Paolo sat on the trog, the boat specially designed to travel into the hidden caves along the cliffs of Gaios. A storm was brewing to the west and already he could see that the water was choppier than usual. Still, he saw the stars. By the time he would leave—if he left—it would be storming overhead.
The driver glanced back at him and he reclined his seat but remained upright. He loved this part. It reminded him of a roller coaster ride, dangerous and thrilling. He sipped his champagne and then set it in the holder. He remembered that the last time he had taken this excursion into Delos, Valeria had been with him, and they were engaged. He remembered the way the moonlight played on her eyes and the white gown that was so exquisitely fitted just for her. Now, he only prayed that he might see her again.
The trog throttled the engine to perfectly position the boat. Paolo saw the lights of other trogs approaching and knew the driver would be in a hurry to catch a fare from another immortal. Paolo stared out at the angry waves crashing on the cliffs and boulders ahead of him, and again felt that thrill. The trog headed full speed into the cliff. Paolo used to believe that the speed was to titillate the guests. After having kayaked into the cave, Paolo now knew that it was in order to gain momentum before the driver killed the engine in the cave. Otherwise, they would have to battle the tides for hours and use the rope that ran along the edge of the cave to get to the ledge, where they crossed the bridge into Delos. Paolo had pulled himself along those ropes—they were covered in algae and provided very little traction.
For some reason, this event triggered memories of his first time in Delos—perhaps because this trip into Delos was most certainly his last. This time, he was not thinking of the time as a boy when he had swam in the forbidden and dangerous waters, but the time when he had finally been acknowledged as an immortal. Of course, it was after Myrdd had been executed and Jeremiah had validated his membership into the exclusive club.
To hear his name announced as an immortal had been the dream of a lifetime—for him and Kristiana. It had been her insistence that, somehow, her son would be recognized, even though she never could be.
He remembered hearing whispers as he entered the council that he was a direct descendent of the god, Adonis. The corners of his mouth turned up at that suggestion. Few remembered that Adonis was the product of a relationship between incestuous mortals. Still, he understood the reference was neither to the incestuous relationship nor to the question of his mortality. It was a reference to his dark good looks and he had learned to play them to his advantage.
Just then, the trog entered the narrow cave and cut off its engine. Paolo remembered that on his first trip, if he hadn’t been so intrigued with getting into Delos, he would have asked the driver to take him out and do it again.
But this was a different trip, and the results would forever close this door to him. As he stepped onto the ledge and lit the torch, he waited for the trog to disappear around the corner as it exited the cave. The waves rolled in ferociously and Paolo glanced down the cave, for the first time seeing the real danger. The ledge was wet and one false step at the wrong moment—as the waves were rolling in—and he would probably never
escape.
The bridge was lowered and he crossed to the adamantine gates. There, he waited for the drib to arrive with the gondola. Most immortals joked of how frightened they had been with their first view
of the poor, dead souls—but Paolo knew them well from his childhood in the temple of Cuma and the underworld.
By the time Kristiana had taken him to the temple, there were only remnants of the ethylene vapors. And because he was not an oracle, the hallucinations didn’t last nearly long enough for his liking, but that was in his youth and he was past all of that now.
As Paolo stepped off the gondola and onto the island of Delos, dressed in his tux, he subconsciously ran his finger along the neck of his shirt.
He glanced at the table of food and saw a young immortal woman winking at him. He offered her his most seductive smile as she approached, and then he lightly brushed his lips along the key points of her neck that would ensure a physical response.
“You look lovely this evening, Martina.”
“Paolo, you haven’t called me in decades!” she said with a pout.
“I have been...otherwise engaged. However, perhaps I should find some time.”
He needed all the friends he could get tonight. He smiled at her seductively and then glanced around at the group of immortals. He realized that although he called them friends, there was not one whom he could depend on to stand up for him if it were required.
Straight ahead was a wall of heavy silk that housed the extraordinary kitchen facilities. The River Styx circled on either side, with its brilliant shade of oracle blue—although the immortals would never acknowledge the color as such because they perceived the oracles to be of a lesser breed. They had a strict social order with gods and their immortal descendants at the top, oracles in the middle, and mortals nearly inconsequential.
He scrutinized the group and then permitted his eyes to briefly wander to the edge of Delos, where a narrow walkway led down to Jeremiah’s prison cells and then—if one made it past Cerberus, the flesh eating mutt—they would find themselves in hell. It took a nod from Minos to veer to the light and the Elysian Fields.
As he studied the eight thrones of red and gold velvet, placed for each head of the council, he noticed the candles lit from crystal chandeliers that hung dramatically off the fifty-foot ceilings. One hung right over Jeremiah’s chair. He smiled; it would take so little to loosen the rope to it. But Shinsu’s seat was next to Jeremiah’s and Shinsu was a friend. In fact, it seemed that it was only the oracles who he could ever count on—despite their differences!
He took a glass of champagne from a passing drib and worked the room socially until he reached the far left wall. Glancing around he saw that no one was watching, and his eyes darted beyond the wall and down the River Styx.
Where were they?
As he coolly brought his glance back to Delos, he sensed someone watching him, and his eyes met Shinsu’s. They nodded casually and then both wandered toward the grand buffet.
Sliced beef wellington, trout almandine, lobster, and a myriad of other luxuries covered the table. A drib tossed custom made salads for guests. Paolo took a gulp of his champagne. He had no interest in food at the moment. His stomach tightened as he thought about the plan. It would require split second timing for it to all work out—and there was much at risk for many if they failed—which they likely would.
Eyeing a woman in the distance, he smiled, lifted his champagne glass toward her, and slid his hand into his pocket in a perfect GQ pose—a move that had won him the attentions of almost every woman. But tonight, he was not interested. The woman’s eyes lit in invitation. As soon as she turned to speak to someone else, Paolo’s eyes darted around the room again and, without facing Shinsu, he said, “They are not here yet. We will need to stall.” His eyes darted to the cave wall to where he expected them to emerge. As the woman turned back to him, he returned to his role as the son of Adonis—and offered her a lascivious grin.
“I have business that will keep us occupied for a short while. If it goes beyond that...we’re in trouble. Where is Daphne?” Shinsu asked, attempting to hide her concern.
“She should be here,” he glanced at his Rolex, “now.” They turned to see Daphne stepping off from the gondola, wearing a loose one-shoulder gown that shimmered green and blue with silver beading. Her red hair danced from her shoulders.
“And the rest?”
Shinsu asked.
“In position,” he said, as the rich smells of the food filled the air.
“You know that Jeremiah’s eyes will be on Daphne—as a member of the family,” Shinsu said casually, with an underlying tension.
“Yes, we are counting on Daphne being a distraction,” he said. Then, seeing Jeremiah glaring at him, he whispered, “We’re being watched—laugh,” Paolo said and they turned to each other and laughed without a hint of amusement in their eyes. Once Jeremiah turned to speak to another young woman, Paolo continued. “Lars suspected that having Daphne here would put Jeremiah on edge. If he is nervous, he might make mistakes.”
“Jeremiah is most certainly on edge.” She looked away. “I’m going to mingle before the meeting is called to order. I don’t want Jeremiah to suspect you in this. Of course, he already does.”
“In that case, he won’t have long to wait for his suspicions to be confirmed.”
Paolo wandered off and chatted with the other immortals about meaningless topics. Then he went to the bar and ordered a twenty-one-year-old scotch and tossed it down as he glanced at his watch. It had been over fourteen hours since Alex had left. He wished that he could have some confirmation about their status. He was nervous...and he was rarely nervous.
“Make that two,” Daphne said to the drib bartender who grunted and poured her a double. Paolo took her hand and lifted it to his lips.
“You look lovely,” he said, but without his typical charm.
“Is Jeremiah watching?” Daphne asked.
Paolo’s eyes scrutinized the crowd. “Yes, he is coming to see you. Join me by the wall when you are done with him.” Then Paolo disappeared into the crowd as Daphne chatted briefly with Jeremiah.
It was only a few minutes later when Daphne met Paolo by the cave entrance to the underworld.
“Any sign of them?” she asked, as she peeked beyond the wall.
Paolo shook his head as the gong sounded, indicating the beginning of the meeting.
“Ready?” Daphne asked.
“No.”
Jeremiah sat in the first of the ornate red and gold chairs with Shinsu next to him. He placed his hand over Shinsu’s. Paolo had known both of them most of his life and found Jeremiah’s act of affection humorous. Shinsu’s eyes narrowed in repulsion, although she left her hand in place.
“Shinsu has received a letter that states that there has been a frivolous abuse of this council.” Jeremiah sighed. “My dear, would you like to present the letter to me so that I might share only the significant portions of the letter with this council?”
Shinsu glared at Jeremiah for a moment and then her eyes drifted to Paolo—who offered a slight shake of his head to indicate that Alex and Valeria had not yet arrived. Shinsu had hoped to be able to remain a voice of reason within the council, as she had done so many times before with varying degrees of success. She had intended to calmly vote—based on the evidence—to remove her spouse from the council.
After all of that business was handled an annulment would be automatically approved. But unfortunately that was not an option tonight. She would have to separate herself from Jeremiah and the council before the evidence against him was presented. This was dangerous for Paolo—who had always inspired a sort of motherly affection in her—and all of the oracles involved, but it was their only option now.
Drawing a deep breath, and with marked disgust, Shinsu pulled her hand back from under Jeremiah’s. “Actually, there is another matter that I believe takes precedence over these accusations.”
“What’s she doing?” Daphne whispered.
Paolo clung tightly to Daphne’s hand. “Stalling.”
“As there are times when romance and love determines the immediacy of a meeting—there are also times when the opposite should also constitute immediacy,” Shinsu said.
Jeremiah looked a bit lost. “This was not on the agenda! May I ask what this is about, my dear?”
“All in good time,
my dear,”
she said, venomously. Even from the distance, Shinsu’s unexpected disrespect took Jeremiah and the rest of the immortals by surprise. His eyes widened and, for once, he was speechless. Shinsu gave Jeremiah a cold glare. “As I am certain you have suspected, Jeremiah, the accusations involve you.”
“Me?” Jeremiah said sanctimoniously.
“Someone has sent me a letter that accuses you of filing false reports for your own promotion. The letter states that he or she has evidence that Myrddin did not violate the laws of Apollo—and that you were aware of this,” she said ominously, as a hush fell over the crowd.
“This is not the letter you presented to me, as the head of this council, just hours ago!” Jeremiah said as he pounded his cane against the stone floors.
Smiling sweetly, Shinsu turned to Jeremiah. “I’m certain that the council understands. I could not relinquish information which might incriminate you—and it certainly does!”
Despite his black, leathery skin, Jeremiah nearly turned white.
“This is absurd!” he declared. “I am the head of this council—the son of a god—and I will not be ordered
about by...by,” his face filled with loathing, “an oracle!” Jeremiah spit. “I call Erebos!” The masked henchman appeared from the shadows with his double-sided axe.
Shinsu eyes turned arctic blue as she smiled. “At least we all know how you feel now.” He scowled. “And I assure you that the feeling is mutual!” She glanced at Jeremiah. “I have filed the appropriate forms for the investigation of this...accusation.”
“I demand that my accuser step forward!” Jeremiah bellowed.
“And I am certain that your accuser will be most happy to oblige your demand. However, as I stated earlier, there is a more pressing matter at hand...for now,” she said, turning to the council. “Due to the evidence that Jeremiah murdered my husband with the intention of using my association to gain power with the council, he most certainly married me under false pretenses. His statements regarding the oracles at this meeting support that charge. Therefore, I request an immediate end to this ruse of a marriage. I have filed for an annulment, effective immediately.”