Kratos's Arc

Chapter 2 of 11

Kratos waited by the ash-gray oracle tree for word of Bia. Word came, but not the kind he wanted. A small owl in gladiator armor dropped from the branches and landed on a root ridge. Athonius the Wise had counseled Kratos before the war. He did not waste visits. "You have a problem you cannot punch," Athonius said. His voice was crisp and precise. "A Titan-blooded elder has heard you gather enforcers. She sees a fist forming under Olympus. She means to close it before it grows." Kratos set his jaw. "Then she comes at me first, before Bia even returns." "She already moves. Her strength runs through old stone. But every root has a source." The owl tilted his head. "The source of her line is chained below. Speak to him, and you may bend her without a single blow." Kratos knew where the roots ran. Down, into the volcanic dark, to the iron doors of the shadow-prison. He went. Lava seams glowed red across the black rock. Two firey hounds paced before the doors, their eyes like molten pits, heat rolling off their coats. They did not bite. They knew a god of strength when they smelled one. Behind the iron doors sat Kronos, the Titan of Time. His golden armor had dulled in the dark. He did not look up at once. "You're the strength god," Kronos said. "You built a fist. My mother's blood wants it broken." "Your mother," Kratos said. "The earth herself." "The elder who moves against you carries her line. She fears your enforcers because she fears me getting out." Kronos met his eyes. "I swallowed my children. I was a jerk. I am done pretending I wasn't." He paused. "If you want her called off, carry her a truth. Tell her I do not want out. Tell her I want my sons to stop watching the door." Kratos reached into his mystic satchel and drew a rune-marked token. "Mark it. So she knows the words are yours." Kronos pressed his thumb to the token. The runes flared and cooled. "She'll believe my hand," he said. "She won't believe yours." Kratos climbed back through the red-lit dark. The elder waited above, wind bending the oracle tree toward her. He held out the token before she could strike. "From the one you fear," he said. "He wants no rescue. He wants peace. Your quarrel isn't with me." She read the runes. The wind died. The roots settled. "Then build your fist," she said. "But if it ever turns toward the chained, I return." She sank into the earth and was gone. Kratos stood alone. The threat was smothered. But he had bought his peace with a Titan's word, and Titans remember debts. He owed Kronos now. And Bia had not yet returned.