Page 49 of Prometheus' Priestess

The nightmare that night was a particularly bad one. Prometheus knew she’d been having nights of bad sleep. She’d told him that she still woke up in night sweats sometimes. Tonight, she tossed and turned in the sheet, one minute cuddled against him for protection whimpering as she did so. The next, her limbs pushed against him as if to force him away. Beads of sweat dripped down her forehead and everytime he tried to wipe them away and brush her hair back, she fussed. But still she did not wake. Then, when Prometheus had thought she’d finally settled, she began to speak in hersleep.

“There never was a plan. You’re liars, all of you. You know nothing. None of you do. You can’t even see it, how far away from humanity we exist ... they are doomed. There is no redemption. Don’t you see? You speak of love and war, justice and chastity, romance and wisdom as if they are each separate entities. But you put all of them within one human body. It is too much to bear. The burden is too great. Even I can feel this human body cracking under the pressure. You gave them voices but no valve. You, the wise one, didn’t even see it coming …”

Amara sighed heavily, as if she was resigned to her fate as her hair tickled against her nose. This time when Prometheus went to tuck it behind her ear, she let out a small smile and burrowed deeper into the cream white pillow. Then her whole body seemed to sigh as she settled into a deep sleep.

Prometheus, meanwhile, stared at her in concern, one hand propping up his head. Who had she been talking to? Athena? That would be the wise one she mentioned. But she’d also said love and chastity ... perhaps Aphrodite … and had Artemis been there too? Surely she wouldn’t have spoken to her patrons in such a manner? Insubordination like that could see you strung up for an eternity of pain. Though, of course, if what Amara said was true ... she was telling them that they had already condemned her when they sent her here. And if there wasn’t a plan, if humanity truly was doomed …

A dull ache formed in the crater in his chest that Amara had smashed through, as his foresight returned with unrelenting force. It played out perfectly in his mind, the low tug in his gut confirmation that it would come to pass. The weight of the knowledge rocked him, until he crushed Amara’s soft body against his harder one. As if he hadn’t already tied his fate to hers.

She made a noise of complaint when he held her too hard and he, unwillingly, loosened his grip.

He now understood the Fates’ hand. Aphrodite’s task. His role. How it all came together perfectly. It could still work. There was hope yet. He knew what he had todo.

First, he must speak withZeus.

CHAPTER XXV

He had given himself a week before he told Amara he would be away on business for a while. Logic had dictated that he was pacing himself, but even he knew that was a lie. He wanted more time with her. He wasn’t ready to leave just yet. That selfish desire quietly told him not to rush. That desire outweighed the voice in his head that told him to use his knowledge to immediately solve Amara’s problem ... not that she remembered her sleep talking when he’d questioned her about it.

A week was nothing in the scheme of things, he reasoned to himself. Plus it allowed him to plan how he would tackle Zeus’ ego enough to get him onboard with Prometheus’ plan. He’d learnt from the last time. This time hehadto make sure it was the God of God’sidea.

“And who needs your crafts this week?” She’d teased playfully in bed the morning before he’d left forOlympus.

“My mainpatron.”

“Patron? Are we living in the Renaissanceera?”

Prometheus had scratched at his stubble, trying to think of a better way to describe Zeus but the only other words he had for his long-term friend were decidedly too brash and rude. Instead, he placed a soft kiss on herhead.

“I’ll be back before you knowit.”

“I know,” she said softly, giving him a gently admonishing look, her eyes filled with what he was hopeful was returned love.

She tugged him down for a proper kiss. He allowed her tongue to tease the edges of his mouth until he coaxed her lips open and flicked his tongue into hers. He angled his jaw, deepening the kiss, loath to ever let it end. Eventually he pulled back. He hadto.

“I’ll be fine,” she told him. “Go.”

And so here he was, wandering the dusty track of the mountains that would lead onto a spectacular field of meadows, still ripe in greenery. It used to be ripe with maidens too that Zeus often chased when his wife, Hera, wasn’t looking. Prometheus was sure he’d find him here today. He was right.

“Prometheus, old friend!” Zeus boomed across the field, making large strides towards him and enveloping him in a hug that suggested he’d forgotten the two of them had fallen out. Given the number of tasks on the King of Olympus’ to-do list, this was entirely possible. Given his ability to hold grudges, it was not. Zeus could be a mercurial character ... but today, it seemed, he swung in Prometheus’ favour.

“How are my humans? I assume that’s where you’ve been all this time? Hera has been asking after you, you know. Telling me I should invite you to dine with us. I told her I would if you’d show your bloody rugged face ... and here you are. So tell me, how arethey?”

Another common trait of Zeus’ − to not let another get a word in edgeways. It was understandable. He’d been a boisterous young boy and an upstart of a young man. Not abandoned per se but certainly left to his own devices for most of his youth, Zeus had carried that penchant for being the centre of attention ever since.

“They’re ... as well as can be expected, Lord.”

“Oh don’t you start with your doom and gloom now! And stop with the formalities. Our squabble is finished now that you have served your time. Look, Apollo has set the sun high in the sky today! Why not come out on a hunt with me? Fresh air running through your lungs will shake off any tendrils of those pesky thoughts running through yourmind.”

Clearly someone had played a hand in letting Zeus think his time had been served and that there was to be no further consequence. Prometheus wondered if that had been Athena or Tyche’s doing.

“No, Zeus, I need to speak with you.”

“We can speak as wehunt.”

Prometheus knew that tone. There was no room for debate.

The hunt ran from the afternoon to the early hours of the evening. Zeus set a punishing pace, even for a Titan such as Prometheus. Sometimes Zeus partook in a sneaky hunt, but today he was clearly feeling boisterous, bellowing out across the fields, giving the heifers plenty of warning to scarper. Zeus laughed at the thrill of the chase, and the two gods jested with each other all afternoon about who would catch the prize. Of course, it was always to be Zeus. He caught the biggest heifer and killed it quickly and cleanly, before the pair of them carried it back by its legs to the fire pit outside the palace Zeus and Hera called home. Prometheus proceeded to skin it and fillet off the meat. They would eat it that night.

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