answered.
Nyx did.
He promptly ignored the swift hit of heartbreak that threatened to pull him under or cause his shadows to unravel. Erebus ducked into an alleyway, watching a cat scurry away from him and a scrupulous-looking man flee. Under the cover of the building’s shade, Erebus let his shadows unfurl.Go. Find me the solace we seek.He encouraged them all, his shadows whispering in response as they flooded out from him. Erebus leaned back against the stone wall and felt sweat beading at his brow, the release of letting his shadows go after keeping them hidden—for no matter how short a time—feeling like dipping in cool water on a hot day.
It didn’t take long for his shadows to report back to him, and he was off, weaving through the streets and behind houses. The further that he went into the city, following his shadows as they flecked over doors and entryways, the less populated it became. The walls of the city began to press into him until Erebus was on a side street, barely wide enough to accommodate him, covered in shadow from the two-story buildings on either side of him. Wherever his shadows had found their target, it was hidden. Erebus turned a sharp corner and nearly ran into the door, shorter than he was and painted black. Two sticks of incense were sticking out of the dirt in front, their sweet, cloying smell drafting up to the heavens.
This can’t be it?His confusion was palpable but was met with an outcry from his shadows, which insisted that this was the place. Erebus didn’t think about it again as he knocked once. He was met with silence, only a sudden breeze drifting down the hidden street. As he raised his hand to knock again, the door swung open in front of him.
Erebus was face-to-face with a middle-aged woman, with graying hair curled into a knot at the base of her neck. She wore a simple black shift, a metal belt going around her waist. Her sandals were plain, but well made, and she carried herself with a maternal energy that had even Erebus straightening up a little taller.
“Can I help you?” Her voice wasn’t unkind, but she eyed him with a sense of scrutiny.
“I’ve come to pay respects, priestess.” Erebus bowed his head. There was a beat of silence. When she spoke again, the woman sounded both shocked and angry as if he had brought up something painful from long ago.
“No son of Zeus has paid tribute to the Goddess in a century.”
Erebus bristled at the accolade that she used for mortal men and at the neglect the temple had suffered.
“Then, by your honor, I shall break the drought and water the altars of your temple,” Erebus spoke formally, only then daring to pick his eyes up as he looked at the priestess. Her eyes narrowed as she leaned forward over the threshold as though she was studying him for the first time. There was a spark of recognition in her eyes, and she stepped back with a gasp.
“Only one… man… has ever beheld the goddess with the reverence that we have.”
Erebus couldn’t help but let a soft smile fall over his face. Some of his power flickered in his eyes, and his shadows curled around his bicep like arm cuffs. The priestess’s face paled, and she gasped, her hand flying up to her face as if she could throttle the disrespectful sound.
“Oh—” She knelt as if to bow, and Erebus leaned forward, gently catching her elbow and shaking his head.
