Pirate Princess

Chapter 13

Athena, Goddess of Wisdom watched Mysteri and her little band of misfits sleep on the outskirts of the White Cap Mountains woods with her Crystal Ball of Knowledge. How frustrating this little girl is to control. I will not be outsmarted by a ragged Pirate, even if she is of royal blood. How to regain control over this situation? Ares failed in his pathetic attempt to claim her as his war queen. Poseidon has her ship and crew in a storm, thus guaranteeing her loyalty to him, or so he hopes. Mysteri is really quite a mystery. There is only one person who can fix this crumbling puzzle, but how to make him see our side of things?

With a burst of red flames, Ares appeared next to the crystal ball in front of Athena. “I’ve sent out seven of my best armies to hunt Mysteri down and lead her astray and away from Mount Olympus” he states, “I hope you know what you are doing. If she, for some reason, gets close to our Mountain all is lost.”

The sound of roaring waves accompanied Poseidon’s entrance. “I still have control of her ship, but for how much longer I can not say. Mysteri has the ocean in her blood.”

Athena stares at them in thought. “Every mortal knows that the royal blood line is full of magic. This is due to us and our lustful relationships with them.” She gives Ares and Poseidon a withering glare. All of the male gods have inherited Zeus’ fascination with mortal women. “If Mysteri finds out she is of this line, then we could all be fighting for our lives. She has no great liking for us, even of you, Poseidon. If we can not control mortals through fear or worship, then our reign as gods is over. Mysteri does not fear us or pray to us for help or forgiveness. She is boisterous about making her own way in this world and that, my dears, is dangerous. We must not underestimate this girl.”

The Gods’ Dungeon was built in the center of a volcano. The cells hung on a chain out over a bottomless pit full of magma. Just by looking between one's feet, one knew that death waited. If the volcano was to erupt, the prisoners would die a searing death. The heat is intense and if the lava didn’t get you, the heat would sear one's lungs. There is a thin walkway that circles around the magma pit, and this is where Hade’s three-headed dog patrolled. Dyce was not the only prisoner hanging above death's gaping jaws. Each and every cage had at least one person inside. Not all were still alive. Several skeletons dangled unnaturally through the bars. The entire place ranks with rot and death. How am I to get out of here? Dyce was not an acrobatic pirate who could nimbly shimmy across the chains hanging out over the chasm. He was a bulky guard patrol officer. He was built strongly and muscular, not swift and small. As Dyce is wallowing in his despair, a beautiful woman breezes past the ferocious dog and searches inside each cage. What or who is she looking for? Finally, she spots Dyce, cowering in the far reaches on his cell. “I am Artemis,” she said, “I have brought you a message that you shall not forget. She is on her way to rescue you. Do not despair, for if you give up hope, she dies.”