With a sigh, I force myself to continue on.
I’ll come back and explore later,I promise myself.
The ancient city lies in ruins around it. Occupied by both the Greeks and Romans, there’s a mix of both societies in these ruins. Foundations of old buildings and the remnants of an amphitheater are clearly visible. Striding past it all, I head toward the other side of the ancient city. On the right, a modern museum comes into view, but I ignore it and keep walking.
Given the breadth of the ancient city, it’s usually under excavation by various archaeologists, so it didn’t take much to get a pass. In fact, there’s a small group here now. Although they’re concentrating on the ruins still buried and waiting to be discovered, not the ones already uncovered, which leaves me plenty of space to work without fear I’ll be bombarded with questions. I tip my hat and flash my badge at one of them, and they dip their head.
Roughly a half mile from Hera’s temples, I reach Athena’s. Built around 500 B.C.E. it’s in remarkable condition. Although smaller than Hera’s two, it stands slightly elevated on a hill overlooking the city, lending it a prominence that its size might lack. I walk around the structure, noting the different styles and features.
A couple of early morning tourists snap pictures nearby, but I ignore them and start partitioning off individual sections. It’s the fastest way I’ve found to search the sites in an organized manner without missing anything. For the rest of the day, I photograph and map both the interior and exterior, then come up with a plan that makes the most sense.
By the end of the day, my skin is pink, and my shoulders ache from bending over and pounding in stakes. With quick efficiency, I pack everything up and note my starting spot for themorning. As I head through the city to my vehicle, a shiver runs down my spine. I pause and scan the area around me. I don’t see anyone close by, but the feeling of being watched persists the entire way back to my vehicle.
Thankfulfor the partly cloudy day, I make significant progress the next day. By noon, I’ve completed two sections and discovered three of Hephaestus’ symbols, matching the dimensions of my hand. Hopeful, I continue into the afternoon, but as the sun drops in the sky, my efforts yield little results.
Standing in the shade, I stare at the temple, contemplating the best starting point for tomorrow. My stomach growls, reminding me I forgot to eat the granola bar I brought for lunch. It’s early, but at this point, I might as well get dinner. Packing up everything, I walk down the hill toward my vehicle.
As I pass by The Temple of Hera I, my gaze travels over the old stone, marveling at the engineering ingenuity of the people from my time. They created many of these magnificent structures, and the fact that quite a few are still standing twenty-five hundred years later is truly astounding. I shift my gaze to Hera’s second temple and stop walking. There’s a small glow coming from the interior.
I frown. Tourists aren’t allowed inside. I look around the ruins for one of the archaeological groups, but everyone seems to have left for the day. Maybe one of them left a flashlight or lantern. My stomach grumbles again, but I can’t leave without checking it out. Sighing, I slip past the metal fence surrounding the temple and climb the steps. The glow seems to be coming from farther in the interior.
A rope blocks the entrance to the main area. I climb over it and make my way to the middle. Within the naos, or center, I see two recesses that look like they might have been staircases to the roof. Interesting. I’m tempted to check them out, but the glow is just ahead between two interior rows of columns.
A shiver runs down my spine. Hurrying to the center, I look down and see the glow isn’t a flashlight. It’s the same symbol that’s on my palm. Hephaestus’ anvil and hammer.
Damn.I bite my lip. Seeing this symbol in Hera’s temple isn’t that odd. After all, Hephaestus is her son, even if she did cast him out of Olympus. But to see the tiny symbol that matches the exact dimensions of the brand on my handisodd. Add in the fact that she wasn’t represented on the first panel…and unease fills me. The gods are notorious for their spiteful games against each other.
Unfortunately, it’s a race against the clock, and I need to find the next panel. Trembling, I hold my hand over the symbol. A light immediately flows from my palm to the floor. The second the light touches it, the stone slides, revealing an opening. Blue and gold gleam inside the dark space. It’s a panel. Relief mingles with the fear skating down my spine.
I drop to my knees and search the edges of the hole for any signs of a trap, but I see nothing. No spikes. Or curses. Nothing but the rough edge of the stone. I slowly reach in and grab the panel.
Footsteps sound behind me, and I swivel around, clutching the panel to my chest. When I see who it is, my stomach drops, and I feel like I’m going to throw up. No point in standing or trying to run. I remain on my knees, bowing to the imposing figure in front of me as I silently curse a blue streak. I knew it was a fucking trap. She must have seen the symbol in Athena’s temple and recreated it here.
Queen of the Greek Gods. Hera. Zeus’ wife and the goddess who voted to send me to Hades stands before me. Tall, with dark curly hair, there’s a look of satisfaction in her cunning brown eyes and a wicked smile on her full lips. Unlike Athena or Aphrodite, Hera isn’t blindingly beautiful, but she’s terrifying and commanding, with an edge of cruelty that serves her well.
The question is…what does she want? The urge to scream clogs my throat, choking the very air I’m breathing, but I use every one of my trembling muscles to lock down my rage. Hera’s slightly unhinged and known to be vengeful. The worst thing I could do is explode.
Silence. The air fills with it, pressing against me until I feel like I’m bearing the entire weight of it on my shoulders. Sweat beads and runs from my brow to the collar of my shirt. Pain radiates across my body from holding the position I know she wants. Minutes pass.Is she going to let me up or just smite me a couple of times?
“It’s been eons since someone worshipped me,” she purrs, her voice full of amusement and a slight tinge of some darker underlying emotion. “Or had the courage to steal from me.”
I knew it.Not knowing what to say, I remain silent.
She holds out one elegant hand. “Give it to me.”
I hold it out to her. As she grasps it, I get a glimpse of the panel. It’s the fourth side, although the image on it is a golden blur.Damn it. I need that panel.The enemy has two panels—the top and one side. I have two sides and the key. We’re almost equal right now. This would have gained me the advantage.
Holding my breath, I wait as she studies it, unsure of what she’s going to say or do.
“I see,” she finally states in a quiet voice. “It doesn’t matter. Everything in this temple is mine, including this panel. Do you have anything to say before I sentence you?”
“I was wondering where my panel had gone,” another voice says, her firm voice echoing off the stones around me. “How…kind of you to find it for me.”
Hera’s eyebrow rises as she turns to face the deepening shadows. “Athena. How lovely of you to join us. Care to explain?”
Athena strides into view. Tall and stately with rich brown hair flowing down her back and over her golden armor, she flicks assessing grey eyes toward me, then turns toward Hera. “It’s the same plan we proposed to the Twelve Olympians. Remember? The one you and Zeus rejected.”
Fascinated by this turn of events, I silently watch the two fierce women lock eyes.
