Page 179 of Styx

the competition and envy of the world.’

They were fearsome and powerful gifts.

And it was clear that this child in temperament

would be more like his mother than his father.

Styx had finally caught her breath,

her face still covered in a sheen

of holy perspiration, the exertion

of childbirth having not left her easily.

She clutched the baby to her chest,

her split eyes full of something

I never thought I would see in her:

pure, unadulterated love. Gone was her spite,

her grief, her sadness. I asked

the question we all wanted to:

‘What is the child’s name?’

Styx looked up at Pallas as she answered,

squeezing his hand tight.

‘His name is Zelus. Our child made

of zeal and surprise.’

The Baby’s Cries Soothed

and after some time had passed,

Styx sat up with help from Pallas,

her divine body healing quickly.

As she rocked the child at her chest,

she looked up at Metis.

But it was I who spoke first to her.

‘Metis,’ I sighed, ‘why?’

Metis, who had been in silent awe

watching Styx with Zelus,

slowly turned toward me.