The Modern Gods Read online

  The Modern Gods

  Book 1

  C. M. Thorne

  The Modern Gods

  C. M. Thorne

  Copyright © 2019 by C. M. Thorne. All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. No part of this eBook may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without written permission from the author.

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copywright Page

  Prologue: A Break in the Flow

  Chapter 1: Tears of Wisdom

  Chapter 2: When Lightning Strikes

  Chapter 3: Newfound Strength

  Chapter 4: Rekindling the Fires of Old

  Chapter 5: Wanderer of the Sea

  Chapter 6: A Different Kind of Voodoo Queen

  Chapter 7: Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes

  Chapter 8: A Brand New Sister

  Chapter 9: the Deeds of the Son

  Chapter 10: the First Supper

  Chapter 11: Ceremony of Spring

  Chapter 12: Istanbul was Constantinople

  Chapter 13: Retail Therapy

  Chapter 14: House at the Crossroads

  Chapter 15: Brothers and Sisters

  Chapter 16: Peering through the Well

  Chapter 17: Vision from the Past

  Chapter 18: A Call to Home

  Chapter 19: Souls to the Afterlife

  Chapter 20: the Other New Family

  Epilogue: Blood in the Sky

  PROLOGUE: A BREAK IN THE FLOW

  THE FOG HAD rolled in early from the waters of the San Francisco bay, long before the sun could be bothered to lazily pull itself up over the horizon. Sibyl had been at work since the first fluffy white fingers of the fog had wound their way in off the Wharf to wrap around the great building of the bakery. The sun was now desperately trying to banish the cool, misty weather as Sibyl was steadily kneading away at some dough for another loaf of sourdough. She knew it was ready by feel and smell. The fresh, yet astringent scent and the smooth and slightly tacky feel told her to toss the loaf onto the pan and set to work on more dough. Her first batch was already in the ovens, the air rapidly growing sweet, warm, and faintly vinegary. It was a comfort to her now after several years at the bakery.

  The energy of the city began to rise outside, thousands of its inhabitants beginning to wake, and Sibyl took a deep breath. The flow of life, of the energy in all things, was always present. Moving around her, through her. It never stopped. After so many years, she was quite used to it all, working away and letting the power quiet, falling into a steady hum all around her.

  She was content to go on this way, closed off from using her power. As pressed her palm into the dough, a sudden pain ripped through her body. Catching her by surprise, she gasped, air rushing out of her very human form, making her nearly fall over. She could not help but reach out with her power, out through the flowing energy all around her and felt for the source of the attack. The pain worsened, starting at her heart and slicing hot and red down throughout her limbs.

  “Apollo.” His name passed through her lips softly, as she sucked in a shallow, ragged breath. She felt his life slip away, the sun dimming outside at his passing.

  She had always been able to feel her children, all of her children. They sang out to her the loudest through the swirling, seemingly chaotic energy of life. Any deity with a drop of her own divine blood running through her veins was connected to her. It was her gift, above all others. It was also her curse.

  For she was Rhea, the Titaness of fertility and motherhood. The Titaness of generations and, most importantly, the flow of all things. She was responsible for shepherding that flow, ensuring it unimpeded movement down through the ages. It was the source of her authority, her power over her many sisters and even many of her brothers. Most of her brothers. The only one stronger than Rhea was her husband, Cronus. He was the reason she had turned a blind-eyes to a grievous disruption in the flow.

  A greater pain swelled, more intense, like a massive, sharp claw ripping through her body. This was one of her children, beyond a doubt, their life slipping away violently. She had carried each of her children in her own womb, like any human mother would. Perhaps that was what gave her such reactions, carrying her own children unlike so many other deities. She still ached whenever another child was brought into existence, and their deaths sent shockwaves through her body. She had never felt the death of one of her children before, but this feeling was unmistakable. Her vision went white as she fell to the floor, curling up around herself and clutching at her screaming stomach.

  She had felt a fraction of this pain before, when she had abandoned her responsibilities for the sake of her husband, to avoid his downfall. To hinder the fate that he had brought upon their own father, she had allowed the flow to stop, to render their children apart, to consume them out of fear. And for what? Had it been for love? She could hardly remember what that love had been. She had now spent thousands upon thousands of years alone. Cronus was serving his eternal punishment in an impenetrable prison, and she was hiding amongst humans. Hiding from her children.

  Would they still desire her punishment? She had not exactly sided against them, but she had not sided with them either. They had moved to overthrow her husband’s tyrannical rule, dividing the gods and sparking a great war. She could still feel the rumbling of Mount Orthys in her bones, as her children had stormed up to defeat her brothers. She had not moved to aid or thwart either side, sitting on her throne and weeping. She had known since the night that she had planted her feet on the earth and reached up toward the heavens, beseeching her mother and father for an answer, that the day would come. She had brought it all about, in fact.

  Belly swollen with her sixth and last child, her mother had told her to prevent the child from being devoured, even if it meant losing everything else she held dear. Her father had foretold that the child would grow more powerful than any of his forebears and that his survival was paramount. And so, Rhea had done what was required to start the flow anew.

  The sky outside darkened as she exhaled slowly, shortly before lightning lit up the city, thunder rumbling, and shaking the buildings of the metropolis. Her youngest to be born, eldest on the earth was fading from existence. Zeus! She cried out with her mind as the sky continued to erupt, cracking and booming with terrible thunder. Sibyl clutched her stomach, at her womb, tears uncontrollably welling up and spilling down her cheeks. Her whole body felt like she was being torn apart, white hot pain searing through her veins. She wanted to let go once more, dissolving into the energy around her, but something stopped her.

  Matt, one of her coworkers, came into the room with an empty try to grab some bread from the oven. “Crazy weather this mo-” He stopped himself at seeing her on the ground, tray clattering onto the nearby counter as he moved to kneel at her side. Concern stained his raising tone, “Are you alright, Sibyl?! What’s wrong? What’s going on?”

  She turned to choke out some kind of response, but the pain had spread throughout her body. Her son was dying slowly, clutching onto the last shreds of life. Rhea wished she could let go of her form, remerging with her son to try to save his life. If she did that, she would being killing poor mortal Matt. Letting go, releasing that much energy, might kill the mortal anyway. He was too close to her. She had sworn long ago to not harm a mortal. This was their world as much as it was any of theirs. The gods stepped back long ago as their worship faded.

  The sky continued to lament the impending death of her son as she felt his life drain away. Rhea pushed herself
up to her hands and knees, pushing Matt back with too much of her strength. He flew across the room, crashing into the rolling racks of baked goods. Rhea tried to look at him to see if he was alright, but her vision was fuzzy and all light seemed to be blinding. She crawled around the corner out of his line of sight, kicking the door closed. She let go of her form then. Her power stretched outwards throughout existence and she searched for the last remnants of her son’s life. She found him in a palace on a small island in the Mediterranean.

  Her body reformed in the towering, open aired courtyard at the center of the palace. Apollo lay dead at her feet in the shallow water of the pond filling the space of the courtyard, like an ancient Roman villa. His gleaming, flaxen curls fell around his bright, smooth face and his empty, glazed over piercing blue eyes, which now stared off into nothing. She choked down a sob and looked away from his body. The sky erupted with lightning and thunder here as well, pulling her attention to the thought of her son.

  Zeus was splayed on the dais in the center of the pond, a shimmering, glowing sword sticking out of his chest. Thick blue ichor, the blood of the gods, had soaked his clothes and diluted the water. She collapsed at his side, taking his head into her arms. His silvery white hair was cropped close, matched by his trimmed beard. The silver flecks of his storm gray eyes dimmed as they lazily searched Rhea’s face.

  “Mother?” Zeus choked out.

  “Yes, my love,” Rhea tried to collect her power as she answered him, “I am here. I will save you.”

  His eyes rolled around, “It is too late. I feel it now. I-, I-”

  “Let me try, son,” Rhea splayed her hands over his chest, but she had not used her power in so long. Releasing and reconstituting her form had already taken its toll on her. She was weak. “I just have not allowed myself to use my powers. I am too weak.” Tears rolled down her face. “I am sorry!” She choked on the last word.

  “I-, it-, its fine, mother,” Zeus’ eyes closed. “You must help her. She needs to collect the weapons. Some-, someone is killing us. C-, collect…ing power once more.”

  “Athena?” Rhea looked at her son, already knowing that’s who she must help.

  He nodded. “Something is coming. All the gods. All the pantheons. Someone w-, wants to rule again.” He coughed and some dark ichor stained his mouth, rolling out the side of his lips. “Mortals are in danger. Promise me,” he choked again, “pr-, promise me you will do ev-, everything to stop this?”

  Rhea nodded, “Do not worry, my son. I will no longer stand idly by. Forgive me for not being better. I have failed you in so many ways. Forgive me.”

  Zeus mouth grimaced a smile, “I-, I already have.” His eyes could not focus. “Long ago.” He sighed as the last races of his energy and life left his body, sending a massive white bolt of hot lightning up into the sky. The bolt ripped through Rhea’s body and she used every ounce of her power to keep her form together. A boom akin to thunder followed the bolt, decimating the walls of the palace. Rhea let out a cry of pain, unfettering the restraints she kept on her power. The heat of her power flowed out behind the boom of thunder, causing all manner of life to spring forth. The island simultaneously crumpled from the force and then was overtaken by trees, flowers, vines, and numerous other forms of life.

  She felt the other gods power moving towards her long before they showed up. She did not know whether to stay or disappear, but then she remembered her promise to Zeus, to her son. Rhea would not leave. It was time to face her family. She continued to cradle his head and waited for her children to arrive.

  CHAPTER 1: TEARS OF WISDOM

  ADELLA PANAGOS WAS sitting at her glass-topped metal desk in her office, which sat near the top of one of London’s many skyscrapers in Canary Wharf. She watched the River Thames gleam in the light fighting through the heavy cloud cover drifting over the humming city. It was her city, one of many she more or less laid claim to. She was the de facto head of the family on earth, long before she had taken the form of Adella. Her father trusted her in all matters, which she had once been proud of. Now, it just meant she did all the legwork, while he sat on the actual throne. She huffed, looking back to her computer and double checking the meeting marked with her sister, Diana. She was late, a constant habit of her younger sibling.

  She ran a hand over her auburn hair absently as she sat back, pulling at her ponytail to tighten the already sleek, severe style. She despised lateness, but there was nothing to do about Diane. Thousands of years had taught her as much. No one changes, not truly. Adella sure hadn’t, not even after centuries among the mortals. She looked back out her windowed wall, trying to think of the last time she had left, the last time she had gone home. She could not recall.

  She had stayed on earth, acting as regent of her father, the almighty Zeus, after he had ended the Old Wars and issued his decree that was respected across all the pantheons. Any deity on the earthy place had to operate genuinely without demanding worship or warring with the other gods. It had not gone over well with some, but Adella enforced her father’s law with a firm hand. Those who disobeyed were punished. Nearly all the gods feared Tartarus. It kept them all in line after Adella followed through, locking up the first offenders in the eternal dark prison.

  Rising out of her chair, Adella smoothed out the faint wrinkles on her pale grey pencil skirt and moved to the window, willing the sun to reach her, to warm her. She did not know why, but she craved for fairer weather as she looked out over the city, feeling a sense of impending doom. “Where are you, sister?” She breathed out, willing her sister to hear her call, even from across the great ocean between them.

  Diane ran their earthly operations from New York, stopping by nearly every day for what should have been business talk, but often dissolved into less than productive chitchat. They had been the best of friends for millennia after all. Neither took a consort, deciding to devote themselves to their father long ago, to staying alive. They would not fade like so many others had done, slipping away from life. No, neither of them would relinquish a fraction of their power and that only strengthened their bond, making them nigh inseparable. They were closest of their many siblings, save for Apollo. The bond the twins shared ran deeper than Adella could ever understand.

  She felt her sister before Diane materialized, slipping out of the energy that flowed all around them, that bound existence together. Adella turned to her sister with a smile as she contained her power that had flared up, revealing her divinity. Diane tossed her head as she smiled, her mahogany brown hair falling perfectly into place with her typical big, loose curls that were reminiscent of 1950’s Hollywood starlets. Her vibrant, lavender blue eyes twinkled as she leveled her gaze with Adella’s and cleared her throat slightly to speak.

  “So,” Diane sighed, moving over to slip down into an oversized chair near the wall of windows. “American operations are running well, I suppose. Nothing negative to report on my end.” She smirked and crossed her legs, running her hands down the crepe material of her sapphire blue pants before lacing her fingers together over her knees. “How about the European front?”

  Something was off. “Fine,” Adella replied, raising an eyebrow as she assessed Diane skeptically. “What aren’t you telling me, sister?”

  Diane shifted, letting go of her knee and tugging at her billowy, white silk blouse as she avoided eye contact. The voice of Adella’s secretary saved her sister, rising out of the speaker of her desk phone with a screech. “Ms. Panagos? Your ten o’clock is here. Shall I send them in?”

  Adella rolled her eyes. “That hardships of being a businesswoman.” She glided over to her desk and hammed the speaker button down as she leaned over, “Thank you, Cecile. I will let you know when to send them in.” She glanced back to her sister. “You aren’t getting out of this so easily. What has happened?”

  She smiled back at her, shaking her head, “It is no-“

  Diane was cut off, her face twisting in confusion and pain. Adella felt it as well, grasping at her chest as p
ain racked through her body. Her sister’s eyes had fogged over, her power pulling her attention to whatever was happening as she let out a scream and slipped out of her chair to the floor. Adella knew the scream would send her secretary running, so she threw out her right arm, power lashing out and sending her granite coffee table fling at the door to barricade it. Cecile’s voice rose from outside the room in worried concern as she pounded at the blocked doors.

  Adella stumbled forward, collapsing at her sister’s side as the pain of one of their family dying coursed through her veins, sharp and cutting deep with angry power. It was not a common pain they experienced, but it was entirely unmistakable. “Who is it?” Adella gasped, moving herself forward to grab at the sides of Diane’s face to pull her attention to her. Her voice was breathing, but high and sharp with pain and panic. “Can you see who it is!”

  Diane’s eyes cleared as she found Adella through the vision that had taken over her, discomfort and agony easing from the creases that had formed in her smooth face. The attack seemed to ebb and Adella was able to catch a full breath as she pulled Diane closer to her.

  Her sister’s eyes widened as she came to further, sorrowful tears welling up and spilling over as her lips trembled. “Apollo,” her voice cracked. “He’s gone.”

  Before Adella could reply, another pain racked through her, causing her to release Diane and fall back. The force of whoever had been attacked now hit her heart, slicing through her veins in hot, violent pain that she was not sure she had ever experienced. It was their father. She knew it beyond a doubt as she writhed on the floor of her cold office. The sky outside crackled with lightning and rumbled with terrible thunder. The whole building seemed to shake as lightning repeatedly struck the Thames and the earth around the city.

  The connection with the father seemed to fade, to release itself from the very core of her being. Adella reached out mentally to feel for the withering traces of Zeus’ life and power as the sky continued to lament and rage for the passing of her father. The fountains of the city rocked and shook at the thunder grew worse and she felt the connection slip further and further away.