Discord's Apple

Sinon’s eyes widened in panic. He scrambled away. No one could fault him for turning tail and running. Despite his massive form, Ares moved with the speed of a hawk, his arm flying to swipe at Sinon. He struck, and Sinon rolled across the mat and into the base of a set of marble stairs. He saw stars for a moment and shook the dizziness away. Ares didn’t rest, but came at him, arms reaching.

Scurrying on all fours, Sinon raced forward, between the giant’s legs. He spun at the last moment and slammed into the backs of his knees. As he hoped, the knees buckled and Ares fell, but once again Sinon underestimated the giant’s speed. On his knees, Ares turned and grabbed Sinon. His breath slammed out of his lungs as Ares lifted him.

So much for not getting caught.

Ares squeezed, his fingers twisting Sinon’s body. Sinon winced, unable to struggle free of the tightening pressure. Then a crack echoed, and his body turned into searing fire. That was his back breaking.

Ares dropped him. He rolled and lay still, every nerve in his body writhing with pins and needles of pain. In a few moments the pain went away, replaced by a hot, thick rush, like boiling honey flowing down his back as the bones of his spine healed. He lay there a moment, trying to still his breathing, not sure if he could stand. But he could, and he did, as if it hadn’t happened.

He gazed over a silent courtyard and tried to wear a mask of indifference, as if none of it mattered. But he could feel how pale and cold his face was, and his hands were shaking.

“I won,” Ares said. With a discharge of light, he returned to his original size.

“But you had to cheat to do it,” Apollo said. “I think I’ve proved my point.”

“I’ll fight you next!” Ares pointed at the Sun God.

“Ares!” A luminous woman reclining on a bench called to the god. “Come here, darling. You’re ruining the mood.” Aphrodite reached a perfect, graceful arm to him. No one could refuse such a command, not even a god. Ares bowed to her and returned to his place at her feet.

Apollo stood at the top of the steps, appearing cheerful again. “Find your pitcher, Sinon, and serve my guests.”

“Yes, my lord,” he whispered, his voice still shaking. He climbed the steps to where he had left the gold pitcher of wine. He moved slowly, letting his strength return. He hoped his hands stopped trembling soon.

When he was next to Apollo, the god whispered to him. “I’m sorry for that. I’ll make it up to you.”

That meant a visit from the nereid in the pool, or a journey away from the Palace—to the coast, perhaps, or to a forest where they could hunt. Or a full day on his own, with no duties to perform and no harassments from any gods.

Sinon closed his eyes and nodded, unable to speak. If he opened his mouth, he’d yell, and if he yelled at Apollo in front of the others, the Sun God would never leave him in peace.

The festive mood returned soon enough.

“Wherever did you find him?” Aphrodite said, watching Sinon.

“He’s a souvenir I took from Troy. A genuine Achaean warrior. In

fact, he’s the fellow who talked the Trojans into bringing that wretched horse into the city. You wouldn’t think him capable of possessing the wit to pull off a trick like that, just looking at him, would you?”

“Indeed. Looks and wit. I might find a way to buy him from you.” Aphrodite sipped thoughtfully from a goblet. As Sinon felt her studying him, a chill ran along his skin. He kept his eyes downcast to hide his frustration, his resignation. He waited by a column, naked and decorative, until the next guest needed a goblet filled.

“He’s not for sale.”

She licked wine-dampened lips. “Oh, everything’s for sale.”

“Why do we do it?” This came from Hermes, who made an unlikely perch on a giant urn, balancing birdlike on the rim.

“Do what?” said Apollo.

“Keep souvenirs of that war? Nobody was happy with how it turned out. It’s been over for—for I don’t know how many years—”

How many years? Sinon desperately hoped he’d give a number, to mark the time. But he didn’t.

“—and we still find little else to talk about. I’ve never seen this family so passionate about anything. The reminders of it are everywhere.” He glanced at Sinon, who tried not to notice. “Why is that, do you think?”

Apollo huffed. “Who knows? It’s not like we couldn’t orchestrate the destruction of a civilization anytime we wanted.”

Conversations stilled as the gathering paused to listen. Another said, “That’s not it. This one got away from us—the mortals kept doing things we didn’t plan for.”

A woman in the back said, “That’s true. They fascinate us so, don’t they?”