Whispers of Nowhere

Chapter Nine: Part Two

When Phenex stepped into Apollo's quarters, he wasn't the least bit surprised by the lush garden that surrounded him. Obsidian brickwork ran from where he stood at the entrance to the far end of the garden, splitting into two separate footpaths that encircled the sturdy, pine gazebo at the centre of a grove of laurel trees. Large oaks, elms, and sycamores grew on all sides, their leaves rustling between their entwined branches.

Phenex had been within Apollo's garden paradise many times over the centuries, and while it often changed—a new bed of flowers here, a couple of fish ponds there—for the most part, it stayed the same. Breathing in the scent of lilac and mint, Phenex squared his shoulders and made his way along the path, his footfalls barely a whisper against the glistening volcanic glass. Sunlight filtered in through the canopy of leaves above him, casting a checkered pattern across the walkway. Neatly-trimmed grass grew on either side in thick tufts of bright green.

Phenex came to a stop in front of the gazebo, allowing his gaze to drift over the perfectly sanded railings and freshly-painted roof, to the lattice work and the two black, wrought iron chairs sitting on either side of a matching glass-top table. As soon as he set foot beneath the roof's overhang, he felt an all-too-familiar tingling between his shoulder blades.

"Ah, so you are here. I was beginning to think I'd come at a bad time," Phenex declared to the garden at large.

"Still as much of a show-off now as the day I took you in, I see."

Phenex turned, grinning broadly as he met Apollo's emerald-eyed gaze, the god sharing his amusement with a smile of his own. Long, dark tresses curled around his shoulders, stirring in the warm breeze. Having long ago abandoned his toga, the Greek god had taken to wearing fine, silken shirts and form-fitting pants, his strapped sandals having been discarded for the sophistication and style of dark leather boots, polished to a brilliant shine.

"It's good to see you, too." Phenex chuckled, settling into one of the chairs when Apollo prompted him to do so. As his host sat in the chair opposite, he said, "I apologize for coming to you on such short notice. I hope I'm not interrupting anything?" He fixed Apollo with a knowing smirk, the god laughing with a shake of his head.

"Only you could get away with being so forward," said Apollo, waggling his index finger at him. "Even Asclepius wouldn't dare speak so boldly. You do realize that, don't you?"

Phenex made a face at this, earning another chuckle from the god. Asclepius was Apollo's son and leader of the Regulations Force, Fifth Unit—and incidentally not one of Phenex's favourite entities, at present. He refrained from saying anything on the matter, however, and instead returned to the subject at hand. "All right, you got me there. I am sorry if I've come at a bad time, though."

"Think nothing of it. Business before pleasure, and all that," Apollo assured him.

"Unless you're Bacchus," said Phenex. "Or Dionysus...or Pan..." By the time he had finished listing off any and all of the gods whose primary—or in some cases, sole—purpose seemed to revolve around pleasure-seeking, Apollo's deep, rich laughter filled the entire garden.

"All right, all right. You've made your point," Apollo said with a chuckle. "I'd nearly forgotten how much I'd missed your whimsy." When he then turned to glance at something on the other side of the gazebo, Phenex swivelled partway around to a see what had caught his attention. A flaxen-haired woman entered the gazebo, full lips pulling into a smile as she came to stand next to the Greek god.

"Lord Apollo." She bowed her head demurely, then turned her silvery-blue gaze on Phenex. "And the Flame of Olympus, himself. My, this is quite an honour. May I bring you something to drink?"