“We will destroy you, once and for all.”
I thought of Ketu. “And grant me the release of oblivion?”
Hera glowered at me.
“The Golden One fathered Alexandros, didn’t he? The two of you are playing at kings and empires. Does it amuse you? Is there some point to it beyond your own pitiful entertainment?”
“You don’t understand anything, Orion.”
“Don’t I? As far as I can see, you are serving the whims of Aten, the Golden One, whatever he’s calling himself now. He wanted to create a Trojan empire that spanned Europe and Asia. I stopped him then. Now he gets you to help him create the empire he’s wanted all along—by bearing his son, Alexandros, and allowing him to conquer the Persians.”
“Alexandros will conquer the whole world,” Hera said. “He must, or this nexus in the continuum will unravel disastrously.”
“But Philip stands in his way. He has a new son now, one that he is certain comes from his own seed.”
“Philip will die.”
“At Pausanias’ hand.”
“Of course.”
“Not if I can stop him.”
“You mustn’t!”
“Why not?”
Her anger had faded. Now she seemed alarmed, almost frightened. But she pulled herself together, regained her self-control. Hera leaned forward again and smiled coldly at me.
“Orion, consider: if this nexus unravels the fabric of spacetime, everything changes. You will be torn from Anya just as surely as the Earth will be destroyed in nuclear fire a few thousand years up the time-stream.”
“And if I obey you and allow Philip to be assassinated?”
She shrugged her slim shoulders. “At least we will be dealing with a continuum we understand and can control.”
“What is this great crisis that Anya spoke of? What is happening elsewhere in the continuum?”
Her face clouded over. “Problems so intricate that not even we Creators fully understand their implications. Anya is far from Earth, Orion, light-years off in interstellar space, attempting to deal with one aspect of the crisis.”
“Is she truly in danger?”
“We are all in danger, Orion. The forces ranged against us are beyond comprehension.”
Her usual haughty, taunting tone was gone. She was visibly fearful.
“How does this matter of Philip and Alexandros relate to Anya?”
I saw her draw back, a flicker of exasperation touching her face. “You are a stubborn mule, Orion!”
“Tell me,” I demanded.
She heaved an annoyed sigh. “We cannot get out of this nexus until its flow is resolved, one way or the other!” Hera blurted. “We are locked into this placetime, Aten and I, and will be until the decision is made! Either Philip dies or Alexandros. Until one of them is killed, we cannot return to the continuum to help Anya and the other Creators.”
“You’re stuck here?”
Very reluctantly she admitted, “Yes.”
I did not want to believe her, but suddenly much of what I had experienced made sense to me. When I had translated myself to the Creators’ city it was empty and abandoned. Whenever I had left this placetime I had returned precisely to the same time and place again. If what Hera was telling me was true, she and Aten were trapped here also. That was why Anya could not come to me; she was enmeshed in this snare just as they were.
Without meaning to, without even thinking about it, I burst out laughing.
Hera’s blazing anger returned. “You find this amusing?”
“Incredibly so,” I answered. “Your meddling with the continuum has finally caught up with you. You sent me here to be rid of me, and now you’re trapped here with me!”
I laughed until tears rolled down my cheeks.
CHAPTER 32
Hera disappeared so abruptly that I felt a jolt of physical alarm at finding myself back in the predawn cold of the hills near Aigai.
Pulling myself up to a sitting position, I waited and watched the dawn come up over the rugged eastern horizon. So Hera and Golden Aten are trapped in this nexus of the continuum, unable to get away from this placetime unless and until either Philip or Alexandros dies, I thought. Unable to reach Anya and the other Creators. Unable to help them in their battle out among the stars.