The Beloved of the God of War

1 - The Aloadae

So this was Hermes.

He looked just as I thought he would. Young, slender, fair-haired, and bearing an impish countenance perpetually at ease: he lay on his back in the tall grass with a flat rock under his head and its soft blond curls. A stream burbled noisily nearby.

He said nothing, even though he had to know I stood just a few feet away. I hadn’t concealed my approach, and for good reason. The gods weren't what they once were, but even in these strange times, it was never a good idea to surprise them, still.

Especially not one as unpredictable as Hermes.

“Lord Shepherd,” I said, addressing him carefully by the title one of the farmers had told me he especially favored. I hoped he was right. The words felt strange in my mouth, a dusty vestige of ancient days long past. I sounded like a character in a fable instead of a modern-day denizen.

But that was how it was now, how it had been ever since the Old World began to bleed into ours three years ago.

“Hm. You’ve been talking to the locals, it sounds like." Hermes drew up his legs and crossed one over the other. His eyes were still closed. “You’re lucky I’m in a good mood. That’s enough to butter me up for a favor, I suppose. What is it you want? I’ll grant you a boon, like in the old days. Maybe two since you’re cute.” He cracked open one cloud-blue eye and gave me a slow smile.

I licked my lips. They felt dry suddenly, chapped by some unfelt wind. “The...New York Bluffs. Please.”

The state of New York used to house nearly twenty million people. Now it was full of jagged, torn earth where the entire coastline had dropped into the sea. Further inland was nothing but deep and treacherous gorges, home to collapsed skyscrapers and vile creatures that used to live only in the imaginations of men.

And two particular giants, of course, which was why I was here in the first place.

“The New York Bluffs,” Hermes repeated. Both of his eyes were open now, peering at me with a piercing interest that made my toes curl inside my sneakers. “What about them?”

“At the foot of the bluffs, there’s an urn. Only a god can open it.” I paused when I saw his eyes narrow, but I swallowed hard and forced the rest of my practiced speech off my numb tongue. “But there are two giants guarding it.”

Suddenly, Hermes sat up, and I had to steel myself to stop from backing away. I could feel his aura rising, waking. It pressed against me like a wall.

“Yes, I know of them, the Aloadae. They’re quite impressive.” He scratched his chin with his fingers as he scrutinized me for a moment. “So,” he said finally. “You want what’s inside, is that it? Treasures beyond mortal ken?” He gave me another smile, but this one was razor-sharp and cold. I couldn’t tell if he was angry or excited.

“No.” I licked my lips again before continuing. “I think...what’s inside is...of more interest to you than to me.”

He c****d his head. “I don’t like it when the mortals do the riddling,” he said, and I tensed at the warning undercurrent buried in his smooth voice. “Speak straight, or I’ll have your tongue.”

I almost choked. “It’s - Ares has been missing for a long time, hasn’t he?” I asked quickly, almost stumbling over my words in my haste. Through some miracle, I stopped just short of actually stammering. “I’ve been told a year or so.”

There was a strange look on his face now. He was starting to understand, maybe, but that didn’t mean he would trust me. My heart thrummed like the wings of a hummingbird in my chest as I waited for his reply. 

“Yes,” he said. “Exactly thirteen months today, a lunar year.”

I took a deep breath.

"Ares is in the jar. The Aloadae have him.”