The Haunting of Guaritori Diolco, Part 14
A Case of Mistaken Identity
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“How can Prometheus be missing?” asked Hecate. “Is it not more likely that he wishes to be alone? Perhaps he remains more upset about your ancient quarrel than he lets on.”
“That ended three thousand years ago,” said Heracles. “Zeus gave me permission to free Prometheus during the time when I was still a mortal.”
If I recalled correctly, Zeus had sent an eagle to eat Prometheus’s liver every day during the titan’s imprisonment. I could see how something like that might be hard to forget, but it seemed prudent not to comment.
“Even if he wished to be alone, he could not hide very long from me on this plane,” said Zeus. “And he cannot leave it anymore than the rest of us can. If he had been summoned by a human, his body would still remain here, and that would also be relatively easy to find. Yet I have searched for some time without finding him.”
I managed to keep from scowling, but only with great effort. To be so close to getting my situation sorted out—and then to be denied again! I felt as if my heart were sinking back into the depths of the Underworld.
“Hephaestus helped create Pandora’s body,” said Persephone.
“True,” replied Hermes. “But that was in a situation in which he was starting from scratch with a whole new being. Hephaestus is an excellent craftsman, but he has never duplicated an existing human body in the way that we need.
“If the match isn’t good enough, we will never be able to properly connect Garth’s soul to it. Unless we find a new home for Garth, I cannot reunite my magic without killing him. If it is not reunited, it may be that I will just die over and over, no matter how many times I am restored to my body.”
“What about a temporary home for Garth’s soul?” asked Hecate. “Even one of Hephaestus’s automatons might be suitable for that. We could get you restored and then create a better body for Garth later on.”
My heart skipped a beat or six. Following Hecate’s suggestion would mean letting Hermes reabsorb the magic he had put in my body—which might well kill it. Then I’d be stuck as a robot until I hit the top of the former gods’ to-do-list. That could easily be right around the twelfth of never, just like in the song.
I felt Zeus’s eyes on me again. His look was hopeful—but with just a touch of menace. For a moment, I felt his grief as keenly as a knife slicing into my own flesh. I couldn’t say yes. But how would he react if I said no?
As my blood filled with adrenaline, I felt a growing urge to start running and not stop until I was far from Olympus. But from within, I felt the warmth of Hermes giving me the psychic equivalent of a hug.
“I shall not allow that to happen,” he said.
“There are too many risks in such a process,” he told the group. “We are working in unknown territory. It may take us some time to work out the best method—but we must take that time.”
During the uncomfortable pause that followed Hermes’s declaration, Zeus’s eyes looked at me, sparkling with tears and lightning at the same time as grief warred with rage within him. But he said nothing.
“If Prometheus holds the key to solving this problem, then our first priority must be finding him,” said Hades, his voice betraying no emotion. “Zeus, your perceptions are incredibly acute, yet you are no more omniscient than any of us. You would be most likely to perceive Prometheus if he was in the sky or able to be seen from the sky. That you cannot find him tells me he must be under the ground or under the sea.”
“But if he were in the Underworld, we would certainly have noticed,” said Persephone. “I think we can rule out that possibility.”
“I have asked Gaia, and she says Prometheus is not within her depths,” said Zeus. “But I didn’t ask Poseidon about the sea, for Prometheus has never before hidden there. Poseidon would be able to probe any region navigated by men. Oceanus would know about any hidden depths in the furthest reaches of the ocean.”
“Then I would suggest you question both,” said Hecate. “Prometheus must be somewhere on this plane. But we may have to rule out many possible places before we can find the right one.”
“That is wise counsel,” said Zeus. He looked down at Hermes’s still body for a moment, his eyes glistening with unshed tears, though they no longer sparkled with lightning. “I would normally send Hermes on such an errand, but. . .I cannot. I will send Iris instead. Iris, come here!”
Though Zeus had not shouted, his words echoed throughout the palace. In only a moment, the swift-footed goddess that he had summoned appeared in the throne room.
I couldn’t help being struck by her beauty, which, like that of most goddesses, far exceeded mortal norms. In this case, though, her golden wings were the feature that compelled the most immediate attention. It was said that they were similar to that of Love himself, and I could not take my eyes from her sparkling feathers.
“Yes, my king,” she said as soon as she had finished bowing. “How may I serve you?”
Zeus took a moment to explain to Iris what he needed. While he did so, I continued to stare, unable to help myself. As I contemplated her beauty, I noticed a slight blur around her. Was it just a trick of the light? No, there was definitely a little imperfection, just the sort of visual artifact that might be caused by an illusion.
Otherwise, though the illusion—if that was truly what it was—was flawless. I couldn’t see even a hint of what lay beneath. Perhaps the former gods could see more.
Finally, I pulled my eyes away from Iris and looked at the others. Zeus was looking in Iris’s general direction but not really at her. His eyes kept shifting to Hermes’s body. He knew what he needed to do as king, but grief over Hermes was throwing him off his game. Even now, when he knew Hermes’s soul had not been lost, he was still distracted.
Nobody else was really looking at Iris, either. Hades’s focus was down, as if he were looking all the way through Olympus to deep beneath the ground, where his own kingdom lay. Persephone’s focus was the courtyard’s garden. At least, that was the direction she was looking. Hecate was staring off into space, perhaps working out a spell to find Prometheus if all else failed.
“Hermes, are you seeing what I am?”
“There is something different about Iris,” said Hermes.
“Illusion?”
“I think a shapeshift is more likely. Standing this close, I would be able to get hints of what lay beneath if it were just an illusion. All of us can change our forms, and a shapeshift, by its very nature, can’t be seen through. But someone with strong magical vision may spot an infinitesimal fluidity in the form of a shifter when it is not the shifter’s original shape or very close to it. That’s what you’re seeing.”
Hermes said no more, but I knew what point he was making.
“That isn’t Iris!” I yelled.
Zeus’s eyes shifted, not to her, but to me.
“What do you mean?” he asked, his eyes sparking a little. “No imposter could reach us here—and none would dare to try.”
“It is strange that this mortal would notice such a detail, but I have changed my shape a little,” said Iris. “I have been experimenting in my spare time. I though perhaps another look might suit me better.”
“Yet you look as you always have,” said Hermes, borrowing my mouth again. “And even if you have shifted a little bit, that should not create the slight peripheral haze around you that Garth recognized before the rest of us did.”
Hecate’s eyes narrowed. “Garth and Hermes speak the truth. I don’t know why I didn’t notice earlier, but Iris has a little vagueness around the edges. She is an imposter.”
The fake Iris raced toward the door. Heracles tried to grab her, but he wasn’t fast enough. Hecate, lashing out with air magic, was faster, but the blast of air she threw at the imposter wasn’t strong enough to stop her, though it did push her a little off course. That small delay enabled Zeus to will the door closed, trapping whoever had assumed Iris’s form.
Still moving faster than most of the former gods in the room, Iris spun around, raised her hands, and conjured up a rainbow shield between herself and everyone else.
The real Iris traveled by rainbows, so her using them in other ways wouldn’t have been a shock. But this rainbow looked all too familiar to me. Its stripes were powered by the four alchemical elements, nyv, and anti-nyv.
It was the same kind of rainbow the Brotherhood used.
Recognizing the threat, Zeus, who had long been aching for a target, blasted her with lightning powerful enough to make my hair stand on end when it struck. The rainbow paled for a moment, and the imposter fell back a step. But that had to be the least spectacular result one of Zeus’s thunderbolts had ever accomplished.
“We need her alive!” yelled Hecate as Zeus braced to take another shot. Hecate hurled a considerable blast of air, water, and earth magic at the fake Iris, who resisted the blast, though her rainbow shield looked noticeably thinner.
By now, I’d pulled myself together enough to start converting anti-nyv to nyv, disrupting the rainbow further. Hades charged, striking the shield with his bident. The barrier exploded in a shower of multicolored sparks, leaving the imposter standing there, undefended.
“Surrender!” commanded Hecate, who reached out with what must have been telekinetic energy, holding the fake Iris in place.
“I surrender,” said the imposter, though her tone undercut the significance of the words. “However, my capture will do you no good.”
“Reveal your true form,” said Hecate, moving closer and gripping the fake Iris even harder.
The Iris façade vanished, replaced by a superficially similar woman, close enough in appearance to be Iris’s sister. But she was dark-haired, not golden-haired as the Iris form had been. And though her skin was pale, I could see the darkness within her as well. Shadows squirmed inside of her much as they had enveloped the outside of Iskios.
Even more striking, instead of having gold wings, the stranger had wings of pulsing shadow, defiantly visible even in bright light.
“Arke?” asked Zeus. “How can this be? You are a prisoner in Tartarus.”
“Arke is Iris’s sister,” Hermes told me. “She sided with the titans during their war with Zeus and his siblings. Zeus took away her wings and imprisoned her in Tartarus.”
I didn’t like where this was going.
“No one escapes from Tartarus,” said Hades. “The Hecatoncheires, loyal, gigantic, and hundred-armed, stand guard at the only gate. There is no other way in or out.”
“Unless Tartarus wills it otherwise,” I said.
Zeus looked at me as if I had just sprouted a second head. “Tartarus is an elder power who does not think as we do. Yes, he is more than just the pit that bears his name, but he has no interest in coming to the aid of prisoners.”
“He had no interest in fathering human children, either,” I said quietly. “Until Eriopis convinced him to be the father of Iskios—whom you now hold captive, right?”
For a second, Zeus looked as if his rage might win out over his reason. I could almost feel his itch to hurl another thunderbolt. But instead, he seemed to shrink into himself as he remembered Iskios.
Hades eyed Zeus for a moment, waiting for the king to say something. When he didn’t, the ruler of the Underworld filled the awkward gap.
“If the Brotherhood has somehow recruited Tartarus to its cause, we must prepare for all-out war. How long will it be before the titans themselves rise from the depths in an attempt to overthrow us?”
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