Page 2 of Prometheus' Priestess

“Then it’s settled. The threat of war is greater anyway. Let’s call in Athena.” Atroposdecided.

Clotho nodded and picked up an olive-greenthread.

CHAPTER I

Athena stared at the table in front of her, the words of the Moirai fresh in her mind. Before her was a browned-with-age spread, a map of the world ingrained into the fabric of the table. It was a large, ugly thing, taking up the majority of the room. The wooden top was scored with marks from the years Athena had planned, acted, and executed battle plans, while its dark wooden legs curled and gnarled their way to a sandy stone floor. The rest of the room was carved from stone too. Opposite the great doors, made of the same dark wood as the table, were huge archways that showed spectacular views of Athens from high in the mountains. There were no shutters, nothing to stop the elements from breaking in, but then Athena always said working with the elements was an essential part of strategy. Despite the exposure, the room was pristine. There were a few potted plants dotted around the room, and opposite the large war table on the east-facing wall, there, instead of a fireplace, stood a small freshwater fountain by the chaises where she would retire for the day, for she had always thought of water as far more intelligent an element than the bruteness offire.

One of her tawny owls watched her with a cocked head, quizzically, for there were currently no war pieces, which were usually placed in a chess-like pattern, across the table that Athena was staring hardat.

“This is no ordinary battle,” she told her companion. “The humans aren’t fighting some known enemy. They’re actually fighting themselves, theirinstincts.”

The owl hooted.

“I have absolutely no idea how to win this battle,” she muttered to the only confidant she would ever say such a thing out loud to, for to admit weakness was to invite the vultures of her family to vie for her place.

“There is one who might be able to shed some light on the matter. Fetch Aphrodite forme.”

The owl hooted again, spread its wings the width of the windowsill, and took off with a powerful beat of its wings. Athena watched it until it was a speck against a light grey sky that reflected the colour of her owneyes.

An hour passed before Aphrodite appeared before her in a light white sheath that matched her hair − so translucent and dewy, it appeared as if she had walked out of the ocean ... again. Athena rolled her eyes.

Aphrodite raised an eyebrow. “You called for me while I was bathing. What did you expect?” She draped herself over one of the chaises as she squeezed droplets of water onto thefloor.

“Do you mind?” Athena glanced at the water on thefloor.

“Not at all.” Aphrodite dismissed with a wave of her hand and a sharp smile. Anyone who believed the Goddess of Love was anything less than a savage was afool.

“Why have you called for me? The owl didn’tsay.”

“Tell me of your son, Phobos of Fear. Does he still follow his father, Ares, around like aschoolboy?”

A warmth invaded Aphrodite’s eyes. For all her petty, vengeful behaviour with lovers, there was one thing Athena could not deny her and that was that she loved her children.

“He and his twin brother are terrors − quite literally − but yes they still follow their father. Why do youask?”

Athena relayed the conversation she had had with the Fates, the tapestry they had shown her, and the creeping fear spreading through the humans. Aphrodite hissed out a breath between pursed, rosy-red lips that were often laughing. Right now they were not. “I am afraid, dear sister, Phobos is not capable of such afeat.”

“I thought as much.”

The sisters shared a grim look. For while it was common knowledge that Athena was a goddess of war, many did not know how well-versed in the art of war Aphrodite was.

“You know the human scope of emotion better than anyone. After all, it was you who gifted them with emotional intelligence. Tell me, Aphrodite, how would you stopit?”

The Goddess of Love continued biting her full lower lip. “Intruth, the only way I can see their own fear being eradicated is if they alchemiseit.”

“Intowhat?”

“All emotions transmute into their opposites. Sadness to joy, anger to acceptance, fear to love,” Aphrodite explainedimpatiently.

“This is your remitthen.”

“Yes,” Aphrodite said, rising to stand at the opposite end of the table to Athena. “But you know the ruling. Hera is still on a warpath and I, for one, would prefer to avoidher.”

Athena scowled. “Surely you can put aside petty title squabbles forthis?”

“It’s not petty,” Aphrodite countered petulantly. “Our stepmother might not like me being associated with the Queen of Heaven when she wants the title for herself, but that gave her no right to demand Zeus have me married off to that … ogre.”

Athena’s scowl turned into a savage smile and a bark of a laugh. “Oh yes, how is that wretch of a husband ofyours?”

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