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Dominic slid a look so murderous toward Lukas, I felt the urge to run through ways I could protect him from any harm.
“You know what I think?” Sabina cut in, her power flaring with warning the same way mine had. “I think we should pass the time with something productive. Like a story. Or a game.”
By the time she’d finished, Dominic had wisely returned to his half-prayer position, his arms resting on his knees, hands clasped together, head down. At least he wasn’t lunging toward Lukas anymore.
“That sounds like a capital idea,” I said, almost begging for someone to disagree with me.
“Sebastian,” Sabina said, taking a seat at the table to bring the huddle of gods closer. Sensing her direction, the Hestia twins—Genevieve and Vivian—with their soft hands and glowing gold eyes, took two seats next to each other.
With Sebastian on the floor, leaning against the wall in a stance that looked like he was posing for a painting, and Julian sprawled on a cot with Corrina, we were practically sitting around a fireplace.
Again, like children at summer camp. But no matter your age, no matter your power, you could appreciate the value of a good story.
“How about you tell one?” Sabina asked Sebastian. “Something by one of your many kin. Odysseus maybe?”
Odysseus was a famed writer, deserving of every ounce of honor he got. His cousin also happened to be the Apollo heir at the time. His stories were a welcome distraction from the Roman line popping up after the War.
Sebastian’s head was tilted back, his arm extended and resting on his bent knee. He moved his chin down and a little snap of power flickered in the air. Good, old fashioned Apollo poetry building on his tongue.
“Whatever you wish, Sabina.” Sebastian gave her a crafted smile. “The Legend of Circe it is.”
I felt myself grin. I loved her story, found some twisted comfort in her isolation and pain.
Lukas relaxed into the couch, lifting both arms to settle on the back. Also conveniently around me. I timed it well, making it look like a byproduct of his arm going around my shoulders, but I leaned into his embrace.
Sebastian’s voice rumbled in his throat, commanding the attention of the room. “We sailed on,” he began, shifting into a modern retelling of Odysseus’s original prose. “With hearts heavy with grief, but beating with relief of life in the face of such loss, we found the island of Aeaea. Circe, with her long hair and torrid reputation, was the daughter of Helius, the original lightbringer, and Perse. We settled our ship on the shore, approaching the rocky beach in silence. For two days, we lived among the remains of past ships and soldiers, with nothing but our own sorrow to eat. When Dawn blessed us with a third day, I went in search of Circe.”
The melodic tone and steady rhythm of Sebastian’s voice calmed the room. That, combined with the familiar comfort of Lukas’s touch, settled me enough to finally think. I felt like I hadn’t been able to form a coherent thought since I’d been back.
With each piece of Circe’s story Sebastian told, I was reminded of how much perception could change things. How important opinion was.
We needed the humans to believe in us, to trust that we lived to create a world that they could enjoy. And that started with the individual courts.
Rose and Dominic had a small court, built on personalities that aligned with their own. The responsibility of their power required it. They held the afterlife in their hands, they couldn’t risk disruption.
Lukas and I had people we couldn’t control. Adrian had it even worse.
Sebastian turned the story toward Odysseus and his men’s first trek into Circe’s island, churning vivid descriptions of the plants and flowers and animals that had Circe’s magic in their veins.
Circe’s island was so much of her power, where she found peace and strength. It made me think of my own relationship with my power, how settled I felt in libraries and at sea.
Maybe that was it, the thing I needed to get the catches back up to par. To really dive into my power, to reconnect with the ocean after so long away.
My mind took off with ideas, crafting a to-do list that would build that connection back up. A little voice told me to addfix relationship with Lukasto the list. The tension between us surely put a strain on the parts of my power tied to his. I listened, but put it toward the bottom, after tasks that didn’t scare the shit out of me.
There were plenty I could get through before having to confront that.
Sebastian’s voice was the perfect mix of confident and melodic. If he was human, he’d have a hell of a career in politics.
Even Lukas was starting to settle, scooting down on the couch so that he could rest his head on the back of it. The only problem was that he had to place his arms in front of him, taking me out of the cocoon of his side.
At least he was still touching me.
The only disruption in an otherwise perfect moment, crafted by this odd situation, was the stress rolling off Dominic in waves.
My instincts were telling me to say something to comfort him, to remind him that Rose was okay. But my brain, still tied up with doubt, was worried that he had just grown fond of Rose. Fond, but not in love. Not like she was.
Sebastian wrapped up the story, pausing right before Circe turned Odysseus’s men into pigs. The good part. “I would continue, but I only share my skills with audiences who enjoy them. And enjoying, you are not, Dominic.”
