The Goddess Legacy
Page 5
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He would come next time, though. He wouldn’t break his promise. Not to me.
* * *
Hades didn’t come the next time, or the next, or the time after that. Finally, nearly a year after the war ended, his throne wasn’t there at all.
“Hades has decided to become an honorary member of the council,” said Zeus that day. “He will join us when it is important, but otherwise he will defer to our judgment when it comes to matters above his realm.”
In other words, he’d separated himself from us, breaking our unity. That pain sliced through me, hot and unyielding, and I had to blink rapidly to keep myself from letting it show. Fine. If he didn’t think we were worth it—if he didn’t think I was worth it, then so be it. We didn’t need him. I didn’t need him.
But I did, and that empty space inside my chest where hope for a happy life had once been ate away at me. He’d represented everything I’d wanted—respect, compassion, honesty and maturity that Zeus could never hope to obtain. The possibility of life as an equal to my partner. And with one single decision, he’d destroyed all of those dreams.
As soon as the meeting ended, I fled to the earth. It was summertime, and the forest was lush with colors. Green leaves, red and purple flowers, the blue sky and the brown soil—it should’ve been beautiful, but I was blind to all except Hades’s betrayal.
I sat on the shore of a lake and sobbed. My cries echoed amongst the trees, but I was alone. Always alone. My sisters were content with their lots. My brothers each had their own kingdoms to rule. When would it be my turn to have a happy ending? When would I have a chance to live the life I wanted?
The Titan War hadn’t been waged just to save humanity. We’d fought to save ourselves, too. I’d fought for my freedom, but what good was freedom when I found no joy in life alone? I wanted to share it with someone, to share the bonds of respect and fidelity, to know that to someone in the world, I was their life. But I would never have that now. Not with someone who could ever hope to be my equal, and I could never be with someone who looked down on me as something less. Hades had been my only hope.
A pitiful cry caught my attention, and I stopped weeping. Only a few feet away, crumpled on the ground, lay a tiny bird no bigger than an acorn. His wing was crooked, and as I peered down at him, he cheeped helplessly.
“You poor thing.” Gently lifting the bird into my hand, I stroked his back. Next to the peacock that had become my constant companion in Olympus, this was the tamest creature I’d ever seen.
I touched the broken wing, willing it to heal. The bones eased back into place, and at last the bird righted himself. He seemed to doubt that his wing was fixed; he kept it close as he expanded the other, as if readying himself for takeoff. But instead he remained in my palm, and he cocked his head as he chirped up at me once more.
Despite the heartbreak of the morning, I smiled. “You can fly now, you know. You don’t have to stay with me.”
He hopped from my palm to the tips of my fingers, and at last he spread both of his wings. As he took off, I felt that same keen wrench in my chest, and it only brought on another fresh wave of tears. Everyone would leave me eventually, given enough time.
But even as I thought it, I felt a featherlight touch on my shoulder, and the bird chirped beside my ear. I wiped my cheeks. “You’re back,” I said thickly.
Another chirp, and he took a few strands of my hair in his beak. I managed a small smile.
“I wouldn’t eat that if I were you. Let’s find you some seeds.”
The bird and I spent the rest of the day together, exploring the woods around the lake as I tried to find his home. But no matter how hard I searched the trees, I saw no evidence of a nest. He couldn’t have been very old, certainly not on his own yet, but I heard no cries of his mother or siblings. So he’d been abandoned, after all.
“We aren’t so different, you and I,” I said as he perched on my finger. We sat on a rock, sunbathing in the warm afternoon glow. “I’m on my own, as well.”
He gave a questioning chirp, as if he understood me. Maybe he did.
“My brother—my friend, he abandoned me, as well.” It was silly, talking to a bird, spilling my secrets, but I had no one else. Not even my sisters were trustworthy anymore. “He promised to come see me, but it’s been a year. Not very long in the scheme of things, despite what you may think, but it still hurts.”
Nearby, a tree rustled in the breeze, and the bird danced from one end of my finger to the other. He knew he could fly, and that he remained here healed something inside me. At last, someone was choosing to be with me.
“My brother—my other brother, he wants to marry me,” I said. The bird tilted his head again, and I smiled. “He’s King of the Skies—your king, even if you don’t know it. I doubted he could do it at first, you know. We all did, and he proved us wrong, which only makes it hurt even more. Have you ever wanted to be needed so badly that you felt as if your heart would burst?”
He hopped up my arm, climbing until he sat on my shoulder again. I offered him my finger, but he remained.
“Of course you haven’t. But my brother Zeus, he only wants me as an ornament. Something to make him look stronger. He doesn’t see me—he doesn’t love me. He loves my power. And even if I did agree to marry him, he would never be faithful to me. I would never be his equal, and he would insist I bow down to him. That isn’t the life I want.”
* * *
Hades didn’t come the next time, or the next, or the time after that. Finally, nearly a year after the war ended, his throne wasn’t there at all.
“Hades has decided to become an honorary member of the council,” said Zeus that day. “He will join us when it is important, but otherwise he will defer to our judgment when it comes to matters above his realm.”
In other words, he’d separated himself from us, breaking our unity. That pain sliced through me, hot and unyielding, and I had to blink rapidly to keep myself from letting it show. Fine. If he didn’t think we were worth it—if he didn’t think I was worth it, then so be it. We didn’t need him. I didn’t need him.
But I did, and that empty space inside my chest where hope for a happy life had once been ate away at me. He’d represented everything I’d wanted—respect, compassion, honesty and maturity that Zeus could never hope to obtain. The possibility of life as an equal to my partner. And with one single decision, he’d destroyed all of those dreams.
As soon as the meeting ended, I fled to the earth. It was summertime, and the forest was lush with colors. Green leaves, red and purple flowers, the blue sky and the brown soil—it should’ve been beautiful, but I was blind to all except Hades’s betrayal.
I sat on the shore of a lake and sobbed. My cries echoed amongst the trees, but I was alone. Always alone. My sisters were content with their lots. My brothers each had their own kingdoms to rule. When would it be my turn to have a happy ending? When would I have a chance to live the life I wanted?
The Titan War hadn’t been waged just to save humanity. We’d fought to save ourselves, too. I’d fought for my freedom, but what good was freedom when I found no joy in life alone? I wanted to share it with someone, to share the bonds of respect and fidelity, to know that to someone in the world, I was their life. But I would never have that now. Not with someone who could ever hope to be my equal, and I could never be with someone who looked down on me as something less. Hades had been my only hope.
A pitiful cry caught my attention, and I stopped weeping. Only a few feet away, crumpled on the ground, lay a tiny bird no bigger than an acorn. His wing was crooked, and as I peered down at him, he cheeped helplessly.
“You poor thing.” Gently lifting the bird into my hand, I stroked his back. Next to the peacock that had become my constant companion in Olympus, this was the tamest creature I’d ever seen.
I touched the broken wing, willing it to heal. The bones eased back into place, and at last the bird righted himself. He seemed to doubt that his wing was fixed; he kept it close as he expanded the other, as if readying himself for takeoff. But instead he remained in my palm, and he cocked his head as he chirped up at me once more.
Despite the heartbreak of the morning, I smiled. “You can fly now, you know. You don’t have to stay with me.”
He hopped from my palm to the tips of my fingers, and at last he spread both of his wings. As he took off, I felt that same keen wrench in my chest, and it only brought on another fresh wave of tears. Everyone would leave me eventually, given enough time.
But even as I thought it, I felt a featherlight touch on my shoulder, and the bird chirped beside my ear. I wiped my cheeks. “You’re back,” I said thickly.
Another chirp, and he took a few strands of my hair in his beak. I managed a small smile.
“I wouldn’t eat that if I were you. Let’s find you some seeds.”
The bird and I spent the rest of the day together, exploring the woods around the lake as I tried to find his home. But no matter how hard I searched the trees, I saw no evidence of a nest. He couldn’t have been very old, certainly not on his own yet, but I heard no cries of his mother or siblings. So he’d been abandoned, after all.
“We aren’t so different, you and I,” I said as he perched on my finger. We sat on a rock, sunbathing in the warm afternoon glow. “I’m on my own, as well.”
He gave a questioning chirp, as if he understood me. Maybe he did.
“My brother—my friend, he abandoned me, as well.” It was silly, talking to a bird, spilling my secrets, but I had no one else. Not even my sisters were trustworthy anymore. “He promised to come see me, but it’s been a year. Not very long in the scheme of things, despite what you may think, but it still hurts.”
Nearby, a tree rustled in the breeze, and the bird danced from one end of my finger to the other. He knew he could fly, and that he remained here healed something inside me. At last, someone was choosing to be with me.
“My brother—my other brother, he wants to marry me,” I said. The bird tilted his head again, and I smiled. “He’s King of the Skies—your king, even if you don’t know it. I doubted he could do it at first, you know. We all did, and he proved us wrong, which only makes it hurt even more. Have you ever wanted to be needed so badly that you felt as if your heart would burst?”
He hopped up my arm, climbing until he sat on my shoulder again. I offered him my finger, but he remained.
“Of course you haven’t. But my brother Zeus, he only wants me as an ornament. Something to make him look stronger. He doesn’t see me—he doesn’t love me. He loves my power. And even if I did agree to marry him, he would never be faithful to me. I would never be his equal, and he would insist I bow down to him. That isn’t the life I want.”
