Everyone on Olympus saw her as a snake, a terribly wicked woman. But I knew that inside of her, somewhere (maybe so far hidden within her that even she didn’t recognize it) was a woman who only wanted to be loved and to love in return. For whatever reason those feelings made her feel ashamed, weak. I wished she wouldn’t feel that way though, because it was those feelings that proved to me there was still something inside worth fighting for, protecting. Yes, she was terrible sometimes. But I held out hope that she wouldn’t always be.
“Don’t play the fool, it doesn’t become you, dear,” my mother said as sweetly as a venomous snake.
A hush settled over the crowd of twenty gods and goddesses, all eyes were trained on my mother and Persephone. The mood was taut, like a bow string right before it snapped.
“Tell me what you were telling Dionysus, or—” she held up her hand and a ball of glowing red power floated above it. Heat wafted off of it, reaching out to even me. Those around my mother grimaced and leaned back.
As Love she shouldn’t have the power to harm, and yet, sometimes love could be the deadliest of emotions.
“My dear,” Ares said, planting a hand on her forearm as he stood beside her, “be well. Persephone is but a child. Do not allow her silly games to get in your hand.”
“Sit. Down,” she told him, never taking her eyes off of a now no longer smiling Persephone.
I was always shocked when War did as Love bade. Not the fact that he respected her power, I at least appreciated that fact, but that of all the gods the one I’d thought most capable of checking mother’s madness might have been War. But even he was prey to her deadly charms.
A sweet smile curved my mother’s lips. To see her one could not help but recognize how beautiful she was, but to know her meant that beauty was often overshadowed by her actions.
I thought of that poor woman Persephone had outed. True, she was a mortal, and of little consequence to the gods, but the human had literally done nothing wrong. Her name had had the misfortune of spilling off the tongue of a reckless goddess this night. And for that offense her life was about to be completely upended. When one got in my mother’s sights, the end result was rarely positive.
“Tell. Me. Now,” my mother said through clenched teeth.
Persephone, clearly aware that she’d pushed things too far, shook her head. “T’was but a joke, aunty. I heard some humans speaking earlier today while I was at a beach. Of three beautiful sisters. But that the youngest had enviable red hair and porcelain pale skin and that she was the most beautiful of all. They called her Psyche. And said she was more beautiful than any goddess. That was all I heard.”
Mother flicked her fingers, and suddenly Persephone was slammed back into her seat. As though she’d been pushed by an invisible giant’s hand. Persephone gasped, and trembled on the seat, but she did not move again. It seemed the immature girl had finally learned why Dionysus had tried so hard to shush her.
“Leave the girl, be,” Ares said, voice deep and soothing beside her. “What mortal could ever be more beautiful than you, Aphrodite? Come, let us go home and wash the stink of this conversation off us.” He tried again to soothe her, but when her lips pinched tight, I knew he’d failed.
“The humans claimed Helen was more beautiful than me. They roused my fury with their vile words. I cannot sit idly by—”
Ares stood, holding out one hand in a placating manner. “That war nearly decimated them all. The loss of life was terrible. The mortal realm cannot afford another deadly skirmish, Aphrodite. We need their worship. They are like rats on a sinking ship, they do not think wisely when their backs are pressed against a wall. I beg of you, my queen, do not provoke them to act so foolhardily again.”
Mother’s face did not betray her emotions, but I knew her well enough to see that Ares’ words, though wise, sat like rot in her gut.
“Then what would you suggest I do?” She banged her fist on the table, a clear sign that she was beginning to lose her composure. “This insult to my godhood cannot be—”
Dionysus, known more for drinking and partying, stood. Looking more serious than I’d ever seen him look before. He held up one hand. “My dear, sweet sister,” he said, voice placating and smooth.
That was the thing about the god of drunkards, very few of the pantheon understood just how wily and crafty he truly was. Apart from being perpetually drunk, Dionysus had managed to mostly keep his nose clean. He had no scandal in his background. An almost impossible achievement on Olympus.
“I think what my brother Ares is saying is that perhaps there is another way to teach those miscreants a lesson.”
His smile was slick and smooth as a snake oil salesman. I knew Dionysus about as well as anyone else on Olympus did. But because I was mother’s courier, I often saw hidden sides of the gods others did not have the privilege of witnessing. Like, the fact that drunk or no, Dionysus was a chess master. He played those around him like a maestro. Always three steps ahead of all the rest. He was actually quite brilliant. It was no accident that he had the reputation around town that he did, I’d come to the conclusion long ago that it was just another facet of his keen intelligence. Always pretend to be insignificant and others would eventually treat you as though you were. But in the meantime, always keep one’s ears open. Nothing happened on Olympus or the realm of men that Dionysus didn’t already seem to know about.
“I’m listening,” mother said.
My brows twitched. I was impressed. What Ares had not managed the god of drink had.
Dionysus’ smile grew wider. “Well, it’s quite simple really. We do not destroy the land of men. No need. A woman’s true weakness is her own vanity.”
Not necessarily true. I knew plenty of women, like my Aunt Athena, who did not seem to care one whit about her looks. But I suspected that Dionysus already knew that, and that the only reason he’d said it was because it was mother’s true weakness. Ergo if it was hers, it stood to reason that others must feel as she did. Or at least, that was the expectation he knew she’d draw from his statement. It was really quite brilliant on his part to play up her own flaws and use them against her.
“True,” she said, falling right into his trap.
His lips twitched and I knew my hunch had been correct. My gods, Dionysus was one to fear. I wondered if anyone else realized it too?
“What do you suggest, brother?” she asked. That she called him brother made me realize just how well he’d manipulated her.
In truth, as mother’s protector, I should be denouncing Dionysus as a traitor. I should be defending my mother’s honor. I saw what he was doing. I understood his influence on her. But I was too impressed. I’d never seen anyone so easily quell my mother’s madness in such a manner. It was really quite breathtaking.
“We turn her beauty against her.” He shrugged as if it were the most obvious idea. “You are the great and glorious goddess of love. Send a peddler her way, with a potion that will make her desirable to all men.”
She gasped and a glittering sheen of avarice filled her blue eyes. “A potion that makes her so desired that it quickly turns to hate and they rape and murder her. I love it.”
I couldn’t help myself. I cringed. I quickly schooled my face back into a mask of indifference, glancing around to make sure none had caught that momentary weakness. I was cloaked in shadow, but only so long as my concentration held. I had to keep my emotions in check. But all eyes were trained on mother and Dionysus.