Carrie Vaughn - Discord's Apple

Apollo said, “If I take Odysseus’s part, if I ensure that he is able to return to his home and wife, will you come willingly to my bed?”

Sinon would have thrown himself off a cliff to help Odysseus. What Apollo asked—it was little enough. “Yes.”

Voices volleyed around the theater. “I say he fights.”

Another said, “I say he doesn’t!”

“Enough!” Zeus stood. Now his voice thundered, echoing against the stony hillside. Everyone fell silent. The slaves cowered behind their masters’ chairs. Sinon was on his knees, head bowed. “I will not stay silent while you gamble on the lives of mortals. They are not our playthings, however much some of you might treat them as such. We destroyed one of the greatest human cities because of our rivalries. Isn’t that enough?”

Apollo stood slowly, as if he had come to a momentous decision. “You are right, Father, of course. Our sister Athena is right. You should send Odysseus home.”

Athena bowed to Apollo, but her gaze was narrowed, her brow creased with curiosity.

Zeus said, “And you take this position because—?”

“Because it wins us nothing to keep him away from home. I’m sure he prays to the gods daily for release. Why not answer his prayer and win a bit of faith?” He returned to his seat and rested his hand on his chin.

Ares gripped his armrests. “I want to see if I win my bet!”

“Ares, be quiet,” Zeus said. “Hermes!”

The messenger god sprang from his seat and, moving so quickly he was a blur of light, crossed to Zeus’s dais and bowed. “Go to Calypso and tell her she must set Odysseus on the path home. No arguments.”

“At once, Father.” In another flash of light, a breath of wind blowing with his passage, he was gone.

Athena bowed. “Thank you, Father.”

Zeus waved her away. “You should all know that as many mortals hate us as worship us. They know it was the jealousy of vain goddesses that destroyed Troy and ruined the kingdoms of Greece. A time will come when they find they do not need us. And if they do not love us, what will they do with us then? I’m tired of listening to you lot. Leave me now.”

Thus the council ended. The gods and goddess rose, bowed to the King on his throne, and began to disperse.

Apollo said quietly to Sinon, “Do you see the woman there in the white veil and sea-green gown? She is Ino, one of the sea goddesses. Go tell her I wish to speak with her.”

Sinon blinked. “You want me to tell a goddess?”

“I want you to deliver a message. Now, go.”

The woman he had pointed out was leaving the stone benches, her two handmaidens accompanying her. Sinon had to slip around them, nearly leaping into the goddess’s path. Haughty, she stared at him through the misty fabric of her veil, which rippled in the sea air. One of the handmaidens lifted her gaze, her eyes widening.

He recalled everything he had ever learned of manners and fine speech. He bowed deeply. “Great lady, my master, Phoebus Apollo of the Sun, wishes to speak words with you, if you would deign to linger for but a moment.”

She might not even have been breathing, she stood so still, reacted so little. Then the veil rustled as she spoke. “Call him here. I will wait.”

Sinon bowed yet again, then ran to tell Apollo. “She’s waiting for you.”

“Good.”

Sinon followed the Sun God. Apollo stood before Ino and merely inclined his head. “My lady. Thank you for staying.”

“Your servant asked so nicely, how could I refuse?” She spared him a glance, the tiniest shifting of her head. Sinon wished he could see her without the veil.

Wool, fog.

“I need to ask a favor of you. Poseidon will hear of this. He will be angry. Watch over this Odysseus for me. See that he reaches the shore.”

“You’ll owe me a favor, Phoebus Apollo.”

“I believe that is how such arrangements work. You will have my thanks, at such time as you feel the need to call upon it.”

They nodded politely to each other, and Apollo stepped aside to let her pass. The handmaiden who’d looked up before glanced over her shoulder at Sinon. She had red hair and green eyes that made his heart clench.

Apollo said, “Poseidon will send Odysseus storms. Ino will protect him. Satisfied?”

“Yes.” He looked away, feeling suddenly tired. He would never see Odysseus home and happy. But he would know his friend was safe.

“Quick now, stand behind me and look submissive.”

Sinon looked up—Athena stood before them. She studied every inch of him, and he knew that she saw inside him, saw everything about him, knew who he was and what he had done.

If she knew what he’d done for Odysseus, would she care?

“Can I help you, Sister?” Apollo said.

She turned her cold gaze to the god. “I only wanted to discover what you’re getting by taking my side. Now I know.” She smiled at Sinon and walked away.

“Come on,” Apollo said, tipping his head as he turned to indicate that Sinon should follow.

Sinon didn’t see the doorway that exited Olympus. He followed Apollo to the edge of the stone theater and found himself back in the Sun Palace. After the sun and breeze of the theater, the light and air here seemed harsh and artificial.

Apollo said, “So. What did you think of the Gods of Olympus?”

Olympus hadn’t been what he expected. Sinon chuckled while he decided how best to say what he wished. The Council of the Gods had reminded him of the meeting in Agamemnon’s tent as they planned the destruction of Troy. Powerful, arrogant men trying to compromise. No one willing to let go of his pride. Achilles sulking because of a perceived insult.

Ten years ago.

He said, “You’re human. As human as I am. At least, you used to be.”

“Very good. As clever as Odysseus. We were mortal magicians who became powerful enough to make ourselves gods. And the only things that amuse us anymore are the lives of mortals. It’s ironic, don’t you think?”

Sinon crossed his arms and stalked toward the god—the man. Apollo was shorter than Sinon. The Sun God grinned up at him, smug and playful. Like the whole thing was a joke he enjoyed telling again and again. The gods and their human passions. So much became clear.

He stopped just short of touching Apollo, so they could feel the heat of each other’s skin.

“You’re a fucking bastard,” Sinon said, and kissed Apollo on the mouth.

Apollo held his face and pressed himself against Sinon. Pausing to take a breath, he said, “Yes. Yes, I am.”

By the time Evie and Alex carried Frank to the kitchen door, he could stand again and pulled away from them.

“It’s just a pain I get sometimes.” His mouth was locked in a grimace, his voice harsh.

“How often is sometimes? How long has this been happening?” Evie demanded.

“Never mind.”

“Dad—” Over and over again, Evie made the word a plea. Tell me what’s happening, tell me what’s wrong, I don’t understand.

“I just need to rest.”

He kept saying that.

Alex let him go as they entered the kitchen, but Evie clung to his arm. She trailed beside him, helpless.

Finally, in the living room, her father stopped and took hold of her shoulders. “Evie. I’m going to go to my room, take some painkillers, and lie down. I’ll call you if I need anything.”

She didn’t believe him. His voice never sounded like that, on the edge of breaking, harsh with stifled emotion. He would suffer in silence until he curled up and disappeared into the pain.

“Promise?” she said, her voice small.

Nodding, he gave her arms a final squeeze. He let go, went into his room, limping, and closed the door.