The Beloved of the God of War

14 - Trouble

My entire body was still burning from the sheer mortification that assaulted me when I realized I had fallen asleep on Ares. I didn’t even remember feeling tired at all - the last thing I could recall was how deceptively peaceful everything felt. The sound of rainfall against the cave outside, the inky darkness that swam around me, even the moaning of the wind that was beginning to sound almost normal. And, of course, the heat that sank into me and warmed every empty, untouched crevice inside, like sunlight sifting through a leafy canopy after a storm. It had felt a bubble of warmth wrapped around me, pressing against my skin.

When I awoke from strange, disjointed dreams of floating on the ocean in a clay pot, it was to Ares’s insistent, displeased voice in my ear. I don’t think I’ve ever sprang to my feet so quickly before in my entire life. He didn’t seem at all impressed by my accidental athleticism though, and without another word, rose to a stand as well with the Cornucopia firmly grasped in one hand.

He led the way out with long strides, forcing me to hurry to keep pace so that I wouldn’t be left behind. When we stepped out of the cave’s shadow, I shielded my eyes to block the light that stung them after so long in the dark - it was still half-overcast following the storm, but somehow the sunlight saturated the entire fluffy cloud cover like a glowing blanket and managed to diffuse its rays that way.

I was still blinking and squinting at the sky when Ares waved me over; I had fallen a few too many steps behind for his liking. But before I even had a chance to take a single stride, he abruptly motioned for me to stop with an open palm in my direction. He turned his head to look to the side, searching for something in the nearest tree grove. He must have heard something, I thought. I scolded myself for not paying closer attention to my surroundings as he was. This was the island of a malevolent enchantress. My only defense was my alertness and nothing more.

I waited, wondering what it was that he had heard. No matter how I strained my ears, I could detect only the faint bird calls twittering overhead and the occasional breeze that whispered around us.

Suddenly, Ares swiveled his head around, this time peering in the opposite direction. I frowned - this time, I was sure I had heard nothing. Or maybe I was just listening for the wrong thing?

“She’s here.” His voice was taut and low, pitched with a rumbling timbre that made my hairs stand on end. Despite his warning, he was making me more nervous than anything else.

My eyes darted around the clearing once more, and then again: “Should I - am I supposed to say something?” I asked hesitantly, keeping my voice quiet in case he was still listening to the mysterious sound that only he could hear. I remembered well (too well!) that he had told me I would need to negotiate on his behalf, but I didn’t know the first thing about what to say or do now that the moment had arrived. And how was I supposed to communicate with someone I couldn’t even see or hear?

“You need -” Ares began to say, but a strange, guttural sound from his throat suddenly reduced his voice to a broken growl. I tore my eyes away from a large, misshapen rock whose suspiciousness I was still debating, and looked back at him instead with a frown.

“What did you say?” I asked. 

“You -”

Again, his voice dropped into a growl - but this time, there was no mistaking it. My eyes widened when I recognized the distinct sound, deep and menacing. A childhood spent living on my mother’s farm had taught me well what kind of beast made such a sound.

Hence, it was to no surprise of mine that I saw his form begin to shimmer and change shape. And with the scant, basic knowledge about Circe’s malicious tactics that I had, I knew even before he had half-transformed into a giant wolf that I ought to run.

Mindless beasts, Ares had warned me last night. I couldn’t remember much else of what he had told me, and I hadn’t thought to inquire for specificities about the downward spiral into insanity of Circe’s transformed victims. But surely, I thought, there was a possibility that some of them lost their human sensibilities immediately. And if Ares was enchanted not just in body, but also in mind, then what would stop him from tearing me apart between those gigantic jaws opening and snapping shut over and over again in desperate agitation?

I didn’t know how to help, and some instinctual urge warned me not to approach. The shimmering, translucent, green-tinted cloud that had begun to envelop Ares’s twisting, contorting form felt dangerous. I backed away, first with slow steps, and then faster when he began to snarl. I didn’t hesitate for much longer: when I saw his still-red eyes turn to land on me, I spun about and ran pell-mell toward the nearest grove of trees.

My mother taught me well that wolves could not climb. Though they rarely disturbed humans, she made sure that I knew what to do if a desperate, starving one ever menaced me on the edges of our sprawling property: with a practiced agility that I had almost forgotten I ever possessed, I scrambled my way up one of the oak trees, pulling myself up the branches until I was more than sure I was out of reach should Ares pursue me.

Or could I even call him Ares anymore? Perched between the fork of two thick branches fifteen feet above the ground, I stared down at where he prowled around the massive base of the tree. He was watching me, I thought with a shudder. I was right to run from him, I saw; if I hadn’t, there was no telling what he would have done to me by now.

“Don’t worry, darling. It was just a little joke - and to be fair, it was a little funny.”

Between the branches, I balanced my feet on the fork before twisting around to search out the melodic, feminine voice that had just spoken. I could hear it drawing closer, but I couldn’t tell from where. It was almost as if the voice was bouncing all around me, coming from several different directions at once.

“You reminded me of a squirrel, the way you just streaked for the trees like that with your little legs churning up dust behind you. Ha-ha.”

My hand clenched around one of the branches, and I forced my breathing to steady itself before I spoke. “Are you Circe?” I asked. “The enchantress?”

This time, her voice came from directly under me: “That I am. The one and only.”

I looked down at her where she stood at the base of the tree I had taken refuge in. I didn’t know how she got there without my seeing her, but that probably had something to do with how magic worked. And it wasn’t as if she was going to help me understand (nor would it help me in this situation anyhow), so there was no point in asking. Ares-the-wolf lingered behind her. He remained stock-still and continued to watch me with that eerie red gaze that was neither man nor animal, but something in between.

“Will you turn him back, please?” I asked. Even to my ears, my voice sounded ridiculously plaintive and forlorn. But maybe that was because of the height I was stranded at - I could hear my question echoing between the trees like a ghostly song.

Circe laughed, and I noticed for the first time how her visage seemed to shimmer and change with subtle variations every time she moved. It was almost like looking at a mirage as she tossed her chestnut hair over her shoulder and smiled up at me. So beautiful, I thought, but there was something about her that made it easy to believe she was every bit as dangerous as Ares had claimed. Maybe more. There was a glinting keenness in her lovely green eyes that felt like it could cut through me, and even the easy, casual way she angled her body as she stood seemed deceptive and treacherous. Maybe it was the way her trailing, forest-green robe seemed to ripple around her every few seconds like a ripple in a pond.

“Hmm, I don’t think so,” she said. “But you can come down from there now, as adorable as you look, clinging like that. Quickly, now.”

When I hesitated, she c****d her head and gave me a mischievous simper. “My neck is starting to get stiff, looking up like this.” As I watched, Circe slowly raised her hands from her hips and brought them together as if she were about to clap them. Her billowing sleeves slid back on her forearms and pooled at her elbows. “I can bring you down myself, but I feel like you wouldn’t like that quite so much.”

I hastily moved to slide back down the tree and then dropped down to the grass with a slight stumble. Though Circe was the one I knew I should be warier of, I couldn’t help the way my eyes darted to look at Ares, who was still watching me just as intently.

He was very big for a wolf, I thought. Somehow, I was far from surprised. Of course he would be.

“Please undo whatever magic this is,” I said unhappily. “We haven’t come to make trouble for you. We just need help.”

Circle tut-tutted me before patting Ares on the head. I thought I heard the beginning of a growl rise from him as she caressed his perked ears. “Well, that’s a shame.” She smiled. “Because I’ve come to make trouble for you.”