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his situation. Her beauty was pristine, somehow mature...the polar opposite of Venus’ flirtatious lightheartedness.
    Minerva commanded respect and her bearing was regal. She had never had much use for Neptune, he knew, as she preferred the company of gods who were more intellectual. He was certain she felt his constant storms and shipwrecks were mere displays of ego, and as such, below her. But he felt she would at least give him a fair hearing if he implored upon her to give him her advice. Everyone knew she had the finest mind of all the goddesses.
    He searched his stone tablets, which were buried in a treasure chest near the ruins of his fine ship. The next council was scheduled for four days hence. If he was to seek an audience with Minerva, there would be no better time to do it, and he’d save himself two trips up there at the same time.

Chapter Eight
     
    The council was held inside of a cloud. It was the softest, whitest and fluffiest of clouds, dusted at the edges with coral pink and orange light. Comfortable stone benches with soft cushions of silver were lined up in a perfect circle and suspended by magic within the cloud. Blue skies surrounded the sacred round just beyond the fine cumulous mists. Neptune watched the ordered procession of gods and goddesses, enjoying the spectacle, despite his anxiety.
    Various gods and goddesses posed and paraded into the council area. Venus preened elegantly as the gods smiled and touched their hair in nervousness. Her curls were arranged in a low chignon at the base of her swanlike throat. She moved like a prima ballerina in front of a royal audience. Neptune fought the urge to throw roses at her feet.
    Next, Diana the Huntress stalked through the crowd, her face displaying her usual defiant expression. He watched as Diana observed Venus’ theatrics—with slight disdain, he thought—but she greeted the Goddess Of Love politely, no doubt because she was so secure in her own beauty, which was more earthy and unadorned, but nonetheless quite remarkable.
    Neptune admired Diana’s tanned limbs. They seemed to glow in a short, white toga, which, she had once told him, allowed her to move quickly as she hunted. Her blonde hair was sleek and pulled back into a no-nonsense braid. A gold coronet circled her brow, further enhancing the bronzed skin.
    He smiled as she sat down with a thud and put her bow aside. He knew she hated sitting still for these infernal meetings that seemed to go on forever. The Huntress would rather be running free through an earthly forest, every muscle and fiber burning as she increased her speed.
    Minerva arrived last, and Neptune straightened his posture instinctively as a gesture of respect. Her eyes glowed amber as she surveyed the scene. Her russet hair was loose and hung in waves, as it always did. As was typical, the Goddess of Wisdom wore no jewelry—no sandals even on her bare feet. Her straight nose was elevated as she stepped into the area where she would sit.
    She turned her intense gaze upon the gods and goddesses who were quietly mingling and waiting for the meeting to be called to order. Her eyes swept over Neptune and she let a ghost of a smile steal across her face. He followed her glance, which was directed at his jewel-encrusted trident, which she probably found vulgar and showy, and he flushed crimson.
    “This council of the gods is now called to order,” Jupiter bellowed as he strode into the center of the circle, radiating power and authority. All the gods and goddesses quieted down, and Neptune steeled himself for what was to come.
    “Minerva, do you have the agenda?” Jupiter asked in a softer tone. Neptune knew he adored the goddess, as he often said she was an excellent sounding board during tricky moments at council.
    “Here, Your Grace,” she murmured, handing him a parchment scroll figured in beautiful calligraphy. “I think you will find it to your liking.”
    “First order of business is...” He glanced down and