Where are you going?! I said this wouldn't hurt! Eesh....
The Halloween story I’m sharing takes place before my book FLG, back when Arden—Psyche and Eros’ notoriously snarky son—was just a tike. It’s from the POV of his grandfather Ares, the Greek god of war, who gets it in his head to take Arden trick-or-treating on Earth. This story is old, so sorry in advance for any suckitude you may find in the writing….
“You don’t have to hide your wings,” I told my grandson as we trailed down a suburban street bustling with trick-or-treaters (all of whom, unfortunately, seemed to be more concerned with the treat side of things). I stopped, looking back, waiting for him to catch up. He was a little runt of a thing, barely waist-high and not even a blink as old as me. I was willing to deal with Arden’s short legs and even shorter knowledge of Earth, though. He was someone I could mold to my liking -- seeing how most other Olympians didn’t like me, the more I could influence him, the better! “It’s Halloween here, remember? People will just think they’re part of a costume.”
“Uh-huh.” Arden hopped into step beside me, gazing distractedly around at all the little mortals around us. Except for the occasional nymph and a few other godlings, he wasn’t used to seeing people his age. It clearly fascinated him, even though leaving Olympus always made him antsy.
I ruffled his golden tuft of hair. “So why are you hiding your wings?”
“’Cause I want to be in costume, too!” Arden raised himself up on his tiptoes and exploded his fists at me. “Look, I’m mortal! Boo!”
I laughed. “So you’re a dead mortal, then?”
Arden frowned. “Huh?”
I shook my head. I didn’t feel like explaining death to someone who couldn’t yet conceive it, much less ever experience it.
“Here.” I pulled a goblin mask out from my knapsack and slipped it over Arden’s face. “You can be Hephaestus instead.”
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