ELEVEN
Mars scowled into the dark. He sat on a chair in the center of a white pentagram called a “circle.” It was flashing brilliant white light against the walls of the darkened room. Hans knew his job well, no doubt. The circle was the only thing that could hold a celestial being against his will, not that Mars fought it. He knew if he talked to Psyche, convinced her of his innocence, he would be released. However, Mars was offended and hurt Psyche had turned against him so quickly, and he needed to carefully consider the turn of events.
He studied the floor under his feet, remembering the incident in the mortal’s room from only a few hours earlier. He didn’t blame the mortal. It was mere coincidence the mortal had remembered him. He knew now why he had been there, though he didn’t before. It all seemed common chance at the time. Now he knew better. Now he would wait to see what she wanted with him.
He didn’t wait much longer.
The windows behind Mars gently breezed open, the curtains fluttering. He stood, ready to greet his visitor. However, no one entered his room. A few seconds later, a pristine, beautiful voice floated through the window to him. “Have you thought about my offer?”
Mars chuckled. “Amazing you should ask. You know very well you’ve put me in this position so I have nothing to consider but your offer.”
The beautiful voice tittered. “Indeed. It worked out even better than I planned. You realize Aspen has run?”
Mars was careful to keep his face clear. He’d have to consider that one later. Another disappointment, surely. “I don’t see how that matters to me.”
“It doesn’t - except it means everyone is leaving you.”
Mars laughed outright. “You are so heavily disillusioned. Do you forget all of the Lead Arrows? My entire Temple?”
“And what good,” asked the voice, “is your kingdom if they are all drained of their blood?”
Mars took a step too close before he realized it. When his foot grazed the edge of the circle, white fire flashed, throwing him back a couple of steps. He threw his hands up in rage. “You threaten my Temple? Are your crimes not enough as it is? Do you have any idea what will become of you if anyone discovers what you are up to?”
“Oh, are you going to tell them, Mars? Are they going to believe you against a poor mortal eyewitness on her death bed? How many Golden Arrow supporters do you really have? How many of the people in this Temple would stand by you if you wanted to leave? You know as well as I do. Your fate is sealed by a series of very poor decisions. If only you’d tried a little harder to win over the affections of the Golden Arrows in your time, you wouldn’t have been locked up. They’ve only been humoring Psyche’s affection for you over the years. We both know how poorly your past decisions have reflected on your loyalty.”
Mars frowned. “I did what was needed to sustain my Temple.”
“Yes,” chuckled the voice. “At the expense of every other god in your realm. What a pity you and I both know you don’t stand a chance. However, you can take up my offer. You’d have your Temple back. You’d have the bulk of the followers of all of the Arrows.”
Mars growled at the voice. “How many other gods have agreed to this? I see Auster, at least, agreed to your terms.”
“Indeed. I must admit, I didn’t think it would take much effort to convince you. You are, after all, the god of war. This would be the war to end all wars. You’d be at the top of your game.”
Mars shook his head, turned to face the opposite wall. “You don’t know what you ask. The balance of the entire realm would be shaken by a war such as this. Temples destroyed, gods ruined.”
“And what of it? You and I both know there are no longer enough followers for all of them anyway. Mortals stopped believing in gods long ago. They lumped them all together in one “God”. No mortals ever visit the Temples, unless they are visiting some tourist attraction. When people stop praying to you, you lose your power. You and I both know I speak the truth. Do you want things to go back to what it was like during the Fall?”
Mars shook his head. He took a deep breath before turning to face the window. “You must allow me time to consider.”
“I already have.”
“Another day.”
“Very well. I give you twenty-four hours to make your decision, though we both know what it has to be. Try not to agonize over it too much. I am going to make you a powerful god again.”
The windows blew shut with a click. Moments later, the door swung open, and two Guardians entered with their swords raised. One turned on the lights as the other approached, looking warily at Mars. “Who were you speaking with?”
Mars snorted and sat on the chair in the circle as though he didn’t have a care in the world. “Do you see anyone here?”
There wasn’t much of a search to do, as the room was empty. The chair Mars sat in was the only furnishing. “I heard something.”
Mars sneered at the Guardian. “Maybe it was your conscience.”
The Guardians rolled their eyes. The Guardian that had not spoken turned and went back to his post saying, “See? I told you it was nothing.”
The door closed with a click as Mars exhaled. She was right about one thing. There was about to be a war to end all wars. The question was, what side did Mars belong on?
***
About 2,500 miles away, Aspen was getting very pissed off. She pounded on the door of the Temple again, the booms from her fist echoing against the stones of the courtyard enclosure. This was her last stop, as Seattle was the least-likely place she was going to get help. She’d already been to New York, San Antonio, Norfolk, and Washington, D.C. She was over it. If she went anywhere else, it’d have to be Rome, and she really didn’t want to go there. Surely Cupid already knew what was happening in Chicago. If she showed up, there’d be hell to pay. Besides, stirring up the Lead Arrows could lead openly to revolt, and she didn’t want to go that route.
Yet.
After the sixth knock went unanswered in half as many minutes, Aspen stomped around the side of the Temple to the chapel entrance. This door was smaller, wooden, and not nearly as glamorous as the main entrance. It was also the least likely place one would expect a visitor to enter. An “employee door”, so to speak. As such, she might get lucky. She decided to forgo knocking, and pushed the heavy lead handle. Clicking loudly, the door swung open. Bingo.
Aspen entered the room slowly, her hand on her gun as she allowed her eyes to adjust to the dimly lit room. It was just about two hours until dawn here, and there didn’t seem to be anyone up yet, but that didn’t ring true. The monks of the Temple wouldn’t have ignored a summons on the main gate, even at three in the morning. Aspen carefully and quietly tip-toed to the front of the chapel sanctuary, passing empty pew after empty pew. She passed the altar, where the offering baskets sat, empty from their last collection. The candles for prayer were lined against the heavy stone of the altar, and they were all unlit. Two of them had burned down to the bottom of the jar and had never been replaced. Aspen turned to the right of the altar, toward the rooms at the back of the Temple, where Auster’s monks would stay. The sanctuary was far too quiet, her breathing too loud. She could hear each thumping heartbeat as she moved without stirring the air. Her nostrils twitched as she skirted the pews. Reaching the vestibule doors, Aspen knocked softly on the wood before declaring herself clearly. “Temple Auster? This is Aspen Cupid, of Temple Mars. I’ve come seeking your guidance.”
After waiting several seconds, it was obvious she wasn’t going to get an answer. The room was just as silent as before. Aspen was certain now that something wasn’t right. Lowering a slightly shaking hand to the door knob, she turned it quietly as she lifted her gun with her other hand. Pushing open the door, her sense of smell sounded the alarm in her head long before she saw the blood and bodies that were strewn throughout the room. Aspen’s eyes wheeled from corner to corner, despite her mental plea to calm herself. She searched for an intruder, but all she could make out was the blood, a huge sea of it, cloaking the room. The monks of Auster were strewn about like rag dolls, their white robes covered in the dank color of dried blood. Pressing her hand to her mouth, Aspen looked over the room with watering eyes. An altar boy, hardly ten years old, lay broken over the bunk in the corner, his eyes staring blankly at the wall. Two more bodies lay a pace away, their faces frozen in the silent screams of terror. Aspen turned and vomited into the corner closest to the door, the stench too much for her stomach. She retched feebly as she placed a shaky hand on the wall to steady herself.
The one pale light from the window facing the courtyard grew dim alarmingly fast. Aspen whipped around, pointing her gun at the door. The room was dark in seconds, leaving her blind. Her breath echoed in the small room, and she willed herself to quiet the sounds of her fear. Suddenly, a huge gust swept the room, and Aspen shrieked, “Auster!” She screamed before something heavy and hard hit the side of her head, and she blacked out.