With a shaking hand, she removed a piece of something wet and slimy that left a shimmering trail on the platter. Bringing it closer to her face, she gagged, then quickly recovered. “Looks great. What is it?”
“I’m not sure.” The god turned from them and shouted toward the back of the hall, “Hey, did you guys make the lamb like I asked?”
While the god was turned, Cerberus’s left snout snatched the morsel from her hand, leaving it covered in a thick, viscous slobber. There was a muffled voice coming from somewhere, inhuman and mostly garbles, and as the god shouted back at it, Nikeros leaned over Korinna and grabbed the whole tray from the skeleton, tossing the contents at the dog whose heads made quick work of it all.
Hades turned back to them, and Korinna slapped her stomach. “Wow, so good, right guys?” The others tripped over themselves to agree, and Hades looked absolutely delighted.
He clapped. “I can have the daimons whip up some more!”
“No!” They shouted back as a chorus.
“Oh, okay, uh,”—the god nervously shuffled before them—“Next up is the entertainment!” He gestured frantically to the skeletal creatures who broke their ranks, knocking into one another as they scurried this way and that. Suddenly, black stone benches were being placed behind the group, sweeping under them and forcing them to sit. Hades whistled, and from behind a pillar a monstrous looking creature with deep violet skin, yellow eyes, and two serpent-shaped tails skulked. He dragged behind him a flat cart upon which a man was strapped, secured at both wrists and ankles.
“What’s this now?” Korinna asked breathlessly as Hades plopped down beside her.
“Oh, that’s Eurynomos,” Hades whispered, giddily watching, “You’re gonna love this, he is a master of his craft.”
The daimon turned its head to the group and slowly pulled back its lips to reveal teeth sharpened to fine points. The tied-down man let out a screech as the daimon reached for his stomach and pulled up the man’s tunic.
“Hey, what’s uh…what’s Eurynomos’s craft exactly?” She wanted very badly to look away but found she could not.
“Don’t worry.” Hades shrugged. “He totally deserves it. You should have seen what a prick he was in life.”
Korinna squinted, squeezing her fists, terrified that she might replace the man if she said anything, but fighting the urge to not see something so horrible. The daimon bent down over its captive and opened its jaws.
“Wait.” Hades put up a hand and Eurynomos grunted but paused. The god stood cautiously, then turned to look out over his guests. “You guys don’t look like you’re having fun at all.”
“Is this supposed to be fun?” Calix balked.
Korinna held her breath, expecting the god to explode. Hades pulled himself up to his full height, towering over the six, his eyes, black as pitch, narrowing. And then, the god of the Underworld completely deflated. “I just thought…it’d be nice…to welcome you.” His voice trailed off into the shadows around them.
Korinna watched the god kick aimlessly at the ground. There that feeling was again. “Well, it might not have been exactly to our taste, but it was really nice.”
Hades peeked at her.
“Yeah,” Phille piped up, “You put in a lot of effort.”
“I really did,” Hades mumbled.
“Are you two mad?” Calix grumbled, “His dog nearly ate us, and we were almost poisoned.”
Erepho snorted, “And his idea of a show is literal torture.”
“And we didn’t even have to battle anything to get in here!” Andreas slammed his fists onto his thighs.
Korinna glared at the three. “Shut up!” Carefully she looked back at Hades, but the god’s shoulders had fallen. “Don’t listen to them, they’re complete idiots.”
“No, they’re right,” the god’s voice fell into a drone as he paced away from them, “It’s just that no one ever comes down here, and my social skills are a little rough.”
“You don’t say.”
Korinna elbowed Calix then started after the god. “All of this really was a nice gesture, it’s just that you hear all these stories about Hades and you kind of expect the worst coming down here, ya know?”
“Yeah.” Hades dragged himself a little closer to his throne and stared up at it. “Everybody thinks I’m this big bad guy, but it’s not my fault I got the short straw. Now nobody ever wants to hang out with me. Even the dead people.”
Phille’s voice was quiet, “Oh, that’s really sad.”
“No, it’s not so bad. I don’t really like people that much anyway. I just thought maybe I should try.” Hades’s shoulders rose and fell with a massive sigh. “Well, I guess I’ve wasted enough of your time. I know it’s not infinite for you guys.”
Korinna’s heartbeat quickened. “We actually kinda needed something from you.”
“Oh, that’s right.” With a snap, Prince Leon appeared at his side. “You can take this one. It’s the least I can do.”
Phille pushed past the others and ran into the prince’s arms. Korinna watched as they embraced tightly, and her heart skipped. She looked back quickly at Nikeros, and then to Hades who also appeared pleased by the whole thing. The god nodded, more to himself, then gestured to the palace entrance. “I can get you back to the river up on Gaia as well and call Hermes to come get you.”
Korinna tapped her lip with a finger. She looked over at Nikeros as if to say, Listen, I know this is totally out there and you’re probably gonna say it’s a bad idea, but hear me out: This guy might be a huge downer, I won’t argue with you there, but I don’t think he’s really so bad. In fact, get him around some other people and out of this dark, dank hole, and he might actually be a lot of fun! Well probably not, but I’m just saying, we’ll never know if we don’t let him try, and he just gave us your brother back like it was nothing, so I think if any of the gods deserve a chance, it’s definitely this one. What do you say?
And the demigod eyed her with a nod, Agreed.
CHAPTER XXXVIII
Hades’s chariot burst forth from the ground at a speed with which Korinna had not yet experienced. They flew across the night sky, pulled by four black stallions, seven of them piled into the back and the god of the Underworld at the helm. It didn’t occur to Korinna that she couldn’t invite the last Olympian to the party, but it did occur to her that she could ask Phille to invite him to her wedding, to which the princess readily and happily agreed.
When they touched back down on the cliff of the summit isle, the rest of the Olympians looked absolutely haggard, crowns eschew, tunics stained, and if you’ve never seen the circles that gods get under their eyes, well, then you’ve never experienced what it’s like to live through a party that lasts weeks but is masked by a single night. Most of the partygoers had passed out in the bowl below, though there were a dedicated few, leaning against one another, one hand wrapped around a goblet and the other pumping slowly into the air. One of Erepho’s band mates was banging without any tempo against a massive drum, and most of the Oceanids were floating aimlessly in the ponds that dotted the basin.
Hades jumped out of the chariot, and the gods took notice immediately. Before anyone could say anything, Korinna announced he had so graciously accepted their invitation and in return was sending Leon’s soul back to Gaia for as long as the boy could manage to stay alive this time. They were too tired to argue or even stupidly say anything back, and in fact seemed to be full of a new vigor when the prince was reunited with his body. With a clap of thunder loud enough to wake the gods, Zeus announced there would be one last hurrah, and the mortals and demigods in the basin jumped to life.
The suitors, though, had lost all their fire, and when they made it back down to the celebration, the three found a single bench onto which they all collapsed and immediately fell asleep in one another’s laps. Korinna was glad to be rid of them for the moment, looking out as the partygoers were spun up again all around, the musicians energetically manning their instruments, and
Dionysus snapping up a new set of full wine barrels.
Zeus and Poseidon had embraced Hades, but just as quickly ran off after a group of nymphs, leaving the god of the Underworld to stand uncomfortably beside Korinna. She glanced up at his tall form, shifting from one foot to another, and scratched her head. Then, her fingers found the orchid that had been tucked into her hair, and with a gasp, her eyes fell on the diminutive goddess she’d met earlier in the latrine. “Hey,”—she tapped him on the arm and pointed her out—“I think I know somebody who’s dying to meet you.”
After a little encouragement, she watched him apprehensively approach her, and though she couldn’t hear what they said, she could read the delight in the goddess’s face. Korinna’s eyes trailed up to the sky, now clear save for the bright, full moon above. It was absolutely lovely.
Then she felt a set of eyes on her. Nikeros was staring from the other side of where Hades had been. He opened his mouth to say something, but Leon came up to him then, grabbing his arm and pulling him into a tight embrace. Phille hugged the Erote as well, and they both began gesturing wildly at him, pulling him into some conversation. Korinna bit her lip and stepped away from where they were into the shadows.
“So,”—the voice had a hint of a smile but rolled darkly off its owner’s tongue—“You actually did it.”
Korinna looked back to see Aphrodite smirking at her. “I didn’t exactly have a choice. I mean, this marriage is kind of a big deal.” She peeked out from behind the tree she’d hidden behind to see Nikeros and his brother laughing together. “And look how happy he is.”
The goddess sighed, blowing her curls out of her face. “No, dummy, I mean—”
“Hey!” Korinna whipped back toward her and grabbed her arms. “I have something important to tell you.”
Aphrodite glanced furtively at the mortal’s hands, but Korinna refused to let go. She needed her to listen.
“Anteros, he didn’t—well, I guess he did shoot Phille and Leon, but this whole thing? Not his idea. It was Nikeros’s, and he’ll never say it, but he deserves credit. You should at least give him another chance after me. He loves being an Erote, and I—” Korinna’s voice caught in her throat as she looked back at Aphrodite’s shocked expression, finally realizing what she was doing. She let the goddess go and stepped back, wrapping her arms around herself. “He’s a nice guy, and he doesn’t deserve to be kicked out.”
Korinna felt heat in her face, but then Aphrodite reached out and touched her face, telling her simply, “I know.”
There was light then, a rosy brightness that Korinna felt like she hadn’t seen in ages as the sun broke over the horizon of the basin. Aphrodite’s face lit up as she squealed, “The wedding! Oh, I just love weddings!”
And so Prince Leon and Princess Phille were wed on the beach of the summit isle that morning with the gods in attendance in one human mask or another. Theopopolis and Dorinth had come together, vowing peace and tranquility, and in the end, they all lived happily ever after.
Excuse me, what?
What?
Isn’t there a lot more to deal with here?
Oh, you mean the whole suitor thing? Right. I got kind of caught up in the Hades-arc. But, like, the prince and princess do live happily ever after.
Do they?
Yeah, the wedding was really beautiful, and everybody cried. They had three kids who helped to unify the countries and spread peace throughout the Mediterranean. I mean, for a while anyway. It was all pretty great.
Okay, but I feel like you’re skipping over some really important parts.
Well, that’s a little messier.
CHAPTER XXXIX
The last thing Korinna remembered was wishing Phille and Leon well. Then, she was in the center of the pottery barn, the one of Zafolas fame, just on the outskirts of town. It felt like waking from a long dream to be back, but also like she’d never left, inhaling the scent of clay and paint. She would have thought the last few, well, however long it had been, was indeed a figment of sleep as she walked between the painters’ tables if not for when she looked up to see three gods staring back at her amidst half-finished vases and blocks of soft clay.
“The fun and games are over.” Hera clapped her hands together, a sound that resonated through the building.
“I don’t know what your definition of fun is,” Korinna said, “but that was not exactly it for me.”
Apollo was admiring an urn with several figures on it in curious poses. “Well, it was certainly fun for some of us.”
“Regardless.” Athena stood straight, her helm under one arm. “It is time to choose so our quarrel over Theodotus can be decided.”
“I keep hearing that name.” Korinna screwed up her face. “Who on Gaia is Theodotus?”
“Hey, who do you think is running this thing?” Aphrodite appeared at their side with Nikeros just next to her. She smirked and then snapped her fingers. In a puff of pink smoke and a spray of lavender blossoms, three figures appeared in the center of the barn. Andreas, Calix, and Erepho stood stark still, with chins pointed upward and chests thrust out, but instead of the shock one would expect them to express at being suddenly teleported to an unknown place smeared across their faces, they wore stoic, almost statuesque looks. The men were very much there, but not at all there at the same time. Korinna took a few measured steps up to Erepho’s form and flicked his forehead, eliciting no reaction. It would be easier, at least, without their indulgent, puppy-love-infused talk to distract her, but the gods each stepped up to their chosen champions, and Korinna could see the eagerness in all their faces.
Aphrodite crossed the workspace with a graceful, long stride, pulling Nikeros along with her. She placed a hand gently on the Erote’s shoulder and guided him to stand with her, the other gods, and the suitors. Now, they were all peering expectantly at her, and she stood alone. “So, my dear, dear Korinna, I am sure the choice will be terribly difficult to make, but you have had sufficient time with all of these men—”
“Hardly!” Hera crossed her arms and sneered, “You both butted in on my time.”
“Oh, please.” Apollo lolled his head back, an arm draped over Erepho’s form. “Mine didn’t even get to be alone with her.” He gripped Erepho by the chin though he did not move. “Not that that should matter since he’s the clear winner.”
Korinna started to chew on a fingernail. “Actually…”
“What could possibly be clear about that?” Athena cut in, her hawk-like, gray eyes set on the sun (and plague) god. “Your bard couldn’t catch dinner if he were starving, let alone the eye of this mortal. Why would she pick him when this strapping warrior is an option?” With a thud, the goddess flailed out her spear and smacked the frozen form of Andreas across the chest.
“Well,” Hera snorted, waggling her eyebrows at Korinna, “For someone who’s supposedly so good at strategy, she sure didn’t think this one through, huh? Who could be a better match than a man who you don’t have to constantly be responsible for?”
Hera was staring at Korinna as if she expected an answer, but when Apollo began laughing, she was quick to turn to him and start yelling. Athena chimed in, and even Aphrodite raised her voice, saying something about how they were all way too confident.
Korinna felt momentary relief at the fighting, sighing and glancing at Nikeros. He returned her look as if to say, I’m sorry they are so concerned with which among them will win this thing—they’re gods and though I’m loath to admit it, sometimes they can be a little self-centered—but this is what we have been preparing for, so don’t worry about what you think they want, worry about what you want. You have a choice to make, and I’m confident you will make the right one.
Korinna stared at him for a long moment, feeling her face fall, and without words, she told him, Actually…
“Well, Mortal? Who shall it be?”
Quiet settled on the barn with Hera’s sharp words, and Korinna swallowed hard. Her heartbeat was in her ears, the eyes of too many being
s able to snap their fingers and turn her into a laurel tree or transport her into the middle of the Aegean Sea were on her, and she wanted to throw up. Placing a hand on her stomach, she quelled the nausea long enough to open her mouth. Preparing to disappoint an entire room of people was plenty stressful, but gods? “Unfortunately—”
The door to the barn slammed open, and even the gods jumped. Standing in the frame was a very exhausted, very sweaty, very pregnant woman, her face wine-red.
“Daphne!” Korinna ran across the barn to her friend, slipping an arm under her and wobbling under the weight. Nikeros ran up beside her, and the two guided her to one of the painter’s seats.
“I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” the woman managed to say between gasps, “I hadn’t seen you in so long, I was beginning to think you actually ran away, and—” Daphne froze mid belly rub, her eyes growing large and her muscles tensing. She suddenly took short, sharp breaths, and grabbed Korinna’s hand, squeezing it to the point she thought it might break, then the moment seemed to pass, and she acted as if it hadn’t happened at all. “And I wasn’t sure what to do. Hey, who are all these people?”
The gods were watching, surprised, confused, annoyed.
“Don’t worry about them.” Korinna flexed her fingers, now free of her friend’s grip, and pointed at her belly. “How long has that been going on?”
“Oh, about nine moons.”
“I mean the pain!”
“Oh! Right, well,” Daphne laughed, “Practically all day. It took me twice as long to get here as it should have, I had to keep stopping every few steps, and—” Again, the woman gasped and reached out, grabbing both Nikeros and Korinna’s hands this time. She squealed in a pitch almost too high for human ears (but deep down in Hades, Cerberus’s three heads each stopped chewing on their errant bones to listen). Silently, Nikeros and Korinna stared at one another in agony until she let them go. “By Hestia, that was a big one. It’s been a real pain in the you-know-what.”
The Korinniad Page 21