Zeus Thunderheart's Arc

Chapter 3 of 9

The peacock's cry rang out again, closer now. Zeus knew what it meant. Hera was sweeping the valley for him. He had found the widow, but he had no cover left to reach her. Once the queen spotted him, the child would die before it was born. He needed the sky darkened and the queen slowed. He knew one god who could do both. Zeus climbed to a rise and called the name of the sleep-bringer. The air thickened. A figure drifted down through the trees, barefoot, eyes shut, a flower crown wilting on white hair. Hypnos moved like a man walking in a dream he could not leave. He owed Zeus a debt from an old quarrel, and Zeus had come to collect. "You want her asleep," Hypnos said. His voice was slow and soft. "Your wife burns too hot for a long rest. I can give you an hour. No more." "An hour is enough," Zeus said. Hypnos raised one heavy hand toward the ridgeline. A grey mist rolled out across the fields. Somewhere beyond it, the peacock's cry faltered and stopped. Zeus felt the pressure lift, like a storm passing over. Hera's search had slowed. But the mist would burn off fast, and then she would wake angry. Zeus ran. He shed his own bright form and pulled a healer's robe over his shoulders, blue-green, marked with a quiet cross. In this guise the widow would trust him. He crossed the field to a small chapel in an olive grove, its bell still, its door open. He had glimpsed the widow walking there at dusk. He waited by the doorway. She came within minutes, the cursed apple still in her apron. A grey cat with mismatched eyes trailed her, tail high. The cat stopped and stared straight at Zeus, hackles rising, as if it saw through the robe. "You're not from this valley," the widow said. She did not step back. Her hand rested on the doorframe, steady. "I'm a physician," Zeus said. "I heard a strong woman lived past the ridge. I came to meet her." "Many come to meet me. Few stay when the work is hard." She studied his face. The cat pressed against her leg, still watching him. "I won't ask for hard work," Zeus said. "Only your trust, for one night." She was quiet. Then she reached down and touched the cat's head, and the animal settled. "Come in, then," she said, and turned into the chapel. Zeus followed her inside. The door swung shut behind them. Outside, the grey mist was already thinning at its edges. He had bought his hour. He had reached the widow at last, unseen, and won her to the door. But Hypnos had promised only sixty minutes, and when the mist cleared, Hera would wake knowing exactly where to look.