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“Who—” I started but Dad’s low guttural growl cut me off.
I have never heard him make such an animal-like noise. To say it put the fear of the gods in me would be an understatement.
Across the clearing, the god snaps his head back in the direction of the pomegranate tree. Air leaves our lungs. Blue eyes remind me of the sky, his hair as pale as lightning.
This is bad.
This is so bad.
Those eyes bore into our souls, like he can peer into every fiber of our being. My body shakes. Please, please don’t see us. Throwing a hood as dark as charcoal over his face, he stormed toward us. Our surroundings feel like the clearing is in the middle of an electric storm. Small sparks seem to randomly snap from leaves and the tips of the stranger’s fingers, yet oddly Dad and I aren’t touched by the sudden static in the air.
Dad steps in front of me, blocking me entirely from the god’s view.
“Pan,” faintly he whispers. “Do not make a sound. Do not move a muscle. Do not fight no matter what happens to me. He'll not be able to see you if you follow my orders.”
Frozen in place, I can’t even huff out a short reply.
Is this Apollo?
Gods, he is far more terrifying than I expected. Older than I imagined.
Shoving me flush against the tree, my father presses me behind him as I gasp for breath. “Dad, we need to run.” Pinned between the tree and him, I tried to squirm out from my trapped position.
“There’s no running.” He grits. “Take your elixir. Every morning on the dot. But for now, not a single word. He'll find you if you don’t listen,” Gripping his fists into tight pale balls as a metallic scent spread across the clearing.
A claustrophobic sensation floods through the air, the entire area reeking of iron.
Someone was coming. Something was wrong.
This was never how it was supposed to be. We were supposed to get in and leave. Check the traps and go home with our arms full of food.
Tonight we were going to have full bellies and a happy family. Two events which hardly, if ever happen.
Pushing myself on to my tiptoes, I peer over his shoulder at the god approaching us. Territorially he sprang forward, my eyes are hardly able to track his rapid pace through the forest. The same forest that we were forced to cross slowly, lest we risk shattering an ankle.
Those eyes were anything but friendly. I suddenly wanted nothing more than to crumble to the ground.
But he looked normal. Like any other person that I walk past on the street.
Dad reaches his shaking hand out and squeezes my hand before releasing it.
Trying to silently comfort me in an uncomfortable situation.
The stranger’s eyes are full of venom. Especially the closer that he gets to us. Now only feet away.
Holding my breath, I watch with my vision locked on the god.
“Prometheus,” rasps the low voice of the god is even more unnerving than I imagined. This must be a misunderstanding. “You took something from me, my old friend.”
Prometheus?
Who the heck is that?
My dad would never be his friend. If he’d recognized him, Dad wouldn’t be acting like this. This must be a case for mistaken identity.
Maybe he'll let’s go once we get this all cleared up. The god’s face is shrouded by shadows but those darkness filled eyes will haunt me for the rest of my days. “What a lovely surprise. I hadn’t expected to see you in these woods at such an hour. It has been a long time.”
“Not long enough by my book,” the dark and low voice of Dad warns the god.
