Brothers, Pt VII

(Author's note: I wrote most of this in my car, waiting to clock in at my second job. Please forgive any glaring errors that may have resulted...)

Pegs, who had once spent most of his time observing others from afar, now made it a point to be seen. Specifically he made it a point to be seen by heroes, or at the very least by the people he knew would be in contact with them. As the years passed, he refined his system. First he would scout out a likely-looking location, usually on a well-traveled road. He would spend about a week making dramatic appearances, to get the locals stirred up and talking, and then he would disappear for a day or two, to give any nearby heroes a chance to show up. And then? Then he would go hero-baiting.

It never got old. Each hero was different, and the best part was that as Pegs began to gain notoriety, more and more of the actually impressive heroes began to show up looking for him. These were men who had great cunning, or strength, or magical artifacts- all of which made the game that much more challenging for Pegs- and that much more satisfying when he ultimately shamed them.

He had been at it for about a decade or so before it began to make trouble for him.

***

Pegs was sunning himself on a cliff overlooking what his foster mothers referred to as ‘the tantrum spring’ when he got that peculiar prickling feeling between his withers that meant a god was in the immediate vicinity. Out of habit he moved himself into the dense foliage of a nearby tree, and turned his gaze downward to see what was afoot.

In the branches below him, an unusually large gray owl alighted. Pegs narrowed his eyes. It was full daylight out. That combined with the prickles told him exactly what- or rather who- that owl was. He bared his teeth at it, but held perfectly still.

The owl, oblivious to his presence, hopped down from the branch and melted into a proud-featured woman wearing a shining breast-plate. Only she wasn’t a woman.

She was the war-goddess.

The little glade was suddenly over-flowing with Pegs’ foster mothers. It never ceased to amaze him, how many they were- each one lovely- and somehow both alike in that loveliness and yet completely different- like a swirl of vari-colored snow-flakes. Nemie, who seemed always to be their default spokes-person, bowed graciously to the goddess.

“My Lady,” she said. “What brings you to our mountain-side?”

Cold gray eyes flashed, and the goddess gestured to the tantrum spring.

“This. Years ago I heard tell it was caused by the hoof of a horse. A winged horse. Isn’t that interesting? Have you ever heard of such a unique creature? I had not, nor did I again. Not until recently, that is. Because, you see, it appears that just such a creature has been bedeviling some of those who call me patron. Now, what are the chances that two such winged beasts are running- pardon me- flying about the countryside?”

Nemie did not reply, nor did her face give any indication that she knew exactly what the chances were, having mothered said winged beast for most of his life.

“And I thought to myself,” the goddess continued in icy tones, apparently not really caring what the chances were. “I thought, one of these monsters or two, I cannot have it or them making mockery of those heroes sworn to me. And then I thought to myself, I am in need of a creative solution- and who better to provide one than the demigoddesses of inspiration, who are surely used to dealing with- unique- creations.”

“My Lady,” Nemie demurred. “Creative and clever we may be, but we could never hope to be so wise as yourself.”

“Be that as it may,” Each word was precisely pronounced, and Pegs could feel the atmosphere literally thickening with the deity’s ire. “Be that as it may, if you and your sisters do not find a solution to my- unique irritation- then I will find one.” With that she swirled her skirts and was an owl once more, launching herself into the ether on silent wings.

Pegs blew disrespectfully at her retreating tail feathers.

The next thing he knew, his ear was being pinched- rather painfully- between the deceptively dainty thumb and forefinger of his foster mother Klio. He let out a hiss in protest.

“None of that, you naughty stallion!” She smacked him smartly on the nose, causing his eyes to water. “Just what, pray tell, does our recent guest mean by bedeviling her heroes?”

Pegs gave an equine shrug, and she twisted his ear a little harder. “Why don’t we take this down to the ground, and we’ll see if we can’t jog your memory,” This last bit was emphasized with increasing pressure on his abused ear, and he immediately leapt down. In his haste he forgot to check his landing, and a little spring rose up about his fetlocks, but none of his foster mothers seemed to care. They glared at him as one.

“Pegs,” said Nemie, “Have you been harassing heroes?”

He nodded sulkily.

“All heroes, or just hers?” This from Thalia, with a wicked glint in her eye.

He stretched out his wings and gathered as many of the muses to him as he could.

“Well at least she can’t complain that it was specifically against her,” she muttered, hiding a smile.

“That doesn’t make the slightest difference and you know it!” snapped Klio, who had finally released his ear. He twitched it in relief. “It’s no less of an offense to her divine ego!”

“There’s a larger problem,” said Mellie, most somber of his foster-mothers, in a low tone. “If she heard about the spring, she might hear about other things. Like who he really is.” Her sisters turned pale.

“If she figures out his parentage, it won’t matter what he does or does not do to annoy her- she will punish him for his blood. She would consider his very existence an insult!”

“Pegs, listen to me!” Nemie said, forcing him to look her in the eyes. “You must stop harassing the heroes! I can imagine your motivations, but you have to stop. You have to fade from her mind! Because if she puts too much thought into your existence, and realizes who you are, none of us can keep you safe!”

Pegs bared his teeth. He didn’t need to be “kept safe”!

“Pegs, please, you’ve got to promise! Please!” Dozens of luminous eyes pleaded with him. At first he stared defiantly back at them, but then he saw how genuinely frightened they seemed, and he relented. He sighed, nodded his head, and let his wings droop.

“Oh thank you, Pegs!” They chorused, rushing forward to kiss him.

But he did not keep his promise.