The goddess, Athena, Zeus’ eldest daughter and an outstanding strategist (or so Kore had heard) turned from her companion as Kore crossed the room. Her incalculable gray eyes watched Kore for a moment. 

Athena’s calm appraisal ended, and the goddess returned to her previous business. 

Two thrones were the focal point of the chamber. The larger of the two resembled an attacking eagle dipped in simmering gold, yet the majesty of the throne didn’t shadow the god who sat in it. 

A goddess claimed the second throne. She looked comfortable amongst the swirling, abstract colors of her seat that, when studied at the right angle, resembled a preening peacock.

Couches had been placed by Zeus’ and Hera’s thrones. On one couch, a pregnant green-tinted goddess tended to the oozing wounds of a second goddess covered in ugly black and purple bruises that hid her skin’s normal flame-nature.

 

Nymphs of all kinds flitted about, ensured the goblets and plates of Zeus and his wife never emptied. Three flower nymphs assisted Demeter with Hestia.

Kore stopped a respectful distance from the gods. 

A wood nymph materialized; a tray of goblets steadied on one bark-encrusted hand. “Would you like a drink, my Lady? I have wine, nectar, j—”

“Wine, please.” 

“Very well, my Lady.” The nymph gave Kore a silver goblet. “Would you like food?” 

“No, the wine will do.” 

“As you wish, my Lady.” 

The nymph bowed and retreated to a space behind Zeus’ throne. 

Kore sipped the wine. The sour bite of grapes didn’t satisfy like the unsuspected tang of pomegranates, but she found the taste more agreeable than the nectar the gods were forced to consume as Gaia’s descendants.

Time dragged. 

The King and Queen of the gods continued to feast. 

As the moment grew more uncomfortable, Hera ceased eating and joined Kore in staring down Zeus. 

More than once, as much as it appeared to pain her, Hestia gestured for her brother’s attention. 

The God King paid his spectators no mind. He supped and flirted with the nymphs. His laughter boomed. 

Kore’s impatience grew the longer she waited. 

She reached her breaking point when Zeus asked a nymph to dance for him. Not bothering with the pretense of ineptness, Kore let go of her goblet. It hit the floor with an earth-shattering clang and sprayed wine in a wide circle around her.

Demeter jumped and knocked the bandages from the nearest nymph’s hands. 

Zeus’ head moved a fraction, so Kore was in his line of sight. 

Two nymphs ran toward Kore, each held a fistful of rags. They dropped to their knees and apologized for the mishap. 

Kore walked past them and approached closer to Zeus’ throne than what was proper. 

The God King shifted in his seat but otherwise appeared calm.

Kore nodded. “Thank you, Lord Zeus, for this audience.” 

“What do you want?” 

Zeus’ disinterested tone couldn’t mask his contempt. Pure disgust radiated from his eyes. He looked so like his father that if the Titan were to sit beside his son, a difference wouldn’t be found between them. 

Kore’s heart sank. 

“You know why I’m here.” 

Zeus chuckled. “How many times do you have to be rejected before you understand? Are all under-dwellers dense, or are you the exception?”

Demeter gasped, and disbelief brightened her deep orange eyes; made them look like polished zincite. 

Hera sighed with disgust, while Hestia said a soft, “Now, Zeus…” 

Athena and the centaur had ceased their discussion and watched: their faces grim. 

Anger pooled in Kore’s stomach, but she held the emotion at bay. Like his father, if Zeus sensed he could distract her by toying with her baser emotions, he would never consider her an equal worth listening to. 

“I don’t see how I’m more thick-headed than someone refusing help.” 

Color rose in Zeus’ cheeks. “We gods don’t need help.” 

Hera covered her husband’s fingers with her hand. “I think we should hear her out this time.” 

“We don’t need help.” 

“From what I understand, that isn’t true,” Kore said. 

Zeus waved away her words. “Silly rumors are all they are.” 

“Why won’t you accept my aid? I have an army unlike you can imagine. If our power combines, no one will stand above us.” 

“You can’t be trusted.” 

Kore’s surprise was reflected in Zeus’ sisters’ faces. “I can’t be trusted?”

“No.” 

“How so?” 

“Your lineage makes you suspect.” 

“My lineage is suspect?” A wicked laugh escaped Kore. “This coming from the son of the cosmos’ worst tyrant.” 

“I wasn’t forged from evil.” 

“Is that what you tell yourself?” Kore pondered. 

She met the startled expressions of Zeus’ sisters; focused heavily on Hestia. “Have you not told him?” Kore looked back at Zeus before she received an answer. “Despite their silence, you have no excuse. The stories of your father’s antics reached my ears long before you were born.”

Storm clouds gathered in Zeus’ eyes, and a flash of lightning crossed each pupil. “You will not speak to me like this in my court.” 

“Says the fool about to lose everything.”

“I’m a fool?” 

Zeus jumped from his throne, a lightning bolt in his left hand. It crackled and gave off a ferocious light that hurt to stare at too long. A sharp, powerful scent filled the room. 

Zeus held the lightning bolt so close to his wife, she slinked out of her seat to avoid getting burned. 

Kore’s back straightened as her thin veil of control snapped. As her anger rose, she emitted a fine black mist. 

Several nymphs squealed and ran from the room. 

One was a flower nymph, and she took the salve Demeter had been putting on Hestia’s wounds. 

Demeter yelled for the nymph to return, but when threats didn’t garner compliance, she took after the frightened creature.

The mist flooded the floor. 

From the corner of her eye, Kore saw the centaur trot out of the throne room. Athena remained firmly in place, though the mist blistered her ankles.

“Please, both of you, remain calm,” Hestia said. With the help of the other two flower nymphs, Hestia stood and approached Zeus. She rested a hand on his forearm. 

He sneered at her but didn’t jerk away from her touch. “I will not be insulted in my home.”

“But you—” 

“Enough,” Kore said, and Hestia swallowed the rest of her words. 

The Daemon Queen closed the distance between her and the God King. 

Zeus placed his bolt before him, but Kore knocked it aside. It flew from his hand, and just missed a nymph. 

Kore gripped Zeus’ throat and lifted him from the ground; ignored her body’s agony that had increased tenfold with her fury. He didn’t struggle, though fear had crept into his expression.

All of Kore’s mist wrapped around Zeus and made a scorching barrier between him and anyone who wished to protect him. 

No one did, though, not even his loyal daughter. All watched their king, and Kore was sure she could kill him if she chose and would receive little repercussion. 

“You forget who you stands before you, child.” Kore’s voice had lost its rough, pleasant quality. It echoed with the strength and power to rouse armies, to topple the very heavens. “I come here with nothing but good intent, and you insult and threaten me. Yes, Zeus, you are a fool. One of the greatest the universe has ever known.” 

Zeus’ gaze bored into hers. 

Where he pulled his idiotic bravery from, Kore couldn’t guess. But it enraged her more. 

“Put me down. I don’t like being touched by filth.” 

Kore’s fingers flexed and tightened around his windpipe; she felt his every erratic heartbeat. The mist pulsed, and large, red welts appeared on Zeus’ exposed skin. 

He paled, but his defiance stayed firm. 

This piss-poor example of a king deserved death for his insolence. The gods’ endeavor may have a higher chance of success without him. 

Yet Kore didn’t end his sorry existence. While Zeus had earned his demise, justice would be better served if he lost his life to Cronus.

Kore released Zeus, and the mist absorbed into Kore’s body.

The God King stumbled back into his throne, collapsed against it like a winded elder. 

Still, no one rushed to his side. 

“You will fail,” Kore told him. She glanced at every goddess. “I’m sorry you’ve aligned yourselves with this imprudent child. May your deaths be quick.” 

The Daemon Queen spun on her heel and marched across the throne room. She pushed open the doors and came face-to-face with a tall, lithe god. Blood splattered his long brown-blond hair. 

Surprise widened his fathomless, shiny black eyes. 

“My Lady, I—” 

“Move!” 

The god complied, and Kore strode past.

She was through with the gods. Through with caring about the Upperworld’s fate.