“Chosen One,” I muttered as I kicked a pebble on the cobblestone walk to the Bathhouse.
I might be the Chosen One, meant to return the Spiritlands to Zeus, but how could I do that when I had allowed my very own daughter slip from my grasp?
Pushing open the jeweled doors, I gazed inside the massive bathhouse.
It was an opulent scene straight from ancient Rome.
A massive sparkling pool heated to the perfect temperature filled the majority of the room.
Open hallways on either side, sculpted with flying buttresses, housed several smaller pools each fed from fountains flowing from the marble walls.
White marble statues of the gods lined the backlit alcoves.
The soothing bubbling sounds filled my ears as I padded across the cut granite floor, the stone cool beneath my bare feet.
It was empty but for me.
Letting my soft linen sheath drop to my ankles, I stepped out of it and into the water, wading into the largest pool wearing only my bloodstone.
My bloodstone.
I sighed. A gift and a curse, it had been given to me by my step-father Hephaestus in his attempt to seek revenge on my mother, Aphrodite, for betraying him with my father, Ares.
Zeus had donated a bit of his own blood to Hephaestus for the cause, which had resulted in the pendant possessing powerful abilities, as well as Hephaestus’ curse.
Because my memories were wiped clean in every mortal life that I had lived for the past couple of millennia, I had forgotten who I actually was and the history of my Bloodstone for a very long time. The Fates had allowed me to think that they created it instead, that it was part of their organization, the Order of the Moirae.
Just another lie in an entire life filled with them.
I sighed again.
The water was perfect, hot enough to steam, but not so hot that I couldn’t bear it.
Pulling the water back with my arms, I dropped onto my back and floated.
I imagined that the water smelled like honeysuckle and instantly the flowery scent surrounded me.
I stared up at the stone ceiling.
It was painted with an intricate mural of Zeus and Hera presiding over a royal banquet.
Everyone in the painting was happy and joyful, laughing like carefree gods should.
Aphrodite was laughing into Ares’ ear while my step-father, Hephaestus, glared at them thunderously from across the room.
Athena danced in lotus blossoms while Zeus wisely watched everything in front of him with a knowing smile, Hera’s hand lying gently on his arm.
Everyone was laughing.
Those days were gone forever unless I found them and restored them to their rightful places on Mount Olympus.
With a sigh, I ducked my head underwater and kicked across the pool to the other side.
There was nothing like the weight of the world on my shoulders to make me feel less than buoyant.
As I kicked off the opposing wall to return, the water began kicking up and growing choppy.
I planted my feet and stared at it uncertainly.
And then I froze in horror as it turned to blood.
The entire pool was full of churning blood and it spattered onto my face, dripping onto my lips.
Spinning in a circle, I screamed, but no one came.
And then the visions started.
Blood streamed down the marble walls of the bathhouse as I was surrounded by demons.
Moaning and howling, they clawed at their monstrous faces relentlessly as they wailed.
Some dragged themselves across the stone floor, their long toenails scratching as they moved.
Some hobbled toward me with broken, split legs and some watched me with glittering eyes from the edges of the room.
All around me, black and gray mist drifted from the floor to the ceiling and suddenly, through it, I saw Raquel hunched over on the other side of the room.
Pushing my way through the thick blood in the pool, I pulled myself over the stone ledge and sprang to my feet.
Slipping across the wet floor, I raced to get to my daughter.
When I was just a few steps from her, she looked up and her jade green eyes- so like mine- were panicked and filled with terror.
“Mama, I’m scared,” she whispered. “I don’t like it here.”
I reached out to grab her, but my fingers plunged through empty air.
She was gone.
I could practically smell her little girl smell in the air and I sank to the floor, my heart racing.
I squeezed my eyes closed, trying to shut out the heart-wrenching sight of my daughter’s fear.
Was it real?
Was someone sending me a vision or was I simply imagining it? If it was real, then it meant that Raquel still existed….somewhere. But she was clearly terrified.
“Harmonia!”
Cadmus’s anxious voice echoed through the room and I opened my eyes to find him striding through the doorway with a concerned expression on his handsome face.
My gaze flew around the room- everything was gone.
The demons, the blood, the howling.
The bath was once again filled with sparkling water. It was as if it had never happened.
I took a deep, shaky breath and sat up just as Cadmus reached me and pulled me into his arms.
Clutching me to him, he kissed my forehead.
“Are you alright?” he murmured.
“What is it?
I sensed your fear all the way at the palace.”
His dark eyes were filled with concern as he studied me and shakily, I relayed what had just happened.
When I was finished, he looked around uncertainly at the sparkling calm waters and soothing fountains.
“How frightening for you,” he answered softly.
“It happened,” I insisted.
“I’m not crazy, Cadmus.”
“Of course you’re not,” he soothed, stroking my back. “But you have had a lot of strain of late.
And that takes its toll on a person.”
I should have felt comforted by him, but suddenly I just felt alone.
He didn’t believe me.
My shoulders slumped and I sagged against him.
He lifted my chin with a finger.
“Harmonia, I love you more than life.
I do.
And we’ll get through this.
Do you believe me?”
Bending his head, he kissed me, gently at first and then when I responded, he grew more passionate and fiery.
Groaning, he pulled me to him and ran his hands over my naked back, trailing down to my hips.
“I’ve missed you, wife,” he murmured against my lips.
“Come back to me. Please.”
The desperation in his voice struck a chord deep within me and ignited a spark.
I pushed him backward onto the floor and dropped onto his chest, kissing him with all of the pent-up emotion that I had been holding inside.
His dark beauty caused my heart to flutter as he grinned a brilliant white smile before he raised his head to kiss a frantic trail on my neck.
The water in the pools began churning from our energy and I closed my eyes, allowing him to soothe me in the best way a husband could.
Twenty minutes later, we lay spent on the cool marble.
My cheeks were flushed and I was tired, but for the first time in three days, I felt alive.
And more like myself.
As I propped myself up on one arm to tell Cadmus that very thing, a flash of color caught my eye.
Glancing at the back wall, I froze.
Words written in blood dripped down the stone.
Oracle of the Dead.
Chapter Two
Within minutes, my parents and Hecate joined us in the bathhouse and we examined the bloody words on the wall.
“Who wrote this?” Ares demanded of Hecate.
She stared back at him with raised eyebrows.
“War god, why do you always assume that I am all-knowing simply because I am the goddess of witchcraft?”
He ignored the question.
“Do you know who wrote these words?”he demanded again impatiently.
She dropped her gaze and sighed.
“No.”
“But we know where to find this oracle,” Aphrodite interrupted grimly.
“We do?” I asked in surprise.
“Where?”
“She can be summoned in the Necramanteion.
It’s a temple ruins on the banks of the Acheron river in Greece. I know the place.”
“Well, why do we wait?” I looked at them.
“Let’s move.”
I began walking toward the door when Hecate stepped forward and grabbed my arm.
“It isn’t that easy, Chosen One,” she muttered.
“Or that smart.”
“Why?” I stared at her.
“It isn’t easy because the Oracle must be paid and the price is different for every person who seeks her.
And it isn’t smart because we have no idea who left us this message.”
“You think someone attempts to lead us into a trap?”
I could practically see the bristling hairs on Cadmus’ neck as he spoke.
His warrior’s senses were on full alert, I could tell.
“That’s the problem, Cadmus,” she answered.
“We do not know.”
“Well, then, let us find out,” I muttered impatiently.
“We should go now.”
Hecate shook her head gently.
“As I said, it is not that easy.
There are preparations to be made before we can approach the Oracle.”
“Preparations?” I was hesitant now.
My mother stepped forward, her lovely face a blank mask.
Because of her expression, I instantly knew that she was trying to hide something from me and that put me on guard.
But before I could ask anything, she spoke.
“Someone seeks the Oracle of the Dead in order to speak to those who have crossed over into death. I have no idea why we would need her counsel.”
I looked at the people surrounding me and no one was meeting my gaze.
“You think it’s about Raquel,” I whispered.
“You think she is dead, don’t you?
I saw her just a moment ago.
She was alive and she was afraid.”
Cadmus pulled me to him stoically.
“Harmonia, whatever it is about, we will face it together.
We will go, we will listen to the Oracle and then we will find our daughter.”
I gazed into his chocolate brown eyes for just a moment, blocking out everyone else in the room.
His dark hair curled slightly around the nape of his neck, his chiseled jaw strong and clenched as he appraised me.
He and everyone else here thought that I was fragile, that I might break at any moment.
That much was apparent.
And yesterday, this morning, even an hour ago, that might have been the case.
But for whatever unexplainable reason, I was stronger now.
“I’m fine,” I told him softly as I reached up to kiss him gently on the lips.
“I feel strong.
I’m ready to go. I’m sorry that I’ve been weak the past couple of days.
But I can face whatever we need to now.
I promise you.”