The Gatekeeper's Sons (The Gatekeeper's Trilogy) (38 page)

“It looks like Hades beat us here,” the god of the sea mumbled. “And Zeus’s chariot has a new ding. Wonder where that came from, and if he knows of it.”

A beautiful young man with long thick eyelashes and golden curls stepped forward to unbridle the horses.

After he had the chariot free of the animals, Poseidon said, “I’ll take them to the stables myself, Cupid. I think my prisoner would enjoy the tour.”

Cupid gave a subtle bow and disappeared.

So
that was Cupid. She wondered if Cupid knew that
she
knew he had pierced Pete’s heart.

Poseidon kept the golden net around Therese as he helped her from his chariot. She noticed the sandals on his feet had retracted so they no longer formed flippers for swimming. With the three stallions tied to leads, Poseidon led her and Riptide, Seaquake, and Crest across the golden-paved plaza, passing the center fountain, to the other building separate from the palace. It was the same size as the chariot shed and had the same type of golden doors latched open at the entry. As the god of the sea led his horses into the building, which Therese now recognized as stables, Therese caught sight of Than standing among a group of people at the back stall near two black horses.

“Therese!” Than said, rushing to her side.

She had barely time to blink from the moment she saw him, and now he was putting his arms around her with the golden fishermen’s net between them. Her hair had dried during the journey, and it curled wildly from having dried in the beating wind.
Than put his fingers through an opening in the weave to touch her hair and hold it between two fingers.

“I’m glad to see you safe,” he said softly.

Her heart warmed at the sight of him, and she longed to wrap her arms around him, but the net prevented her. She gazed into his eyes and whispered, “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too,” he whispered back. “I’m sorry it’s come to this, but I promise to protect you.”

From the direction of the black horses came another man, tall like Than, but older-looking, with the same dark hair, but eyes as black as coal, and a short beard. Like Than and the other gods, he was beautiful. He walked over to Therese with an air of authority. “So, son, I finally meet your sweetheart,” he said.

T
his was Hades, Than’s father. “How do you do?” she said.

“Better than you, apparently,” he replied.

“This wasn’t what we had in mind,” Than murmured. “She wanted to play her flute for you, feed you chocolate. This has gone all wrong.”

“Better to meet like this than not at all,” Therese said bravely.

“Oh boy, an optimist,” Hades said with sarcasm.

Th
erese’s face flushed. She could see the red color rise all the way to the tip of her nose.

“And sensitive to boot,” he spoke again.

“Dad, can you lighten up?” Than kept his arm on Therese.

The god of the
Underworld turned his attention to the god of the sea who lingered near the stall where the latter boarded his white horses. “Poseidon.”

“Hades.”

They each gave the other a civil nod.

During this exchange, Therese noticed Meg and
Tizzie standing with their prisoner in the back of the stable. The third sister was there as well. She had fire-red hair that stood up in a Mohawk, deep black eyes, and a choker of black stones around her neck. All three Furies wore tall black heeled boots and short skirts. Tizzie wore her emeralds and Meg her rubies, and their hair was down and wild. A large bird sat perched on Meg’s shoulder, and a wolf stood beside Tizzie.

The man in the middle of them she recognized as McAdams. Therese’s eyes grew wide, and hot tears flooded them as she faced the mastermind behind her parents’ death. She would kill him. She would make him pay. Though now, as she looked at him—short, thin, bald, with spectacles and wearing a suit that looked too big—he seemed terrified, pathetic, and about to pee in his pants.

“We will take the prisoner to court,” the redheaded Alecto, said, and then the Furies and their prisoner disappeared.

“Poseidon,” Than sneered his greeting.

“Thanatos.” Poseidon gave him a tired nod. “I will entrust my lovely prisoner to you for now. You cannot break the spell of the golden net, so I have no fear of losing her, especially here among so many.” And with that, Poseidon vanished.

“Don’t be mad at him,” Therese whispered. “He was kind to me.”

Than scowled. “Some kindness. Don’t you realize what he’s done?”

She shook her head. “No. Oh my God, what?”

Hades turned toward the back of the stables. “Cupid, make sure my black stallions get the same amount of oats as Poseidon and Zeus’s beasts. I won’t tolerate special treatment, understand?”

Cupid appeared in front of him and gave a slight bow. “As always.”

“I’ll see you at court,” Hades said to Than and Therese, and then he disappeared.

“So what’s Poseidon done?” Therese asked.

“Come on,” Than said. “They’re all waiting for us.”

Therese trembled with fear as they entered the golden-paved plaza and walked past the fountain to seven steps, each a different color of the rainbow, starting with red and ending with violet. Her new fears made it difficult for her to appreciate the two giant columns flanking the entryway, and, just inside, the magnificent foyer. But her eyes opened wide and she did not fail to notice as she stepped into a large rectangular assembly hall open to the clear blue sky, from which nearly solid beams of sunshine shot down to form a bright canopy above them.

Therese looked down from the sky to the white marble floor as she followed Than past Hades into the hall. Hades stood just inside with the Furies and their prisoner nearby. As Than and Therese passed them, a golden chair ascended from the floor, and Hades sat on it. It was apparently his throne. He sat opposite the long hall from two gods whom Therese presumed were Zeus and his queen, Hera.

“Should I kneel or something?” Therese asked Than, staying close beside him.

“No. I’ll introduce you to each god, one by one,” Than whispered. “Just give a subtle bow. Don’t go deep. They despise groveling.” Then Than spoke in a surprisingly loud and confident voice. “Gods and goddesses of the court, with your permission, it is my pleasure to introduce you to Therese Mills.”

Zeus gave a nod. “Please bring her before each of us, beginning with Aphrodite to your left.”

“Therese, I present you to Aphrodite, the goddess of love,” Than said.

Still wrapped in the golden fishermen’s net, Therese stood before Aphrodite and gave her a bow. The goddess of love was the most beautiful of all gathered there. Her hour-glass figure was accentuated by the white, form-fitting gown that ended just above her delicate sandaled feet. Without speaking, Therese met her crystal blue eyes and mouthed, “Thank you.” Before now, Therese hadn’t been able to properly thank the goddess for curing Clifford and leaving her the traveling robe. Aphrodite flipped her blond hair from her creamy bare shoulder and gave Therese a smile of pleasure, then dipped her head in polite greeting.

Than continued. “To Aphrodite’s left is the goddess of the woods, Artemis.”

Therese took four steps and faced the goddess on her throne. Also beautiful, her eyes and her gown were deep green, like the color of pine needles, and her brown hair was fastened into a knot on her head, a few
stray hairs caressing her neck. Therese gave her subtle bow and again mouthed, “Thank you.” Artemis bowed in return.

To Artemis’s left was a double throne, and on it sat a mother and daughter, very similar in appearance, with golden brown eyes and hair the color of corn. Their hair was long and straight, as were their gowns of pale pastels. Than introduced them as his grandmother, Demeter, goddess of the harvest, and his mother, Persephone, queen of the
Underworld.

“She’s lovely,” Persephone said.

To their left sat a red-haired, brown-eyed goddess whose gown reminded Therese of Alice in Wonderland in that it was blue with a white apron. Than introduced her as Hestia, goddess of the hearth, Zeus’s unmarried sister.

To the left of Hestia and to the right of Zeus sat gray-eyed, black-haired Athena, whom Therese immediately recognized. Therese clutched the locket at her throat, and as she had done with Aphrodite and Artemis, mouthed, “Thank you,” before she bowed to the goddess.

Zeus and Hera sat together on a double throne at the center back of the great hall, and though all the thrones were ornamental in design, theirs stood out because of the golden birds perched behind them. Behind Zeus perched a golden ruby-eyed eagle, and behind Hera three golden finches. Both gods gave their subtle bow after Therese gave hers.

Therese detected a hint of snarl in
Than’s voice as he introduced red-haired Ares, the god of war, who, along with McAdams, was responsible for her parents’ death. Ares showed no anger or emotion as he gave his bow at his introduction. He was as beautiful as the other gods and as civil and polite.

Therese recognized Hermes, who winked at her when he was introduced, producing a broad smile across her face. Her smile lingered when she faced Poseidon next, for despite the fact that he was the god
who had captured her, she would be forever grateful for the dolphin ride across the sea.

Beside Poseidon, across the hall from his twin sister Artemis, sat the most beautiful god of all the males. Than introduced him as Apollo, god of truth, of music, and of healing. He held his lyre upon his lap. His eyes were the same evergreen as his sister’s, and his hair was the same golden brown. Next to Ap
ollo, and directly across from Aphrodite, was Aphrodite’s husband, Hephaestus, the god of the forge, who appeared opposite to Apollo in every way. Whereas Apollo looked young, Hephaestus seemed old; where Apollo looked strong and erect, Hephaestus appeared bowed and misshapen. His hands were gnarled and calloused, his black hair streaked with gray, and his black eyes lined with dark circles and bags beneath them. He was the only god among them not beautiful. Therese gave her bow, and he his.

The Furies moved away from their father, pulling their prisoner to the center of the hall, so that Than and Therese could stand before Hades. Although he had already introduced them in the stables, Than formally presented her here before the other gods.

Hades gave a deeper bow than the others and surprised Therese by saying, “It is a pleasure to meet you, Therese. I speak on behalf of all the gods when I welcome you to our court. I am only sorry that it could not be under better circumstances.” He gave Therese a pleasant smile, and his coal black eyes sparkled in the sunlight.

Zeus cleared his throat. “Thank you, Hades.
Thanatos, bring the prisoner to the center of the hall beside the Furies and the other prisoner.” He then addressed the others “I believe all present are aware of the situation at hand. The Furies want to avenge the death of two souls by punishing their killer, Steven McAdams. Ares and Poseidon have captured Therese Mills in attempt to negotiate for McAdams’s release. The girl for the man. We shall first hear from Ares, then Hades, and finally, Poseidon. If other Olympians have opinions, we will hear them, but remember that only the Olympian gods may speak in a court hearing unless I say otherwise. We will then come to our decision and pronounce our judgment. Ponder this: should Hades take both, one, or neither mortal soul before us?”

Therese gasped. None of the outcomes would allow her to avenge her parents’ death and become a god. If Hades took McAdams’s soul,
Than’s deal with his father would become impossible to carry out. You can’t kill a soul. And if McAdams were granted his freedom by this court, how would she find and kill him on her own? Wouldn’t the gods have to honor the judgment of the court? Wouldn’t that mean Than and his sisters would be prohibited from helping her? She looked at Than, and he met her eyes with sympathetic understanding.

“No,” she said in her mind to all of the gods around her. “I can’t let this happen.” She clutched her golden locket and waited.

Ares stood before his throne. “I do not deny the clear discrepancy between these two prisoners. One is vile, contemptible, though he has served me well; the other, kind and good. But sometimes good people must be sacrificed for the greater good. You all know as well as I that human power must be spread through many countries, and one among them has become too strong. It is no secret that I believe the fall of the United States will set this imbalance straight. McAdams, the prisoner who was not introduced and who cowers there in the middle like a pathetic toad, must be spared the torments of hell because in his crimes he served me. To make my demands more appealing, Poseidon and I have taken as our prisoner the object of Thanatos’s desire. We will free her upon the release of McAdams and with an oath upon the river Styx to never enact that punishment upon him.” Ares returned to his throne.

Therese felt herself go limp.
Than’s hand was fast around her waist. Ares was a persuasive speaker. She felt all hope was lost. She could never become a god and spend eternity with Than if the gods agreed with Ares. She had to be permitted to avenge her parents’ death.

Hades now stood and took a few steps toward the middle of the hall. “Since when has Ares cared about the fate of his human instruments? He’s not here to protect McAdams. His real purpose is less noble. He knows that my son,
Thanatos, struck a bargain with me. I swore on the river Styx to make his sweetheart a god if she personally avenged the death of her parents. Ares fears the conflict that might ensue, the leverage he may lose among us, if the daughter of his victims were to become like him. In fact, he would rather see me take both souls now and damn McAdams to a fate worse than that of Tantalus than see Therese Mills become a god. My daughters, the Furies, have learned that this cowering toad, as Ares has so perfectly described him, has been manufacturing and selling fake medicines to humans. Think of all those other souls in my care who have died because they did not have their proper drugs. If justice is our concern today, then choose justice. I urge you all to free the girl and watch her avenge the death of her parents and the death of those not represented here today.”