Page 153 of Styx

simply full of riddles?

Even the child in my belly

did not appreciate this.

I turned to look at the others.

But it was Zephyrus

who spoke up.

‘You must call for Notus.

He is the only one who knows

the precise point

of the nocturnal and diurnal feast.’

And with this, he disappeared.

The South Wind, Notus

Pallas called for him

with a horn made from adamantine.

He raised it to his lips and a haunting

song escaped its hollow insides.

The sound that returned was a storm’s call,

the rush of wind between clouds,

and then, the grey swirls of a hurricane

made its way toward us.

For a moment, every tree in the orchard

shook and even Atlas’s calm demeanour

seemed a little perturbed.

The hurricane stopped at our feet,

disappearing to reveal

a boy scarcely more than a child.

He had grey hair like his hurricane

and the ashen eyes of a storm’s heart.

He stared up at his uncles

and then scowled. ‘What is it?’