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Authors: Helen Harper

Lyre (22 page)

BOOK: Lyre
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CHAPTER NINETEEN
NEAR LITOCHORO, GREECE, 2014

 

Very little seemed to have changed in the intervening years since Oz’s ill-fated holiday to the area.  He traversed the same streets and spent the night in exactly the same small guesthouse.  Other than a well maintained wifi connection, everything seemed to be unchanged.  He kept to himself upon his arrival, staying out of sight for fear of being recognised.  Unfortunately, Orpheus were as much of a hit in Greece as they were in the rest of the world.  The last thing he needed was to be trailed around by fans. 

As keen as he was to head directly to Olympus, Oz followed the women’s directions to the letter.  The gods only took petitions after the hour of ten so he was forced to spend a long sleepless night on the narrow guesthouse bed.  A few times he tried to sleep, aware that he’d need to be as rested as possible to cope with what was to come.  It was a futile effort, however.  Every time he closed his eyes, Yuri’s face danced in front of him, smiling as she told him again and again that she didn’t want to waste any more time.  Since Sibyl and Medusa had appeared at his door he’d had a hard knot growing deep inside his chest.  With each passing hour, the pain only seemed to get worse.  It was still nothing compared to the pain Yuri would have felt when Antaeus confronted her, however.

The moment that dawn arrived, he pulled on some clothes and splashed cold water on his face.  Although it was Hera he was ostensibly going to petition, he’d been told to ask for Hades.  The Underworld Lord would not be present – he never was – but using his name would mean he’d be more likely to gain admittance into Olympus’s hallowed marble walls.  The gods would think they’d know what to expect from him. Oz had to attempt to appear ignorant to meet those expectations.  It seemed like ridiculous shadow play to him and as if his strings were being yanked around.  But he needed all the help he could get - because Yuri needed him more.

This time around, during the hike up the famous mountain, he didn’t bother to pause to drink in the beauty. He marched straight up like a man possessed.  For a while he was concerned that he’d miss the half-concealed turn-off, but his focus was such that he spotted it long before he reached it.  Checking to see that he was alone, he quickly skirted onto the less travelled path and picked up speed.  Now that he was getting closer, the anticipation of petitioning the gods was starting to burn.  Despite his single-mindedness, however, he was still stunned when he emerged out from underneath the canopy of trees and caught sight of the palace for the first time.

Oz slowed his steps, walking up to the perimeter and gazing around him.  It was unbelievable that he could have been here before and only seen a collection of pretty ruins when what greeted his eyes now was a vast imposing edifice that gleamed in the sunlight.  No wonder Yuri had gasped and been so transfixed on their first visit here.  He’d been baffled by her reaction then but now it made sense.  He’d been so determined to get here and so driven to achieve his immediate goal that he’d not imagined he could be this affected by the sight.  It was only when there was a rustle to his far right and a young woman appeared that he managed to shake himself out of his reverie.  Particularly when, oblivious to his presence, she stalked out in front of him and began to scream and shout, then throw a stone in the direction of the towering walls.

Glad for the momentary distraction, he moved closer to her.
‘I think that’s rather uncalled for, don’t you?’ he said.

She slowly turned round.  Frustration was etched across her face and her hands were screwed up into tight fists.  Unsure if she’d even understood him, he watched her intently.  He didn’t need another petitioner messing up his carefully laid plans.

As if it was a great struggle, she relaxed her muscles and pasted on a smile.  At least she didn’t seem to recognise him.  There were small mercies to be had after all.

‘Hi,’ she said.

From her accent, Oz decided she was English.  In the unhappy event that she was here to attempt to speak to Hades as well, his only recourse would be to get inside Olympus first.  Whatever was wrong with her, she was suffering from something.  But Oz only had heart enough for Yuri now.

‘Hey,’ he answered brusquely, before walking past her and down towards the palace gates.

‘Excuse me?’
she squeaked tremulously from behind.

He ignored her.  Unfortunately, she wasn’t the quitting type and she repeated her words, albeit managing to make them sound less like a question the second time around. ‘Excuse me!’

Realising that, whoever she was, she wouldn’t be as easy to dismiss as he’d hoped, he looked back round at her.
‘What can I help you with?’ Oz asked, sighing.

‘Where are you going?’

‘None of your business.’
It was a rude, but necessary, answer.

‘You’re going to Olympus, aren’t you?’ There was sudden, palpable excitement in her voice.

Oz gestured towards the palace.
‘As you see.’

‘Where…?’ She licked her lips.
‘Where is it?’

The woman couldn’t see it.  She was just as he had been ten years ago – a disbeliever.  Sadness filled him as he wondered for the umpteenth time how things might have changed if he hadn’t been so blinded to the truth.  Maybe Sibyl was right and Yuri would have merely died sooner.  The knot in his chest grew. ‘Apparently all you have to do is believe,’ he said softly. He knew he couldn’t help the woman if she couldn’t see it for herself.  Giving her a small smile, he continued on his way. ‘I’m sorry, I have to go.’

‘I believe,’ she whispered to his back.
‘I’ve been there before.’

Oz was vaguely aware of the woman following him.  Part of him wanted to tell her that if she wanted any kind of life, she should turn away now and never have anything to do with any of the gods.  Considering his own circumstances, however, he was unable to manage it.  Instead, he chose to ignore her, striding up to the gates and the waiting guard. 

Act arrogant, Medusa had told him.  You’re a rock star.  You think you know what you’re doing.  Accordingly, he forced himself not to react to the dark shadows where the armoured guard should have had eyes and tilted up his chin.

‘Oz. My name is Oz.’

‘Purpose of business?’ the guard asked robotically.

‘I’m here to petition Hades,’ Oz answered.

The guard took a step forward. ‘Hades isn’t here.’

‘Then let me see another god.
I don’t care which one.’ So far things were going to plan.  Acting wasn’t his strong suit but if meant success for Yuri, he’d win himself a damned Oscar. He shook his head slightly.
‘No, I do care which one.
Let me see Hera.’

Oz held his breath but he needn’t have worried.  The guard bowed slightly and stepped back. ‘Access granted.’

He quickly strode forward, concerned that the guard might suddenly change his mind.  He needn’t have worried; the guard’s shadow eyes were now focused on the young woman but Oz still wasn’t about to tempt fate.  He glanced at the tree in the courtyard, noting it was heavily laden with gleaming golden apples and shrugged to himself.  The gods clearly enjoyed the finer things in life.  In fact, everywhere he looked, he was confronted with mirrored marble and fixtures that seemed so expensive even his own bank account would struggle to cover them.  Oz was, however, unimpressed.  He’d spent enough time around showy music executives and egotistical celebrities seeking to push themselves to the top of the pack to think much of any veneer of glamour.  No amount of gold or marble or opulent wealth would help him to forget that he held the gods responsible for what had happened to Yuri.  He gritted his teeth and picked up speed, following the gleaming path laid out in front of him.  The guard may not have seen fit to provide directions to where he might locate Hera but he’d already had enough help on that front from Medusa and Sibyl.  He knew where to go.

At the first fork, he twisted right, ignoring the group of giggling young women draped in white linen who followed his progress.  Lurking behind them, a huge man whose features seemed to be more equine than human glared at him.  Oz looked away.  He stuffed his hands into his pockets and picked up speed.  The less time he spent in this bizarre place, the better. 

After a while, trekking through the sea of shiny marble and immaculate furnishings became tiresome.  When he finally reached a short pillar with a silver bowl of perfectly formed pomegranates, he heaved a sigh of relief and walked up to the massive door that lay behind them.  Although they were slightly ajar, he still knocked before rocking back on his heels and waiting to be gained entry.  Fortunately, he didn’t have to wait long.

‘Osbourne O’Connor,’ the young, muscled – and nearly naked - man who greeted him said.  ‘Our Lady Hera inquires as to your reason for disturbing her peace.’

‘I want to talk to her.’

‘Many do.  But you asked for Lord Hades initially.  Our Lady has no sway with the Underworld.  You should take up this matter with Zeus.’

This was the tricky part.  Medusa had been adamant that he needed to get Hera on his side.  She was a proud matriarch whose belief in the sanctity of marriage was matched only by her vengeful nature when her husband strayed.  She might be the goddess for women and fertility but if Oz played this correctly, it could win her over to his side.  He stood his ground.

‘Eleven years ago,’ he said, with only the slightest tremble, ‘I met a girl called Yuri.  It took a lot to win her over but she was worth it.  Even back then I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her.  Marry her.  Have children with her.’ He swallowed, his eyes hardening.  ‘But thanks to the meddling from Olympians we were split apart.  I found her again recently.  We re-connected.  I asked her to marry me.  And then Poseidon’s son found her and smashed her head in.  Without her, I am nothing.’

The young man’s face was impassive.  ‘Only Zeus and Hades can grant admittance to the Underworld for the living.’  He had barely finished, however, when he cocked his head to the side as if listening to something.  Oz’s ears might be attuned to the faintest shifts in pitch and tone but he couldn’t hear a damned thing.  The man raised a bare shoulder and pursed his lips, before looking at him with appraising eyes.  ‘You are luckier than most.  Our Lady Hera will discuss this with you.’

Letting out the breath he’d been holding, Oz briefly closed his eyes.  ‘Thank you.’

‘Follow me.’

He was led into a vast room.  There may have been a great deal of elegant furniture and artfully arranged items but, to Oz’s eye, it was as cold as the rest of Olympus.  He clasped his hands nervously in front of him and watched as a tall, barefoot woman entered from another door.  Her dark hair was piled on top of her head, captured in place no doubt by invisible pins.  She held herself erect, gliding towards a nearby chaise longue before gazing up at Oz.  He may not have been impressed or intimidated by Olympus so far but there was something about the goddess in front of him that made his entire body shake.  She looked him up and down for a long moment.  He opened his mouth to speak so he could continue his entreaty to her in person but she held up a long elegant arm with her palm out turned and he remained silent, waiting for her to complete her perusal.

When Hera finally did speak, there was an edge of steel to her mellifluous tone. ‘You did not marry her.’

‘There was no time.’  He clenched his teeth.  ‘She was taken from me before we could get to that point.  But I did ask her.’

‘She did not agree.’

‘Not yet.  She was going to though, I’m sure of it.’

‘Hmm.’  Hera continued to watch him.  Her face was remarkably unlined but there was both depth and wisdom in her eyes.  Oz felt as if they were searing into his soul.  ‘Did you love her?’

Something sparked inside him.  ‘I
do
love her.   I won’t accept that she’s gone.’

‘What makes you think you’re different?’ she asked.  ‘Why should you receive your heart’s desire and get her back when the rest of the world must suffer their losses?  It is the natural order.’

He was ready for this.  Tilting up his chin, he met her steely gaze.  ‘When Yuri was a child, the sirens took her father.  Poseidon helped her survive. When Yuri was a teenager, she came here and asked for answers.  She was turned away with abrupt and uncaring callousness.  Poseidon’s son, Antaeus, tried to kill her but she defeated him.’ He took a step towards Hera and repeated his words.  ‘
She
defeated
him
.  He couldn’t take it so he went after her again.  It was Olympus that caused her death and it should be Olympus that makes it right again.’

Hera raised her eyebrows.  ‘You are very impassioned.  But Olympus is not responsible for the actions of all its citizens.’

‘Then who is?’ he snarled.

She appeared faintly amused.  ‘The gods do not have to answer to mortals.’  She stood up in one fluid movement.  ‘I have heard enough.  You may leave.’

‘Wait!’ Oz burst out.

Her eyes darkened.  ‘Are you giving me an order?’  The scorn in her gaze was palpable.  She turned on her heel, gown swishing in the air as she strode away.

Feeling the moment slip away, Oz panicked. In one last ditch attempt, he sucked in a breath and closed his eyes.  Then he started to sing. 

BOOK: Lyre
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