Page 84 of Curse the Flame

He’s back in Tartarus. I knew the instant that Hades threw the titan into the deepest pit of the Underworld himself because, at long last, my story was finally done. A portal appeared in the middle of the shopping mall where I was doing my best to convince the reincarnation of Hermes to quit his job selling shoes and work for me.

There is still balance needed. To bring all of the Twelve to our hidden realm where legends can live happily, and myths keep the magic in all the worlds alive… like collecting pieces on a chessboard, if I can bring all of the twelve main Olympians to the new Olympus, we can keep the titans imprisoned for as long as possible while I… I finally enjoy the promise given to me with immortality.

I want forever with my wife. Even after all these centuries, I’m as much Konstantinos as I am Zeus; just like how so many of us hold onto the human part of our soul. It’s that dual nature that led to this: as each incarnate grew stronger, as the old ways began to die, it was the human part of our souls that made it so that we could finally tell our own story alongside our legends.

Konstantinos fell ridiculously in love with Elisabeth Morgan, once upon a time. Hera was always promised to Zeus, but it was the two of us who did everything we could to preserve our way of life as well as keep it alive at all.

The portal appeared for me at last. Unlike those who were forced to stay in the Other to pay their price to the magic that once birthed them, as Zeus, I was free to travel between realms. I could manipulate the magic with a wave of my hand, though I’ve always preferred the idea of using a mirror after the first time my delightfully stubborn Elisabeth mentioned my tales of the olden days were as fantastical as Lewis Carroll’s imaginings where a young girl traveled to a magic world through a looking glass.

So the portal this morning… it wasn’t necessary. It was an invitation to return to the Other for good should I choose to, to return to be the king of the gods in New Olympus, as well as a sign that—finally—the magic has considered my debt repaid.

I’ve earned my forever with my álokhos at my side.

The same álokhos who is wrinkling her adorable nose as we approach the walkway that leads to the New Jersey building where I last rented the apartment on the second floor to Willow Ackerly.

To Persephone.

Ever since Artemis was reborn and I sold one particular mirror to her reincarnate, Noelle St. James, it’s lived in her old condo. Since then, I’ve used it to bring Aphrodite, Ares, and Persepone into the Other, and now that Kronos is imprisoned once more and there isn’t as much a pressing need to bolster our numbers, it’s time that Hera and Zeus… it’s time that we go home.

And what a more fitting way than by taking the mirror that changed everything?

Especially when there’s something else I must do…

Up ahead, there’s a young girl with clear dark eyes on her knees on the walkway, drawing with some chalk. A smile curves my mouth when I notice that the tree she’s drawing… it’s an olive tree.

I have a fondness for Artemis as I do all Zeus’s children, but of them all, he has one favorite daughter.

Hera scowls. It makes her no less beautiful, and I don’t say a word because—despite being predisposed to dislike any of the fruits of Zeus’s loin even though she knows I’ve been faithful to her from the day we met—she will never be cruel to a child. I give her the easy out by kissing her on the cheek and telling her I’ll meet her upstairs.

Then, once she eases around the child and starts for the stairs, I walk over to Mona Singh.

From the moment she was born, I knew she existed. I had already been tracking Artemis by then, as well as so many of the gods and goddesses, demigods, royals, and more, and she was too young to be helpful at the time. She still is. At only five years of age, she has at least two decades more to mature before the Other will need her.

And that is the second reason why I’ve come…

As I walk over to her, I smile. The door to her condominium is open, her father watching her from the confines of his air-conditioned home while the child plays outside on such a fine summer day.

I wave at Joshua Singh, the man who is my daughter’s father, and he waves back to the man he believes is just his landlord.

Then, that pleasantry done, I crouch down in front of Mona.

She looks at me with all the wisdom that comes from hosting the dormant goddess of Athena inside of her. “It’s time for you to go.”

Smart girl. “Yes.”

I reach in my pocket, pulling out a small statuette. It’s an owl I had whittled from wood especially for her. “Take this so you can remember me while I’m gone.”

“Okay,” she says simply, hugging the statuette to her chest. “And don’t be sad. My other daddy will take care of me.”

I smile warmly down at her. “I know he will.”

“And then, one day, I’ll see you again.”

Should the Other need her, she will. “Be smart,” I tell her.

She nods. “And brave.”

Yes. And brave.