Cora was the crest upon the waves, breaking and reforming again by the moment. She clung desperately to Apollo, her arms locked around his marble neck as he rose through the water. Powerful strokes of his legs propelled them, while his arms hung limp at his side, unsure and clumsy with the girl. Cora allowed herself to press her body against the God, wrapping her legs around his midsection to ensure her grip. His warmth was hope, and she clung to him as she clung to life itself, lost in those dark waters.
They were headed back towards the ship which tossed treacherously upon the waves nearby. The tempest was all about them now, raising the waves into towering mountains before hurling them to shatter in endless violence. Yet the night sky above was unmasked and brilliant, the moon undisturbed by cloud or storm. It was as though the water moved with will of its own, or that of Poseidon, who sought to drag them down into his domain.
“You can’t take me back there!” Cora protested, as soon as she could get a mouthful of air.
“You will be safe on the boat while I finish my business with Poseidon,” Apollo replied curtly.
“No I won’t! I only fell into the ocean in the first place because I was fleeing for my life!”
Apollo hesitated. He turned from his course and looked at Cora, his face only inches from hers. His breath was warm against her freezing skin: an unfamiliar scent of far off worlds intoxicating amidst the salt. They were so close in that stolen moment, but so far away too, as he seemed to be looking into the distance over the horizon even as he looked at her. No more than several seconds could have passed, but the tension of the connection was too much for her to bear. She bit her lip and turned away, fumbling for the words which might stay her return another moment.
“I was a prisoner on the boat,” Cora said. Half truth, and half a lie. But it gave her an idea to continue with: “I was a prisoner, on my way to jail. If you take me back there, I’m going to be locked up for the rest of my life!”
Okay so that wasn’t true. But the idea of living with her aunt certainly felt that way. By the time she found the courage to look at his face again, he had already turned away to search the dark horizon.
“I will take you to the shore,” Apollo conceded. “I do not want you involved in this dispute.”
“Not good enough! They’ll find me! You have to take me where my father’s men won’t think to look. Somewhere they wouldn’t find in a million years.”
“Mount Olympus?” Apollo mused.
“Absolutely what I was thinking.” Go for it, girl, she thought. When else would you get the chance?
“Absolutely not.” Apollo arched his eyebrows, cold against the moonlight. “Mortals are strictly forbidden. Hera insisted after an incident with Zeus.”
Cora made a mental note to find out more about that incident, and perhaps congratulate the cause of it. She was surprised to find herself so accepting of the idea of ancient Gods still living in hidden places of the world. But of course, after a night like this, it would be madness to think anything else. She could tell Apollo was headed towards the shore now, although his intentions beyond were inscrutable.
“Haven’t you ever done something you’re not supposed to?” Cora asked amidst the stinging salt.
“Is that the reason they are putting you in jail?”
Cora fumbled, forgetting for a moment she was a criminal in this story. Flustered, she shot back: “Why are you and Poseidon fighting? Are you telling me that there’s something shameful about saving a girl from drowning, but nothing shameful about fighting your brother?”
“The Gods are just as petty as men.” Apollo chuckled. A ghost of his smile lingered on his hard features. She watched it fade like a ripple in the water. A haunted look came over his face, dwelling on a past best left buried.
“What do you have buried?” Cora barely breathes the words, not expecting Apollo to turn his head. The ripple of his smile came and went.
“Who are you to wish to be involved with Gods?” Apollo asked. “Tonight should have been enough warning for how dangerous that can be.”
“I’m Cora.”
“An answer fitting a mortal: shallow and empty.”
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The shore was getting closer. Numb with cold, chest burning for air, throat raw and parched from the salt, limbs aching to the point of dropping off, Cora wished the journey would never end.
“I’m Cora,” she repeated, stubbornly furrowing her brow. “That means something to the people who know me.” In a moment she summoned a thousand pleasant lies, making herself a noblewoman, or a bandit queen, or anything else to make her seem more interesting than she was. But he was looking at her again, curiosity lighting his eyes, steel gray in the darkness. Wonder opened his face and softened his features as though seeing her again for the first time. She could not lie to him and steal that wonder.
“I make a lot of mistakes,” Cora said, resting her head against Apollo’s shoulder as he swam. “I’m not graceful. I tripped half the class trying to learn how to dance. And I wanted to be a musician, but I could never keep the rhythm. And I wanted to love myself, but somehow I couldn’t, and so let someone else tell me they loved me instead. I thought I wasn’t good for anything, until someone came along and told me I was good for him. And then I thought I needed him, even though he wasn’t good to me, because I wasn’t good for anything else. I give my heart away like it costs me nothing, and I’m still paying off my mistakes. So if you want to know who I am, then you will know me by the ones who hurt me, know me by my father who wanted to get rid of me, and know me by the love I have to give. I’m Cora: the girl who is starting again in the most unusual way. The one who holds onto what’s beautiful in life for as long as there is strength left in me. Mortals are not so simple that you will find a shortcut to understanding who a person is.”
They arrived now on shore. Cora reluctantly undid the lock of her fingers behind Apollo’s back. She staggered on frozen numb legs from the shallow water to the sand, tripping as an unseen wave swelled behind her. Apollo caught her by the arm, wrapping his own arm around her to support her until they were clear of the waves. Then kneeling beside her, he guided her to rest on the ground, effortlessly holding the weight of her body as he lowered her into the dry sand. He remained leaning above her, his hands dug into the sand on either side of her, staring down.
“Who are you?” she asked breathlessly.
“I’m Apollo. You know that already.”
Cora shook her head.
Apollo sighed and allowed himself to collapse into the sand beside her. He took a double fistful of little shells and flung them into the air, scattering them into the moonlight.
“That’s me. The seashells.”
Cora giggled, unsure whether he was trying to answer, or making fun of her.
“Washed up on a beach where I don’t belong,” Apollo continued. “An empty shell, once full of life, now hollow on an alien world. And so what if I fight with my brother? We are rivals, it is no wonder that we would be at each other’s throats. But it’s been worse ever since Poseidon cheated in a competition for my father’s favor. I would have had my revenge tonight and proved how he was a cheat, if I hadn’t stopped my chase to save you.”
“What would you have done if you caught him?”
Apollo laughed: warm, real mirth which sounded too human for the cold exterior he portrayed. “How should I know? No more I know what to do with you, now that I’ve caught you in my net.”
“You should have let me drown,” she teased, and he laughed again. “Why did you save me, if you think so little of the mortal world?” Cora pressed.
“I didn’t know mortals were…” His voice trailed off. Did the God blush? Apollo sat up abruptly, and she couldn’t tell for sure. He rapidly dusted the sand from his muscular frame. Flexible and swift, with a motion that could have driven a spear through a man’s chest, Apollo beat at his body with unexpected savagery until the sand fell away.
“You’re right,” he said, his voice cold once more. “I have no business with mortals. I will not meddle anymore.”
“Take me to Olympus, and then you can be done with me if you want,” Cora said indignantly.
“You will not like it there.”
“I like it more than here already.”
“The nymphs will be cruel to you.”
“And you’ve been so kind?”
“I saved your life.”
“Not yet, you haven’t.” Cora was on her feet now, facing his curt remarks without flinching. “Do you really think of yourself as some selfless hero? If you leave now, then I’ll be captured again, and you might as well have let me drown.”
“So?” he growled. “Mortals have an end. Sooner or later, you’ll be gone either way. Who will care?”
“You’ll care. You didn’t save me for me, you saved me for you. Because you saw something in me that you won’t easily forget.”
“Maybe there’s something beautiful about a mortal fighting for their life, in a way the Gods never do,” Apollo admitted. “If Gods ever had a weakness, it is for beauty.”
“Will you be happier with yourself knowing I’m rotting in prison, instead of being drowned?”
“As long as you are in prison, I will not be free,” he confessed, unexpected emotion cracking his voice.
“And if Poseidon takes me instead, to live out the rest of my days at the bottom of the sea. If he hurts me, for no other reason than to torment you, then will you be happy?”
“I would sooner see him crowned the king of the Gods.”
“Because you care for me. And if being a God means anything at all, it means not letting harm come to those you care for.”
Apollo nodded stiffly. “I will take you to Olympus.”
A thousand years at the bottom of the sea could not rob Cora of the heat and excitement she felt flooding through her body. She did not expect the boldness of her own words, or the feeling of the return. She never would have spoken that way to anyone else, but with Apollo she felt an understanding so deep that there was no harm in acknowledging their connection. Cora tried not to think about what she said next, knowing she would never say it if she were thinking.
“Because you love me. Even if you don’t yet know what that means.”
Apollo laughed. “We cannot swim to Olympus. I will put a spell on you so that we may fly. Do you trust me?”
“I trust this feeling,” she replied.
“So do I,” the God replied.