NeOlympus [Chapter Twelve]

The satyr's hooves clacked on the baked tile floor as his lips smacked and his teeth chewed on some candied root. He sniffed and chuckled as he strolled around the scorched patterns in the floor and deeper into the cabin. With a smile, he sidled up to the other figure in the residence, the tall goddess with dark, smooth skin and beautiful red locks. "So, it is true…"

Demeter had spied the satyr's entrance and if he were any other satyr, he would have been turned around before he had set hoof in the cabin, let alone got this near to her. Not that she had anything against satyrs. She just wished not to be disturbed and had instructed the nymphs outside to facilitate that… but this was Pan. He was more than a satyr; he was a god by his own right.

"Yes," said Demeter after a long pause. "Artemis and Apollo were assaulted. Both nearly killed."

"Nearly?" asked Pan, scratching his scalp near one of the two horns.

With a sigh and a nod, Demeter retreated from the back room and returned to the kitchen. "Yes. At least last I heard both were still among the living. Seriously injured and both poisoned, but still breathing."

"A small relief then," said Pan, gnawing on the root. "Wish the same could be said for our kind."

The Mother of Nature eyed Pan. "There was another attack?" she asked it as if it were a question, as if the look in his eyes did not already tell her all she needed to know. As his head made the slightly hint of a nod, she went on. "How many?"

Pan shrugged. "We had eight satyrs butchered in Troy. They were missing for a while, but I had just received word that their remains had been found, being sold on the black market."

With head hung low, she let out a long sigh. "I am sorry. Poachers?"

Pan shook his head. "I do not believe so. I still think this is the heretics, same as the recent nymph and centaur killings. I believe they are just using the poacher's market to dispose of the evidence or turn a quick silver or two."

"I was afraid you would say that," she confessed to her much shorter companion. "I am concerned this attack on Artemis is connected to the others."

"Why?" asked Pan, biting off a piece of his snack.

"The attacks have mostly been confined to the remote wilds so far. We have had a few attacks here in these woods, but far and few between, and mostly in the edges. Never this far into the thick," Demeter explained her reasoning. "Why do you suppose that is?"

"Silver Wardens," Pan said with a nod and no time needed to consider.

"Precisely," Demeter agreed, "and the does not mention the many gods that dwell here either, such as the two of us and more importantly, Artemis."

Pan moaned as he scratched his chin. "Now I am concerned. What if this heinous assault on Artemis was a precursor to a series of grisly attacks on our kind? Take out the sheepdog so that the wolves can swarm the flock as it were."

"We should call a meeting," she said, turning on her heel and exiting the residence.

Pan hopped three times to get his legs moving at the right pace and once caught up, strolled beside her at a quicker pace to match the speed of her longer gait. "When would you like to meet?"

"As soon as possible," Demeter said with a firm nod as she made a turn, taking a specific course.

Pan bounced his head side to side. "I think I can rummage up quite a few members of the council within the day," he said with a wide grin.

"I do not care for calling a meeting without all the leaders, but which tribes would be represented?" she asked of the satyr god.

"Lampetia happens to be right here, inside the enclave," Pan explained.

"The Heliades are here?"

Pan nodded. "I was told they are guarding their master's attempted assassin."

Demeter smiled. "Just the person I was on my way to speak with."

Trying not to look surprised, Pan chuckled and then returned his focus to recalling the details he had been asked for. "Aside from Lampetia, Echo is never too far from this enclave."

Demeter stifled a giggle. "Of course you would know where she is, wouldn't you?"

Trying not to blush, Pan ignored Demeter's tease and went on. "Peitho should be near the western cove this time of year. I can send a messenger and have her here in two or three hours."

Eyeing the barracks they were approaching and seeing one of the Solar Chariots parked in the distance, Demeter smiled. "Talk to Lampetia and I suspect we can have Peitho and Maia in half that time."

"Maia? But she's- Oh… I see," he said with an excited chuckle at seeing the vehicle and its solar steeds. "But with all due respect, maybe you should talk to Lampetia."

Demeter smiled and nodded. "Noted."

The two then closed their approach on the barracks and were permitted entry by the pair of Silver Warden sentries posted outside. Both sentries were exceptionally attractive and Demeter let herself enjoy the fragrant scent off one of them as she passed, taking a moment to give herself that briefest of diversionary respites before she continued with the distressing matter. Pan, however, must have caught a whiff of the same scent as he now lingered in the doorway staring at the sentry in question. With an assertive clearing of her throat, Demeter reached back and caught one of Pan's floppy ears between her finger and thumb and with a twist of her wrist and gentle tug, returned his attention to the matter at hand.

Inside the barracks, the largest building in the enclave, there was everything that the Silver Wardens needed to sustain their lifestyle. It was by no means luxurious but it was very comfortable. There were master crafted beds, sparring pits, an indoor archery range, a stocked kitchen with fresh game being skinned and cooked at all times, and more. Approaching a large staircase in the middle of the building's open common area, Demeter could ascend the steps to find the meeting chamber for the Natural Order, but instead she and Pan walked around the staircase and accessed a heavy door that was concealed behind the staircase. Beyond the door was another set of steps, these ones of hewn stone instead of wood and descending into the ground.

The two lower levels were known as the root cellar and the pit. The root cellar was the higher of the two and was where dried goods and non-dangerous stores were kept. Anything that could be considered armor or weaponry was handled at the armory, an attached building on the main floor which was heavily guarded. The pit was below the root cellar and this was accessed via a second set of steps which Demeter and Pan descended to find a single slightly sloped corridor with metal doors on the sides of the hallway and a big open pit at the end, only sealed from access by a metallic grate placed over it.

Next to this pit, Lampetia and two of her Heliade sisters were found. The Heliades were amber skinned beauties with fall the color of autumn leaves, ranging in colors of reds, oranges, yellows, and browns. While no Heliade had a head of hair with a single color, most had two and some had three, but only Lampetia herself had all four colors in her hair, making her the most recognizable of the lot.

The Heliades were the sworn valets, bodyguards, attendants, and heralds of Apollo. They wore a topcoat of goldcloth, a crimson silk scarf tucked into a scarlet leather waistcoat, brown wool trousers, and black knee high riding boots, with the coats of Lampetia and her six sisters that made up the original seven Heliades adorned with sunburst embroidery on the shoulders and cuffs. One could also recognize them by the aurichalcum whip lashed to their side, which gave off a brilliant golden essence glow when armed in hand.

"Leave us," Lampetia told the other two upon the arrival of Demeter and Pan. With a nod and no verbal response, the lesser Heliades consented to the order and retreated up the steps, likely taking posts in the root cellar to prevent any disruptions.

As they passed her by, Demeter noted the lack of embroidery on their coats and felt better for not having recalled their specific faces. Though there were originally eight in their order: Lampetia and her six sisters, along with their late brother Phaeton; the order had grown considerably over the span of eons with the inclusion of their daughters.

Often misunderstood to be like the Silver Wardens that serve Artemis, the Sunriders of Apollo are not made up of nymphs and mortal priestesses. Their ranks are solely made up of the nymph-like race of Heliades. Demeter preferred to think of them as nymphs as they were recognized by the Natural Order as such, but the truth was they were similar, but very different.

The first nymphs, the Okeanides, were created by Tethys and Gaia. One of the first Titans created by Gaia, Okeanos, was an unstable construct and prone to dissolving and reforming and this constant state of flux brought him considerable pain. Tethys was the only Titan that felt compelled to find a way to ease Okeanos' suffering and so she pleaded to Gaia to help her do so.

The solution to Okeanos' plight was to combine his essence and substance with those of Tethys for stabilization. However, this joining did not go forth as they suspected it might and instead, Gaia bore witness to the birth of a new race of beings, the Okeanides, the first nymphs. Each one was different and unique, some possessing wildly elementally based physiologies and appearance, but all female and retaining fragments of Tethys' memory and personality.

These beings were much less powerful than the two original Titans, but there were more of them and this meant they could oversee a wider area, acting as Gaia's field researchers and scouts. Their nature was also possessed of the right amount of stability and mutability which allowed them to mate with mortals to even further their numbers, but these offspring lacked the ichor in their veins that the Okeanides possessed and were thus mortal and not immortal like their mothers. Furthermore, only the daughters of the Okeanides were elementally tied, the rare son born to them was an entirely different being altogether, a horned and goat-legged creature they called satyrs, who had gained Okeanos' subliminal desire to procreate but Tethys' bestial essence and stable form.

Contrasting this with the Heliades, who were created much later and had a single parent. The Titan Hyperion, who after surrendering in battle and pleading not to be locked in Tartarus with the other Titans, was forced by Apollo to douse himself in the Underworld river called Styx, dissolving him into the primordial matter he had been created from and then reshaped into eight beings, each with one eighth of his power. These beings became Phaeton and his seven sisters: Merope, Helie, Aigle, Phoibe, Aetherie, Dioxippe, and Lampetia.

Though still bound by the oath their 'father' Hyperion had sworn, the Heliosi (the collective name for Phaeton and the Heliades) were possessed of new identities and personalities, unique to each other and shaped by Apollo himself, thereby assuring the new sun god that they were not likely to revolt against him as he feared the Titan might do.

Originally the Heliades were not considered to be nymphs, considering they had a non-satyr brother. However, after Phaeton's death the Heliades were grief-stricken and this emotional disruption also caused their internal essence to become unstable. In this moment of vulnerability, they accidentally absorbed their departed brother's essence and became even more unstable, soaking in essence from nature and transforming themselves into poplar trees.

Upon discovering that this had happened to his Heliades, Apollo reached out to Artemis for counsel and in turn, Artemis sought the aid of the nymphs, specifically the dryads who were known to transform into trees themselves. Through the guidance of the nymphs, the Heliades learned to control their ability and newfound connection to nature, and were then invited to join the union of nymph tribes.

While the seven original Heliades were each immortal, and thus on par with the Okeanides who each had a seat among the nymph elders, the Heliades chose to name Lampetia as their sole delegate, not wanting their tribe's representation to be unfairly represented or to pull too many of them away from their sworn service to Apollo.

Stern and dutiful, Lampetia was a fine choice to lead the Heliades. Despite their many differences, Demeter had always liked her. She hoped the feeling was mutual.

Now alone with the Mother of Nature and the satyr god, Lampetia eyed the two for a long moment before finally speaking. "Am I to assume you are wishing to speak with the prisoner?"

"Perhaps," said Demeter with a nod, leaning against the stone wall of the corridor and folding her arms. "Would that be permissible?"

Lampetia gave a quiet nod. "It would be, were he here."

Pan's eyes shot open. "He's escaped?"

Lampetia shook her head. "You just missed him," she explained. "Nike and Bia were here not minutes ago and retrieved him for prisoner transport to Olympus. At least that is what my sisters tell me," she said, using the term 'sisters' to denote the other members of her tribe, despite them technically being her distantly descended nieces or granddaughters. "I also came here with the intent to speak to the prisoner but apparently Zeus wished to have word with him before me."

Demeter's eyes shot open. "Zeus calls summoned him for an audience?" she glanced at Pan. "We'll need to make haste to Olympus if we wish to have any words with him at all then. That is assuming all is not lost and Zeus has not already smote the bastard!" she exclaimed as she turned to leave the dungeon.

"What of the gathering?" asked Pan.

"Gathering?" asked Lampetia, stepping forward. "Is this in regard to the recent killings I have heard tale of?"

Demeter paused to look over her shoulder. "Yes, actually; is there something you know or wish to say?"  

Nodding, Lampetia approached with a bold stride, one arm clasping the other behind her back. "We found this among the prisoner's possessions," she said as her arms appeared in front of her. She opened her gloved hand and displayed a flask. It looked rusty and unremarkable, but as she wiped her gloved thumb across the surface of the container, a deception was revealed. Smudged over the flask's surface was some sort of grease or paint, meant to hide the flask's true nature.

"Aurichalcum?" asked the Mother of Nature. "What need would he have for such a precious metal to be made into something so mundane?"

"Because it does not contain the mundane," said Pan, stroking his tuft of facial hair. "Aurichalcum is used in alchemy. Perhaps, does this flask bear a potion?"

Removing the cap and holding her hand over its mouth, Lampetia allowed the contents to cast a golden glow on her gloved palm.

"Nektar?" asked Demeter, raising an eyebrow.

Pan shook his head. "No, the color is off… Nektar is in there, certainly, but it is mixed with something else."

Lampetia smirked and held the flask for Pan to examine. With his own grin, he accepted the offer, placed one eye in the mouth for a visual inspection, and then dated to sniff at the contents. Immediately, he tossed the flask back to Lampetia whose quick reflexes allowed her to snatch it from the air without spilling a drop and place the cap back on its mouth in one solid fluid motion before Pan could collapse to the corner, gagging and heaving.

Demeter shot a curious glance to Pan and once she was certain he was not harmed, she eyed Lampetia once more with a curious tilt of her head. "Explain."

"I have my suspicions but Pan has the more reliable senses," she said, folding her arms and waiting for the satyr to compose himself.

Coughing, Pan returned to the sunrider and goddess, wiping his lips with the back of his head. He had not lost his morning meal entirely, but there was the smell of digested berries on his breath. "It be ichor… well, demichor."

The substance in the vein of the gods was ichor. It was bright and orange in color and burned mortal flesh on contact when freshly spilled. It was what granted them their essence manipulation powers and also what gave them immortality. It ran through the veins of Demeter, Pan, and Lampetia alike, though only Lampetia was born with it.

Demeter and Pan were born mortal and through Titan intervention had their veins transfused with ichor in a now lost process known as exaltation. With the added infusion of essence, they and the others like them had transitioned from mortal to divine. Lampetia, the other Heliades, and the Okeanides had received ichor by merit of their Titan progenitors having had essence-rich ichor. Other gods, like Apollo and Artemis, whose parents had ichor were likewise born with ichor-enabled biology.

Mortals, whether human or Elysian, had blood. Pure and simple; but nymphs and satyrs, and demigods, and other wondrous beings tainted with mortality but still able to manipulate essence in a variety of ways had a lesser form of ichor that had more traits shared with blood but still allowed a positive conductivity with essence. This substance was known as demichor.

At once, Demeter understood the concern that Lampetia now had. "You suspect that the demichor in that flask was being drunk by this prisoner?"

The sunrider nodded. "I do."

Pan let out an annoyed sigh as he looked up to the two goddesses. "Most of the missing nymphs and satyrs whose remains have been recovered have been dissected, defiled, or drained. Demichor harvesting could be their end goal here."

Releasing an agitated groan and clenching her teeth, Demeter shook her head. "This heresy runs deeper than we could have ever possibly imagined. Convene the gathering at once, Pan…" she said as she made her way to the stairs, pausing at the base of which to gaze over her shoulder to Lampetia. "Sunriders will accommodate Pan's requests for transport of the Okeanides. Understood?"

Lampetia did not question the Mother of Nature, only consenting with a nod.

As Demeter carried herself up the stairs, Pan's cloven hooves raced to the steps as well. "And if I may be so bold," he stammered, "might I ask where are you intending to go in this moment?"

Continuing up the stairs, Demeter did not look back. "To speak to my brother and his prisoner."

Just minutes later, Demeter burst through the doors of the Olympian throne room, having left the barracks, ascended through the enclave's anchor, and given clearance by the throne guard to enter due to her credentials as a member of both the Council of Twelve and the Quorum of Six.

With determined pace, Demeter found Zeus standing halfway down the steps to his raised throne. Zeus' throne was made out of a black, unknown metal with a marbled polish and aurichalcum piping. The throne was so large that it had seven steps leading up to it, each one made of the same black metal but tinted with a color of the rainbow. Draped over the back of the throne was a fine azure cloak which was a gift from long ago that Zeus liked to decorate his throne with as a symbol of his domain over the sky and a dyed purple fleece he draped on the seat for comfort. On the right arm of the throne was an aurichalcum ornament roughly resembling an eagle's head with crystallized red essence for its eyes and on the left arm was a silver abstract bull's head, with eyes of glowing molten metal.

Holding Zeus' left hand was Hera, draping leisurely in her throne and drinking Nektar from a finely made gossamer flute that was so clear it almost seemed as though the Nektar were simply floating untouched over her hand. Hera's throne was made out of a similar alloy to Zeus' but had an ivory polish. There were only three steps leading up to her throne all made of gossamer, as was the base, except for three oval pads placed on the center of each step for traction. This gave her throne the appearance of flying in midair, and she decorated her throne with decals of aurichalcum cuckoos and willow leaves and a cowskin cushion.

Before the two gods, kneeling on the ground and stripped of all clothing and possessions (unless one would count the adamant chains binding his neck and arms to be in his possession) was the prisoner. On either side of him with his chains in one hand and adamantine blades in the other, were Bia and Zelus, brother and sister and both members of the throne guard.

Zeus seemed as though he had been the midst of an interrogation when he turned his attention to Demeter's entry. "Sister, whatever it is, it can wait-"

"I defy that," she said still strolling across the vast chamber floor. As she reached the halfway point, where the closest thrones were found, Hebe approached her and offered her a hastily filled and wet chalice. Demeter had no intention of accepting it, but after taking two steps past it, paused and reconsidered.

"Excuse me?" asked Zeus.

Demeter silently thanked Hebe with a nod and then continued on, eventually angling herself toward Hera's side of the chamber where her own throne could be found. "As a member of this council, I have a right to use this chamber and never to be denied a chance to speak. Is that not right?"

Zeus glowered at her, but kept a smirk on his lips. "True, but this is a crucial matter that I am not certain you have been briefed-"

"I know enough," she assured him as she reached the point where she was standing parallel to the throne guards, with the prisoner a step or two behind. As she walked around Bia's armed side, she placed a cautious touch on the guardian's shoulder plate. "I am not certain you are aware of all of this heretic's most heinous acts."

Hera raised an eyebrow. "Heretic? We were informed he was a god…"

Zeus pointed to the prisoner, still bearing wounds and smeared. "Can you not see he bleeds ichor even before you? How can one be a heretic and a god?"

"In his possession was a flask," said Demeter, holding her chalice by the exterior of its bowl with her thumb and four fingers as she lowered it to her side. "Contained inside this flask was what seems to be an alchemical mixture which combines our precious Nektar and the even more precious demichor of slain nymphs and satyrs."

Zeus scowled. "What?!" was his booming reply that carried the heft of contained thunder. He stepped down the remaining steps and approached the prisoner.

Demeter saw Hera sit up in her throne as her husband's pace went from steady walk to quickened charge. The throne guards each took a reflexive step from the prisoner and braced their grip on the chain.

Crackling with electrical essence from his hands and eyes, Zeus lunged forward. He grabbed the chain around the prisoner's neck and then lifted the prisoner off the ground. With his arms bound behind him, the prisoner could do little more than grit his teeth and wince as the lightning surged through his body.

The throne guard kept hold of the chain, relying on their enchanted armor to dispel excessive lightning that coursed through the chains.

"Husband!" barked Zeus. "Might I remind you we have not finished questioning him?"

Demeter held a hand up, silencing her sister, and then approached Zeus as he cast the prisoner to the floor and let his lightning slowly die down. "You would not have killed him. Let us be honest. If you had intended to kill him, you would have done so when he was first brought before you for what he had done to Artemis and Apollo."

Spitting upon the prisoner before turning to face Demeter, Zeus furrowed his brow. "Make no mistake about this, Demeter, he will die. Whether by hand or by my order, he will die… it is only a matter of when," he said, casting his eyes back to the prisoner as the throne guard got the prisoner back to his feet, only to kick the back of his shins and force him into a kneeling position once more.

As the prisoner was manhandled, Demeter saw him with the Olympian hearth behind him. This provided her with a different vantage point and she could see in, the light of the hearth, scorched markings both old and new on his flesh. Then she realized this outburst she had just witnessed was not Zeus' first attack on the perpetrator.

"My apologies, brother," she said with a respectful nod and then retreated to her throne.

Next to Hera's throne, but at a ninety-degree angle, was the seat of Demeter. Hers had been given a bright green malachite polish and had a red velvet blanket cast over it, with golden tassels dotting the edges of the blanket, each tassel shaped like a stalk of barley. Demeter had a single high step to her throne.

As Demeter settled into her throne, tossing a corner of the blanket over her lap and finally sampling her Nektar, she eyed Zeus and saw he was still focusing his eyes on her. She wondered if he was considering the news she had brought him or brewing his rage over her timing. Demeter drank deep from her goblet and pondered the matter for a brief time before casting it from her mind. Deliberating the processes of Zeus' mind was a moot exercise as though both he and she shared a healthy libido and a passion for mortals; they differed in far more revealing ways that made usually agree to disagree.

After a few moments longer, it was Hera who spoke. "Zeus," she said with a slight motion of her head, "the prisoner?"

Clearing his throat, Zeus returned his focus to the chained god. He stared for a long, awkward moment that Demeter was pleased to not be on the receiving end of. Then, the elder god reached into the pocket of his long coat and retrieved a necklace with a broken chain. The prisoner's eyes enlarged upon seeing this as those of Hera and Demeter narrowed to examine the jewelry from a distance. "It has been sometime since we met… and you have aged in a most curious manner, seeing as though you are now so young and," Zeus took a moment to look the prisoner over with appraising eyes and a lascivious grin, "fit; but when we last met, you were old and wrinkled. I assumed you had finally withered and died, but now I see that is not so… Is it?"

The prisoner chuckled with a lopsided smirk. "You always were too clever for your own good, son of Kronos."

Hera stepped down a single step from her throne. "Zeus, you know who this man is?"

"I do," he said with a nod and an ever-growing smile. "I met him in my travels long, long ago. First when he was a general in his father's army. He chased me into a quarry with his battalion of soldiers, all of them abominations given unnatural might from tainted essence siphoned from his own automaton wife's artificial heart's blood."

The prisoner smiled. "We nearly had you. I could have struck you down then, Zeus," he said, slowly shaking his head, "and believe me, I wish I had."

Hera took another step down as Demeter also stood upright. The sisters shared a glance, both measuring one another to see if they were reaching the same conclusion as to the prisoner's identity. But both also shared an expression of doubt as such a notion seemed impossible.

"It cannot be," said Hera.

"And yet," added Demeter, "it seems it is."

Zeus lowered his shoulders and controlled his breathing, containing his lightning from manifesting itself. "How can this be? By what foul magic do you still draw breath?"

The prisoner eyed the floor. He chuckled and slowly lifted his eyes, glowering at Zeus with such disdain while his lips made a sickening grin, his lips turned black and putrid veins branching out from his mouth, causing his skin to grow pale as they spread. His eyes flashed red and then his teeth became fangs. Then as he climbed to his feet in defiance of the throne god yanking on his chain with all their might, the prisoner began to cackle with unearthly pitch. "Just a little trick my father taught me once," he said, taking one step forward as Zeus took his own backward, "before you locked him away forever!" he screamed and lunged forward, his jaw unhinging and his cheeks tearing apart to give him a bite large enough to take Zeus' head off in one snap.

Fortunately, he did not get the chance to do so as his back arched and his foul features disappeared to return him to human form with torn cheeks as he let out an agonizing cry over the sounds of sizzling flesh, the guardians' grunts, and rattling chains.

When the prisoner fell to the floor unconscious, it was the eldest of the elder gods, Hestia standing a step behind where he once stood. Hestia's hands were gripping the Empyrean Torch which she had used to brand the back of the prisoner. As all eyes turned to her, thankful for her arrival, Hestia shifted the grip of her torch to one hand and tossed it into the nearby hearth as she scoffed and smirked. "Sorry to interrupt," she said as she strolled closer. In passing, she checked the prisoner's body with a sharp kick to his ribs and gave a quiet nod before finishing her approach to Zeus.

"Thank you," Zeus said with a polite nod.

Hestia smiled silently and retrieved the necklace from Zeus' hand. She eyed it for a moment, nodded to herself, and returned it to her brother. As she strolled back to the prisoner, she took a moment to breathe in deeply and then she lifted her booted foot and stomped down on the freshly scorched skin between the prisoner's shoulder blades, causing him to let out a harrowing scream and cough up a discolored black tar-like substance that sizzled on the metallic floor like spilled ichor.

"Hestia!" barked Hera. "Control yourself!"

Hestia glanced at Hera, then to Zeus, and finally to Demeter. "Very well," she said, adjusting her tool belt and then her cap. "I have better things to attend to anyway," she said as she started to saunter away, snatching up her torch as she passed the hearth. As she rounded the side of Hermes' throne on the far right hand side of the chamber from where her siblings stood, Hestia looked back at them and pointed to the prisoner. "You best not smite him without me. I deserve to watch him suffer for what he has done!"

And with that, Hestia saw her way out, slamming the side door near the Nektar font, leaving a confused Hebe looking all around the room for answers that were not forthcoming.

"Well?" asked Demeter.

Zeus waved his hand dismissively to the guards. "Take him to Tartarus."

Bia balked at this. "Surely you misspoke. Did you mean the holding cells here, my king?"

Hera took another step and shook her head, glaring at the throne guardians. "March him down to the Underworld this instant, find Hades at once, and lock this abomination where he belongs! Chain him next to his wretched father for all I care!" and with that order given, Hera moved in next to Zeus and procured the accessory to inspect it herself. "How can this be? How could he have survived? Surely the ravages of time would have killed him long ago…"

"Not to mention the fact he should have been left on Earth," Demeter added, "during the pilgrimage and yet… here he is," she said as she watched Bia and Zelus drag the prisoner from the throne room. "So the truly vital question is not 'how this is', but instead 'what do we do now'?"

Zeus nodded. "And how many more are there?"