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Blowing him a kiss, I watch a fire burn in his eyes.
If a whole room could take a collective inhale and zap the oxygen from a room, that would be us now. Challenging others is my second nature. Although the Throne Room is filled to the brim with subjects of the court. Maybe this will teach Apollo from pissing me off and not listening.
…Or perhaps it will do the opposite.
Apollo replies, “You're an insolent human maiden, not a goddess. Know your place.” His eyes are full of a fiery passion that sends a chill down my spine.
Opposite. Decidedly the outcome that I didn’t want.
“You act like there’s a difference,” I state as I narrow my eyes. Arms crossing over my chest.
I hear silence crawl across the Throne Room. The only audible noise is a gasp from an individual paying their community’s pizzo.
The clink of coins being sorted by Apollo’s staff members. A nose previously not audible over the buzzing of the room.
Apollo’s face grew red as he grips his goblet fiercely. Tossing his first goblet of ambrosia back.
Looking beyond irate, he motions for Ganymede to fill his goblet.
Approaching as quietly as a mouse, Ganymede filled up the glass nearly full.
Before processing what I was doing, I swiped my hand out. Not for Ganymede.
Not even for Apollo, although he deserves it.
But for the jug in Ganymede’s grasp.
The vessel of ambrosia crashed into the floor. Brown clay and amber liquid sprawl across the floor. Dribbles like quicksilver dot the flow. Balling up into those perfect little orbs.
No other liquid does that.
Looking somehow even more furious, Apollo chucks back his second glass of ambrosia.
Wordlessly, the lord hands the glass to Ganymede who looks on in horror. Apollo stands slowly as his eyes grew almost red with fury. Movements toward me like I was his prey. “Send for Athena. Tell her to collect the mortal.”
Chuckling facetiously, I figure out what’s going on with him. “You’re drunk and being stupid. Just listen to me for once.”
Apollo then turned his attention back to me. Shooting me a horrified look. “You think these silly little mortal games deter me? I'm a god. I'm the sun that crawls across the sky driven by a chariot. I'm light. I'm power. You're nothing.” Snapping his fingers, the vessel of ambrosia mends itself. The previously split ambrosia was replaced back in the vessel and in Ganymede’s hand.
Had I not known better, I would have assumed that everyone left the room. No one dared make a noise. I add, “You forgot idiot, spoiled brat, and incapable of seeing when someone is trying to save your life.”
Ducking around him, I drink the goblet that Ganymede was lightly holding back. The ambrosia burning my throat. For a moment, I wondered if I was wrong about the quicksilver.
“If you wanted a sip of ambrosia to calm your nerves, you should’ve told me you were an insolent girl.” Though his words sounded playful, they dripped with sarcasm.
Was my vision wrong?
Is this because dad built my tolerance for quicksilver?
Shooting pains ruptured from my lungs as I groaned in agony. Collapsing to my knees, Apollo grabbed ahold of me, gently setting me on my side before I even hit the ground.
Eyes full of concern as he watches me. “There are mercenaries here to kill you,” I whisper as my stomach convulses in pain. “There are five of them in the blue hoods. They snuck in weapons.”
Apollo holds me, eyes filled with concern. Whatever drunken stupor he was in, he sobered up in what felt like a split second.
“I saw them in town,” I pant. Gripping my center.
Curling in the fetal position I heard Apollo call for someone to immediately fetch Chiron. Apollo’s eyes widen as he becomes more frantic. “Athena, Artemis. Come here now.” Artemis crouches, leaning over her brother, he whispers something in her ears. Nodding, I see her grip her bow and arrows.
