If you’ve followed me for any amount of time, you’re probably aware that world building is one of my favorite parts of writing romantasy and PNR. Coming up with my version of Olympus in The Games Gods Play–one that honored the images of it from mythology, but still offered a different take that plays into the story–was sooooo much fun.
I hope you enjoy it!
EXCERPT
I open my mouth to tell him that if he thinks I’m going to participate in this farce of the gods’ one-upmanship, or whatever is going on here, he’s mistaken.
But before I can reply, before even Zeus can, Hades says above the roar of the crowd, “Let the games begin!”
Then there’s a flash of lightning the exact moment I do that blinking-disappearing thing again, this time without the smoke effects. The blinking thing lasts a little longer this time, and I swear I feel a steadying touch at the small of my back.
When my vision blinks back in, Hades and I are no longer standing before the temple in San Francisco at night. We’re on a wide, semicircular platform that protrudes from a mountainside and appears to hover over a sheer drop into clouds with the sun shining above.
We’re alone, but probably not for long.
I need to talk my way out of this. Fast. I look around for any ideas and freeze. All thoughts of escape move to the back burner as I gape at a sight mortals have only dreamed of witnessing.
Olympus—the home of the gods.
Built among and on top of towering mountain spires, the pristine white buildings seem to be part of the very rocks themselves. Of easily identifiable ancient Grecian origin, they show perfect symmetry and, of course, the distinctive tall columns from various eras.
I can’t see any signs or lingering scars from the Anaxian Wars.
“Stop staring,” Hades says.
“I’ve never seen anything like it,” I breathe, forgetting for a microsecond who I’m with.
“It’s not that impressive.”
I shoot him a sidelong glance. He is the only god who doesn’t make a home here. Ever. “You sound bitter. Sour grapes?”
Is it possible for silvery eyes to turn pitch-black? He smiles in the way a shark does, showing you the teeth he’s about to eat you with. “Not at all.” He looks away, gaze skating over the vista before us. “I’ve seen better. Trust me.”
Better than this? I’m not sure that’s possible. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”
“I can make that happen.”
Was that a threat?
I pretend I didn’t hear him, looking up and up and up to the single massive temple sitting atop the tallest peak. Just below that, three faces are carved into the mountain side by side. Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades—the three brothers who defeated and imprisoned the Titans who ruled the world before them. From each of the open carved mouths pours a waterfall.
The water pouring from Zeus’ mouth is an almost iridescent white that turns into misty clouds that swirl their way down to the mountain below, shrouding Olympus from the eyes of the Overworld. The waters from Poseidon are turquoise, like pictures I’ve seen of the Caribbean Sea, so clear that even from here I can make out details of the rock face beneath.
And the one from Hades is…
I lean over. “Does your waterfall feed the River Styx?”
“Yes.”
“The water is black.” I can tell by the way his lips twist that I don’t have to point out what I’m getting at.
“It’s not black in the Underworld.”
“Really? What color is it? Please tell me it’s pink.”
He bends closer, intent on me. “You’ll find out soon enough if you’re not careful.”
I hide my wince by looking away.
Hades’ waterfall doesn’t fall far, turning into a river that seems to disappear into the bowels of the mountain, but Poseidon’s river winds its way along the surface, splitting to follow each peak. It flows under beautiful, curved bridges, feeding the lush greenery that covers the mountains, and disappears in places to come out of carved statues farther down.
And everything here sort of…glows. I’m surprised I don’t hear heavenly choirs. Olympus is overwhelmingly perfect. I suddenly feel small. Insignificant.
I shouldn’t be here.
I am the last person who should be here. There must be a way out of this.
“I’m…” I’m what? Sorry? Terrified? Suffer from wrong-place-wrong-time syndrome?
Before I can pick the right words, Hades blocks my view and says, “We don’t have long. I need you to listen.”
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*I use Adobe Stock images and filter out AI generated. Hopefully that means these aren’t, but please know that I tried.
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