Grace of Gods Boxset: Reincarnated Greek Gods YA/NA Series Page 28

  “Is there anyone else here?”

  Atlas nodded, “yes, since I brought you a week ago I have also brought three others as they too were ready to join us here.”

  “I’ve been here a week?”

  “I told you, time moves differently here than it does back home.” He smiled ominously and I felt grim.

  “I must’ve been tired.”

  “You were fragile and tired.”

  “Can I meet the others then?” I smiled politely as I knew Mother would want.

  “You may do as you please here, I am not your keeper.” He smiled once more and I nodded, looking at the door. I was curious about meeting these other people who were here, seeing what they thought of this place.

  “Valentina?” I turned and smiled at Atlas, “my door is always open if you need someone to talk to. Or if you have any more questions.”

  I nodded slightly, getting the impression he was feeling paternal toward me. It made my stomach coil, but I wasn’t sure if it was a good thing or bad.

  As I left, I thought about finding one of the other people who were here and pushed the door open. When I stepped through I found myself entering the library, pausing to look around curiously.

  “Hello?” My voice echoed slightly through the empty room.

  I must’ve done it wrong.

  The mountain had offered me information about the other people who were here, in the form of books.

  Grabbing the biggest book in front of me, I glanced down at the title. It was an anthology of each lesser God in the called Pantheon. It would be a good starting place to familiarize myself with the options I had for my Goddess besides the Olympians Atlas had given me in his book.

  Balancing it carefully in my arms I turned ready to head back to my apartment for some reading when I stopped short in surprise. A bookish girl stood directly behind me, peering at me strangely.

  “Hello.” She said, simply unaware of how unnervingly close she was to me.

  “Hi,” I said, taking a step back if only to give me the opportunity to take her in fully.

  “Cleo.” She stuck her hand out toward me and I shifted the book uncomfortably in my arms to be able to shake her hand.

  “Valentina.”

  “Nice to meet you. Are you taking that?” She pushed her glasses back up on her nose and took the book from me

  right afterwards. I gasped slightly in surprise, starting to grab it back from her before I composed myself. I was used to this, I reminded myself. Eleven siblings tended to make having something entirely “your own” difficult. I watched Cleo flip carelessly through the pages before handing the open book back to me.

  “Looking at what Goddess you are.” She said, making it more of a statement than a question. My eyes flicked down at it and read quickly over the title page: “Muses”, before looking back up at her.

  “That’s the plan hopefully.” I smiled, “are you a muse?” I guessed, closing the book.

  “Clio.” She nodded, confusing me for a moment before I got it.

  “You have the same name as your Goddess.” “Yes, helpful I find. But I don’t know of any Goddesses named Valentina besides Saint Valentine but that’s Catholic.”

  “That’s who I’m named after.”

  “Why?”

  “All my siblings are named after saints. I guess they ran out of female saints by the time they got to me they found one that had a name that could become a feminine name without ruining it too much.”

  Cleo nodded her head slightly, “good luck.” She turned and started walking away making my eyebrows raise in confusion. She was strange. I hoped she wasn’t a representation of the kind of people who had been chosen to be Gods. Things were already strange enough without strange people.

  I decided to read about her Goddess when I got back to my apartment, maybe “Clio” was weird too and that was their historical connection Atlas had spoken about.

  “Oh, Valentina.” Cleo stopped walking and turned to look at me.

  “Be careful of the dark lion.”

  I blinked slightly, looking around wondering maybe if there was a ferocious beast lurking somewhere nearby that might attack me.

  “Thanks?”

  “You’re welcome.” Cleo smiled sweetly and slipped behind a bookshelf without another word.

  Strange.

  Moving to the door I pushed it open again and stepped out into the hallway, holding the book again with two arms as I walked. I was focused on thinking about Cleo and her dark lion that I forgot to think about going back to my apartment.

  It was no loss though; I could do with getting better acquainted with the mountain if I were going to be living here for... well, ever.

  But the more I wandered, the more I realized there wasn’t exactly anywhere in the hallway to go. If I wanted to go anywhere, like Atlas had suggested, I had to think about it.

  Going through the next door I entered the hallway, stopping suddenly when I saw Atlas there outside my door. Only it wasn’t my door, I realized after a moment.

  He was holding a body in his arms. I didn’t understand how he had managed to leave me and have time to go and get another person from Earth in the five – maybe ten– minutes I had spent in the library. It seemed unfathomable to me.

  But curiosity drew me closer as I came down the hallway toward them. He didn’t notice me as he opened the door and I watched him take the boy into the room.

  I caught a glance of his face and noted it was the same boy he had been looking at on the map. His face was riddled with bruises and dark circles marred under his eyes. He looked frail and weak like I had been when Atlas had brought me in.

  I frowned to myself and shook my head; it was none of my business. I looked at the door to my apartment and soon found myself back in the comfort of my cozy little living room. I set the book down on top of the one Atlas had left before and stared at the size of the second one for a moment but my thoughts were not on the reading I planned to do. They were on the boy in Atlas’ arms.

  I felt an unusual kinship toward him, understanding how it felt to be that helpless. In many ways we were similar, I could see parts of myself in his fractured face and it broke my heart. I needed to know more about him.

  Chapter 4

  I lazily read through what I could of the book, some of the Gods interesting me while others didn’t. But none of them cried out to me or reminded me of myself. It only made me wonder more who I could possibly be if I were a Goddess at all.

  Atlas didn’t seem like the kind of man who made mistakes though; I had to be here for a reason... Even if the reason wasn’t clear to me. Tired, and somewhat frustrated, I gave up on researching. Deciding that maybe the best way was to write out a list of Gods that I thought I could be.

  Then I could go back to that library – trying to avoid Cleo– to get the specific volumes about these Gods. Going into depth about them might help me clear some things up.

  I could only hope at least.

  I stood up from my spot on the couch, stretching out like a cat before heading to find a notebook and pencil. My eyes were drawn to the adjoining wall that connected my apartment with that boy’s. I wondered if he was awake, how he was feeling and if he needed anything.

  I knew it was a long shot that he would even come to the door, but I couldn’t help myself. I set the notebook down and left my apartment to go to his. I had been thinking about him when I left my apartment, hoping that would be enough to see myself through to his door. When I entered the hallway, there was one other door to my left. That had to be his.

  I felt unnecessarily nervous as I walked over to the door and raised my hand to knock. Only as soon as my knuckles rapped on the door I found it was pushed slightly ajar. Atlas must’ve forgotten to close it completely on his way out.

  Swallowing my nerves, I reached out, pushing the door open carefully and peeked in.

  “Hello?” The apartment was dark, except for some faint grey light with no source. My stomach twisted painfully as
I walked further into the room. I knew better than to walk into someone’s home, but I had seen Atlas bring the boy here myself... he was in here, somewhere. Perhaps he was still passed out.

  “Hello?” I tried again pushing the door open more and let the light filter into the room from the hallway. There was barely anything inside the apartment. There was a couch that looked old and not nearly as beautiful as my own, a table that was weathered and worn – maybe even pulled out of a dumpster somewhere, and no decorations to speak of.

  It was cold; it was the fundamental necessities for an apartment. But it had no character at all.

  To the right of the couch was a door, I figured had to be the bedroom I carefully crossed over to it and knocked again. This time the door was secured shut. But there was no noise from behind it.

  I knocked again and waited, it was only the polite thing to do when entering someone’s bedroom, before letting myself in. It was as dark in here as the main room was, but I could see a small shape huddled under the blankets of the bed.

  My instincts told me to leave him as he was. But he looked sick when Atlas brought him in. It simply wasn’t in my nature to leave someone to feign for themselves when they were not strong enough.

  Frowning to myself I moved over to the side of the bed, reaching out gently and hovering my hand by his mouth. It didn’t come as frequently as it should have, but every often I felt a small tuft of air on the back of my hand. He was alive at least.

  But he smelt like a brewery.

  I turned and walked out of the room quickly, moving over to the sink where I grabbed a cup and filled it with water for him.

  Once my brother had gotten drunk, he was sick for two days straight, moaning and groaning in pain from his bed. I had been tasked to bring him water and toast for the entire 48 hours to make sure he remained hydrated through the puking and he had something to settle the stomach acid.

  I opened his fridge, thinking about bread, and grabbed it out, popping it in the toaster. It was in case he woke up and needed food. Moving around a little bit I looked for a candle or a flashlight, anything that would help me see better. I thought about what Atlas had said about the magic I went to a drawer, thought about a candle and opened it. Sure enough, there was a large taper candle laying there like it had been waiting for me. I needed a lighter.

  Armed with my lit candle, toast and a glass of water I went back into his bedroom and set everything down on the side table, leaning in with the light to see him better.

  The circles I noticed before were a lot more pronounced now. He looked like someone had hit him in both his eyes they were dark. His skin was sallow and sunken in, nothing healthy about it.

  He moaned softly in his sleep, twisting under the blankets like something evil was trying to catch him. Setting the candle down I reached out and gently ran my hand over his forehead, it was sticky with sweat but I didn’t care. My hands had felt worse things in my lifetime.

  I pushed his hair back off his forehead as soothingly as I could manage, my fingers curling into his strands and massaging his scalp with a gentle touch. He continued to fight some demon in his sleep, muttering incoherently and moaning in pain.

  I took up the glass of water again and brought it to his lips, watching him drink even if he didn’t wake up. Something in him wanted to battle whatever it was holding him under. It made me smile despite the sadness of it. I was glad he still had the fight left in him.

  Setting the glass down, I hurried into the adjoining bathroom and found a facecloth, soaking it with cold water before going back into the bedroom. I folded it up into a band and laid it across his forehead, watching him shrink back from the coldness before relaxing again.

  He twisted suddenly, reaching out and grabbing my arm. He held it tightly I had to bite down on my lip to keep from crying out before he released me again. I stared down at him, expecting him to wake up, but he didn’t.

  “It’s going to be okay...” I whispered softly, “You’re safe now.”

  Picking the cloth up again I dabbed his forehead with it, brushing his cheeks with the wetness before working my way down and around his neck. It wasn’t much, but I thought it might help.

  I set the cloth back on his forehead when I was done, offering him the glass once more. This time he drank it all, gasping for air when he was done. He was growing more conscious. I wasn’t sure if I wanted him to see me if he woke, I didn’t want to explain why I was there, sneaking around his apartment, nor why I was helping him. I didn’t know the answers myself. Taking the glass, I returned to the bathroom and filled it back up for him before setting it down on the table in case he needed it.

  I excused myself, leaving his room as silently as I had entered it and seeing myself out of the apartment completely. I wanted to know what was wrong with him but then, finding Atlas and asking him also meant explaining why I had been in his room without permission in the first place. Atlas had said I was free to do as I pleased, but I sensed that sneaking into apartments was crossing some unspoken line.

  Instead, I thought about finding somewhere that would offer me something of color to bring to his room, if only to make it seem a bit more personal. I thought of flowers immediately; you were supposed to bring those to the hospital when people were sick. It was meant to help their recovery or something... Well, every little bit helps I always said.

  Focusing on that I walked through the next door, entering a garden. I stopped short suddenly, looking around at the plainness of it. I was surprised that in a place magnificently beautiful there would be something ... simple. It seemed wrong.

  To my left though was a small garden cart, laden with all the tools and bulbs I would need to turn this place into a certified Eden.

  Immediately I imagined what I would be able to do with this space. Back home, I had been allotted a small section of the front garden to tend to as my own. Now I had an entire field. My mind ran wild with possibilities. I liked the idea of having a place to come to and lose myself in work.

  But I had other plans for now and I knew this place would wait for me. I could feel inside me that I would easily be able to find it again and again if I wanted it. refocusing myself I crossed through the grounds, taking in the simple flowers that were already there before starting to pick a few and putting together a small bouquet for the boy’s room.

  Flowers were a girly kind of thing, and a part of me figured he wouldn’t appreciate them that much. But his place was dreary I couldn’t imagine someone coming back to full health in a location that reminded me of death.

  When I was happy with what I had picked, I returned through the door and reentered the hallway outside of his room. I let myself in again and went toward the kitchen, looking for a vase to store the flowers in.

  I padded softly into his room, his face illuminated by the candle, but he was sound asleep. He looked a little more peaceful now, and the room was a little bit warmer with the candle burning. I set the flowers down behind the small collection I had been gathering on his side table before turning and going back out into the main room.

  I found the original drawer I had used and thought about another candle or ten and opened the drawer pleased to see it had worked. Carrying them all back into his room I set about lighting them all and placing them around the room it would heat up a little bit more. He was shivering, that had to mean he was cold, this would help.

  I wanted to help.

  He muttered something again, “I’m sorry... No! I’m sorry, please... listen...” I stopped, clutching a candle tightly as I turned to look at him, watching his dream unfold. “I can make it right, let me try. I’ll do anything, anything you want. say whatever it is you need...” I found myself frowning as I watched him more, finally setting the candle down and moving over to his side once again.

  I grabbed the cloth from his forehead and unfolded it before refolding it with the cold side out. I set it down on his forehead again and shushed him softly.

  “It’s okay, you’re okay...” I whi
spered, brushing my fingers tenderly along his cheek. “You’re safe. You need to rest...” He settled a bit, but I could still see something was haunting him behind those eyelids, something I would never understand.

  But I knew about demons, I certainly had my own under lock and key.

  After standing there for a little while watching him sleep restlessly, I finally drew my hand away from his forehead and turned back to the apartment. I hoped he got better; I could only pray he made a full recovery. But when I prayed now, did I pray to myself?

  I frowned as I thought about the logistics of my faith while moving toward the door. I stopped suddenly as Atlas came through as I was trying to leave.

  “Valentina.” He said with little surprise in his voice.

  “Hi. I was... I saw you bring him in; I wanted to make sure he was okay. I gave him some food and water.” I spoke quickly, wanting desperately to explain myself to him. I didn’t want him to think I was some weirdo or something.

  “Of course,” he nodded his head slightly with a smile. That was it?

  “Uh, Atlas... What’s wrong with him?” I asked softly, glancing over my shoulder as if afraid he was going to be awake and watching me.

  “He’s been through a lot. He’s sick.”

  “I can tell...” I said swiftly, immediately feeling sorry for being sharp. “I mean, precisely... What’s wrong with him?”

  “He’s going through withdrawal.” “Of alcohol?”

  “And drugs.” He said solemnly and I frowned, looking over my shoulder again before nodding.

  “I brought him flowers to liven up the place. I don’t think anyone can get better in a room that looks like death.” Atlas smiled sadly at me but didn’t reply.

  I took this as my cue to leave and as I was passing him he finally spoke, “Thank you Valentina.”