A Storm of Blood and Stone (Myths of Stone Book 3) Read online

  A Storm of Blood and Stone

  Myths of Stone Book III

  Galen Surlak-Ramsey

  A Tiny Fox Press Book

  © 2020 Galen Surlak-Ramsey

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except as provided by U.S.A. copyright law. For information address: Tiny Fox Press, North Port, FL.

  This is a work of fiction: Names, places, characters, and events are a product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, locales, or events is purely coincidental.

  Cover art by Eddy Shinjuku

  LCCN: 2020946529

  Print ISBN (Paperback): 978-1-946501-28-8

  Tiny Fox Press and the book fox logo are all registered trademarks of Tiny Fox Press LLC

  Tiny Fox Press LLC

  North Port, FL

  For Andy

  Table of Contents

  Chapter An Unwanted Meeting

  Chapter Demands

  Chapter The Prisoner

  Chapter Declaration of War

  Chapter Schemes

  Chapter The Bath

  Chapter Confessions

  Chapter The Island

  Chapter Stheno

  Chapter Whale Riding

  Chapter The Trial

  Chapter A Mother’s Love

  Chapter Confessions

  Chapter Find Her

  Chapter Hera’s Place: The Sequel

  Chapter Maps

  Chapter Eagles

  Chapter Into the Bog

  Chapter Athena and Artemis

  Chapter Achlys

  Chapter Bargains

  Chapter About That Vault

  Chapter Scrying

  Chapter From Death to Dark

  Chapter Interview with a Goddess

  Chapter At the Vault

  Chapter The Final Council

  Chapter A Choice

  Chapter To Chaos

  Chapter The Flower

  Chapter Botanical Extractions

  Chapter An Inevitable Meeting

  Chapter A Divine Conflict

  Chapter The Cost

  Chapter Fin

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  About the Publisher

  Chapter An Unwanted Meeting

  Euryale had turned a lot of people to stone over the course of her life, even a few of the gods as the Fates had seen fit, but she’d never known what it was like to be petrified herself.

  Until now, that is.

  Athena, Goddess of Wisdom (and at times, petty revenge), had called upon the gorgon not long ago to help find a missing hero of hers. For most, that wouldn’t have been a bad thing, unless, of course, one happened to have had something to do with the assaulting, drugging, and imprisoning of said hero.

  At which point being nervous would certainly be understandable.

  Or being scared witless.

  Or in Euryale’s case, being completely and utterly petrified because she’d done all that and more to Perseus only days ago.

  “Sweetie?” Alex said softly. “Sweetie, can you hear me?”

  At the sound of his voice, Euryale managed to break free of the hold fear had over her, and she looked to her husband who stood next to her throne. The subject of the conversation they’d had moments ago—the source of her abject terror—was ever-present in her mind.

  “Sorry, I…I don’t know what to do,” Euryale eked out.

  “Well, you don’t have to go see Athena right now, do you?” he asked, his dark eyes filled with worry. “Go see her tomorrow.”

  Euryale glanced around the Great Hall of Olympus to see who might catch wind of their conversation before answering. There was hardly anyone left from the celebrations. Aside from her children, Aison and Cassandra (who were entertaining themselves with a ride from their pet chimera, Tickles), only a half dozen satyrs who were still cleaning remained.

  “I can’t,” she said, shrinking in her throne and keeping her voice low. “It will only make things worse if I don’t talk to her right now.”

  Alex pressed his lips together. “Should I come with you?” he offered. “Or do you want me to check on…our guest,” he said, bobbing his head toward the doors leading outside.

  “Neither,” Euryale said. “He doesn’t need to be disturbed, and I’m hoping Athena will be less confrontational if it’s only the two of us.”

  “Are you sure?” Alex asked, his brow arching. “This could go badly. You might need the extra help.”

  “I know. And I’m sure.”

  “Have you ever negotiated something like this before?”

  Euryale laughed, hitting light notes that put them both at ease, despite the grim situation. “No, Alex,” she said. “I can honestly say I’ve never had to do this before.”

  A screech of joy from the twins interrupted the conversation, and both Euryale and Alex twisted around in time to see Tickles bowl over a couple of satyrs before bounding out a side door with Aison and Cassandra on his back, each swinging toy swords wildly in the air.

  “You’re on twin duty,” Euryale said, rising from her throne. “Go put them in line before they destroy something of Zeus’s, and we’re in even more trouble. I’m going to go talk to Athena before my nerves come back, and I talk myself out of it.”

  Alex gave her a quick smooch on the cheek. “On it,” he said. “You’ll be fine, I know it. After all, you did sort of save everyone from Typhon.”

  “Right,” Euryale said, exhaling slowly. “See you soon.”

  With that, the gorgon slithered out of the Great Hall and headed for Athena’s home in Olympus. All the while, one question burned sharply in her mind:

  How did the gods negotiate?

  The answer to that eluded her at first, but it wasn’t long before she realized she’d known the answer all along:

  They didn’t.

  Arguments were settled by spear or wit, sometimes both. Hardly ever were they settled on merit or morality, no matter who was involved. This realization soured Euryale’s gut even more, as Athena was easily a hundred times stronger and smarter than the gorgon could ever hope to be.

  As such, there was no possible way Euryale was going to win this argument, and she was likely about to meet a painful end. Still, she had to try.

  “Keep it together, Euryale,” she said to herself, using two fingers from each hand to rub her temples in a vain attempt to ward off a self-induced headache. “You’re one of them now. Act like it.”

  Euryale looked up to get a bearing of where she was, only to find herself right outside Athena’s home. She stood there shocked to no end that she’d snaked her way through half of Olympus and hadn’t realized it at all.

  A few more seconds passed with her not moving a muscle, and then whether it was due to her own willpower or simply a nudge of the Fates, she sucked in a deep breath, rolled her shoulders back, and climbed the marble stairs leading to the front door.

  She passed through the entrance without hesitation and quickly entered Athena’s courtyard that now held the recent addition of a rocky fountain set in the middle of a large pool stocked with koi fish.

  Euryale would’ve liked to stop and enjoy it for a few moments, but she knew if she paused even in the slightest, she’d lose her nerve. She traversed the courtyard in seconds and entered Athena’s west wing. There, she slipped by a few satyrs who were keeping the place tidy, and after takin
g a couple of bends in the hall, Euryale entered Athena’s planning room and came to an abrupt halt, her jaw hanging open nearly to the floor.

  The room had been turned into a half-scale replica of the forge the traitor Hephaestus had used under Mount Etna, right down to every conceivable detail Euryale could remember—and another three hundred she’d forgotten. The anvil was set up perfectly, with the exact amount of scratches and wear the original had suffered, while table and smithing tools nearby had been painstakingly recreated as well. There were even carefully painted spots on the floor where Euryale’s blood had spattered, thanks to a wicked strike to the back of the head with a hammer when Hephaestus had attacked her.

  In the very middle of it all, Athena stood quietly and in deep concentration, wearing her usual garb of leather cuirass and bronze helm. Whatever she was thinking about, she didn’t share. Athena turned toward the gorgon and flashed a warm smile. “Euryale,” she said. “You’re here.”

  “I am,” she replied. “I was told you wanted to see me about something?”

  Athena beckoned her over with a wave of the hand. “I did. Please, come here so we can talk.”

  Euryale slithered forward, trying to ignore the mounting angst in her stomach. “This is quite the setup you have.”

  “Thank you. I probably spent an extra half hour making sure that everything was perfect.”

  “You did this by memory?”

  “I did,” Athena said, beaming with pride. That pride, however, faded slightly as she made the following admission. “But I feel like I’ve missed something. Does it look right to you?”

  Euryale shrugged, although she wished she hadn’t. Given the approaching topic that was about to tear the two apart, she would’ve liked to have been able to offer some sort of insight into the current matter first. Perhaps then Athena would listen to her. “It looks right to me. But even if it isn’t, it has to be close enough.”

  Athena shook her head and scowled. “Our complacency is what led to our near downfall,” she said. “I should’ve seen our betrayal coming. We all should have.”

  “No one wants to believe their family would be the cause of so much hurt and pain,” Euryale said. “Maybe you’re being too hard on yourself.”

  “Perhaps,” Athena said. “Either way, I can’t help but feel this setup is missing details, details that could lead to vital clues.”

  “Clues to what?”

  “Clues to who else is working with Typhon,” she said. “Despite Dad’s reassurances, I’m not convinced he’s still not a danger, and if he still has spies in Olympus, we’ve got to find them before they can cause any more damage.”

  “Has Hera said anything?” Euryale asked.

  “No,” Athena said, shaking her head. “I doubt she will anytime soon, despite Dad’s interrogations.”

  “Oh,” Euryale said. “Where’s she being kept, anyway?”

  Athena burst into laughter. “Trust me, you don’t want to know,” she said when she finally regained her composure. “Dad isn’t telling anyone, and I promise you, anyone who happens to discover where he’s got her kept will be immediately branded a traitor and dealt with accordingly.”

  Euryale cringed, and the vipers atop her head recoiled in fear. “Then forget I asked.”

  “Consider it done,” she said. “But take heart, if there’s anyone who both Zeus and I trust near explicitly, it’s you. If you hadn’t been…well, you…Typhon would have already ravaged half the world by now.”

  “Thank you,” Euryale said, blushing at the praise she felt was unwarranted. Yes, she’d fought Typhon and won, but that victory was hardly won on her own, and Typhon was hardly at the height of his power when they’d fought.

  As a beat of silence settled between them, Euryale sensed she was about to be plunged into the conversation she dreaded, and with that feeling, every bit of confidence and optimism she had vanished. Worse, her internal fears turned into external expressions far too quickly for her to stop them. By the time she realized what was happening, she’d already been fumbling nervously with her hands long enough for Athena to not only take note but to say something as well.

  “What’s the matter, Euryale?” Athena asked. “You look like you’re about to stick your head in the torrents of Chaos.”

  Reflexively, Euryale put her hands behind her back, which only served to heighten her anxiety and then double it again when she saw Athena raise an eyebrow. “I…” she started but ended up halting when not a single word as a follow up seemed right. After a huge breath, she managed to spit something out. “I have to talk to someone soon, and I’m worried about it, is all.”

  Athena laughed, her face brightening with amusement. “You? Worried about talking to someone?” she said. “You’re hilarious, gorgon. What topic of conversation could you possibly be nervous about?”

  Euryale shrugged. “It could go badly. I’m praying it won’t.”

  The liveliness in Athena’s eyes and voice kept strong. “If anyone should fear it going badly, it should be the other party,” she said. “Come on, Euryale, you’re the Goddess of Stone. No one in their right mind will challenge you if, for no other reason, they don’t want to be a statue.”

  “I know.”

  “Do you?” Athena challenged, tilting her head but holding on to her grin. “I’ve got to say, if you don’t at least try and act the part, you’ll never get anywhere in your new station.”

  “I know…I know,” Euryale said, wanting to believe Athena. But no matter how hard she tried, all she could believe was disaster loomed, and all she wanted to do was race out of there as fast as her tail would carry her.

  A softer, though more serious, look grew on Athena’s face. “Honestly, Euryale, we’re friends. What insurmountable task has you so distraught? You took on Typhon, of all things. I can’t imagine there’s anything more fearsome. Well, maybe Cronus—but he’s still sleeping.”

  “A negotiation,” Euryale replied hastily. The moment those words passed her lips, she scolded herself for giving that up. Athena would want details—demand details. “I’m terrible doing such things. Not a lot of practice, you know, when you’ve been exiled for thousands of years.”

  “Alright, look,” Athena said. “I know you’ve not always seen the wisdom of my ways, but to show my appreciation for all that you’ve done for us as of late, I’ll help you out with this. Now come over here, and we’ll practice.”

  “No, I—”

  “Stop,” Athena said, beckoning her over. “I’ll have you believing in yourself before you know it. Now, get over here.”

  Euryale obeyed and probably would’ve tripped over her feet with nervousness if she’d had any.

  “Right,” Athena said, grabbing the gorgon by the shoulders and adjusting her position so that they were perfectly squared off with one another. “Tell me, who’s causing you so much angst?”

  “Why?”

  “Because I need to get my mind right and slip into the part,” Athena said, looking as if the answer should have been obvious. “I’m no Dionysus, but I’ve played a part or two before.”

  “Oh.”

  When Euryale didn’t provide any other details, Athena laughed. “Is it Dad? It is, right? He can be scary. I’ll grant you that, but I promise whatever you two need to hash out, he’s not going to care in the least.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Because he’s obsessed with finding Typhon and any other traitor in Olympus, and you are neither.”

  “I know, but…” Euryale said. She wanted to explain that that wasn’t it and get it all over with, but she couldn’t find the words to make it happen. Everything that came to mind seemed foolish and likely to only make things worse.

  “By the Fates, Euryale, you really are in a knot, aren’t you?”

  Euryale nodded. Her head swam. Nausea built in her stomach, and she hated every second of it. Her growing panic was nothing more than a not-so-subtle reminder of who she was, or rather, who she wasn’t: a real goddess.
r />   “Fine. We’ll try something else,” Athena said with a heavy sigh that cut through the gorgon’s runaway thoughts. “I won’t pretend to be Dad. You can practice on me. That should make things more palatable, yes?”

  Euryale’s eyes went wide. “What?”

  “You heard me. Give me some bad news.”

  “I—I don’t have any.”

  “Oh stop,” Athena said, waving her hand at her. “I’m going to be embarrassed for your sake if you don’t come up with something.”

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Say anything you want. Anything at all,” she said. “Tell me my hair’s a mess.”

  Euryale shrank back. “I could never. It’s lovely.”

  Athena laughed again, hard, and buried her face in her hands as she tried to recompose herself. “You’re making this impossible, gorgon,” she said. “Now, seriously, tell me something.”

  “I…”

  “Go on. Make whatever you want up,” Athena said, her voice trading its playfulness for hints of harshness.

  “But—”

  “Now!”

  “I have Perseus locked in a dungeon!” Euryale spit out faster than she could think. The gorgon froze the instant she’d finished, claws digging deep into her palms, head dipped, and snakes hiding behind her.

  “There, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Athena said as she took off her helm and set it aside before shaking out her hair.

  Euryale said not a word. She didn’t even breathe.

  Athena tilted her head. “Wait…”

  “Wait…what?”

  “You’re serious?”

  Chapter Demands

  “I’m serious,” Euryale said. Her voice wavered at first, and she hated how weak she sounded, but she quickly turned her fear into determination and righteous anger. She was a goddess, damn it, even if the entire notion of being one still felt surreal. People, Olympians, were going to respect her. More importantly, she hadn’t done a damn thing wrong when it came to Perseus.

  And perhaps most importantly, she had a demand to make, one that had come to her only a few seconds ago, and one she’d die before leaving it unfulfilled.