Far above in the sky beyond mortal reach lies mighty Olympus. It was a day of great celebration and feasting. The nymphs danced and performed acrobatics while holding platters. They carried heaping piles of cheese and grapes and delicate meats to accompany the flowing ambrosia. The music resonated evenly as though the mountain itself hummed along. Such fragrant clouds drift lazily through the enchanted garden. Yet the queen of the Gods was still not happy.

  Hera did not show it before the crowd of Gods and beasts assembled. She smiled and nodded as she lowered Zeus’ crown onto Poseidon’s green dreaded hair.

  “Poseidon is King of the Gods, until Zeus returns!” Hera announced.

  The crowd cheered wildly, for the most part. Hera pulled one of the serving nymphs aside and whispered in her ear. The nymph Meliae had budding flowers in her hair which seemed to wilt as Hera held her. They sprang to life again as the nymph darted away through the cheering crowd. The nymphs moved through the crowd and noticed everyone who did not cheer for the new King, whispering their names between them before returning to Hera.

  Poseidon stood and raised both arms triumphantly into the air. In one hand he clutched Apollo’s sword, and in the other the trident that killed him. Hera pursed her lips but said nothing. She would bide her time until they were alone.

  The partying and festivities surely had several hurricanes, and perhaps a volcano, named after them in the mortal world. Hera followed behind Poseidon as he wandered to and fro, laughing and drinking and boasting of what he would do. She made sure to always be the first to laugh when he joked, and the first to refill his drinking horn with ambrosia when it was empty. She waited until the new King of the Gods drooped with exhaustion beside the endless bonfire. It was getting dark now beyond the protective halo of flame. She helped Poseidon steady himself on a log next to the fire, and Hera sat there beside him.

  “The crown suits you. I know a mother shouldn’t say, but I have always hoped you would win the tournament and rule the Gods,” Hera cooed.

  “Yuh huh? Why?” Poseidon grunted.

  “There’s something very clean about the sea. The great purifier, the great cleanser, that’s who you will be. Even here at the palace in our most private sanctuary, you would be surprised to know how many of the company have mortal blood in their veins. The long years living beside mortals has dirtied us. Where once they tried to emulate our image, now it is us becoming more like them. But you will defend the Gods, and not betray us for mortals or titans. Now that you’re king, you must know that they plot against us.”

  Poseidon laughed. “Ignore the mortals, mother. Does the sea change its waves for the ships? They are no threat to us.”

  “Just like Apollo was no threat to you when you killed him? Don’t you think that battle was a little too easy? He didn’t even protest about not having his sword! He didn’t defend or parry the first blow.”

  The sea God became angry. “I beat him fair. He wanted the crown more than anything. He was ready to die for it.”

  “But he did not want it more than anyone,” Hera whispered conspiratorially. She wrapped an arm around Poseidon’s shoulders and drew his ear close. “"You think mortals are not dangerous? You forget their faces and words and touch can change the heart of the Gods. That is a deadly weapon indeed. Apollo wanted one thing more than the crown: he is pursuing the mortal woman named Cora. He knew I would not allow them to be together, and so only pretended to die so he could shirk his responsibilities, refuse your orders, and satisfy his lust in hiding.”

  Poseidon’s flame snuffed out into boiling steam. He sighed to release it. “You may be right. Apollo did not protect himself in battle like he did in practice. I found little resistance in my victory.” His jaw tightened. “You will keep this secret, mother. I would not have my authority questioned because of it.”

  “Of course, great King. I would not have even the fish laughing at you. After-all, if the other Gods did not think you won the tournament fairly, then any of them might challenge you. Can you imagine Zeus returning at last to find you no longer with a crown, or his palace burning for the struggle between Gods? He would be so ashamed of you. You’d be lucky to be the God of puddles after that.”

  Poseidon began to fume again. “Today is a celebration! Why do you speak such evil thoughts?”

  “Only to prevent them, dear. I will keep your secret, although I would not count on Apollo doing the same. When he next appears the other Gods will know the game was rigged. We will have to find him first and make sure that never happens.”

  “What for? Cora is a beautiful woman. He will keep him busy for a long time. Let him have his fun, and be out of our way. Zeus may return before him.”

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  Poseidon laughed loudly, relieved to have the matter settled.

  “Poor innocent child,” Hera cooed. She tried to rock him, but Poseidon shook her off. “I have more experience with mortals than you do. How many float down into the depths of your ocean? I know how greedy their hearts are, and how much they envy our power. It always goes the same way, a story as old as time. First the woman acts like the animal she is, base and sensual. She wakes the animal spirit within the God and tricks him to loving her. The love of a God should be the greatest blessing in the world, but it is never enough for them. Soon she will be consumed by jealousy to keep her God. She will convince herself she must become a Goddess to do so, and then she turns her God against his own kind.”

  Poseidon shook his head. “Apollo is defeated. He did not even want to be King anymore. He will not return.”

  “Apollo will not return for his pride,” Hera insisted. “But he will return when his love begs him to.”

  “Apollo is wise, even in his defeat. He would never.”

  “How fares wisdom when one is in love? Was it wise for him to give up a chance at being King for a bestial affair? You must heed my warning, Poseidon! If you let them be, it will only end in revolution against your rule!”

  Poseidon’s tangled green beard drooped all the way to scrape the ground. He was getting tired from the party and the drink. He would need help to see the true danger. Hera picked up the end of his beard and stood, leading Poseidon gently to his feet.

  “Come with me, and I will show you proof of Apollo’s treachery.”

  Poseidon became more alert as he became more suspicious. He plodded after Hera through the slowing festivities. Only a few dancers remained, picking their way through resting or sleeping forms on the ground like the survivors of a battle. The music was low and rhythmic, lulling Poseidon into something like a trance. How much of the ambrosia did he drink? He vaguely remembered claiming to the satyrs that he could drink a lake.

  Hera brought Poseidon through the marble halls, out the other side to her cliff edge overlooking their domain. Poseidon breathed deeply of the sea breeze wafting up from the water around the mountain. He would never be able to rule from here. He needed to be back in his own kingdom below.

  “Your lady calls,” Hera shouted into the dark.

  The feathered shapes dropped from the sky like black lightning. They giggled shrilly as they hopped about the rocks. Three harpies perched around Poseidon, who turned uneasily between them.

  “Hail the King!” one harpy shrieked. The others mimicked the terrible sound, although the words were lost.

  “Father didn’t like these things, did he? Evil creatures.” Poseidon took a few steps back so he could keep all three of them in his sights.

  “Zeus is gone. You are King now. Do not forget it. Your crown can be taken from you as easily as it was given. I have set my servants on the mortal to send her home. I let her live, and how does she repay?” Then turning from Poseidon to the harpies, Hera continued. “Does she make a shrine and worship me? Or does she scheme against me, the wretched thing? Tell us what your spying eyes have found.”

  “The girl Cora is where we left her in the mortal world. We do not see Apollo anywhere,” one harpy replied.

  “That is where she belongs. Let her be,” Poseidon protested.

  Hera stepped in front of him. She held a hand up to his mouth. To the harpies, she snapped. “I knew that already. You saw nothing new?”

  “Not seen, but heard.” Nictate hopped free from the others. She grinned evily and fluttered her feathers, seeming to enjoy the attention. “It is as you fear, my lady. The mortal plots against you.”

  Poseidon laughed. “How many have tried before?”

  “Go on,” Hera said in an encouraging voice. She sounded like she was trying to convince a toddler to eat his dinner. “Tell us what the bad mortal said.”

  Nictate cleared its throat like a foul tempered garbage disposal. Then in a falsetto mockery of Cora’s voice, she recited word for word:

  “I dreamed Apollo would take me away to be queen of the Gods.”

  “Ahh!” Hera screeched. She threw her head back and clutched at her heart as though she’d been stabbed. “What did I tell you would happen? She will only become queen of the Gods when Apollo becomes King and I am gone. If you think he will say no to her, then you do not know Apollo, and you do not know love.”

  “Treachery,” Poseidon muttered darkly. “I was wrong about the harpies. Lovely creatures, to keep an eye and an ear to everything. I do need better servants to watch my kingdom above the water.”

  “Then you agree. Apollo is a threat.”

  Poseidon nodded. “What would you have me do about it?”

  “Apollo will never forgive either of us, you know. You for taking his crown, me for taking his love. If you made a mistake, it was not killing him properly the first time.”

  Poseidon was shocked. He looked suspiciously at the harpies, then back at the fires and festivities behind.

  “Bastard son of a titan. He was never one of us,” Hera coaxed.

  “Leave us harpies! I wish to discuss this privately,” Poseidon ordered. He waved his arm imperiously at them, but they only hopped around and squawked bitterly. “Your King commands it!”

  Still the harpies stayed until Hera quickly added: “Begone. Follow Cora, wait for Apollo, report to me. He will not be able to resist her for long.”

  Poseidon waited until the harpies circled into the air and disappeared over the palace. Then he turned to his mother and asked: “What other choices do we have besides killing him?”

  “There is no other way.” Hera sighed and flung the back of her dramatic hand to her forehead. “With any other God, perhaps we could imprison them or strike a deal. But Apollo works in prophecies whose end we cannot predict. If he has set his heart with our enemies, then all our victories will be nothing but stepping stones to our defeat. He will trick us again, just like when he pretended to be defeated in the tournament. Your crown will not be safe until he is dead.”

  Poseidon nodded. “I defeated him once. I will defeat him again. Tell me your plan, and I will see it through.”

  “He let you win once!” Hera snapped sharply. “Victory is won the night before the battle. You will prepare the arena to ensure your victory. We will lay traps for Apollo when he next appears to Cora. When he is most distracted by his lust, he will pay the price for his greed.”

  “The King will see it done,” Poseidon said.