"He was your nephew," Apollymi spat.
"I know and I'm sorry."
Not as sorry as she was going to be.
Apollymi curled her lip. "So am I. I'm sorry I ever trusted you with the one thing you knew I loved above all others. You ungrateful bitch. I hope your actions haunt you into eternity." Apollymi blasted her sister.
And yet she was unappeased. Even with all of them dead and gone . . .
The hole inside her was still there and it hurt so much that all she could do was scream. She screamed until her throat was raw. Throwing her arms out, she splintered the hall until there was nothing left but rubble. Nothing left but her memories of her hope for a son now dead.
Still it hurt.
Apollymi wiped the tears from her face as she stood, looking at what she'd done. There was no satisfaction to be felt.
There was only justice to be done.
"One down . . ."
She turned then and headed to the island kingdom Archon had created for her.
Atlantis.
Those poor fools had thought to strike out at Apollo by killing his son and mistress. Today they were cowering in fear of being discovered by him and punished for their actions. But it wasn't the Greek god who wanted them dead.
It was she. Their patroness.
It would be by her hand and for the acts they'd committed against her son that they would suffer and die.
No mercy. It was what they'd given Apostolos and it was what she'd return to them.
With one swipe of her arm, she sank the entire island into the sea and listened to the beauty of their terrified screams and pleas for clemency and deliverance as the elements struck and ended their putrid lives. It was the sweetest music she'd ever heard. Let them beg . . .
If only Apostolos and Xiamara could be here.
Wincing in pain, she pushed her grief aside as she struck out on their behalf.
The last of the island kingdom faded into the sea just as the sun was setting. Apollymi turned then and looked to the land of Greece.
They were the last to suffer. Not just the humans who'd hurt her child, but those fucking gods who thought they were so smart and smug.
Most of all, Archon's bastard daughters would pay. They thought themselves safe on Olympus under the care of their mother. But the three Fates were nothing in comparison to the daughter of Chaos.
To the mother of absolute destruction.
Their dying screams would be the ones she'd relish most.
June 25, 9527 BC
Mount Olympus
Small and thin in stature with dark hair and eyes, Hermes flew through the hall of Zeus until he stood before his father who only looked a few years older than he. Hermes wasn't sure what was going on, but most of the gods were gathered here and lounging about.
They ignored Hermes until he spoke. "You know the saying, don't kill the messenger? Hold that thought, really, really close to your hearts."
Zeus scowled at him as he stood up from the chair where he'd been playing chess with Poseidon. Dressed in a flowing white robe, Zeus had short blond hair and vividly blue eyes. "What's going on?"
Hermes gestured toward the wall of windows that looked down onto the human realm. "Have any of you taken a look out at Greece in the last, say, hour or so?"
Artemis held her breath as a bad feeling went through her while she sat at a banquet table across from Aphrodite, Athena and Apollo.
Apollo rolled his eyes and waved his hand in arrogant dismissal. "What? Are they reacting to the fact I cursed the Apollites?"
Hermes shook his head in a gesture of sarcastic denial. "I don't think that bothers them nearly as much as the fact that the island of Atlantis is now gone and the Atlantean goddess Apollymi is cutting a swathe through our country, laying waste to everyone and everything she comes into contact with." Hermes gave Apollo a smug look. "And in case you're curious, she's headed straight for us. I could be really wrong here, but I'm guessing the woman's extremely pissed."
Artemis shrank back at those words.
Zeus turned on Apollo. "What have you done?"
All arrogance now gone, Apollo blanched as fear tinted his eyes. "I cursed my people, not hers. I didn't do anything to the Atlanteans, Papa. Unless their blood was mixed with my Apollites, they were unharmed by my curse. This is not my fault."
Her stomach drawing tight, Artemis covered her mouth as she realized what pantheon Acheron must have belonged to. Terrified of what she and Apollo had set in motion, she left the hall where the gods prepared for war and went to her temple so that she could think without their angry shouts in her ears.
"What can I do?"