P.C. Cast: Goddess of Light

"I'm dead, but I'm still me."

"Yes, honey, and you're going to be fine," Lina said. Then she looked up and smiled. "And here come our gods."

Hades and Apollo strode towards them through the flowered courtyard. The dark god had his hand on his friend's shoulder and was speaking earnestly to him as they walked. Apollo nodded in response, but when he saw Pamela, his attention turned completely to her as he hurried to where she and Lina sat. He stopped beside the bench.

"You look as bad as you did right after the snake bit you," Pamela said. "Your hand isn't still hurting you, is it?"

"No!" he said and almost laughed. "There is no injury left in my body." Apollo let his fingers lightly brush her cheek. "Are you yourself again, sweet Pamela?"

"Yes, I think I am. Somehow I'm different, but still me. Maybe more me than I have ever been," she said in a voice tinged with the wonder of it.

"And do you forgive me for stealing your soul and bringing it here?"

Pamela studied his handsome face. Lina had been right. She got to bring love with her, and a few other things—like faith and hope and forgiveness.

"All is well, Apollo. I forgive you," she said.

Silently, the God of Light fell to his knees, buried his head in her lap, and as she stroked his hair, Apollo wept.

On Mount Olympus Zeus listened to Artemis finish her story . The Huntress Goddess was spectacular in her anger, but she was also something else. She was passionate in her defense of the modern mortals. Intrigued, Zeus watched his daughter wipe tears from her beautiful face as she described the death of the mortal woman she claimed her brother loved. He could hardly believe the change in her. Artemis had never cared overly much for mortals. She wasn't cruel to them; she was simply aloof, cool, untouchable. They made sacrifices to the Huntress Goddess, petitioned for her aid, and Artemis even occasionally granted those requests as her whim struck her. But never in all the eons of her existence had Zeus known her to weep over a mortal. And she had spoken of the bard that had sheltered her and her twin with honest warmth. As if she truly cared for the mortal man. It was all fascinating.

"That poor, weak woman who was the instrument of Pamela's death was under the influence of Bacchus. I smelled his stench. It was as if she and the night had been bathed in it. The God of the Vine is culpable, and not simply for the death of an innocent. He manipulated all of the events that led to that sad night. And why?" The Huntress turned on Bacchus, who also stood in front of great Zeus where he sat on his raised throne. "For no other reason than spite and jealousy."

"For retribution!" Bacchus shrieked.

"Retribution?" Artemis cried. "How did Pamela deserve your punishment? She was kind and loyal. All she did was to love my brother and succor both of us when we were trapped in her world without our powers."

"The punishment wasn't for her. It was for you and your arrogant brother." Bacchus turned his wild, haunted eyes to Zeus. "Do you not see it? They thought they could take over my kingdom and never be touched for their trespass. They were not innocent visitors, they were usurpers!"

" Silence !" Zeus commanded as thunder growled across the sky. "It is time I pass judgment. Approach me, Bacchus."

The god walked hesitantly to the edge of Zeus' dais.

"You are my son, Bacchus, and I love you. But you are also your mother's child. She desired what she could not have. She could not be made to see reason, and so her desire cost Semele her life. Now you desire that which is not yours. Like your mother, I gave you a chance to see reason. Instead, you answered me with deceit and hatred. So you tell me, Bacchus, God of the Vine, what do you do when one of your vines ceases to bear good fruit?"

Confused, Bacchus blinked his small eyes and squinted at Zeus. "It is pruned at the end of the season, so that next season it will live again and bear good fruit."

Zeus nodded solemnly. "And that is your punishment, my son. Beginning now, at the end of every season your body will be sent to the Titans to be rent apart—pruned—by their mighty eagles. As you are born anew, take your lesson from the spent vine. Think on your wrongdoings, learn and bear new fruit."

As Bacchus shrieked in terror, Zeus raised his mighty hand, and the God of the Vine disappeared.

He turned his gaze to Artemis.

"Approach me, my Daughter."

Showing no fear, Artemis walked to the dais.

"Tell me what you learned in the Kingdom of Las Vegas," he said.

She met her father's storm gray eyes. "I have learned what it is to be mortal."

"Tell me what that means, Artemis."

"It means that I have learned that they are not weak, inconsequential beings who live and die in the blink of our eyes. They are not weak at all—it is only their mortal shells that must succumb. Within many of them are the sparks of honor and loyalty, friendship and love, and they shine so bright that if we could see them as they truly are, their light would blind even the gods. "

"And was it a valuable lesson?"

"I will carry it with me forever," she said.

"Then your lesson was learned through something more profound than any punishment I could mete out. It was learned through your own heart. Therefore, I will not add to it. The truth you carry within your heart is lesson enough. You are free to do as you will."

Artemis bowed her head, but before she could leave her father's throne room, his voice stopped her.

"One last thing, Daughter. Your brother has need of you. I grant you the power you will require to aid him. If you so choose."

Confused, Artemis bowed her head again. Of course she would aid Apollo.

"Thank you, Father."

"Do not thank me yet, Daughter. Love is often as painful as it is sweet. Go to Apollo now." There was no mistaking the sadness in Zeus' mighty voice.

As soon as she was free of her father's presence, she closed her eyes and willed herself to the Underworld.

" Artemis, I'm asking you to try to understand, and to try to think of a way to help me," Apollo said.

"I can't! I won't! I don't understand why you can't just leave things the way they are. Pamela seems happy. Why would she want you to change that?" Artemis plucked irritably at one of the perfect cream-colored roses that lined that part of the ornate gardens that stretched in tiers behind Hades' Palace and ended just at the edge of the Elysian Fields. As soon as she had materialized in the Underworld, she had barely had time to greet Pamela when Apollo had said he needed to speak with her and pulled her out into the gardens. She could hardly believe what he had wanted to tell her.

Apollo sighed. "I haven't talked with her about it yet. I wanted to tell you what I was thinking first, so that you could help me decide what is to be done about…" His voice faded as he paced restlessly back and forth along the path in front of her.

"You mean what is to be done about the insignificant fact that the God of Light is thinking of leaving Olympus. Forever."

Apollo frowned at her. "Not forever. Just for one lifetime."

"It will certainly feel like forever to an ancient world bereft of their Apollo!"

"Perhaps we could talk with Father. You said he's not angry at us anymore. Maybe I could convince him to—"

"To what! Be you. Make sure your chariot continues to usher the sun through the sky? You expect that of him?" Artemis tossed her long, golden hair back, trying to ignore the words that rang through her head: Your brother has need of you. I grant you the power you will require to aid him. If you so choose . Now she understood what Zeus had meant. She understood, and she hated it.