Page 52 of Prometheus' Priestess

Hoisting himself up by his leathered forearms, he crouched and crawled on his belly into the heart of the cave. There, at the back, was the white fire. The cave was much deeper than it appeared, the white fire a mere speck down a long, dark caved corridor devoid of light.

Prometheus wondered if this was what the humans meant when they said they saw ‘a light at the end of the tunnel’ when their human remains returned to Gaia. He wondered if some imprint of the fire that had branded them was etched into their DNA. Some ancient knowledge, some part of the fire crackled throughout them, longing to be reunited.

Reaching the back ofthe cave, he could feel the heat searing off the white fire. It crackled over the three branches. Those branches had come from the first tree Gaia had sprouted. The tree of knowledge, some had called it. It had transcended across all religions in some form or another. The burning bush, the tree of knowledge ... the humans had a multitude of stories for it. All true. All missing details. Funny, how they still argued over those details while missing the facts. It was the only tree that could contain the everlasting white fire that never burnt out. So he and Zeus had trimmed three branches, with Gaia’s permission, and hidden the white fire here so the mortals and gods alike would never find it. Except now they needed it. Amara needed it.

Teeth gritted in determination, Prometheus reached in and grabbed one of the branches. Though it scorched his skin to do so − for God of Fire he may be but this was no normal fire − the agony was just about bearable with the leather protection. With the white fire in his grasp, he didn’t have long to get back down the mountainside and into the human realm. Carrying the white fire would attract the attention of many should they see it. The way the white flame danced into purple, with glints of gold and blues and greens ... it was unmistakable.

Making his way as carefully but as quickly as he could back down the mountain track, Prometheus paused only twice. Both times when he suspected he was being watched by something or someone. Luckily, there were plenty of large boulders to obscure him, and the fire, from view. Eventually he made it back down the mountain, through the still-sleeping Olympus before Apollo set the sun in the sky, and over the rainbow bridge provided by Iris.

The rainbow bridge − the connection between the heavens in Olympus the gods resided in and the Earth the humans inhabited. Separated only by the fact that the humans couldn’t physicallyseethe bridge. That would begin to changenow.

For with the white fire, the humans would have access to all the same knowledge that the gods held. To look into the white fire was to burn away all hidden secrets. Any human who looked into it would have their memory restored ... to the beginning of time. To when they were created. They would know exactly their role on Earth once more.

It was a dangerous gift. Not one that could be given to everyone. It would cause carnage and chaos in the wrong hands. But for Amara, it would unlock the memories she needed to be freed from a human prison and restore her alchemy. It was the only way. The challenges had failed, her alchemy lost. Even his love hadn’t burnt away the fear that resided in her even now.Thiswas the only way to save her. He just hoped that by presenting her with it he would redeem himself, for all the months of deception, in hereyes.

Prometheus stepped over the threshold, white fire in hand.

CHAPTER XXVII

“Amara ... Amara ...”

“Theo?” Amara muttered groggily, sitting up on one elbow while her other hand tried to rub sleep from her eyes haphazardly. The room was blurry as she blinked them open and for a moment she didn’t realise where she was.

That’s right, she thought. She had fallen asleep on the sofa in the communal living room again. She turned towards the sound of Theo’s face and felt warmth stroke her face.

That’s weird. Why had he lit a fire inside when autumn was still relatively warm thisyear?

Looking towards the grate, she saw that the fire was flickering a white gold. She shook her head, trying to clear the blur behind her eyes and see the flames as they were. It didn’t work. Rubbing her eyes again, she stared. But the flames didn’tchange.

Turning to her right, she looked at him. There he was, his face strained in concern. She could have sworn he had aged in the time he had been away. Deep grooves bracketed his mouth and furrowed his brow. She traced them with her fingertips. They felt real enough.

She glanced back to the fire, which now had streaks of purple and gold flickering through it. She was definitely still dreaming. She must lay off the brandy, she reminded herself.

“Amara, are you listening to me? I need you tolisten.”

“Mmm,” she murmured. The fire was so warm, the blanket so snuggly, the sofa beneath her spongy in its softness as she settled back down …

“Amara!” A hard shake of her shoulders that stuttered herbones.

“What?!” she said, sitting bolt upright inalarm.

“I need you to listen to me carefully. I can’t staylong.”

“The dream is going to end soon,” she rationalised to herself, nodding as she did so and sliding back down.

“Amara, this isn’t a dream,” heurged.

She cocked her head to one side. “Then why are you leaving? You know I don’t like it when you leave.” Tears began to traitorously leak out of her eyes.

Prometheus realised she must think she was still dreaming, for while she wore her heart on her sleeve, she did so unknowingly. She was never willingly vulnerable. To be so would be to admit to him that she …

They didn’t have time for this.

He needed to get Amara to see the fire and put it back before anyone on Olympus noticed something was happening in the human realm. No one need know he had brought the fire here. He could claim Aphrodite’s plan had worked, that it had awakened Amara to her alchemy gifts once again. Aphrodite would buy it, for she was vain like that, and no one would question her success for fear of facing her wrath. Amara could then teach the gifts and Zeus would get his way with the humans without realising Prometheus had tricked him. It could work, but Amara had to bewilling.

He raised his hand to cup her cheek, but when tears continued to slide down them slowly, he wiped them with his thumb, brought it to his lips and sucked the droplet into his mouth.

“Amara, I’m here. You can feel me. See?”

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