Goddess of Light (42 page)

“Leave the sky!” he commanded the waning sun. “Return my powers to me!”

Pamela felt nothing, just an odd sense of wrongness. As if she had awakened in a dark room in a strange bed, she couldn't see and couldn't get her bearings. Then she heard a scream that tore through her soul. She knew it was Apollo. She tried to open her mouth and call out to him, but her body was no longer under her control. She fought against it, but her eyes closed an instant before the sun set.

Apollo knew when she died. It was one breath before the pain in his hand disappeared and immortal power filled his body. Panicked, he lay her carefully on the cement road and placed his hands on her bloody chest.

“Live!”
commanded the God of Light, though he knew he was too late. Even with his immortal powers, he could not reset time. He could not undo what was already done. “No!” his tears mingled with her blood.
“No!”
he cried.

“Someone call 911!”

“Oh my god! Get an ambulance!”

“Is there a doctor here?”

Apollo heard the cries of the mortals around him. They would come and take her from him.

“No!”
he screamed his rage. Standing, he threw his arms out wide.
“Be silent!”
His command shot like an arrow through the growing crowd, forming a wall of power that struck each of them deaf and dumb, turning the mortals into silent, openmouthed statues.

Then the God of Light looked down at his fallen love.

“No.” He whispered the word this time. “It will not be.” He made the decision quickly. He had to. If he hesitated now, it would be too late. Regardless of the consequences, it was the only way. Apollo stretched his hands out above Pamela's body. “Come to me. I command you not to depart this realm.”

Beneath Apollo's outstretched hands, Pamela's body began to glow, and then a sphere of pure light lifted to hover between the god's palms.

“Apollo!”

He heard the cry behind him and, keeping the globe of light between his hands, he whirled. Like a sprite, Artemis ran through the smashed cars and silent, frozen mortals until she came close enough to see what it was her brother loomed over and what it was he held between his palms. She gasped and covered her mouth with her hands. Moving with surprising speed, Eddie rushed up beside her. As his mind tried to make sense of the scene before him, the author's face drained of all color.

“You should not have lifted the spell from him,” Apollo snarled.

“I didn't know . . . I didn't think . . . Oh, my brother. What have you done?” She stared from Pamela's body to the pulsing light he gripped possessively.

“I was too late,” he said brokenly. “The sun was too late. They killed her.”

Artemis approached him slowly, as if he was one of her wild woodland creatures. “But what are you doing? You hold her immortal soul.”

Apollo cradled the light against his body. “I will not lose her!”

“Apollo—” she began.

“No! I will not lose her!” His angry cry caused lightning to spike across the sky. “Laws of the Universe be damned. Over and over it has been said that love is the strongest force in the universe.” The god's wild eyes turned to the stunned author. “You are a bard in this world. Is that not what you proclaim?”

Unable to find the words to speak, E. D. Faust could only nod.

“Then I say my love for her overrules the Laws of the Universe!”

“Apollo, you can not keep her like this. Her immortal soul will not rest in this realm. You know that,” Artemis said.

“I am not going to keep her in this realm.”

Artemis' eyes widened with understanding. “Hades!”

“He will know what to do. He
must
know what to do,” Apollo said.

“Yes.” The goddess's voice broke. “Go to your friend, my Brother. I pray that he will have an answer for you. For both of you.”

His expression dazed, as if he was just noticing the extent of what his power had wrought, Apollo looked around him at the crumpled cars and frozen people.

“I will make this right,” Artemis said. “Go. Pamela needs you.”

“Zeus?”

“I will appear before our father. It was because of me you entered this kingdom. I began this. I should end it.”

Apollo shook his head. “It was not you, Artemis. Blame the Fates if you must. Pamela and I were destined to meet.”

“Then you must take her to the Underworld and petition Hades for a resolution.”

“Thank you, my Sister . . .” Apollo's voice faded. Still clutching the glowing soul, the god moved with speed that was impossible for mortal eyes to behold between the cars and into Caesars Palace to the portal that waited there.

With heavy steps, Artemis approached Pamela's body.

“How could something so strong be contained in such a fragile shell?” The goddess looked down at her friend as tears washed her cheeks.

“My heart was right all along,” Eddie said reverently. He approached her and then, when he was beside her, he dropped to one knee. “You truly are the Goddess Artemis.”

“Yes,” she said, resting one soft hand on the author's shoulder, “but I do not feel like a goddess. I feel like a woman who has just lost a very good friend.” She drew a deep breath and let it out on a sob. “Look at her, Eddie. She is all broken.”

For a moment Eddie hesitated. Then he reached up and patted the goddess's hand reassuringly. “She isn't here, Artemis. She's with Apollo.”

“You're right. I know. It's just that . . . just that I didn't have a chance to say good-bye, or I'm sorry, or even thank you.”

“Sometimes,” Eddie said quietly, “you don't get to say those things. That's what it is to be a mortal. We can only try to live our lives with enough joy and passion that when our time is finished we leave behind more good memories than regrets.”

“I didn't understand that before, but I do now. I think there is a part of me that from here on throughout eternity will always feel a little mortal.” She smiled sadly at Pamela's body. “I think it might be the best part of me.”

On impulse, Artemis bent and grasped the coin carrying her brother's image, which still hung around Pamela's neck. With a flick of her fingers it came free and pooled in her palm. “Apollo would want me to keep this for her.” She closed her hand, and the coin disappeared. Then the goddess knelt beside her friend's body.

“What will you do?” Eddie asked.

“What I can,” Artemis said softly.

She lifted her hands, and they began to glow with the cool white light of a full moon. “Good-bye, my friend,” she murmured as she passed her luminous hands down Pamela's body—changing—rearranging—and doing what she could to make it right. When the light faded, the mortal's broken body had been replaced by the body of a beautiful young doe.

Wearily, Artemis stood. “Walk with me, Eddie. I must return and face my father.”

“Of course, my goddess.”

Tucking her arm within his, he led her carefully away from the body of the fallen doe. They had almost reached the sidewalk when Artemis suddenly stopped. Scenting the air like a creature of the forest, she turned her head and narrowed her eyes. The car was battered. The front of it caved inwards and bloodied with the clear marks of where it had hit Pamela's body. Artemis stepped closer and peered within the car. The woman frozen by Apollo's spell had both hands gripping the steering wheel. Strapped securely into her seat, she was uninjured, but her eyes were wide and filled with an unspeakable terror. Artemis drew in another deep breath.

The mortal's body reeked of liquor, and not just any liquor. Artemis' keen senses recognized the sweet scent of ambrosia mixed with lust and despair and addiction. The God of the Vine's mark was there, not clearly branded, as her bond to Pamela had been. It was more hidden, though no less binding. Artemis closed her eyes against the intensity of her anger. He would pay, she promised herself. She would see to it that Bacchus paid.

When she opened her eyes, she found Eddie watching her intently.

“You know what caused this.”

“I do,” Artemis said.

Eddie's face hardened in anger. “Make them pay, Goddess.”

“I shall, my warrior. I shall.”

Resolutely, Artemis turned to face the carnage that jealousy and spite had caused. She raised her hands. Voice magnified by her immortal power, her words shimmered throughout Las Vegas as the beautiful Huntress Goddess soothed, healed, and then destroyed the last vestiges of Bacchus' malevolent spell.

 

She dropped her hands, and pandemonium broke free around them. Shouts of “Can you believe it? It's a deer!” filled the night as people rushed into the street and the sound of an ambulance siren wailed in the distance. Through it all, Artemis simply took Eddie's arm. The two of them walked away, unseen, in a powerful bubble of immortal serenity.

“You did a kind thing, my Goddess.” Eddie patted her hand as they made their way up the sidewalk that led to the main entrance of Caesars Palace.

Artemis smiled at him. “Thank you.” Then she cocked her head, considering.

“Goddess?” the author asked.

“Eddie, I may not be able to return here. Olympus will find these events disturbing.”

“I understand that.” He hesitated and allowed his veneer of eccentric author to slip so that his heartbreak showed clearly in his eyes. “From the beginning I knew that you would not stay with me. Regardless of that, I chose to love you. I do not regret one instant of that choice. And I shall hold your memory close to my heart as long as there is breath in my body.”

“Perhaps there is a way my memory would not be all you held close to your heart,” she said slowly.

The author's eyes widened in surprise.

“Eddie, have you ever heard of a kingdom called Tulsa, Oklahoma?”

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

“HADES!” Apollo's voice shook the walls of the Lord of the Underworld's Great Hall.

The dark god rushed into his throne room with his wife close behind him.

“Apollo?” Hades almost didn't recognize his friend, which had nothing to do with his strange, blood-spattered clothing or the glowing sphere of light he clutched to his chest. It was the wild, crazed look in his eye that was so totally foreign to what he knew of the God of Light. “What has happened?”

“They killed her. The metal beasts. I couldn't stop them. I didn't get to her in time.” Breathing heavily, he spoke in short bursts.

Hades' wife moved from beside her husband. Within Persephone's immortal body, Carolina's soul shivered as she instantly understood.

“This is Pamela,” she said, gazing at the bright ball of light.

“A modern mortal's soul? You brought the soul of a modern mortal here!” Hades exclaimed.

“Of course he did,” Lina's voice was hushed. “What else could he do?”

“You must make it right! You must make her Pamela again.”

Lina's sharp eyes skewered the God of Light. “That's enough of that kind of talk. She is still Pamela, and you're probably scaring her.” She glanced back at where her husband was standing. “My love, you must welcome her.”

The Lord of the Underworld moved reluctantly. He stretched out his hand, but before he touched the light, his gaze caught Apollo's. “It is not wise to meddle with the Laws of the Universe, my friend.”

“She is my soul mate,” Apollo said.

The dark god shook his head sadly. “Then let us hope that the Fates are understanding.” He touched his palm to the glowing ball. “You are welcome in my realm, Pamela.”

The light quivered and then elongated. With a sound that was very much like a sigh, it took on form and features until Pamela was standing within the circle of Apollo's arms. Her body still carried a slight luminescence, but she had also taken on a surreal, transparent look—as if she was a half-finished watercolor of herself. With a sob, Apollo tightened his arms around her. She felt cool and too light. He was afraid if he loosened his hold on her, she would float away. She didn't move or speak.

“Pamela!” Apollo cried. “It's me. I have you. All will be well now.”

A shiver passed through her almost insubstantial body. “Apollo?”

“Yes, my sweet!” He pressed his face into her hair.

She pulled back from him, looking around in confusion. She saw that she was standing in an enormous marble room with Apollo, a beautiful young woman, and a tall, dark man. Then her gaze went down to her body, and her face went blank with shock.

“Tell me this is a dream, Apollo. Tell me that pretty soon I'll wake up,” Pamela's voice trembled.

“I can not,” he said brokenly.

“Pamela,” Lina's voice was like a warm, quiet pool. She touched the newly dead spirit lightly on her arm. “I am Carolina; you may call me Lina if you'd like. And this is my husband, Hades.”

Pamela's eyes looked huge and round in her pale face.

“Hades?” she whispered. Woodenly, she lifted her translucent hand and stared at it. “I'm dead? And now I'm in . . .” Her eyes flew back to Hades, and her mouth opened, as if she wanted to scream.

“You're in Elysia,” Lina told her with a gentle smile. She took the hand Pamela still held in front of her and wrapped it in her warmth, willing the immortal powers that rested within Persephone's body to comfort her. “Specifically, you are in our palace at the edge of the Elysian Fields. The Underworld is a very beautiful place, honey. There's nothing here you need to be afraid of.”