into
her silver ballet flats. Seconds later she was walking the path to the village, heading for
her favorite refuge: the pantheon temple. Perched on a cliff overlooking the gorgeous
Aegean below, the pantheon temple was built as a tribute to all the gods and goddesses
teralynnchilds.com
© Tera Lynn Childs
The Twelve Days of Stella
5
of Olympic descent in an attempt to diffuse any arguments about preferred patron
deities and the like. Not that anything could prevent the gods from arguing.
The temple was rarely used anymore. The gods didn’t visit the island with any
regularity, and the residents didn’t feel compelled to pay formal tribute. Which meant
that Stella usually found the temple deserted—the perfect environment for clear
thinking.
As she climbed the shallow steps and passed through the colonnade to enter the temple
proper, she felt a growing sense of calm and clarity. There was something about the
brightly colored mural the covered every square inch of the interior walls that just ...
made her smile. It portrayed all the gods and goddesses in their most resplendent glory.
Like a massive and ancient family portrait.
Stella went, as she always did, to stand before the goddess on the far wall. The one
wearing a beautiful golden crown, holding a plump pomegranate in her elegant hand,
and with a proud peacock lying across her feet. Hera.
It had been years since Stella met with her immortal ancestor. The great deities rarely
left Olympus anymore, and Stella hadn’t had time—or an invitation—to attend their
court. If she couldn’t speak to Hera face-to-face, then this was the next best thing.
She lifted a hand to run her fingertips over the gilded sandals on Hera’s feet, but
stopped when she heard footsteps echoing into the temple.
Startled, she turned to see who else still visited the temple, and was even more shocked
to see Phoebe’s friend, Troy, hurrying inside. He was carrying a cloth bag in his
outstretched hands, eyeing it nervously as if it might bite at any second.
***
“Travatas?” Stella asked, trying to determine what might be in the
bag. “What are you—“
“Aaaack!” he screamed, dropping the bag and then quickly
retrieving it when it started to wriggle away. The bag grasped
firmly in one hand, he glared at Stella. “You scared the crap out of
me! I didn’t think anyone visited the temple anymore.”
Stella arched a brow. “Neither did I.”
“Oh.” He gave her an apologetic look. “Sorry. I guess you were here
first.” Reversing course, he backed toward the door. “I’ll go. Let you finish your, uh—“
“No!” Stella blurted, then readjusted her composure. “I mean, you’re welcome to stay.
teralynnchilds.com
© Tera Lynn Childs
The Twelve Days of Stella
6
It’s a public place.”
Troy glanced at the bag. “Um, I think I should come back later.” The bag wriggled
again. He muttered, “Or maybe not at all.”
Now she was more curious than anything. What was in that bag?
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she insisted, crossing the temple until she stood in front of him at
the entrance. “You’re obviously here to,” —she gestured at the wriggling bag—“make
an offering of some sort. You should present it.”
Arms crossed over her chest, Stella stifled a laugh at the miserable look on Troy’s face.
He looked like she’d asked him to kiss a frog. But she wanted to know what was
wriggling inside that bag, so she adopted her most intimidating look—she had many—
and waited. She could sense him weighing his choices. Although she could read his
thoughts if she tried—a power she had inherited from her ancestor goddess—she
preferred watching and guessing. Made her feel ... more human.
Finally, his shoulders slumped.
“Okay,” he said. “If you’d wait outside, this’ll just take a second.”
Stella shook her head slowly. “No thank you. I won’t be in your way.” She stepped aside
and gestured into
her silver ballet flats. Seconds later she was walking the path to the village, heading for
her favorite refuge: the pantheon temple. Perched on a cliff overlooking the gorgeous
Aegean below, the pantheon temple was built as a tribute to all the gods and goddesses
teralynnchilds.com
© Tera Lynn Childs
The Twelve Days of Stella
5
of Olympic descent in an attempt to diffuse any arguments about preferred patron
deities and the like. Not that anything could prevent the gods from arguing.
The temple was rarely used anymore. The gods didn’t visit the island with any
regularity, and the residents didn’t feel compelled to pay formal tribute. Which meant
that Stella usually found the temple deserted—the perfect environment for clear
thinking.
As she climbed the shallow steps and passed through the colonnade to enter the temple
proper, she felt a growing sense of calm and clarity. There was something about the
brightly colored mural the covered every square inch of the interior walls that just ...
made her smile. It portrayed all the gods and goddesses in their most resplendent glory.
Like a massive and ancient family portrait.
Stella went, as she always did, to stand before the goddess on the far wall. The one
wearing a beautiful golden crown, holding a plump pomegranate in her elegant hand,
and with a proud peacock lying across her feet. Hera.
It had been years since Stella met with her immortal ancestor. The great deities rarely
left Olympus anymore, and Stella hadn’t had time—or an invitation—to attend their
court. If she couldn’t speak to Hera face-to-face, then this was the next best thing.
She lifted a hand to run her fingertips over the gilded sandals on Hera’s feet, but
stopped when she heard footsteps echoing into the temple.
Startled, she turned to see who else still visited the temple, and was even more shocked
to see Phoebe’s friend, Troy, hurrying inside. He was carrying a cloth bag in his
outstretched hands, eyeing it nervously as if it might bite at any second.
***
“Travatas?” Stella asked, trying to determine what might be in the
bag. “What are you—“
“Aaaack!” he screamed, dropping the bag and then quickly
retrieving it when it started to wriggle away. The bag grasped
firmly in one hand, he glared at Stella. “You scared the crap out of
me! I didn’t think anyone visited the temple anymore.”
Stella arched a brow. “Neither did I.”
“Oh.” He gave her an apologetic look. “Sorry. I guess you were here
first.” Reversing course, he backed toward the door. “I’ll go. Let you finish your, uh—“
“No!” Stella blurted, then readjusted her composure. “I mean, you’re welcome to stay.
teralynnchilds.com
© Tera Lynn Childs
The Twelve Days of Stella
6
It’s a public place.”
Troy glanced at the bag. “Um, I think I should come back later.” The bag wriggled
again. He muttered, “Or maybe not at all.”
Now she was more curious than anything. What was in that bag?
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she insisted, crossing the temple until she stood in front of him at
the entrance. “You’re obviously here to,” —she gestured at the wriggling bag—“make
an offering of some sort. You should present it.”
Arms crossed over her chest, Stella stifled a laugh at the miserable look on Troy’s face.
He looked like she’d asked him to kiss a frog. But she wanted to know what was
wriggling inside that bag, so she adopted her most intimidating look—she had many—
and waited. She could sense him weighing his choices. Although she could read his
thoughts if she tried—a power she had inherited from her ancestor goddess—she
preferred watching and guessing. Made her feel ... more human.
Finally, his shoulders slumped.
“Okay,” he said. “If you’d wait outside, this’ll just take a second.”
Stella shook her head slowly. “No thank you. I won’t be in your way.” She stepped aside
and gestured into
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