Warrior Rising (Goddess Summoning #6)(2)

Achilles was already blazing. She’d known it when the oracle had spoken her son’s choices, but she couldn’t help the small hope she’d nurtured. Now, like a snuffed candle, hope was extinguished.

“You must choose, my son, but take your time. Reason carefully. Remember, once your choice is made, Zeus had decreed your fate and your path will be set.”

Achilles’ grin was young and untamed. “I already know my choice, Mother!” He lifted his arms to the sky, threw back his head, and shouted his decision to Olympus as a fierce prayer to the gods. “Divine Zeus, I honor you for the choices you have given me. I choose the life of a warrior and eternal fame!” At that instant the heavens above him were split by a deafening crack of thunder and a massive lightning bolt, jagged and glowing, shot from the sky into Achilles’ body, driving the boy to his knees and filling him with a red, raw power that literally changed his visage, hardening the smooth cheeks. It seemed he actually grew, becoming taller and broader, becoming more of what he had once been. His eyes glowed with the rust color of old blood and his lips pulled back from his teeth in a feral snarl as, once again, he shouted his decision in a voice unrecognizable as his own, “I choose the life of a warrior and eternal fame!”

Tears spilled silently down Thetis’s cheeks as she watched her son choose to end his life too soon. He looked like a shining golden godling, her wonderful eaglet. Proud, beautiful, fierce and immortal.

But he wasn’t immortal. He would die in barely a breath of time. And she would watch as he blazed and burned out.

Bowing her head, Thetis sent up her own prayer to Olympus—not shouted with words, but spoken with the power of a mother’s broken heart.

“Hera, Goddess of All Mothers, take pity on me. If it is possible, let my beloved son know love and peace before he dies. Athena, Goddess of War and Wisdom, I ask with my immortal soul that though he has chosen a warrior’s life, you give Achilles the wisdom to outlive his own youthful foolishness…”

Thunder clapped through the clear Greek sky and Achilles laughed with fierce joy, not noticing the lovely peacock who suddenly appeared beside his mother. The bird stretched out its royal neck to lay its sapphire head against the sea goddess’s thigh. Then, on the other side of her, a magnificent owl appeared, ethereal in its white feathers. The owl’s wise gaze met hers, and it regally bowed its head to Thetis. Then both divine birds disappeared in a glittering of diamond dust.

THIRTEEN YEARS LATER

MOUNT OLYMPUS

“I have to tell you darlings, the Trojan War is making my ass hurt,” Venus said, glancing at Athena with one perfectly raised brow.

“I don’t know why you’re looking at me like that,” Athena bristled.

“Athena, my friend, it could have something to do with the fact that you are Goddess of War,” Hera said.

“Add to that your obsession with Odysseus and his safety, which doesn’t help matters over there in Troy,” Venus said. Then she lifted her empty goblet and called, “I’m out of ambrosia!” Instantly a satyr galloped in with a glistening pitcher of the golden wine of the gods. Venus blew two kisses at the very male, very enthusiastic beast who wriggled appreciatively at the goddess’s attention, bowed low, nuzzled her feet and then trotted reluctantly from the room.

“You spoil those creatures,” Athena said, frowning after the satyr. “And you’re the one who instigated Odysseus’s affection for me, remember?” The gray-eyed goddess tossed her golden hair. “So our relationship is really your fault.”

“If you weren’t so uptight maybe you would have a relationship instead of decades of sexual frustration and obsession,” Venus mumbled.

“What was that?” Athena asked, narrowing her eyes.

“I’m just saying—”

“That the Trojan War has become entirely too tiresome,” Hera interrupted neatly. “I’m especially disgusted by the new rumors. It was bad enough that Agamemnon and Menelaus blamed poor Helen for starting the war when it was their greed for the riches of Troy and their overblown male pride that was really responsible.”

Athena gave Venus a considering look. “Didn’t you have something to do with Paris’s infatuation with Helen?”

The Goddess of Love sniffed delicately. “Menelaus didn’t appreciate Helen’s beauty. The man was boorish and inconsiderate. All I did was create a little love spell to make the dolt jealous. I had no idea Paris would be so susceptible and Helen would be so needy.”

“Whatever the cause,” Hera said, “it is silly that the Greeks are blaming an entire war on one straying wife and the man who stole her away.”

“Man? Paris is little more than a lust-filled boy, which is exactly why I didn’t think my tiny, inconsequential spell would create such a problem.”

“As ridiculous as one woman causing an entire war, that rumor is nothing compared to what they’re saying now. Have you heard that the Trojans have proclaimed that the three of us instigated the entire Helen/Paris debacle? And I don’t mean a simple jealousy spell that got out of hand,” Venus said.

“Not that apple thing again? I heard that outlandish story months ago. I can’t believe it’s caught on and is being repeated,” Athena said.

“As if the three of us would actually participate in a beauty contest!” Hera scoffed.