A Change of Heart

Probably Friday March 12 to Sunday April 11, 1490

Even more downtrodden and defeatist after his encounter with Persephone, Thanos trudged into the yard after Jamie. "I did warn you that my family is dangerous," he sighed, sounding for all the world like his kinswoman Oizys, goddess of misery and depression. "Poseidon has wanted revenge ever since this city chose Athena's gift of the olive tree over his offering of a salt spring."

"Yeah, well, who wants more salty water when we already have an entire sea full of it?" I muttered absentmindedly, still transfixed by the wave that sped towards us. Dark and sinister under the lightning-lit sky, it struck the shallower seabed near land full force, slowed dramatically, and grew and grew until it transformed into a wall of black water up to the clouds themselves.

"Thucydides theorized in History of the Peloponnesian War that tidal waves are caused by underwater earthquakes!" Cly yelled into my ear. "This is so exciting! We get to see one up close! Make sure you remember everything so we can cross-reference our observations against different sources!"

For once, I didn't share her enthusiasm for scholarly research. This was no ordinary phenomenon that we could expect to follow natural law — this was a god's revenge, unprecedented within the annals of Thucydides. When it hit Athens, Poseidon would unleash millennia's worth of pent-up ire. Everything his niece had built and nurtured — from the harbor at Piraeus that had seen the defeat of the Persians, to the proud walls that had held back the Ottomans, to the graceful marble temples throughout the city that had seen her worship, to every last person who lived in her city and so bore guilt by association — all of these would be smashed by the impact of the water and dragged out to sea in an homage to the god's inexorable power.

Tapping his fingers against his leg and counting off the seconds, Ghallim calculated the speed of the wave. "Assuming nothing changes, we 'ave a few tens of minutes before eet 'its ze city," he predicted.

"What can you do?" Ynez demanded of all of us.

"Nothing," Thanos said flatly. "My brother will have his revenge."

I might be able to slow or even divert the wave, but challenging the god of the oceans in his own domain seemed like a terrible idea. Daughter of a Titan I might be, but goddess I was most certainly not. (See, Thoren? I'm learning restraint. Aren't you proud of me?) Still, with Ars Essentiae I could warn the population and give people a chance — not a good one, but a chance nonetheless — to seek high ground. Snapping into action, I ordered Ynez and Tel, "Help me broadcast a message across the city. I'm going to tell everyone to get to the Acropolis."

Ynez bobbed her head up and down vigorously. "Tel can charm them into obeying."

Picking out a fresh piece of wood, I carved a large horn for a loudspeaker, while Ynez and Tel (channeling the Muse of Dance this time because, as he said, "Dancing is kind of like running, right?") chanted together in Enochian. When the Effect had gathered all the force we could manage, I boomed out through the horn, "Everyone, there's a tidal wave coming! Please go to the Acropolis as fast as you can!"

Behind me, Thanos groaned and hid his face in his hands. "You do realize that you just triggered a stampede, right?" he moaned.

Oops. Why did everything I did to help have to backfire? And seriously, why hadn't he stopped me about half a minute earlier? "Um, everyone, please go to the Acropolis in an orderly fashion!" I amended.

A beat late, Tel added in an incongruously cheerful voice, "There's free food and beer at the Acropolis! Get it before it runs out!"

As our message rang out across the city and echoed from the walls still standing, Thanos' pessimism quickly proved justified. The poor civilians had already been petrified by the assault of burning rain, raging infernos, collapsing buildings, flying masonry, and invading Plague — not to mention the sight of forty-foot-tall elementals swinging at one another by the Forgotten Orphanage, home to the terrifying Ynez Murillo bani Criamon. Now they panicked completely. Raving like maenads, Athenians ran wild-eyed towards the Acropolis, shoving one another out of the way, trampling anyone who fell, and even crushing hapless people against the piles of rubble that blocked the streets.