“No!” he screamed, the words bubbling up and out with his permission. He pawed at the ground, frantically digging his nails into the soil to gain traction against the evil pulling him backward. But, when he saw his hands, a moment of confusion cost him the effort.
They were small and feminine, painted with scars thin and thick, pale against the moonlight. The fingertips were bleeding, torn raw and nails missing.
Lytta, he thought. He was in Lytta’s body. This was her dream. But why had she thrown him into her nightmare?
“Oh, my sweet Pandora,” a deep voice rumbled behind him, her name a lilting accent. “Why must you run from me every time?”
Brooks didn’t know why, but the voice induced a new surge of panic inside this unfamiliar body.
“Every year you hide from me. You run from me. You fight me. Why? Why put yourself through so much pain, when I am inevitable?”
His temper flared at the bold statement.
“You are nothing but a waste of space,” she spat, a deeper voice mingling with hers giving it an inhuman quality. The deeper voice flared an ember of recognition inside. “You are a fucking monster and you do not deserve the air you breathe!” The baritone took over her voice, and Brooks heard the steps falter.
The tension on his ankle eased as Brooks fought against the vines. They withered and fell as he stood and faced the darkness behind him.
“Do you know where we are,” she emphasized, “Zeus?”
An arc of lighting lit up the night sky and illuminated a golden-haired warrior. He was broad and dressed in finery, not a single hair out of place. His brown eyes lit to a familiar ocher, a color Brooks had seen flash through Lytta’s eyes when her temper rose.
It’s the sickness, her voice filtered through his thoughts as her body continued to speak in the dream.
“We are in a holy place,” her voice raised and carried across the storm. “A place where our ancestors worshiped the most ancient of our kind.”
A flicker of surprise crossed Zeus’ face, but he was quick to squash it. Zeus flicked his wrist, rage simmering below his stoic facade. When nothing happened, he looked to the offending appendage and tried again, emotions warring when nothing happened.
Lytta laughed as she walked toward a monument of marble ruins. Steps led to a broken dais, and atop the dais was a single fixed stack of stones.
No, not broken stones. A well, he realized as they got closer.
“Do you know why your vines do not work here? Why you can’t call forth your magic?” Her voice was confident and haughty.
“It’s because, dear Zeus, this is where our ancestors worshiped him.” He didn’t need his stolen body to turn to know that a look of surprise washed across Zeus’ face. He could feel it through her.
She made the ascent toward the well and, when she reached the top of the dais, she stopped to turn.
“I have to give credit where it is due. You did a fair job wiping his memory from the world. You planted seeds of lies mixed with truths to make sure your tracks were well hidden. Tartarus, the great being who sired the Titans, falling to rest and creating a space to hold all those who commit bad deeds. Or, is it just a space to hold those who threaten you and the lies you’ve built your crown of lightning upon?”
“Pandora!” Zeus screamed. “Get down—“
“And what about Gaea? She birthed her mate, Uranus only to plot against you? To set into motion the downfall of the Olympians? But what about him, Zeus? What did you tell the Olympians about the void?”
“You ungrateful bitch!” Spittle flew through the air as his rage grew. Though he was angry, Zeus couldn’t seem to move forward to stop her from getting close to the dais. Something glued him in place.
Fear, Lytta whispered, narrating the scene for him.
“I knew something was different. Why would the great Zeus need to siphon off power into an immortal of his own creation?” She mused. “Surely, if it were his own power, he would be able to house it. But there was something unstable about it. Something that you couldn’t control. It was too great for you to contain.”
The look in his eyes was pure loathing, his hatred so palpable in the air it caused the hair on Lytta’s body to stand on end.
“So I started to do some digging and even made an ally. I had an immortal lifetime to contemplate, after all.”
“After all I’ve given you, you use it to plot against me?” Zeus spat on the ground in Lytta’s direction.
Anger flared in their shared body, the edge of madness creeping in. Lytta forced a breath to reel it in. She knew that if she didn’t play her cards correctly, it was all for nothing. Zeus would destroy this place and she would never have this chance again.
“You have given me an eternity of rage, torture, and suffering! I am rotting from the inside out, and you do nothing but take from me!” She screamed, emphasizing the open wounds in her soul.
