A poet must understand words, be comfortable with ambiguity, with misdirection. Where each word must carry itself and the weight of the whole. What do these words you chose evoke, how do they sit beside each other in a mouth (for poems are meant to be read aloud), do they wrestle for space? Do they drip from your lips?
If you cannot convince Alexander Hamilton to be your right-hand man, the war for freedom will be all but lost. Even if America wins the war on Great Britain, it will crumble in on itself if Hamilton should die in battle. The country’s future is in its hand. We cannot allow him to die, lest he take all of us with him.
And that was when I realized I was angry. At myself, at Poseidon, at Atlantis…I was mad at everyone. At the mortals for destroying my seas and forgetting the gods had existed, that I had existed. They would rue the day. Rommel’s eyes grew wide with fear. “Everyone, get out of here. Tell the king his lady is in distress. I fear he may be the only one to bring her out of this.”
So here I am. I will do the rehab like I am supposed to. Shit, I will do anything just as long as they don’t send me back. The room flickers in the next second, her office changing in a blink to the darkened cell of Tartarus and then back.
A shimmer of unease settles in my stomach. Triton loves Atlantis, and it loves him. He must have tried to take control when Trix left and failed. Atlantis knows it’s rulers. The throne will only recognize Trix or I, without us, the Jewel of Atlantis withers. Triton was forced to watch as the home he loved fell into disrepair. Atlantis isn’t like Olympus or the Underworld. It’s alive.
It took me the better part of the morning, but I found her. It looked as though she had been on a shopping spree. She was carrying half a dozen bags. Retail therapy, really? Murder spree, epic fight, sex, and shopping. I shrugged to myself. Yeah, that sounded about right. I didn’t want to interrupt what seemed to be a carefree morning for her. Now that she was out, I had all the time in the world to figure out what she was up to.
She is hesitant to take leave of the titan. She shoots unsure glances at him and then at me, as if trying to make sense of what is happening. Polus leans in and kisses her on the lips. It is a tender kiss. I wasn’t aware that titan’s new such tenderness, with the exception of possibly Selene, but I really don’t know her. He pulls away and nods, a gesture she returns before leaving.
We work silently, and soon the remains of my doors are in the trash, and Atë’s staring at the floor with a strange expression.
Hitting her affectionately on the shoulder, I murmur, “It’s strange, isn’t it?”
Her eyes turn to mine. “What is?”
With a smirk, I ruffle her hair lightly. “Cleaning up your own mess.”
I look at Clio’s great belly, knowing more of us are coming and that they’re gonna need someone. Someone to look to when they feel they’re not good enough, someone to make them feel like even if they screw up and make mistakes…it doesn’t mean they have to go away.
“It was three thousand years ago. I was naked, Dad pissed me off, so I sprinted across the sea to a place named Carthage. Ended up over tilting the scales of some guy named Hannibal, who went on to make something of a name for himself. After that, it’s been a blur of booze and booty.”
I was a bit surprised. Minotaurs were rarely seen in the mortal world anymore. There were small groups in various mountainous regions, but I hadn’t heard reports of them being in Greece in several centuries. Had Alastor recruited some help in his imagined fight with me?
“My mother is a Titan, my father carries a lightning bolt, and my siblings harness powers, good and bad, beyond measure. My family is the balance that fuels the world.”
Smirking, I pad back to bed, placing the golden necklace around Clio’s neck. I lock the clasp before sliding into bed next to her. It is more than just a pretty charm. If she has another episode, it will summon me. And…if I touch my quiver, I can summon her to me, from anywhere in the world.
But that’ll just be our little secret…
Hedone walks forward, lowering to her knees. She gently grabs my hands, her thumb rubbing over my knuckles. “Miteras…what I saw was strength. You came for me, you and Pater. That is great strength.”
New Beginnings 
A Reprimand 
The Secret in Silence, Part III 
Interrogation Doesn’t Break Ice 
Stealing A Moment 
Making a Mark 
When It Hits The Fan 
A Goddess Down 
An Explosive Mystery 
