but Pallas was not finished.
‘Every night, his liver will grow back
only to be eaten again.’
A long, numb silence followed.
‘Was what he did so awful?’
I asked in a small, trembling voice.
Styx spoke softly, ‘It was not
what he did, but who he did it to.’
Charon’s eyes flashed as he looked up.
‘It was a message for the rest of us.’
‘Charon,’ Pallas warned quietly,
but my friend simply glared.
‘Tell me this is not a message from Zeus?
Tell me that this was not to warn
any Titan who works against an Olympian
that they will be destroyed in the worst way?’
Neither Pallas nor Styx spoke.
And I knew then that the war
may have ended, but Zeus still saw
every single one of us as a threat to his reign.
That Night My Sleep Was Fitful
I dreamed all night of Prometheus,
stealing fire for mortals because
they were cold and hungry and
what father could watch his children
starve? I dreamed of him standing
before Zeus, refusing to beg for mercy,
the God-King ordering him whipped
for every Olympian and Titan to see.
And then it was not Prometheus,
