The first thing Hercules became aware of was a pounding headache. He was hot and sweaty, and he could hardly move because his arms were tied to his sides. Was he dead? That's what that man had told him, that he needed to die. He'd dreamed that Pan had picked him up, but if he was locked in place, then it really had been a dream. He shifted, which was incredibly difficult. He was so weak.

"Dad!" somebody called. "Hercules is waking up!"

A gentle hand caressed his face, and he tried to open his eyes. His eyelids fluttered, and a soft groan left his lips.

"Easy, Herc," Hermes said from above him. "Tyche, help me unwrap him. He's a little warm."

Hercules was shifted, and cool air hit his skin. He shuddered, and a cold rag was wiped across his forehead. With a colossal effort, he finally managed to open his eyes, and he saw Hermes's face. It was set against a flaming red sky.

"I'm not dead," Hercules croaked, suddenly aware of his parched throat.

Pan appeared beside Hermes, and he held out a water skein. Hermes took it, and Pan walked around behind Hercules and picked him up. Hermes held out the skein, and Hercules drank deeply. He was so thirsty that he drained the entire pouch. He took a deep breath, and Pan shifted. There was a strange sound and warmth flared at his back, and a bush was suddenly behind him. Pan eased him back, and Hercules found the soft, full leaves comfortable. He relaxed back and looked around. Triton lay nearby, unconscious with a purple tint to his skin. He was breathing slowly, too slowly.

"Is he okay?" Hercules slurred; he sounded incredibly drunk.

"He'll be okay," Pan said, settling beside him. "Dad says he's more affected because he's a full god."

"You hungry, little brother?" Hermes asked.

Hercules considered this then nodded. "Yeah."

Hermes filled a bowl with lamb stew and settled on the other side of him. He spooned out a chunk of meat and held it out. Hercules turned bright red, glancing away.

"Do you think you can eat by yourself?" Hermes asked pointedly.

With great reluctance, the teen opened his mouth and accepted the food. Pan smiled at him, leaning back against the bush, which was quite large.

"Don't feel bad. Me and Auto were like that yesterday," he said. "Could hardly move. We're still sore. We won't laugh."

"Hard," Angelia said, striding across the clearing. She had a smirk on her face, though her eyes twinkled with merriment.

"Ha ha," Hercules muttered, but he did feel better about being spoonfed.

"How do you feel?" Hermes asked, stirring the stew.

"Weak. I can't lift my arms," Hercules said.

"It should pass. I sent Cassandra, Icarus, and Phil out with Hermy to find some herbs to make into medicine for you. It should counterbalance the drug. You'll be right as rain in a few days."

Hercules nodded and accepted another bite of stew. It was delicious, and it made him realize how hungry he was. Hermes fed him for a few minutes before he spoke again.

"Triton's worse off," he said grimly. "You started looking better this morning. He's still looking too purple for my tastes. I hope he's okay. I didn't see anything past saving you. I thought he'd be better. That Ambrose knows his chemistry."

Hercules swallowed another bite. "Who's Ambrose?"

"That man who drugged you," Hermes replied. "He's got a thing about the gods."

Hercules frowned. "What kind of thing?" he asked.

"You know how I feel about them?" Hercules nodded, and Hermes swallowed. "He feels the same way. Only he's willing to make them pay."

Before Hercules could respond, a bleat sounded out, and he turned his head as much as he could to see Phil bounding out of the forest. His dark eyes were wild, and he leaped over Pan to get to him. Icarus and Cassandra were hurrying behind him, carrying bundles. They slung them to the ground and knelt beside him. Phil had Hercules's face in his hands, and he had tears in his eyes.

"You're okay, kid!" Phil shouted. "Oh, when Hermes came by and said you were in danger, I didn't want to believe him! But he looked like somebody was going to die, so I jumped on Pegasus and we took off! When we got here, you looked dead! I can't believe you're okay!"

Hercules couldn't move his body, but he smiled. "I'll be okay."

Phil hugged him tightly then pulled back when the boy didn't reciprocate. He scanned the teen's face then looked over at Hermes.

"He's weak and can't move right now," Hermes said. He set aside the bowl and turned to Hermaphroditus. "You've got the herbs and berries?"

"Yep," Hermaphroditus said, slinging a pack down. Tyche and Angelia retrieved the packs that Icarus and Cassandra had thrown down. "Where do we begin?"

Hermes handed Pan the bowl. "If he wants more, give him some. But only two bowls. Any more than that and he'll be sick."

"Okay, Dad," Pan said.

Phil backed off, a frightened and helpless look on his face. "Ya can't feed yourself?" he asked, his eyes wide.

Hercules's face flamed again, and Pan growled, the sound like a wild animal. His eyes flashed, and Phil quickly backed off.

"Watch it, Phil," Pan said, a warning in his tone. "Just because he can't feed himself at this moment doesn't mean he's weak. That drug had a kick like a mule for Hercules, and he'll regain his strength eventually. Don't make him feel worse. He's been through enough.

Phil flinched away from Pan, fear in his face. "Of course. You're right, Pan. I just… I hate seein' him like this."

Hercules looked between the two satyrs. Something was boiling between them. "What happened?" he asked. "Why are you mad at Phil?"

Pan's green eyes took on a godly glow. "Dad warned him not to do anything to the nymphs when he got here last night. He didn't listen."

The teen frowned at Phil, and Phil flushed. "Hey, I learned my lesson!" he said defensively.

"Did you?" Pan asked. "I'll believe that when you can go a day without drooling over Daphne."

"She's the one with the scar," Phil said distastefully. "Not the best-lookin' one of the bunch."

Hercules knew Phil had screwed up royally, and he could do nothing to stop Hermes as he flashed over and picked Phil up by one arm and shook him like a dog with a bone. Phil screamed, a high, frightened noise that petered out into a strange baying bleat.

"Don't you ever insult Daphne!" Hermes roared, still shaking Phil. "Do you understand?!"

"Hermes, stop!" Hercules screamed. "You're hurting him!"

Hermes looked at Hercules, and the silver fire died from his eyes. He snorted in disgust and tossed Phil to the ground. He stared darkly at the satyr as he cowered away, his brown eyes wide with terror.

"She is the most beautiful nymph I have ever known," Hermes said, barely contained rage in his tone. "Don't you ever forget it, Phil."

Phil nodded quickly, holding his arm gingerly against his side. He was trembling with pain, and Hercules could see ugly bruises forming in the exact shape of Hermes's hand. The fingers were defined perfectly, and Phil shivered. Hercules knew that Hermes was sensitive about Daphne's appearance and that he blamed himself for the scar. He turned away from the proffered spoon.

"I'm not hungry," he muttered to Pan.

"You know the story about her scar, don't you?" Pan asked.

"Yeah. But he shouldn't have done that to Phil."

Hermes was a few yards away, angrily tossing ingredients into a bowl. He glanced at Hercules then at Phil, who was looking with big eyes at the painful bruises. Hermes paused, got up, then hurried away. He came back a few minutes later with a flask and a pouch. With great care, he knelt down, took Phil's bruised arm, and opened the pouch. He spread a sweet-smelling salve on the bruises, and Phil stopped trembling and stared as the bruises changed from dark purple to yellow-green, as if they were in the late stages of healing. Hermes popped the cap off of the flask and shoved it into Phil's hands.

"Don't insult Daphne," he said tartly. "But I'm sorry for hurting you."

Phil stared nervously at Hermes, and then he looked down at the flask. "I'm sorry," he said softly. "I didn't mean ta hurt you. Either of you." He paused then glanced up. "This ain't poison, is it?"

Hermes's angry expression morphed into glee. He laughed gaily. "No. It's not poison. It's medicinal wine. It'll help you relax." He turned to go back to his bowl. "Just remember to keep your hands to yourself. They are not objects for your gratification, Phil."

After glancing at the faint bruises, Phil nodded. "I'll keep that in mind." He took a swig of the wine. "You should eat some more, kid. Get your strength back up."

Hercules nodded at Pan. "Mind getting me some more?"

Pan smiled. "No problem."

After he'd polished off a second bowl of lamb stew, Hercules sat and talked with Icarus and Cassandra to find out what had happened. Cassandra explained that she had been caught when she was doing her homework in her room. Hermes had arrived at her door, and her parents had called her down, stating that there was a handsome young man who needed to see her. As soon as she'd seen the look on Hermes's face, she had turned and gone back up to her room to get her bag. He had told her to pack a week before, and she had obeyed. After hugging her parents tightly, she'd followed him out and onto Pegasus. Her parents' questions had gone unanswered, and she, Hermes, and Phil had started out for Icarus's house.

Icarus had protested when Hermes arrived, stating that he had too much to do. Cassandra had to convince him to pack and come with them. Hermes refused to let Icarus leave a note for Daedalus, and off they went to the clearing. Icarus had fired question after question, but Hermes didn't answer.

"He seemed nervous," Icarus explained, tapping his foot.

"He was scared," Cassandra corrected.

"Why?" Hercules asked, turning to look at Hermes, who was mixing something.

Hermes answered without looking up. "Despite my best efforts, I couldn't help but doubt Cassandra's vision," he said. "Apollo's curse is very powerful. I was afraid it wouldn't go off the way I saw it."

Cassandra froze, her eyes going wide. Her bottom lip began to tremble, and tears filled her green eyes. "You… You believed me?" she rasped.

Hermes looked up and nodded. "Of course. It's not your fault nobody believes you. It's Apollo's."

"What did Apollo do?" Hercules asked, fearing the answer.

Cassandra pressed her lips together tightly, looking down. She was paler than usual, so pale that she seemed ghostly. Hermes stopped stirring.

"I don't have to tell them, Cassandra," he said gently.

Icarus and Hercules didn't move, staring at Cassandra's tear-streaked face. They had never seen her cry. Ever. Her face was a ghostly mask of pain and anger. She finally shrugged one shoulder.

"I think they should know," she whispered. "But I need to tell them."

"Then tell them. I'll help if you need me to," Hermes said. He began to mix the paste again, tossing in a pale pink flower.

Hercules and Icarus waited for several minutes, neither daring to speak. Cassandra looked so frightened, so helpless, and the tears still flowed. Her jaw was clenched, and she didn't move save her breathing. Icarus hesitated then reached out and placed his hand on hers.

"Cassie?" he asked gently. "You don't have to."

Cassandra looked up, her green eyes full of fire. "Apollo wanted to have sex with me when I was thirteen. He offered me a power, and I jokingly said I would take it. Before I knew what happened, he gave me a prophetic ability. And then he tried to take me. I slapped him and screamed no, that I was kidding. He got mad and cursed me. My prophecies will always be accurate, but they will always be about disasters and I will never, ever be believed."

Silence filled the clearing. Pan, Hermaphroditus, Tyche, and Angelia stared with open mouths. Then rage filled their faces.

"How dare he?!" Tyche shrieked, the bowl in her hands shattering from the force of her grip.

"Pervert!" Angelia spat.

Hermaphroditus and Pan said nothing, but they were tense as they went over to their father. Hermes nodded at them when they looked to him for confirmation.

"She's not lying," he said softly. "Apollo vented for days about being rejected by a mortal teen. He didn't even spare a thought for how she felt. He wanted what he wanted, and since he didn't get it, he threw a fit." Hermes stopped stirring. "And I can't take away either the blessing or the curse. I'm sorry, Cassandra."

Cassandra held her chin up. "I don't blame you, Hermes. It was Apollo's fault."

Hermes nodded then looked up sharply. "Auto? Is that you?"

There was a shimmer in the air, and Autolycus pulled off the helmet of invisibility. "Yeah, Dad." He looked around. "What was Apollo's fault?"

"Cassandra's powers and curse," Hermes said shortly. "What did you find out?"

Autolycus frowned. "He did it."

Hermes pressed his lips together. "All of them?"

"All of them," Autolycus confirmed.

There was a long pause then Hercules cleared his throat. "Who did what?"

"Ambrose turned all of the gods mortal," Hermes said grimly. "Every single one of them. Except for me, my children, and Triton."

Phil, who had been strangely silent, stood up, dropping the empty flask. "What?" he asked. "You're kidding, right? I thought you were jokin' about that last night."

Hermes stood up, leaving the potion he was making. He began to pace. For several minutes, there was no talking as the truth of the situation hit them. Then Hermes paused and began to chuckle. His chuckle turned into a laugh, and he threw his head back, glee on his face. Everybody else glanced at each other.

"Dad?" Pan asked. "What's going on?"

Hermes stopped laughing and turned to grin at his children. "I'm the son of Zeus," he said. "And there are no longer any gods on Mount Olympus. Besides me and all of you."

"So?" Tyche asked.

Autolycus snorted and grinned, his eyes glinting. "I get it."

"Get what?" Pan asked.

The prince of thieves smirked. "Dad is the next in line for the throne on Olympus. He's the only one who can take over."

Pan froze then began to laugh. Tyche, Hermaphroditus, and Angelia followed suit. And then Pan cried out.

"Hail to the king of the gods! Hail to Hermes!"

There was a flutter around the clearing, then nymphs flooded out of the forest, out of the river, talking loudly and cheering.

"Hail! Hail to Hermes!" they sang, dancing around him and laughing.

Hermes's face was aglow with pleasure. Then another woman walked out. She was not a typical nymph. She was graceful, with long, black hair and silver eyes. Hermes smiled at her.

"Hey, Mama."

"So the vision was true," she said, her voice pleasant.

"Yep."

"And you're king of the gods?"

"I am now," he said. "Are you proud?"

The woman smiled. "I am always proud of my little thief."

Hermes flushed with pleasure. Then he noticed Hercules looking worried and confused.

"Mama, this is my little brother, Hercules," he said, hurrying to introduce everybody. "This is Cassandra, Icarus, and Phil. Guys, this is my mother, Maia."

"Good ta meet you," Phil said, but he lowered his eyes quickly, not wanting to pique Hermes's wrath again.

Hercules nodded, but he looked at Hermes. "Hey, Hermes? You're… You're not going to leave them like that, are you? Mom and Dad and the rest of them?"

Hermes pursed his lips, his eyes thoughtful. Hercules stared with growing horror, afraid the lure of power would corrupt his older brother. Then Hermes smiled.

"I don't think I'm cut out to be a permanent king. But I will make the most of my time as one."

Hercules breathed out in relief. "Good."

"Worried about me?" Hermes asked.

"A little," Hercules said.

"Good boy," Hermes said. "Power corrupts. Absolute power corrupts absolutely. I'm not foolish enough to fall into that trap. But I think I can handle it for a few weeks."

Hercules sighed. "What's the plan?"

"We get you and Triton back to full health." Hermes paused then looked to the east. "Then we go to Olympus and make our plans."

Hercules frowned. "I can't go to Olympus. Neither can Cassandra or Icarus or Phil."

Hermes smiled. "As king of the gods, I can rewrite the rules. And I think a temporary allowance of a few select mortals to be able to enter Olympus is in order. And Herc, I will personally give you the tour."

The hero-in-training had no words, but Hermes understood. Without another word, the new king of the gods returned to his mixing bowl, leaving Hercules to imagine what he would see on Olympus.