I smiled at him, as he so often did me. “I do.”
“Let’s go, boys,” Aery said, leading them back to the turbulent river.
Just as they disappeared from sight, my father appeared.
“Khara,” he called as he walked into the Great Hall. His expression soured when he took in those I had brought. Bad blood was an issue among the gods, and Hades had plenty. They had always treated him as lesser, or so I had heard, and given the treatment I had witnessed at the hands of his older brother, Zeus, I believed him. “I see you have found the remaining escapees.”
“My brothers and I have, Father—and we found Demeter, too.” He cast his mother-in-law a glance that gave nothing away, then returned his haughty stare to me. “Dionysus has information regarding the one who hunts me. He wishes to trade it for accommodations in the Elysian Fields for himself and the others.”
Fury flashed in my father’s eyes. “Does he, now? How convenient that he is now willing to share it, though he was not when my reign and my life were in jeopardy.”
Dionysus offered an ambivalent shrug. “It was not advantageous for me to do so at the time. Now, it is.”
“So you think.”
The former god of wine cocked his head. “Would you pass up the chance to procure information about where the one you fear hides away? Because you and I both know how dangerous he is—what he is capable of. Would you wish that fate on your precious Khara?”
Though Hades stood stoic in the face of Dionysus’ challenge, I knew that fear coursed through him, clouding his judgment. The gods did not deserve to wander the peaceful Elysian Fields, designated for the most noble of the fallen, such as my dead brothers. To sully such a place with their presence was beneath my father and would undermine his reign. But I could see the war within him—his desire to keep me safe.
He had already agreed to let his wife whore herself for information about Phobos. I knew he would sell a piece of his soul for more.
“You know that this information is true?” he asked, stepping toward Dionysus.
“I do—”
“It would be unwise to lie to the one who owns your soul for eternity, old one. I have nothing but time and power that I will gladly use to torture you until my anger is sated should your information prove to be false, or worse yet, a trap.”
Any bravado Dionysus had mustered bled away at the thought of a fate worse than the Oudeis, and that fear was warranted. The truth in my father’s words rang out around us. There would be no end to their suffering should his information be a betrayal in any way.
“Do we have a deal?” Dionysus asked, finally finding his tongue.
“Whatever information you have about the fear god that can help protect Khara from him, in exchange for your souls to be kept in the Elysian Fields,” Hades said, extending his hand to the former god.
“Agreed,” Dionysus said, clasping his forearm, as Hades did his. “Now, take me there at once. I wish to see someone.”
“Cass is not there,” I said. The god’s expression devolved to rage in an instant.
“Where is he?”
“Above, with the others. I took them all to Detroit.”
Hermes’ maniacal laughter rang out behind us, and I turned to find him lurking in the shadows, wide eyes full of amusement.
“An army of the dead,” he muttered between outbursts. “It’s brilliant…the fear god will not expect that.”
“He did not, indeed. But tell me something, Hermes, are you in contact with him often?” I asked, edging toward him. “Because your remark makes me wonder if you are. If you have, in fact, spoken with him enough to know that truth.”
The messenger god shrugged, though his amusement quickly bled away. “I come when I am summoned by whoever summons me. You know this.”
“Then that would mean that you, too, know where he is.”
He nodded. “I do, but that was not where I was summoned. And I cannot go to the place Dionysus speaks of.”
I contemplated his words as my father’s anger finally burst. “Where is he?” he bellowed.
“It is called the Always and Never,” Dionysus said. “There is little known about how to find it. It is rumored to be a realm all its own, created by Phobos himself when his mind fractured after the death of his sister.”
“I am unable to locate it,” Hermes offered, “and you know there are precious few places that I cannot travel.”
I did know this. The refuge of the Light—the Hallowed Gates—was one. The home of the Dark—the in-between, where Phobos’ brother Deimos could tread—was another. Apparently, the Always and Never was one, as well.
“How does this help Khara,” Hades asked, the anger in his voice thinly veiled, “if you do not know where it is?” His gaze cut from Dionysus to Hermes. “And you cannot take her there?”
Just as my father began his interrogation, something far more pressing arrived. Persephone, followed by Deimos, walked into the Great Hall. The former stopped before her husband. The latter passed through, sparing only a concerned stare for me before disappearing into the maze of halls beyond.
I turned my attention back to Persephone, who stood before the King of the Underworld in silence, as though she were awaiting his judgment. The act seemed so strange from her—a being rumored to have little to no remorse for any of her salacious actions—and yet there she was, looking up at her husband, her king, as though the next thing he said might undo her.
His hands reached out to cup her face, and he leaned down to grace her cheek with a gentle kiss. “I am glad you are back,” he said, giving nothing of her mission away to the others. “How did you fare?”
Persephone dared a glance back at me. Then her gaze drifted beyond me to the gods, and her warm stare went cold as ice.
“Mother,” she said, pulling away from Hades. “What are you doing here?”
“I found her,” I replied in Demeter’s stead, “and I was unwilling to let her out of my sight.”
“Clever girl,” Persephone cooed as the mask of the indifferent queen fell smoothly into place as though it had never left. As though the raw emotion I had just witnessed from her had been a figment of my imagination. “Perhaps we should keep her here for now—for her own safety, of course.”
“I could not agree more, Sister,” I said, turning to face the woman who had raised me out of obligation, not out of love. Never in a million years would she have expected her beloved Persephone to align herself with the orphaned angel she had traded to buy herself time with her true daughter. The one she loved with all her being, whose time in the Underworld she had always mourned.
Anger etched deep into her features as her gaze landed on me, then drifted to something beyond.
I turned to see a Dark One approaching. One that looked as angry as Demeter.
Oz landed not far from me and quickly closed the distance, until he stood so close to me that his arm pressed against mine.
“Seems like my invitation to the party got lost, new girl.” His casual tone belied his true feelings. His barely bridled rage curled around him like an errant soul.
“That was not intentional,” I replied in an attempt to appease him as the others looked on.
But Demeter had other plans. She sidestepped Persephone so she could glare at Oz. My partner. My shadow. Seeing him had done nothing to improve her mood.
“You again,” she said, her voice like steel. “I thought you said I would never see you again once you left her with me.”
He shrugged. “And I thought you’d do what you agreed to, yet here we are…”
His ambivalent tone did little to hide the contempt he held for her, and I knew that if she pushed him, she would never leave the Underworld; he would personally see her dead for her shortcomings where I was concerned. And Hades, I, and quite possibly Persephone, would do nothing to stop him.
“I would not push the Dark One,” I said, putting myself between them. “I managed to keep him at bay when I came to your home looking for
Persephone. It was a Herculean feat I could not repeat again, even if I wanted to.”
“Which you don’t.” The malice in her tone was thick and warranted.
“My love,” Persephone said, turning to Hades, “perhaps it would be wise to remove my mother before she says something she cannot take back. I’m sure we can make accommodations for her—temporarily, of course.” She cast a wicked look over her shoulder at me. “We could make her as comfortable as she made Khara for all those years.”
Demeter went pale with realization, and Hades smiled with delight. “Nothing would make me happier, my love.” He walked over to Demeter and took her gently by the elbow. “This way, please.” Then he cast a look over his shoulder at Dionysus and the others. “You can follow, or you can be hauled away. The choice is yours. Consider it the last one you’ll ever be able to make freely.”
“Except for Hermes,” I said, drawing my father’s attention. “We may have use for him still.”
My father gave a curt nod, then headed toward the maze of corridors that filled the Underworld. As expected, the former gods filed in behind him as he entered the hall leading to the Elysian Fields. Persephone came to my side and tucked my arm in the crook of hers.
“We have much to discuss, Sister.”
“Like what?” Oz asked.
“Like all that I learned from Ares when I was finished with him.”
“Great,” he replied, his tone acerbic and cold. “You can get to that once I find out why the fuck new girl here went rogue without me.”
“Because you were busy with my mother, and once my brothers and I found the gods’ trail, there was no time to lose,” I answered. “And I have information for you, too.”
“What a forthcoming duo you two are,” he said with a snarl.
Hermes’ laughter seeped from the shadows once again. “You do not know the half of it.”
Oz looked over his shoulder to where the messenger god stood. “What’s that creepy fucker doing here?”
“He was with the others, so I made him join us.”
Oz shook his head and returned his attention to Persephone just as my father walked in. “So, what did you learn?”
She waited for Hades to join us, then began her tale, carefully editing it for his benefit. “Ares knows where his son is—”
“We have already ascertained that he is in the Always and Never per Dionysus’ account.”
She cocked a brow in approval as she smiled. “Well done, Sister, but did he know how to destroy the fear god? Because I feel that is truly the information you need.”
“No. He did not,” I replied, looking at her expectantly.
“The Always and Never must be destroyed to eliminate the fear god,” she explained. “Ares was quite clear about that when I spun my tale to gain his confidence and learn his secrets. Ares’ weakness always was his arrogance. He believes himself to be so much smarter than everyone else that he is willing to part with information too easily—under the right circumstances.” She shot my father an apologetic look, and he placed his hand on her shoulder for comfort, though which of them needed it more remained unclear.
“And if he’s lying?” Oz countered. “If your arrogance leads you to believe what he’s saying when it’s really a trap of sorts?”
I shook my head. “Ares still wants me to overthrow Sean. I cannot do that if I am locked away in another realm with his insane son. Perhaps that is why he had Deimos stay so close to me, both here and above. Why he himself kept his distance until the fear god returned and he could no longer do so.”
“Or he’s a manipulative motherfucker who’s spun a mighty web that we’re all walking into.”
“But he could not have known what I would become one day. He could only have hoped that I would become as powerful as Sean—or more.”
Oz’s brow furrowed. “Maybe…”
“Persephone’s information aligns with what Dionysus said and what I feel to be true,” I added, as though that might sway his mind.
“The Dark One is not wrong to be suspicious of this,” Hades said, surprising us all, especially Oz. “Ares’ ability to strategize is unparalleled, and he lacks a moral code.”
“But he loathes Sean more than any other being in existence,” Persephone argued, her expression darkening, “a trait I understand well. I would not waste an opportunity to hurt the leader of the PC, nor would Ares. How do you think I got this information in the first place?” she asked. “Aside from the obvious.” I stared at her blankly. “Your twin and I have a history, Khara, one that I choose not to hold against you, but make no mistake about it; Sean and I are far from friends or allies, a fact that Ares is all too aware of. I used that to conspire against your twin in the service of obtaining this information.”
“Did he tell you of his plans for Sean?” I asked, wondering if her answer could be trusted.
She shook her head, and a strand of her long, dark hair fell free. “Your twin was not the subject of conversation, only a mutual enemy upon which much of our trust is built. Nothing more.”
“You already know what Ares wants to do to Sean, new girl. There’s not much else to learn there.”
Begrudgingly, I agreed.
“Were you able to ascertain where this Always and Never is? How one can get to it?”
Persephone shook her head. “Either Ares does not know, or he was not willing to share. Pushing him too hard would have tipped my hand. And he is too smart to be so easily used.”
I nodded, thoughts of how to obtain that information running through my mind.
“Well, if I am no longer needed here, I’m afraid duty calls,” Hermes said, rushing toward the Acheron as though worried my father might stop him. Had he not proven himself beneficial to us before, he would have already been in the Elysian Fields with the others and Demeter. He took flight with a graceful leap into the air and was out of sight in a blink, headed for only he knew where. I could not help but wonder if the fear god had summoned him before. Or if he was summoning him now.
“We should head back, too,” Oz said in my ear.
“Yes,” Hades said, moving to hug me, “you should return above. If anything here changes, I will send word.”
He took Persephone by the hand and led her from the room. She looked back at me over her shoulder and gave a curt nod that meant both everything and nothing.
“Shall we?” Oz asked, heading for the Acheron.
“I will be right there,” I said as I watched him go. I knew that I should follow, but my mind was racing and my body was tight, and I just wanted a moment of peace before returning to the chaos and impending doom in Detroit.
So I did not follow him.
Instead, I headed for the River Styx.
14
“Where are you going?” Oz asked as he rounded the corner to the one place that had long been my sanctuary in the Underworld. For whatever reason, I needed to see it—to let its calm façade inspire my own—for worry plagued me, and I could not shake it. Could not escape the feeling that Phobos’ wicked plan would come to fruition no matter what we did.
“I just want to sit for a moment. Be alone with my thoughts.”
“But you’re not alone.”
“This is as close as I come these days.” I looked over my shoulder at the Dark One and let a small smile tug at my lips.
“Finally, she gets with the program.”
“I got with the program long ago, Oz.”
He pulled up beside me and flashed his once-infuriating smirk. “Yeah, ya did. Quite a few times now, if memory serves.”
“It does.”
At that, he laughed. “So what’s with the solo side quest?”
I shrugged before I sat on the riverbank and tucked my knees to my chest. “There is so much uncertainty above right now. So many unknowns. Too many in harm’s way.”
“They chose to be there,” he said, his tone stern, “so don’t go feeling guilty about that. They know what’s headed our way, and they remain regard
less. That is the life of a warrior. Don’t begrudge them that honor.”
I turned to face him. “I imagine it has been a long time since you have spoken of honor. The Light Ones stole yours from you, an injustice that still stokes the Dragon’s fire within me if I let my mind linger there too long.”
“They got what they had coming to them.”
“And does it feel like justice has been served?”
His gaze drifted to the placid water before us. “No.”
“Why not?”
“Because that’s not how betrayal works. It isn’t erased with the deaths of those who betrayed you.”
I shifted toward him. “Then what would sate that feeling?”
He hesitated. “To regain my former position.”
“Is that what you want? To stand at the right hand of my mother?”
He shook his head. “Not anymore. Too much has changed since then.”
“So, this feeling will linger for eternity, then?” I asked, thinking that that was a form of punishment in and of itself.
“I don’t think so…”
My brow furrowed with confusion. “I do not understand—”
“I lost my purpose the day my wings were cut and I was cast out,” he said, allowing his eyes to drift back to me, “or at least I thought I did. But then this batshit crazy girl from the Underworld waltzed into The Tenth Circle and turned my world on its ass. The reason my wings had been cut in the first place turned out to be the one thing that could save me from myself.”
I silently contemplated his words. “Are you saying that I give you purpose?” I asked softly.
“You give me something,” he replied, no hint of mocking in his tone, “that’s for damn sure.”
I let that thought settle before speaking. Oz was so rarely forthcoming and even more seldom serious, and yet, sitting there next to the River Styx, he had not held back his emotions. Instead, he had allowed me a glimpse into his psyche—his motivations and feelings—and I could not help but feel overwhelmed.
“You give me something as well,” I said, leaning forward on my knees.
“A headache?”
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