The Adventures of Devcalion: The Blood Series

By Michael Lynes

The COMPLETE Blood Series - All three books plus the Prequel -  "It's in the Blood" - Book 1 "Destroyer's Blood" -  Book 2 "First Blood" and Book 3 "Time for Blood" all together in one eBook.

 

From Book 1: Blood is mightier than the Sword
Dev is a Master Thief, the son of Prometheus, and a bad-boy with a talking magic sword called Betrayer. 
Newly named the Protector of Men by his Titan father, he and Tray prefer to stay far away from Olympus and the squabbles of the Gods. That is until Hermes interrupts them as they climb up Half-Dome with an urgent summons from Zeus. 
Before he can finish, his body is torn to shreds by their Enemy. . .the DESTROYER.
Find out what happens next - read DESTROYER's Blood. . .Book 1 of The Blood Series: A Fantasy Novel by Michael Lynes
Winner - Finalist 2019 IAN Book of the Year Awards - category FANTASYSOLO Medalist - New Apple Summer EBook 2019 - Young Adult FANTASY
WINNER - Readers Favorite SILVER Medal - 2019 - Fantasy
Winner Indie B.R.A.G Medallion
Winner New Apple Literary Official Selection - FANTASY
Dev shook his head, spitting out dust and rock chips. The last rays of the setting sun stained the ground crimson. "Betrayer," he murmured, ears still ringing from the terrific explosion, "we have a problem."
The cryptic message from Olympus changes everything... One moment Devcalion and Betrayer are free, climbing up Half Dome without a care in the world, the next they are dragged into battle with the Destroyer, Zeus's ancient foe.
The Dark Power is merciless, and time is running out. It's up to Dev and Tray to try to stop him, or the world of men and gods is doomed.

Book Zero Prequel of the Blood Series - It's in the Blood

Book One of the Blood Series - Destroyer's Blood

Book Two of the Blood Series - First Blood

Book Three of the Blood Series - Time for Blood

by award-winning author - Michael Lynes

• Language: English
• Publisher: Michael Lynes
• Release date: Dec 20, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393966203

Michael Lynes

MICHAEL LYNES is the Award-Winning Author of The Blood Series. To date, the series has won the New Apply Literary, Indie BRAG Medallion, Readers Favorite for FANTASY and most recently the IAN Book of the Year Selection for Fantasy. The series begins with the novella "It's in the Blood" and continues with Destroyer's Blood. NEW release Book Two - FIRST BLOOD is due out on November 1st 2019. Book One - "Destroyer's Blood"  Reviewed By Christian Sia for Readers' Favorite Destroyer's Blood: The Adventures of Devcalion: "a gripping fantasy with strong hints of Greek mythology." Meet Devcalion, "Dev," a demigod, son of Prometheus and nephew of Zeus. He has a telepathic sword and a very close friend called Betrayer, "Tray". When we encounter Dev, he and his friend are climbing up Half Dome. An encounter with Hermes changes everything, driving Dev to the last place he wants to be -- Mt. Olympus. Dev and Tray are pulled into a war they never bargained for. With the darkest power in the universe bent on wreaking havoc, do they have any chance of surviving?  Destroyer's Blood has been awarded the Silver Medal for Fantasy in the Readers Favorite Awards for 2019 and has won an Indie B.R.A.G. Medallion for Fantasy. It also won the Solo Medalist in the New Apple Summer eBook Awards for 2019. Book Two - "First Blood" will be released in November of 2019. His short story collection, "The Fat Man Gets Out of Bed", was chosen solo Medalist Winner in the 2017 New Apple Summer Indie Book awards.  His memoir, "There Is A Reaper: Losing a Child to Cancer", was an Indie B.R.A.G. Gold Medallion Honoree , a silver-medal winner Readers’ Favorite International Book Awards for Memoir, a medalist in the New Apple Book Awards for Memoir, and a finalist in Independent Author Network Book of the Year award and the Beverly Hills Book Awards. Most recently Mr. Lynes has been a Contributing Author to the 2019 Ghostly Rites Anthology. Mr. Lynes was awarded a BSEE degree in Electrical Engineering from Stevens Institute of Technology and currently works as an embedded software engineer. He has four sons, has been married for over thirty years, and currently lives with his wife and youngest son in the beautiful secluded hills of Sussex County, New Jersey.

Book preview

Book 0 - It’s in the Blood

All in all, it was a pretty good rope; I knew it would come in handy.

Coiled in the bottom of my shoulder bag, it cushioned the gap between the six-pack of cheap beer, the strips of dried beef jerky, and the packets of fruit snacks that I’d lifted from the convenience store.  It had a nice heft and that oily-rough feeling that only well-twisted hemp will give you.  Too bad I was only going to need enough to hang a man, though, so the excess was going to go to waste—that is, unless he wouldn’t stay hanged, which with my dad was a distinct possibility. 

I was happy to have been able to get it.  In my rush to make my last minute flight, I’d forgotten to pack a good rope. 

As luck would have it, my cab route had passed a convenient Big-Box store.  I’d had my driver wait while I ran in. 

I was short on time, so of course, as soon as Lenny, the slack-jawed expert in the orange apron, had gotten over staring at my shoulder-length ponytail, black cloak, and matching keikogi, and had guided me to the proper aisle, he’d launched into his sales pitch, trying to sell me his top-of-the-line option. 

Thisun here’ll pull the butt right outta a cons-tee-pay-ted tomcat! he had opined with a gap-toothed grin.  Poly-steel core, smooth as silk, an’a lifetime gar-an-tee!

I shook my head.  This one will do.  I’d shouldered past him to get to the spool of rough-spun hemp on the discount rack.  Ignoring his disappointed look, I had grabbed the end and paid out twenty or so arm lengths, say sixty feet.  More than enough for my purpose, but I hadn’t cared to raise his suspicions.

Despite my dismissal, Lenny had remained close by, holding the more expensive bight in one hand while the other was engaged in excavating a calcified deposit from one of his cavernous ear canals.  I could almost hear the pop as he extracted a fingernail load and promptly sampled it for flavor. 

This is enough, I had said to him.  Wrap it up, and cut it right here.

Dropping the lifetime guarantee, he’d produced a battered utility knife and began sawing.  Tape it first! I had growled.  I don’t want the ends frayed by the time I make use of it.

Yessir! he’d yelped, and fumbled the tool, which slipped from his grip.  I caught it before it hit the floor, waiting as he slowly unwound tape and completed his wale.  He had half turned, still holding the sloppy job. 

I’ll be needin’ my—

My patience had reached its limit.  Too quick for the eye to follow, I drew Betrayer from her resting place at my hip.  Her diamond-honed edge had parted the three-quarter inch hemp as though it were kite string.  I’d grabbed the loose coil from Lenny’s suddenly slack grip and laid his utility knife in his nerveless palm. 

Thanks, I had said, and turned on my heel.

I PASSED THROUGH THE squeaky automatic doors and headed across the parking lot towards my waiting cab.  The late afternoon sun was at my back, the air just a tad chill.  The sky was that washed-out blue color that is the first herald of autumn.  Despite it, I felt an unreasonable lift in my spirts.  I was ready to face my father again. 

Hold up.  I’ve got this bad habit of starting my stories in the middle.  Sorry about that. 

Just so we get a few things out of the way, my name is Dev.  At least that’s what you should call me.  My birth name is a bit more grand, but only because it was given to me by a god. 

Yah, I’m one of those insane immortals.  You know, the whole Olympus-living, toga-wearing, narcissistic, heavy-drinking crowd.  What do you think you’re going to get when you combine near-unlimited power, serious moral deficits, huge egos, and hair-trigger tempers?  An ever-loving mess.  And if that wasn’t bad enough, throw in a few thousand years of serial bastardy and infidelity.  Mix well.  Believe me I know the trouble they can cause.  You should see my family tree; it practically does loop-de-loops.  All comes with the territory. 

As for my father, you might have heard of him—he’s one of the originals.  No, not the gods, I have nothing but contempt for Zeusy boy and his crew.  That guy is a textbook sociopath; his super-ego would give Freud nightmares.  My dad is above all that.  He’s a Titan!  Some might say he’s the most famous Titan in pre-history.  But enough about him.  You may worship the ground he walks on.  Me, I’ve got a score to settle with that thieving SOB.

If I was going to be honest with myself, I would also have to admit that I was still afraid of him.  All things being equal, I would have happily spent the rest of both our eternal lives staying out of his way.  But things had changed.  The crazy world-destroyer spirit that slept within all of his kind had awoken.  If I wanted to have an Earth to continue roaming around on, he’d have to be stopped. 

It had been centuries since we last confronted one another.  We had not parted on good terms.  As I recall, the last time we fought he had threatened to cast me into the Tartarus for all eternity.  That was after he’d gotten through projecting a few metric tons of granite into my chest.  He’s always been stronger and faster than me—and that was certain to still be true.  I was counting on my being able to outsmart him.  And I had one more ace up my sleeve. . .Zeus. 

Weird, I know.  As I said before, in my opinion my cousin, the so called Lord of Olympus, is a blowhard, a prissy megalomaniac with anger management issues and a My Loincloth Is Bigger Than Yours personality disorder.  Under normal circumstances, we are like oil and water, or to be more precise gelignite and blasting caps.  Nonetheless he is family, so when he reached out to me through the usual channels, I’d agreed to an unarmed parley on neutral ground. 

The news he had given me turned out to be so interesting that I’d dropped everything, packed my bags, and booked the crazy flight I was about to board.  With little to do before takeoff, I sat back and replayed our whole strange encounter in my mind. 

I APPEARED AT THE AGREED place and time.  Zeus had specified no weapons, so I’d naturally come armed to the teeth and prepared to face bear-sized three-headed dogs. 

I was pleasantly surprised to see him standing on the far edge of the Elysian Field, alone and empty-handed.

Hail, treacherous rogue! he declared without moving his faintly glowing lips.  You have no need for weapons.  I am unarmed.  He raised his chin and flashed me that hero-god smile of his that explains why his thunderbolt makes all the ladies swoon. 

I remained silent for a long moment, studying him and the surroundings, not trusting him for a splintered second.  Hey, there, cuz old pal! I drawled.  Nice of you to take some time out from twerking with the ladies and shouting at the help to meet with my skinny ass. 

So what’s up?  Nymphs not putting out?  Hermes lose a shoe again?  His brows lowered and he put the megawatt tooth-bulb away and frowned, a tiny dark cloud forming above his head.  You mock me as always, he said in a frightening undertone, using his actual lips this time.  No matter, I expected your insolence.  I wish to make you a proposition, of benefit to us both, if you will but listen.

Your dime, I replied, and waited in silent amusement as he tried to figure out what a dime might be.  His cloud darkened a bit further, its edges flickering with light.  Betrayer vibrated her sheath in warning, and I rested my hand on her hilt, willing her to be still.  The preliminaries were over and the main event was about to begin.  Unless I wanted it to be the thousand-meter Olympic lightning bolt dash, I was going to have to dial it back a bit.  Oh, great Zeus, I called, lowering my eyes, All-Father, forgive my insolence.  I crave your pardon.  I swept my midnight cloak off my shoulders, freeing my arms.  At the same time I palmed Betrayer in case things got ugly.  Pray continue.  I am all ears, I assured him, and I bowed my head, noting his reaction in Betrayer’s burnished-mirror side. 

I had nothing to worry about; he must need me badly, I concluded.  In the past, one insult from me would have been enough to cause him to fly into an electrified tantrum.  Instead, I could almost feel his relief as he observed my subservient demeanor.  His anger cloud shrank to an annoyed fog. I remained in my servile pose. 

He cleared his throat.  I am pleased by your change of heart.  His voice grew warmer, faux-friendlier.  I have not come here to battle with you in words, wits, or blows.  I wish only to bring you news that, until this moment, only I have been burdened with, but which concerns you closely.  He paused, and I raised my gaze to meet his but offered nothing.  A smile flickered across his lips, and his brows rose as he let out a god-like sigh.

"Ahhh, you so remind me of your mother, he mused.  She was one of my favorite Oceanids, pale and lovely and as nubile as any man or god could desire.  You favor her."

It was his turn now for mocking.  I gritted my teeth in suppressed rage.  Betrayer began to vibrate again, her edge licking with blue fire.  I stood still, offering no response, but something must have shown in my dark eyes.  His tone rose a half-octave, and he hurried on.  No matter, for she is long dust and fairly won by another.  It is of your disgraced father that we speak.

"What of him? I said in a flat tone.  I have not seen him in ages.  When last we met, my destruction was his only desire.  He is as nothing to me."  This last was a bald lie, but following so close upon the two previous truths, I hoped to sell it to him. 

He looked at me sidelong with his storm-eye, holding my gaze and attempting to probe my thoughts.  Betrayer began to sing a song of power, her hilt expanding into my palm and her blade beginning to lengthen.  I shot her a calming command: Not yet!

I endured his mental assault, performing a mindfulness exercise I’d learned from my sensei half a millennium ago.  I will not give him the satisfaction, I vowed, and as his attack waned I raised my head fully, a deadly grin on my face. 

My lord Zeus, Master of Olympus, are we children to play at such games?

As I spoke, I extended my arms and spread my feet into a balanced hidari gedan no-kamae stance.  I raised Betrayer, allowing her to expand to katana size, arcing blue coronas running the length of her razor sharp edge.  I am Devcalion, son of Prometheus, I went on, throwing a touch of bass god-reverb in just for the hell of it.  Kin to your sire Kronos.  Though I am no Titan, I bear the blood of one, as do you, my lord.  Let us cease this sparring and speak plainly.

His eyes widened, and the cloud regathered above him.  It was larger now, flickering with blue lightning and crackling with thunder.  A thunderbolt materialized in his empty right hand, pulsing with living destruction.  We faced each other, immortal god to immortal titan’s son, and time contracted to an eternal instant.  Betrayer’s song rose to a piercing, eldritch keen that threatened to ignite my destroyer blood.

A sudden flicker of motion to my left caught my attention.  There!  A dark shape perched in the topmost branches of a massive oak tree.  I glanced up, wary of some new assault.  Betrayer pulsed wildly in my hand, her battle song cut off abruptly, and she shrank unbidden to her normal dagger aspect, slipping from my grasp. 

I threw myself backward, rolling to my right in a desperate attempt to avoid destruction.  I came up empty-handed in a defensive nekoashi-dachi crouch, prepared to launch a counter-attack.  I figured I might as well since I was going to get lit up anyway.  I needn’t have bothered. 

Zeus was still standing at the far end of the field, as empty-handed and confused as I.  Between us seemed to lie a vast shadow.  It bisected the field and cast a veil across the sun.  I followed its outline toward the zenith.  Cold eyes glittered like a day-star in its vast raven-shaped head.

Sheesh. . .what a party pooper! I muttered, my suspicions confirmed.  And, hey! Thanks a lot for all the help! I added as I bent and retrieved Betrayer and replaced her in her sheath.  She pulsed twice in apology.

Zeus! the raven croaked, its high-pitched call echoing off the distant hills, what folly is this!  Cease this brutish mock battle!  It grew smaller, man-sized, and more solid, one yellow-rimmed eye now glaring at me. 

Do not think you shall escape my wrath, Despoiler’s son!  I know you and your kind too well.  I learned much while I rotted in the belly of my cursed Titan father.  Raise your blade again, and I shall demonstrate!

"Don’t get your perizoma in a knot, old crone, I jeered, tensing for her possible attack.  I am well aware of your charms—and your limits.  Your old man and I still have some words to exchange, and if he and you would stop wasting my time, I’d appreciate it."

Her needle-dagger eyes cut into me, and I wondered if I’d provoked her a bit further than necessary.  Suddenly she screeched, and her talons scored the earth.  Great blue-black wings sprang out and beat down, and I was blinded by a tornado of yellow dust. 

The dust cloud was torn asunder by a sudden west wind, revealing a green, flower-strewn meadow.  A large shade tree stood in its center, and three bowers of fresh-cut grass lay beside a clean slate outcrop.  A breathtaking, raven-haired beauty, clad in garments of pure white, was standing beside this impromptu table.  She gestured towards the outcrop, where three places had been set, plates piled with food, goblets brimming with wine. 

As you said, Devcalion, my old man and I both have words to speak.  Will you not recline with us as we do so?  Her smile was enchanting, and her low-cut décolletage invited an even more intimate exchange.  Her gaze grew hypnotic, and I could feel her siren projection: We’ve only to spend a few minutes humoring old Zeus, and then we can steal off, and you can partake of my Golden apples.

Bemused by the sudden shift from tormentor to temptress, I felt an unreasoning desire to succumb.  Betrayer, again on my side, pulsed in warning.  No need, I silently assured her.  I see right through the old whore’s baubles and paint.  She pulsed again and was still once more.

Thank you, Mistress Hera, I responded with a slow clap, but I’ve already eaten!  Were I hungry, though, I assure you my preference would be for lamb rather than mutton.

She stiffened, and the daggers were back, but her furious retort remained unvoiced, silenced by a mighty presence redolent of ambrosia, with undertones of unwashed goat. 

My lord Zeus, I continued, turning toward him with a mocking grin, your singular odor precedes you!

He glowered at me and turned his black glare on her.  Witch! he thundered.  Who invited you to this parley?

Fueled with the anger I had roused in her, she rounded on him, growing in stature by two feet, her hair crackling with energy. 

"How dare you! she screamed.  Why, you conceited, inconsiderate, two-timing sheep lover!  Were it not for my intercession, you idiots would be beating each other’s brains in even now!  May the Hound of Hades feast upon your bones next time!"

Throwing her arms in the air, she transformed herself once more into the enormous raven.  Backwash from her powerful wings blew back my hair and ruffled Zeus’s beard.  Her parting screech split the slate in two, spilling the drink and covering the food in dust.  Her rising silhouette merged with the sun and was soon gone.

You have a way with women, my lord, I remarked dryly. 

Well said, cousin!  Indeed I do.  He laughed aloud and shook his head.  He looked at me sidelong, a half smile still on his face.  Absent my witch—er, wife—our conversation may resume, lest ye desire to continue our bout?

I stood back a pace, gazing at him silently, weighing my options.  What the hell.  Very well, cuz, spill it.  I’d rather hear your news than suffer another tongue-lashing from the Trollop of Troy.

WE SPENT THE NEXT HOUR or so in intense discourse, and I learned much, both from what he deigned to reveal and, even more, from what he did not mention.  Cutting out all the flowery anachronisms, veiled threats, and wheedling it boiled down to three facts. 

First, according to Zeus, my father Prometheus had recently entered into his dark phase or at least was showing signs of imminent transition.  This was the bad news.

All Titans are dual-natured, with equal parts of both light and darkness.  Over the course of their immortal lives, they cycle between these two extremes.  A titan in his dark phase can be incredibly violent.  The only effective restraint is imprisonment in the well of Tartarus or containment by a superior force of other Titans.  If Prometheus became evil, Olympus, the Earth, and everything that lived upon it was within his power to destroy.  Understandably, Zeus wanted to stop him before he began his own personal Armageddon.

Second, assuming that Prometheus could be located before this dark transition was complete, Zeus had formed a plan of how he might be restrained.  He went over the whole story—the theft of Fire from Mount Olympus, the conveying of it to men on Earth, blah, blah, blah.  Once I got him to stop re-litigating that whole mess, he finally let on that the Rock to which Prometheus had been bound, high up atop Mount Kazbek, still existed, along with the chains that Heracles had broken in order to free him from his torment.  In Zeus’ opinion, the chains, forged by Hephaestus himself and quenched in his own blood, would be strong enough to imprison Prometheus once more and prevent disaster. 

Then he started angling to bring me into the picture.  Of all the gods and demi-gods, Zeus wanted to convince me that I was the key to gaining Prometheus’ trust.  Only you, Devcalion, he implored me, son of his flesh and bearer of his blood—only you can persuade him to submit to chains on the mountaintop before his insanity is unleashed.

His parting words had been emphatic, and they had stuck with me. 

As I reclined in my first-class cabin seat and closed my eyes, I could again hear his voice clearly in my mind:  The Blood of Prometheus is bound by his word alone, and by his Blood I also am bound.  He’d had an odd look in his eye as he said it.

I SAT UP, RUBBING MY eyes, and sighed aloud.  I have never been able to sleep well on flights, and this one had been no different.  As we taxied to the arrivals gate, I dug in my bag and popped a couple of painkillers. 

Pondering the situation was starting to give me a headache.  I don’t pay attention to politics.  The gods, demi-gods, Olympic-hangars-on, and the like are all one big high-school clique to me.  I’ve got no use for the lot of them.  Throwing all of Hera and Zeusy-boy’s machinations to one side, I concentrated on what I wanted to accomplish. 

I liked the way things were.  The Earth and its people had advanced a long way from primitive goat-herders killing each other over a few hectares of land.  They should be free to continue to develop and grow, independent of the meddling and petty squabbles of the gods.  I realized I was willing to fight, even against Prometheus in all of his dark might, to defend them.

It occurred to me that I was talking about defending and preserving the spirit of my dad’s original rebellion.  His gift of Olympic Fire—or technology in all of its forms—had been the spark that ignited the creative force in mankind.  I had to give him some grudging credit for that.  He and I were more alike than either of us wanted to admit. 

One thing is for sure though, I concluded as I bumped along a badly paved road in the back of yet another cab.  That philandering pretty-boy and his harpy wife are up to no good. Betrayer pulsed three times in solemn accord.

THE TERRAIN HAD BEEN growing steadily more rugged, now a steep dirt trail winding back and forth across the scree and boulder-strewn slope.  This section of the Caucasus Mountain range, dotted by tiny villages and surrounded by shepherds and their flocks, might well have looked no different a thousand years ago.  No sign of modern man and his technology was evident. 

I’d turned off my iPhone days before: no sense letting it run its power down in a vain attempt to find a cell tower.  I was living off my limited supplies and the land, not that I ever needed much to eat, and sleeping in my micro-cell ultralight flimsy.

The looming presence of Mount Kazbek grew steadily closer, its sixteen-thousand-foot summit dominating over a third of the northeastern sky.  Dormant stratovolcano, one of the major peaks in the Caucasus range, it was located in the Kazbegi district of Georgia, just south of the border with Russia.  From what I could see, its higher slopes were already heavy with ice and snow.

What was I doing in the Caucasus Mountains, you ask? Good question.  To quote the infamous Inigo Montoya, Let me esplain . . .no ees too much. . .I’mma’sum up.

After procuring the last essentials from my gap-toothed bestie Lenny, I’d come to grips with the fact that the world was big.  Though possessed of more than an average share of intelligence, fair luck, and a semi-reliable, somewhat magical blade, I could only hope to cover so much of it in the search for my soon to be darkborn-destroyer daddy-o.  As cousin Zeusy had mentioned, time was of the essence, so, in the best tradition of my saijojo-zen master, I applied the lesson of the rock. 

I’d booked a last minute one-way flight from New York to Tbilisi and then hired a car to take me out to the small mountain village of Kvesheti.  Once there I’d procured cold- weather gear and some supplies and hiked up into the Kazbegi foothills, all the while leaving telltale signs along my trail that Prometheus would surely recognize. 

I was intentionally not searching for him.  I would let him come to me. 

But, you protest, why would Prometheus come anywhere within a thousand stadia of the mountain where he had once been imprisoned and tortured?  Another good question!  You are getting pretty good at this. 

Luckily for you (and me), I have the answer.  Prometheus’ dark nature was rising, and that meant his destructive powers, base passions, and hatreds were beginning to rule his thought.  He hated me.  Ergo, ipso facto, cogito plethora sum, and other Greco-Latin nonsense, he would come to me—basically to kill me, but every plan has its downside.

Mine was to use myself as daddy-bait.  The other part of my plan was to avoid dying.

I HAD DECIDED TO MAKE my ascent of Mount Kazbek by the main trail.  It was by far the most direct route and also largely free of technically challenging sections.  One disadvantage, it was a popular climb for both locals and mountain tourists, but I figured at that time of the season I would be pretty much on my own up there.

I reached the end of the long winding dirt trail and came into sight of the Tsminda Sameba Church, hunkered down on its lonely hilltop.  According to my copy of The Guide to Summiting Mt. Kazbek, this was an enclave of Georgian Orthodox monks and had been in continual use since the fourteenth century.  From what I could see, it was a real fixer-upper, in dire need of both masonry and roof repairs.  The Guide recommended overnighting outside the church grounds to assist with altitude acclimatization. 

I’d no need to adapt myself to the rarified air.  Olympus was far loftier a summit than Kazbek, and we were only a little over two thousand meters above sea level.  I did want to rest, though.  Pressing on towards the summit, in dark and unfamiliar terrain, seemed a bad way to spend an evening. 

The sun was touching the horizon.  Vesper bells were pealing from the ancient bell tower and echoing off the distant slopes.  My arrival seemed to have attracted no untoward attention.  I continued a short way past the main buildings and pitched my flimsy in a secluded hollow, under the skeleton of a stunted mountain oak.  I soon had a small campfire going and, feet toasting by the fire, I munched the last of my borrowed beef-jerky and sipped a beer.  The sun set quickly at that altitude, and night came down like a shutter drawn cross the sky.  I lay back and relaxed as myriads of stars spread across the heavens.

A couple of hours later, the pale moon was westering and the temperature dropping rapidly.  I’d already burned through nearly all the scraps of wood I’d collected on my hike up the trail.  I tossed the last one on the fire and turned in, wrapping myself in my thermal bag against what was sure to be a sub-zero night. 

I drew Betrayer from her sheath and held her in my right hand.  Silently I ordered her to remain on high alert: Let nothing pass without warning.  She pulsed twice and extended a faintly glowing protective field that surrounded us on all sides to a distance of five meters.  I sighed, closed my eyes, and fell asleep in seconds.

I WAS SITTING ALONE, cross-legged on a bare needle of stone scarcely a pace wide in any direction.  Its sides fell away to unknown depths.  Below me was an impenetrable darkness, a lightlessness so profound that it was painful to gaze into it for more than a few seconds.  The sky above me was starless but for a single distant point of light that flickered like a candle flame.  I could hear nothing but my own heartbeat.

I raised myself and stood at the pinnacle, surrounded by that void.  I felt motion.  The pinpoint of light seemed to be moving toward me, growing steadily brighter.  My hand sought Betrayer, but she was not at my side.

The pinpoint of light grew larger, as though I were rushing toward it at great speed, till it filled all the sky, and its brilliance beat down upon me.  The blackness below remained.  It seemed to almost devour the light, bending it as a whirlpool bends the surface of a still pond. 

At first I was blinded and could not look up.  After a time my eyes adjusted, and I raised my gaze, staring into the zenith.  A form appeared in the sky, from which the light seemed to emanate.  The features were indistinguishable, but the shape of a giant spanning the heavens grew clear. 

Suddenly a great voice echoed in my head: Devcalion. . . Devcalion!

I recognized it immediately.  Hey-ho Daddy-o! I replied in a jaunty sing-song.  What’s up? I was determined not to play along with the drama. 

Devcalion, he continued, ignoring the jibe, why dost thou venture here?  What brings thee to this cursed place?

I held my silence, waiting him out.  After a long pause he seemed to grow agitated; I’d always known how to knock him off his stride.  He dropped the affectation, and his aspect grew smaller and more distinct.  I could make out his familiar features against the sun-bright background. 

He was as tall as ever, topping my height by six or seven centimeters.  His golden curls were piled atop his high-browed, aristocratic visage.  His peplos was spotless, pure-white, and draped across one golden-skinned, heavily muscled shoulder, like a Greco-Roman runway model.  That’s my old-man, a genuine classic.

He came closer, approaching my position until we were within arm’s length of each other.  I made no move to defend or attack.  I knew this apparition was just that, a projection cast into my sleeping mind.  I had in fact been expecting such a contact for the past few days.  He hovered before me at eye level, sweeping his gaze slowly from my face to my feet and back. 

Well?  Do I pass? I asked, throwing him a mocking grin. Want me to hold out my hands so you can check if I’ve washed?

A small frown was his only reaction. 

I waited, knowing that he hadn’t spent the energy to contact me without a purpose.  I also began my own surreptitious mental probe, delicately feeling out the edges and the order of the vision before me.  I hoped to place a tracer on it or possibly detect an echo of his current location.  Then he smiled, and I knew the gig was up.  Ah, my son, true subtlety still eludes thee!  Nay, I have closed all avenues of attack, and this spirit has but one true purpose. . .perhaps two.

I said nothing.

He went on, The first is accomplished.  I have found thee, and I behold thy visage.  I must say thou lookst well!  The years have brought thee maturity and improved thy mental control.

I nodded, still silent, but I allowed myself to be inwardly pleased.  His praise was still something I appreciated, and I had grown honest and balanced enough to admit it even to myself. 

The second purpose is more stern, and more serious.  His brows knitted with anger, and the light surrounding him grew more electric, shot with bands of radiance and shifting color. 

I come to give thee fair warning.  Devcalion, my son, forsake this quest!  Be gone from this place, and approach the Rock no closer.  I know thy purpose, and I shall oppose it!

I could feel the anger and the outrage he had felt when he created this avatar.  His warning was clear, and the power he possessed, even absent dark transformations, was formidable.  "The wishes of Zeus and Hera are not my wishes.  Long ago I fought by Zeus’ side ‘gainst my father Iapetus and my Titan kin, but no more.  My power is the greater!  With it I shall defeat Zeus and all who stand with him. 

"Be forewarned, my son, for even blood of my blood shall not be spared.  I wish thee no harm, Devcalion, but heed me! Turn aside from the Rock!"

As he spoke these last words his voice grew thunderous, and his image swelled till all the sky could no longer contain it.  Once again he merged into a giant being of pure white radiance, and the brilliance he cast was such that my gaze could no longer rest upon him.  I looked down, but even the black well of Tartarus was gone, consumed by the light.  I felt as though I were falling.  I tumbled endlessly in unquenchable white fire, hotter than the corona of the sun. 

A microscopic fleck of darkness formed before me, and I felt myself propelled towards it at inconceivable speed.  It grew to fill the whole of my vision save for one brilliant point of light, like a star fading into the stygian night. 

Beware! he whispered, and it was gone.

MY EYES OPENED.  THROUGH the tent flap, far to the east, I could see a false dawn had lightened the sky, barely illuminating the stark ridge below.  Twinkling a finger’s breadth above the horizon, the planet Mercury, Hermes of old, was rising.  All about me was deathly still.  Betrayer’s wards were unbroken.  Subtle indeed! I thought.  Pretty nice work there, Daddy-o, especially for someone who’s presumed to be unstable and turning to the darkness.

As I watched the swift cold sunrise, I pondered his message for additional clues beyond its plain meaning.  One thing was sure—he was in full control of his powers; and from what I could tell, his personality appeared to be no different than it had been the last time we met.  In fact he seemed more than a little concerned about the potential harm I might be exposed to.  All this argued against Zeus’ dark nature rising notion. 

On the other hand, my father’s passionate rejection of my presence here, his resolve to violently oppose Zeus and Hera, even to attack me if I stood with them, all argued in favor. 

I could not make sense out of the contradictions.  After puzzling about it for a few more moments, I resolved to shelve the whole mess and await further developments. 

And in case you were wondering whether his warning was going to dissuade me from the ascent, the short answer is, not a chance.

THE NEXT LEG OF THE journey for a typical hiking party, according to the all-knowing Guide, is to spend a day moving from the vicinity of the churchyard to Base Camp, approximately fifteen hundred meters higher in elevation, and to spend another night acclimating.  I intended to skip that step.  My plan was to push on, all the way across the Gergeti Glacier, and spend the night at Forward Base Camp, five hundred meters higher.  Assuming the weather held (a sometimes dicey assumption), I would then make the summit of Kazbek by mid-morning of the next day. 

The final two-thousand-meter climb was grueling, most of it at a treacherous forty-five-degree grade.  That time of year it was both ice- and snow-covered, and would be the most challenging part of the ascent.  I wanted to be relatively fresh when I reached the top, as it was likely going to be the easiest thing I did that day.

I broke camp just after sunrise and set off.  Much of the route was routine climbing.  I was aware of a growing sense of watchfulness on the mountain slope.  Betrayer was uneasy as well. 

I reached the base of the glacier at midday.  My trek had been uneventful, though the nearly constant stream of small rocks and loose scree from above had kept me on my toes.  The weather had co-operated as well.  The sun was high and bright in the blue-black sky, the air now so thin as to cause the blue to begin to fade.  Far below me to the west I could see clouds massing, promising rain or perhaps snow in the upland valleys. 

It was a relief to get away from the lower cliffs and dig out my crampons and ice gear.  For one thing, I could stop worrying about getting struck in the head by a chunk of falling rock.  Crossing the glacier field, the chief danger would be hidden crevasses, rotten spots in the ice that could give way without warning.  Before me, Kazbek loomed large, still over six thousand feet higher than my present level. 

That part of the route was potentially the most vulnerable.  There was no cover for over a mile, and the terrain was far from flat.  I would be exposed, unable to move quickly to avoid an attacker. 

Betrayer had reduced the diameter of the warding sphere she had constructed the night before, and she kept it in place while we trekked along the cliff base.  No doubt it would provide some protection even as I moved over the ice, but I was no longer concerned about mundane, or even magical, assault—not to mention the fact that any attack Prometheus cared to mount against me would not even be slowed by her efforts.

Better to get an early warning and save your defensive power for now, I commanded her.  She dropped the wards and replaced them with a detection screen only molecules in width.  This had the advantage of being both invisible and imperceptible, as well as increasing her effective range to nearly a hundred meters.  Beyond that, I would rely on my own eyes and reaction time.

Three hours later, I was about two-thirds of the way across the glacier.  The going had been very slow, mostly due to rotten ice and wide crevasses.  It was getting cold.  The sun hung low in the western sky, long shadows trailing across the slope. 

As I gathered myself to cross the latest gap, a fifteen- foot-wide monster, Betrayer vibrated wildly in her sheath.  Too late to halt my leap, I reached left-handed across my body in midair and drew her in one motion.  My momentum carried me to the far side, but only one crampon and the tip of my axe hit solid ice.  The other clattered on loose scree. 

My right shoulder screamed in agony.  The full weight of my body swung from one arm, twisting it violently. 

But the awkward landing probably saved my life.  To my left, a golden spearhead that had been destined for my spine had instead embedded itself up to its lashings in the ice.  As quick as thought, it vanished, returning to its owner.  I knew he would not miss a second time.

Ignoring Prometheus’s booming laughter from above, I thrust down as hard as I could with my good crampon.  I let go of the ice axe and placed both hands on the hilt of Betrayer, willing her to koda-tachi size, over a meter of razor-keen steel with a long two-handed grip.  I arched my back, using the power of my thrust and my momentum to somersault away from the deadly precipice. 

A golden sun-bolt of pure energy streaked towards me, exploding into blue fire as Betrayer slashed forward to deflect it.  The force of the blast knocked me backward, and chunks of broken rock and ice rained down on my position.  Not taking an instant to see where the bolt had hit, I harnessed the blast into another defensive leap.  I had no cover and no time to counter-attack:  My enemy had chosen the ground wisely. 

I hit the ice running.  There were barely two hundred yards between me and the rocky escarpment that bounded the upper edge of the ice-flow.  If I could reach the relative shelter of the wall, I could turn and attempt a defense.  It was not much of a plan, just the best one I could come up with under the circumstances.  One big problem:  I was not going to make it.

Sun-bright, the tumbled ice around me lit up with sudden fire.  Betrayer howled as her attempt to shield my back was shattered by the force of the bolt.  The impact threw me forward in the air, skidding me past the icy verge and slamming my body into the cliff face.  Betrayer flew from my nerveless grip as I lay crumpled against the rock. 

I rose slowly, spitting blood, and I turned towards him, defenseless.  I wanted to look my slayer-creator in his golden eyes as he destroyed me.

Devcalion! a giant voice called from behind and to my right.  "Get down!"

Without thought I cast myself sideways, rolling behind a small outcrop of broken stone.  The air above me crackled and screamed as it was turned into white-hot plasma.  Zeus’ thunder-bolt lit up the glacier field.  All the surrounding pinnacles stood out in stark relief.  An instant later, it struck a perch high above the lower ridge, which splintered into massive shards of knife-edged rock.  Debris rained down on the far side of the main pass, dislodging even larger layers.  The ground shook as millions of tons of granite cracked and slid, obliterating the lower trail and cascading down towards the valley below. 

"Run, you fool!  Run for your life!"

It was Zeus screaming above the tumult to get my attention.  Grabbing Betrayer, I raced upslope following his lead.  Behind us the massive landslide grew, threatening to spread to the near wall.  Clearing the last of the ice, we rounded the top of the pass, all the while leaping over smaller boulders and loose rocks dislodged by the slide.  Above the pass the ground grew more level.  The shaking below weakened, and the rumbling grew more distant.  We came to a second bend, and I stopped, panting, beside a massive block of stone. 

Zeus turned back toward me.  This is not the place to tarry!  He may track us yet.  Come, cousin!

I looked at him, deliberately meeting his eye.  Thank you, cousin.  I do not often require assistance, but yours was most welcome, and most timely.  I focused on his expression as I spoke, though I made it seem as if I was not.  My father’s attack was well planned.  Were it not for your aid, he would have destroyed me.  Truly I am in your debt.

Zeus looked away from me, almost embarrassed.  T’was nothing, he said gruffly, shaking his head.  I expected he might attempt to slay you as you approached the Rock.  You are the key, Devcalion, and Prometheus knows it.  You must be cautious and give him no quarter when you confront him on the summit.

I looked at him for a long moment as he dithered a bit.  Something about what he said had triggered a faint memory, but my mind was not up to puzzling it out just then.  I nodded without further comment, dusting off my clothes and shouldering my remaining gear.  I was glad to note that three cans of beer, as well as my length of hemp, still remained in my battered rucksack.  I placed one hand on Betrayer to reassure her.  All right, then.  Let’s go.

I reached Forward Base Camp as darkness set in.  I dug out my singed flimsy and pitched it in the shelter of a solid granite outcrop, near the base of the trail I would take to the summit in the morning.  I was alone.  Zeus had accompanied me as far the top of the rise and left me with these words:  My blast has broken the mountain side, and all the lower slope is in ruin.  Nonetheless, Devcalion, beware!  Prometheus was not destroyed; he awaits his opportunity.  I will keep watch from a high place.  You must guard yourself as you best know how.  He bowed his head and vanished. 

Duh, I muttered to his shimmering contrail.  Nothing like a little patronizing advice from the guy who’d saved your ass twice in the past hour. 

I lay down in my thermal bag, staring into the darkness above me.  Betrayer was sheathed at my side.  I’d ordered no wards or detection screens from her.  Despite Zeus’ warning, I knew, without being able to explain why, that I would be safe from attack that night. 

Instead of preparing a defense, I fell deep in thought, employing a practical meditation to open my mind and recall all that I could of both Prometheus’ words and those of Zeus.  There was some memory among them that I could almost grasp. . . something important.  But try as I might, I could not find the key.  Something was missing, something in plain sight. 

My enemy and I would face each other tomorrow.  I could not wait for the dawn.

FIRST LIGHT BROKE OVER the high eastern peaks, rhodos dactylos, staining the Rock as crimson as the blood of the Titan it had once borne.  I sat alone at its highest point. 

My dark cloak was cast around my shoulders.  My legs were crossed in padmasana position, my eyes closed.  Breathing slowly, I moved my pranha, my life force, in tune with the energy of the coming storm.  I was aware of everything around me, to the limits of the horizon. 

Here, long ago, Prometheus had suffered unimaginable torment.  I could still perceive faint echoes of his pain.  They awoke within me a curious mixture of triumph and rage; for the first time, I understood his love for the men of this Earth, how he considered them his first-born children.  I am so sorry, Father, I whispered aloud, opening my eyes to behold him, so sorry.

He was standing at the edge of the sheer precipice, the level rays of the newly risen sun turning his golden breastplate to fire.  His hands were empty, but I knew he needed no weapon. 

My son, why didst thou not heed my warning? he asked without preamble, looking at me intently.  "I have no wish to battle with you.  Where is the coward Zeus?  My quarrel is with him and his scheming temptress.

The Earth and its folk are mine, bought by my blood and torment.  I care not for the wishes of this upstart god and his witch consort!  I, and I alone, will determine their destiny. As he spoke, his eyes lit up with power.  Two massive boulders, each easily over five hundred pounds, rose from the ground and began to orbit in synchrony two meters above his head. 

I remained motionless, my hands open and relaxed on my knees, gazing at him.  I filled my mind with a mantra, purposely placing myself into a space of non-thought.  I was waiting for my opportunity. 

My father had two great powers that, when used in consort, were nearly invincible.  He had the power of teleportation—any object could be his weapon, and he could move at the speed of thought.  He also had the power to read minds, allowing him to know where his enemy’s thrust was intended before it had even begun.  I could not defeat him on his terms.  I had to get him to play my game.

I will not fight you, Father, I said in a matter-of-fact tone.  Your nature even now is turning to the darkness, and in a little while all the Earth, and the men upon it whom you so love, will be at great risk.  I ask you, as your son and the bearer of your blood, will you place yourself once more upon the Rock?  The chains of Hephaestus alone can restrain your dark rage and prevent the destruction of all that you once bled for.

As I said this, I could see my words were having their desired effect.  He stared at me, the glow fading from his eyes, and the boulders sank once more, settling upon the ground.  His expression grew unreadable.  In the next instant, he was standing beside me, though for once I was gazing down on him from my perch. 

Devcalion, he said in a whisper, as though he might be overheard, how dost thou come to this knowledge?  Did Zeus— his eyes flashed again, and for the barest instant he looked away, distracted by his anger. 

That was my opportunity.  I knew I was only going to get one chance.

Without thought, I closed my hand on Betrayer, lying invisible in my right palm.  She expanded to tantō size, her sixteen-inch blade blazing with blue fire.  Her song filled the air between us as I thrust her toward his exposed throat in a killing blow.

She flashed forward, faster than sight but slower than his thought.  I never had a chance. 

As quickly as it blossomed, her fire was quenched and her song of blood and vengeance hushed.  Her hilt shrank, and she became as small as when she first came into my eight-year-old hand.  My strike went wide, and she slipped from my fingers, clattering on the stony ground to my left.

Dost thou seek to slay me with my own blade? Prometheus murmured.  Remembrest thou not from whence she came?

I remained motionless, gazing at him steadily, anticipating destruction.  Instead, he laughed and, with some bitterness, went on, My son, Betrayer is aptly named, for you are betrayed by an allegiance greater than your own.

He gestured, and instantly she was in his hand, becoming a massive hilted broadsword over a meter and a half long and blazing with fire of many colors.  He raised it, and I bowed my head.  I knew I deserved death, and if it was to be by his hand, so be it.

A timeless moment passed.

Immortality does not mean invulnerability.  My life, eternal and ageless as it might be, would end here, upon this crimson Rock, if he so wished.  Unbidden, the death poem of Ôuchi Yoshitaka, the last of the great samurai, came to my mind.

Both the victor

and the vanquished are

but drops of dew,

but bolts of lightning. . .

thus should we view the world.

Betrayer clove the air, her song a blend of sorrow and judgement.  I felt her edge fall upon me, so light as to part but a single hair from the skin of my neck.  Then all was still.

I raised my eyes, seeking his, but he was gone. 

Father! I called out to him in thought.  Why do you spare me?  Where are you now?

I waited, my heartbeat measuring the seconds, but he did not answer.  Betrayer was gone as well.  She had been by my side for so long as to have become a part of my soul, her loss felt like an open wound, a void in my psyche.  I was alone and defenseless.

Devcalion! a great voice boomed behind me, the word tattered by the rising wind.  Do you still live?

I glanced over my shoulder.  Zeus and Hera were standing side by side at the far edge of the two-hundred-meter oval that comprised the summit.  Dark clouds filled the sky behind them.  The storm I had seen forming in the valley the other day now covered the lower peaks, shrouding them from direct view. 

The pair seemed frozen, staring at me.  Hera especially held me in her black gaze.  I offered no reply except to cast back my cloak and turn so that I could keep an eye on both of them.  My recent attempt at patricide, and my reprieve, had released a flood of memory.  I knew exactly what I had to do.

There are moments in all of our lives, man, god or Titan-son alike, when we are called by that which is greater than ourselves.  I had spent my long life as an unattached, wise-cracking, amoral scoundrel, a sarcastic iconoclast who cared for the Earth only as much as she and her people benefitted me.  I did not desire power or command, only a life of freedom and exploration unbound to any lord. 

My confrontation with Prometheus on the Rock had opened my eyes.  I saw my existence and my acts for what they were: shallow, vapid, and self-serving.  I felt my debt to him for my life twice over.  The true nature of my father’s blood awoke in me, and something of his fierce passion for this Earth and its people with it.  I was transformed and overwhelmed.

I looked down, and then I rose, my feet on the Rock.  I shifted my weight, grounding through the stone to the core of the Earth herself.  I felt her instant response, and my third chakra filled with her energy.  In acknowledgement I transitioned into kokutsu-dachi, lowering my stance and raising my hands to center position, exhaling deliberately.

Zeus, Zeus, Zeus, I exclaimed in a scolding sing-song, shaking my head and wagging a finger at them both.  Cousin, you are one power-mad, deceitful, narcissistic little jerk, aren’t you?  And Hera! I must not ignore the bitter old Whore of Troy! I added, leveling my finger at her.  You missed a great marketing opportunity, by the way, as a spokes-hag for Trojans, ya know!  You were the one who put him up to it, weren’t you?

I had no idea what I was accusing them of.  I knew that their behavior, the way they had set me up against my father, spoke of some ulterior motive.  I was bluffing, and betting that neither of them had ever learned how to draw to an inside straight.

So the thief’s bastard has turned upon us at last! she hissed, her dark eyes blazing with hatred.  I prefer it so.  You should feel the full depth of your defeat as you meet your destruction!

She stepped to Zeus’s left and spread her arms apart, summoning.  Between her fingers a silvery net formed, flowing from them to encircle the summit.  Zeus lifted his right arm, and the sky above us darkened and began to flash with lightning.  A great thunderbolt formed in his open hand, and the frigid wind howled from the east. 

I remained motionless on the Rock, still connected to the heart of the Earth, letting her energy flow into my power center.  Judging from their reactions, I was pretty sure I had touched a nerve.

"You are alone, Devcalion!  Zeus had recovered his voice, and now it rolled and echoed like thunder.  Hera desires your life, but I do not wish your destruction.  Your treacherous father has disarmed you that you might be sacrificed in his place. 

Nonetheless, I offer you a gift!  Pledge yourself to me.  Join with us to defeat Prometheus, and I shall grant you his place of dominion over all the peoples of the Earth!

I lowered my hands to my sides, my right arm now hidden from view by the hem of my cloak.  I looked at him directly. 

Cousin, your words intrigue me, but first we must be plain. . . .  I wish to learn what will become of Prometheus, and of the people of this Earth that he sacrificed himself for.  It is clear you still hold his theft of Fire against him, and you desire all things to be as they were in times of old.  But consider, my cousin, Prometheus is a Titan!  His power, unchecked, can destroy even you, All-Father.  What of him?

He looked at me intently, eyes widening in surprise.  My shot had landed very near the mark.  He glanced at Hera, who screeched in reply, You fool!  He knows nothing!  You betray us, dull oaf!

I swept my cloak forward as I bowed.  My deepest thanks, Mistress Hera, you’ve been most helpful! and threw her my wickedest grin.  Your words leave no doubt of your true intentions.  Knowing my isolation from the politics of Olympus, and the bad blood between my father and me, you chose me to be your unwitting agent.  The son of your hated enemy would be the perfect bait to your trap!  And once Prometheus was imprisoned or destroyed, you would be free to steal back his gift.  The gods would enslave all men once more, subject to the whims and petty squabbles of your pathetic egos. . . .  Do I get full points, Mistress? I concluded.

She ground her teeth in reply. 

You guess near, Devcalion, but not in the gold.  It was Zeus, holding up his hand to forestall further words from her.  "My bargain with your father was voided long ago, when Heracles released him from the Rock.  I gave my word that the Earth would remain free in exchange for his eternal torment.  The gift of Fire was dearly bought, purchased with his blood.

We but reclaim what he stole!  We shall cleanse the earth of these upstart Men and their perverse civilization.  He raised his thunderbolt to the sky, and jagged lightning joined it from the tumult above.  His voice thundered through the riven air, "Now you must choose, cousin.  Join with us, or be destroyed!"

Suddenly the nagging puzzle pieces all fell into place.  It was so simple, and the answer had been in plain sight all along! I knew how to stop Zeus, and save the Earth. 

Shield yourself! Prometheus’ great voice echoed in my mind.

Without thought I threw my body behind the Rock, placing its massive bulk between myself and my enemies.  A boulder of white-hot granite screamed overhead, and the earth jumped as it exploded on the lip of the summit.  I stuffed my cloak into my ears and hugged the ground as supersonic shock waves ripped through the clouds.  The back blast was deafening.  Chunks of rock were thrown into the air.  I looked up, drawing back my cloak.  Prometheus hovered above me, his eyes glowing.  He smiled as he sent the massive slab he had held as protection above us to join the devastation. 

Hi, Dad, I said.  Nice entrance. 

His smile broadened, and then he vanished.  Move not, my son! he told me, I heard all. . .my battle now is with Zeus.  Remain hidden, and beware the Witch!

The tumult on the far side of the Rock increased a hundredfold, thunderbolts blasting through a rain of granite like a tornado of living rock.  Despite his warning, I raised myself, peering at the cataclysm.

Just in time. 

Zeus and Hera were pinned down between the crater that had formerly been the lip of the summit and the sheer precipice beyond.  Prometheus hung in the air about fifty meters to my left, drawing Zeus’s fire away from my position, while raining a constant barrage of rock onto Hera’s defenses.  She had rewoven her net into a defensive redoubt, collecting stones from Prometheus’ assault and allowing Zeus to toss bolts with impunity.  It looked like a stalemate.

Crap!

I ducked behind the Rock, but the damage was done.  Hera had seen me. 

The side of the Rock facing them erupted as blue-white corona fire slammed against it.  The broken chains of Hephaestus danced in the wild currents, throwing sparks in all directions.  I could feel the heat as the entire face started to glow.

It was my turn to be pinned down.  I needed to move, but first Zeus had to be distracted—otherwise I was going to be one extra-crispy demi-god.  No sooner had this thought entered my head than I saw Prometheus stationed above me.  He had collected an enormous sphere of smaller boulders and scree, and as I watched, compacted them into a rock-ball almost four meters in diameter. 

He did not spare me a glance, so great was his concentration.  The ball contracted still further, glowing now with the heat of its own compression.

Go! He shouted into my mind as he gestured towards me, at the same time sending the near-magma-hot projectile hurtling towards Zeus.  I did not wait to see the results. 

I had made perhaps twenty strides when the shockwave lifted me off my feet and sent me tumbling across the summit.  I saw the basalt slab in front of me about a millisecond before everything went black.

I OPENED ONE EYE.  The other seemed stuck shut.  I tried to raise my hand but found that I could not.  Sometime during the intervening blankness, someone had taken care to bind me hand and foot with my very own length of hemp.  Once I got free, I was going to have to thank them. . .personally.

The sun was low in the west, perhaps an hour remained before sunset.  The storm had cleared.  I was lying on my side next to the basalt outcrop to which I had been so rudely introduced earlier