“Well?”  the goddess raised one dark brow at her, “what do you say, love? I’d suggest saying yes, “ she dropped a wink at the others watching in the doorway, “unless your friends annoy you terribly and you’d like me to get rid of them for you, I always did find human companionship annoying.”

                “No,” Alice blurted, “fine, I except your…your competition.”

                “Alice,” Shakra’s voice was laced with pain, and she was leaning against Altair, one hand pressed to her forehead, “it’s not use playing her little game. If you win, she’ll kill us all anyways. She a very sore loser.”

                Alice glared at Athena, “how do I know she’s not right? How will I know you won’t kill me if I win?”

                Athena grinned and shrugged, “You don’t. And don’t worry, you can’t win. There’s no way anyone can win a weaving contest with me.”

                “And if I lose?” Alice tried to swallow the lump in her throat.

                “Then you’re mine.”

                “That just sounds like a bad deal altogether,” Alice hissed, “it’s not a fair competition.”

                “That’s too bad for you,” Athena laughed.

                “You have to play fair,” Alice glowered at her, “or we can’t play at all.” She leaned back as Athena bent closer to her and purred, “are you going to make me play fair, little Alice?”

                “No,” Alice felt her heart lift a little as an idea occurred to her, “but I think I know someone who can.”  She seized the bone necklace between her thumb and forefinger, rubbing it hard, shutting her eyes tightly she whispered, “Goddess Styx.”

                Athena gave an outraged cry, “You can’t…”

                A dark mist began to gather around their feet, and they both stepped back. Athena glared at her, “are you daft, child? The goddess Styx won’t lay a hand on me…”

                The mist took form abruptly, turning into the tall, dark goddess of the river, “…but I can make you play fair, sister.” She turned dark eyes on Alice, “I was wondering when you would call me, little witch.”

                Even though she knew the Goddess Styx was on her side, Alice still had to suppress a shudder under the gaze of her inky black eyes, “I know you won’t hurt one of…of your own kind just for me, but…will you judge a contest to make it fair?”

                Styx’s eyes glittered with interest, shifting from Alice to Athena, who suddenly looked very pouty, as if she was a small child whose candy was being threatened, “yes, I will judge your competition. What are the stakes?”

                Athena’s voice was sulky, “it’s a weaving contest. If I win, she dies. If she wins, she dies.”

                Styx stared at her, until Athena sighed loudly and threw up her arms, “fine! If she wins she goes free,” she glared at Alice, “but she won’t win. It’s not possible.”

                Styx’s voice became hard, “and if she wins?”

                Alice forced her voice into steadiness, “if I win, everyone goes free and you leave me and everyone I love alone for the rest of our existence.”

                Athena was pouting again, but Styx nodded, “these terms are acceptable.” She turned to Athena, “you must swear on my name that it will be so.”

                Athena shook her head angrily, “I won’t touch your name, sister. It’s like poison.”

                Stxy glided forward, and the black mist suddenly curled up around the bottom of Athena’s dress, licking upwards, sinking into the white fabric and coloring it grey, “my river is poison to those who lie, foolish sister. That is all. But my name is only a name,” her lips parted in a venous smile, and for a split second Alice could swear she saw a flash of pointed white teeth, “unless you break your word.”

                “I don’t think I will swear on your name,” Athena folded her arms over her chest, “I don’t like your games. This isn’t even your business.”

                “My games?” Styx’s laugh was low and dangerous, “and, darling sister, if you don’t swear on my name, the competition will not go forward. I’ve made it my business now.”

                Athena’s eyes shifted around the shop quickly, as if she was thinking about trying to talk her way out of it, “I…fine. That’s fine, it’s not like she can win anyways.”

                “Swear.” Styx whispered, “swear, sister.”

                Athena rolled her eyes and chanted in a bored, flat voice, “I swear on the river Styx.”

                “You swear what?”  Styx hissed.

                “I swear on the river Styx I’ll leave Alice and all her…loved ones alone for the rest of their existence.” Athena grumbled, “now let’s get on with it, shall we?”

                It would be outside. Athena demanded that it would be outside and that she would weave first. She declared all this with the ease of someone who’d been doing these so called “contests” for a long, long time. Alice couldn’t help wondering how many other people she’d challenged. How many other people she’d killed because they’d lost to her. Had the goddess become obsessed with it ever since Shakra had beat her?

                Alice glanced over at the sorceress. Shakra was leaning against the brick overlay at the bottom of the shop window, misery etched on her dark face. Gabriel, Maya and Altair were standing beside her, and Azura was pacing back and forth on the sidewalk behind them.  

                “My turn first,” Athena said gleefully.

                “The referee will decide when the competition begins,”  Styx placed herself between Alice and Athena, “Are you both ready?”

                Alice swallowed, her throat feeling prickly and dry. She nodded to indicate she was ready, even though she knew she would never be ready, not in a million years. Athena threw her hands out, “I’ll start! I’m going to weave a spell like nothing you’ve ever seen, little witch. There is no possible way to best me.”

                “Constant nattering won’t get your spell started, “ Styx said dryly.

                Athena shot her an annoyed look, “very well. Let us begin.”

                The goddess of war tipped her head back and threw out her arms, her white dress blowing around her legs, the thin fabric whipping in the icy wind, “Watch and learn, Alice.”

                Up and down the main street of Jasper the lamps flickered erratically. Here and there, bunches of glowing threads floated underneath the canopies of magic shops and as Athena stretched out her fingers they glowed all the more brightly, slowly drifting out from the cover of the stores, trailing down the street like floating streamers, all drawn in the same direction, like fluid, multi-colored magnets. Alice watched, eyes wide. Her entire body felt tingly and numb at the same time. The massive amount of magic that was floating down the street towards the goddess was both terrifying and impressive. As the threads floated by Alice they brushed past her face, sending tingles across her skin. Athena laughed, an almost giddy sound, as the threads wound sinuously up both arms, glowing almost blindingly bright upon contact with her skin.

                “There is no feeling like it,” the goddess’ voice emerged from her lips low and breathy. She raised both hands and the threads burst forward, and Alice stared in shock and horror as they seemed to melt into the air around them, the magic weaving together at astonishing speed, and dissolving into the freezing air just as quickly. Snow had begun falling around them as Athena wove her spell, and now it slowly began to…stop.

                Alice felt as though the air in her lungs was freezing as well. The snowflakes around her were falling sluggishly, too slow to be natural, like flakes of ice slipping through syrup.

                Behind her Maya breathed, “the snow…it’s…”

                “Stopped,” the word left Alice’s lips in a puff of frozen air. Instead of dissipating, her breath hung in the air in front of her. All around them, the snowflakes stopped, suspended in mid-air. The sun was sinking behind the buildings on main street, and the fading light reflected off the snowflakes around them, sparkling off the intricate surfaces of the delicate lace-like crystals. Alice looked around in growing apprehension. The entire street seemed to be frozen in time. The one or two shoppers who’d been walking down the street were still, only the flicker of an eye lash and the puff of breath above their heads indicated they were anything but life-like statues. Athena had frozen time.

                She knew then, fear gnawing at her stomach, that there was no way she could best this spell. She’d never even seen anything like this. What could she possibly do that would be more magnificent than this, more impressive? Here was Athena, stopping time with a wave of her hands, when Alice hadn’t even known this was possible. Panic seemed to be freezing her to the spot, unless it was some side effect of the spell Athena was doing.

                She glanced back over her shoulder to see her friends staring around them with wide eyes. Altair and Gabriel both had their mouths hanging open, and Azura looked openly horrified. It was obvious what she was thinking. This wouldn’t even be a competition.

                Finally, after what seemed like an age, Athena lowered her arms slowly, hissing out a long breath through her teeth, “Ah, it’s like a drug, stopping time, ruling the laws of nature.” She let the threads slither off her arms, and they slowly floated up to the fabric awning of the shop, the electric colors glowing in the dim evening light. She turned and gave Alice a mocking smile, “your turn, little witch. Let’s see you weave your spell now.”

                Alice looked back at Shakra, desperate for some sign of help. What was she supposed to do now? She had nothing in her arsenal of spells that even came close to what Athena had just done. Azura and Shakra stepped closer, and Shakra grabbed her arm tightly, “you can do this, Alice. You work best under pressure.”

                Athena tapped her foot and sang out, “I’m waaaiting.”

                “Hush,” Styx told her sternly, “she is allowed to consult with her team before she starts weaving. There was no rule against it.”

                “I can’t do this,” Alice was aware that her voice was climbing in pitch, desperation and panic had seized her chest, knotting it until she felt like she couldn’t breath, “what can I do? What can I do that’s better than that?” She tried to keep her voice to a whisper. She couldn’t give Athena the satisfaction of hearing her lose her cool like this.

                “You are powerful, Alice,” Azura whispered, “more than you could possibly imagine.”  She seized Alice by the shoulders, her face deadly serious, “but you’re going to have to do something you’re afraid of, Alice. You’re going to have to open yourself up completely to the magic.”

                The memory of opening herself up to magic was nerve wracking, the feeling she’d had last time, of the magic crashing through her, of losing control. What if she went mad, what if she hurt someone she cared about?

                “Alice, it’s the only way.”

                She took a deep breath, straightening her shoulders, nodding, “alright. Okay.”

                “What are you going to do?” Azura whispered.

                “I have no clue,” Alice pushed back from them, “just keep clear of me.”

                “Are you finally ready?” Athena was playing with her hair, curling it between her fingers, “because I’m starting to get bored now.”

                “Alright,” she tried to push down the sick feeling in her stomach, though she really wouldn’t mind throwing up on Athena’s shoes right about now.