Skye couldn’t remember a time when she’d felt this cold before. It was as if the wind was piercing through her very skin and attacking her bones. She had a fleeting vision of her bone marrow gradually turning into ice and frozen stalactites hanging off her heart. She wasn’t going to give up though. Not without seeing Coop and trying to explain what she’d done. If she could just talk to him and beg his forgiveness, maybe everything would be alright.
She pushed away the terrifying thoughts of hypothermia and focused instead on imagining Coop’s arms around her, hugging her to his warm body and keeping her safe. Outside the wind continued to howl but the rain that had been hammering down upon her meagre shelter was starting to dissipate. Skye bit her lip. She could stay where she was, and hope the rickety roof and crumbling walls would shelter her until morning, or she could make a break for it. Falling asleep where she was could end up being a bad thing.
She remembered a story she’d heard once about a young woman making her way home from a New Year’s Eve party, who curled up to sleep in a field when she lost her way and never woke up again. Skye was determined that wasn’t going to happen to her. At least if the rain had lessened its onslaught, it would be easier to continue her hike towards Litochoro. Perhaps there she’d be able to find a cheap hostel where she could get a hot shower.
Making a decision, she pulled herself to her feet and grabbed her small bag. She was shivering uncontrollably. Shegritted her teeth and forced her stiff and protesting muscles to move out back to the road. She could do this. She had to do this. It couldn’t be much further.
The wind whipped her hair about her face, and her eyes stung. Glancing down the road and seeing nothing ahead other than darkness, she took a deep breath and shouldered her bag. If nothing else, jogging in what she hoped was the right direction would help to keep her warm. With one last quick glance at the shambling ruins of the house, she turned left and made a move.
The truth was that Skye wasn’t as far away from Litochoro as she imagined. Neither was she as alone as she had assumed. Overhead, Zephyr, the God of Wind, was making his way back to Olympus. He’d been amusing himself out on the Pacific Ocean, tweaking the trade winds here and there to cause havoc to the human sailors participating in the Transpacific Yacht Race. He was a bit of a gambler and, with a considerable amount of cash on an Australian team to win, he had decided to help his cause along. It wasn’t that he needed the money or that he really cared who won. He simply enjoyed reminding the humans who was really in charge. He’d have stayed for longer, ensuring his gamble paid off, but the breaking waves on the horizon suggested that Poseidon had caught wind, so to speak, of his antics and was on his way to interfere.
As much as he hated to admit it, Zephyr was fully aware Poseidon’s power was far greater than his own. Poseidon disliked any of the gods interfering with the humans. The pair of them had almost come to blows several years back when Zephyr had attempted to help out a small fishing boat which was in trouble off the coast of Indonesia. The results hadn’t been pretty. Zephyr still had nightmares about that day and Zeus himself had been so livid that he almost stripped both of them of their remaining powers. It was only the fact that no-one else could take on the enormity of working with Mother Nature that had saved them both.
Zephyr snorted to himself. He didn’t understand what Poseidon’s problem was. Just because he’d had that problem back in the nineteenth century, when he tried to help the Mary Celeste and it had all gone pear-shaped, didn’t mean that he should object to ever coming to the aid of humans again. The Sea God had suggested that with the advent of lighthouses, and then satellite navigational equipment, the humans no longer required his services. When Zephyr had brought up the tragedy of the Titanic as a counter-argument, Poseidon had remained markedly unamused. It was probably just as well he omitted any mention of the Bermuda Triangle, he thought ruefully. Poseidon did not enjoy being reminded of his mistakes.
Zephyr was so deep in his ruminations that he almost missed her. In fact he would have, were it not for a sudden flash of lightning which lit up the area and highlighted her figure as she jogged slowly along the road. Wheeling round, he went back for a closer look, blinking in surprise when his second glance confirmed what he thought he’d seen.
It was rare to catch a human out in this weather in this day and age. Mechanised transport meant they were normally safely wrapped inside metal shells. Zephyr occasionally wondered whether they had forgotten there was joy to be had in being outside and enjoying the power of the elements screaming around them. But to see a human woman out on her own and braving this weather reminded him that some humans were more brave – or more foolhardy – than others.
He swooped down. She was a pathetic, bedraggled figure. It seemed curious that she was so close to Olympus and unlikely that it was a coincidence that she was out here. The inhabitants of Litochoro enjoyed their creature comforts and would do what they could to avoid being outside during such a storm. And it was hardly tourist season.
Zephyr watched her for a moment or two. If he were Poseidon, he’d just sweep past her and leave her to her fate, whatever that may be. Butshe looked so small and forlorn. Zephyr grinned. This woman, whoever she was, was fortunate indeed that he had come past at this exact moment. Closing his eyes for a heartbeat, he made a few small changes to the howling atmosphere before continuing on his way.
Below him, Skye was almost at the point of collapsing when the wind suddenly did something different. It shrieked around her, practically lifting her off her feet, and then abruptly changed. Where she had been battling against it, feeling as if she were pushing through it, now it was at her back and gusting in the direction she wanted to go. Its force was so strong and so powerful, it felt as if she were flying down the small road. She was moving at twice the speed. Skye had the oddest feeling that if she stopped her legs from moving, the wind would continue to push her forwards and lift her up towards her destination. She found herself sprinting easily along the curving road until, all of a sudden, a cluster of twinkling lights finally signalled that Litochoro was just ahead.
Gasping with relief and praising her good fortune, Skye allowed the wind to carry her forward and down. The town was larger than she’d imagined but, even in the darkness of the evening, the terracotta roofs and whitewashed walls were welcoming. She could just make out the glimmer of the nearby ocean.
As soon as she passed the first buildings on the outskirts of the town, the wind faltered and began to die down. It was still bitterly cold, to the point where she wouldn’t have been surprised if it began to snow, but she had made it. Now all she had to do was find some real shelter for the night before beginning her search for Olympus the following morning.
For the first time in what felt like days, Skye smiled.
Back within the walls of Olympus, Zephyr headed through the marbled hallways. He paused when he caught sight of Coop and Hermes up ahead, debating whether to join the pair of them for a moment. The three gods often swapped stories about the humans they came across, and Zephyr was sure Coop would be interested in hearing about what he’d done that day to piss off Poseidon.
Snippets of their conversation floated over to him about the whereabouts of some girl who was no longer in Coop’s house, nor with her friends or her family. With an irascible edge to his voice, Coop was demanding Hermes work harder to find her. Hermes, in return, was saying it didn’t matter where she was, Coop wasn’t allowed to see her or talk to her. Deciding to leave them to it, a faint grin crossed Zephyr’s face. Coop was ever the ladies’ man; his latest conquest had no doubt realised this and was refusing to see him. Zephyr had heard enough of Coop’s moans on the subject of love not to want to listen to any more right now. He strolled off to seek out more good-humoured entertainment.