“Thank you.” I know his compliment is a backhanded dig at how I looked when I arrived, but I don’t care. “Monstrat said I needed to see Hades?”
Nereus glances over his shoulder at the thick wood door dotted with rivets. There’s only silence on the other side but that’s probably because the room is spelled to keep out eavesdroppers.
“You’ll have to wait,” Nereus says when he turns back to me. “Haven is with him now. Makes sense he’d want to meet first with the one favored to win.”
Heat immediately surges to my cheeks. Did Haven tell his brother what the Fates told him? The question is poised on the tip of my tongue, that’s how badly I want to know what Haven was given at the Well of Moirai. But I quickly swallow it back. I won’t give Nereus the satisfaction. I know that’s exactly why he brought it up in the first place.
Instead, I decide to bite back.
“Haven might be favored to win, but is he destined to win?” I say absently like we’re conversing over morning tea. “After all,” I shrug, “if Haven was already destined to win, then why would Hades need to send us to the Moirai?”
Nereus visibly bristles. “If you think you’re stronger than Haven, you’re wrong.”
“Stronger? No. But more powerful?” I let the question hang in the air.
I think we both know the answer to that one.
And it’s in this moment that I finally allow myself to believe it.
I am more powerful than Haven. If only I could better learn how to control my magic.
But if I could, would I want to? And what would that mean for Haven’s fate?
“And what wisdom did the Fates gift you?” Nereus asks distantly, like the answer doesn’t matter.
I lean against the opposite wall and cross my arms over my chest. When I arrived at Hades’s House, I knew nothing about playing war games of the mind, but Hades’s descendants—Knightfalls in particular—are masters at it.
I’ve been playing checkers this entire time while the Knightfalls are playing chess.
Even though I’m confused now on how I feel about Haven, my feelings about Nereus haven’t wavered.
In fact, every day I dislike him more and more.
I lift a hand and examine my nails as if this conversation is boring me. Then I say, “I’ll give you a hint…as much as I wished for it, I won’t be done with you for a good, long while.”
Nereus’s eyes widen and then he grits his teeth. “You’re lying.”
“Am I?”
He pushes away from the wall as if to reach out for me, but the door on Hades’s office clanks open and Nereus adjusts course. He turns to the door, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword attached to his belt.
When Haven steps out of Hades’s office, Nereus’s expression shifts to one of jovial older brother. “Come, brother,” Nereus says and starts off down the hall. “We have much to prepare before your final trial.”
Haven stalls and looks at me.
We haven’t spoken since arriving back at Hades’s House. We’ve barely spoken since our night in the Moirai mountain glade.
My face warms thinking about the things we did, the way he made me feel.
I don’t know what it is to treat sex casually and I’m not sure I ever want to know. Because what we did…it feels huge and important and life-altering.
It’s as if Haven gave me a part of himself and I gave him some of me.
There are so many things I want to say to him right now and all of those things rest like marbles on the tip of my tongue. It’s uncomfortable keeping them in. I want to get them out.
I want to tell him—fuck all this, fuck this stupid trial. Let’s run away. Let’s go someplace where the gods don’t dictate our every move, where our fates are only determined by the steps we decide to take together.
But as I open my mouth to get the words out, Nereus snaps his fingers from the end of the hallway and says, “Haven, hurry up. We have no time to waste.”
Haven blinks and the hard edges return to his face.
“Hearthtender,” Hades calls.
“Coming,” I say and when I turn back to Haven, he’s gone.
“Hearthtender. Sit.” Hades doesn’t even look up from whatever is on his desk as I walk in. There’s a shimmer in the air around him like heat waves rising off the black stone streets on the northern end of Olympus City.
I sit in one of the large leather chairs in front of his massive desk, surprised at how hard the seats are. All the powers in the universe and none of the gods ever seem to bother using any of them to make the furniture comfortable.
When I glance up, I find Hades’s dark eyes on me and a shiver rolls up my spine. It’s like he’s trying to read my soul. I make a mental note to ask Max if that’s something the God of the Underworld can actually do.
“Knightfall tells me your mission was a success,” Hades says.
“Did he?” I say because I want to know exactly what Haven told Hades. But Hades doesn’t fill in the blanks because he won’t stoop low enough to play games like Nereus.
“We did make it to the Well of Moirai, my lord,” I say when the heat of his stare propels me to blabber on. “The journey was not without its dangers, but we worked together, as you advised us we should.”
Hades steeples his fingers together. “Excellent. And were the Fates as direct in their message for you as they were for Knightfall?”
“I suppose that would depend on what they told him, my lord.” I hesitate, trying to carefully walk the line between curiosity and straight up cageyness. I can’t help but wonder why he wants to know so badly. Doesn’t he have some kind of direct, gods-only line to the Fates?
But Hades dodges me because he’s the God of the Underworld and I’m just an orphan.
“I sent the two of you to the Well because I wished to know what the Fates would share with you, Hearthtender. I only sent Knightfall along to be sure you arrived and returned safely.”
A flash of irritation warms in my chest. “You don’t think I’m capable of going to see the Fates by myself?”
“Did you feel Knightfall’s presence on the journey was unnecessary?” Hades returns, as though it should be obvious to me that Haven was a necessary requirement for my safety.
What did Haven tell him about our trip? It’s not like he has a great track record with being honest. And given the tone that Hades is using it seems unlikely that he’s speaking of Haven’s ability to provide a soft bed in the evenings. My face flames again.
And if he told more lies about my ability to defend us against attack, so help me, I will—
“Hearthtender,” Hades prompts and gestures at my hands.
I look down. Flames are practically leaping from my fingers. My hands are curled around the arms of the chair and the wood is charred around my grasp.
“Sorry.” I pull my hands away, embarrassed. I try to tamp down on the roiling irritation in my gut and the magic fizzles, along with the flames. “It’s just…I don’t think it bodes well for my eventual success in this competition if you think I need Haven’s protection to make it on a simple journey to the Fates.” I keep my voice even and my anger cooled. I’m offended that no one seems to think I’m capable of staying alive without Haven there to rescue me.
Hades’s expression softens. “In my vast experience, nothing about the Fates is ever simple. And perhaps I’ve underestimated your ability. There are those in my court who would have bet significant amounts of gold that Knightfall would’ve stood victorious before the end of the first trial. Your resilience is impressive.”
This backhanded compliment somehow makes my insides warm. “And you, my lord?” I sit up a little straighter. “Would you still bet on Haven winning?”
Hades’s dark gaze considers me. The way he frowns at me, it feels like I’m a puzzle he can’t quite figure out.
“I’m not in the business of making bets,” he says finally. “Nor can I reveal anything that would give you an unfair advantage in the final trial.”<
br />
“I think everyone would agree that there isn’t much that could give me an advantage over a Knightfall,” I say bitterly before I can stop the words from pouring out. I know I’m baiting him but I want him to finally tell me something that helps me understand. Or that makes me feel as though there’s a reason he wants me in his elite inner circle instead of Haven Knightfall.
Like maybe that I’m his daughter, and that he’s sorry my mortal mother threw me into the garden like two-day-old trash.
I want something. Anything.
I want there to be meaning to this whole stupid affair.
“The very fact that you are still with us,” Hades says, “demonstrates that destiny pays no mind to the plans or expectations of its players.” He levels his gaze at me. “I would very much like to know what the Fates told you about the path ahead.”
I stare at him for a moment, shocked at how poliety he asked, the timeless features of his face arranging themselves into something almost...kind. Depending on where you’re standing, Hades can look ancient or very, very young. Right now he looks caught between, like he knows too much and not enough.
His magic presses against me, as if it’s trying to coax the answers from my mouth. When a god wants something from you, it’s almost impossible to resist. Their power is too great, their will too strong.
But I really, really don’t want to tell Hades what the Fates told me. I worry it reveals too much. I worry it doesn’t reveal enough. The greedy need to keep that secret to myself throws up a wall between us and I can almost see the moment Hades hits the shield.
He pulls back and blinks. An almost imperceptible frown wrinkles between his brows before it’s quickly wiped away again.
“I’m not sure that anything the Fates told me even matters,” I hedge instead. “From the moment I was chosen for your House it’s seemed as though my choosing was a mistake or a joke. Everyone I’ve encountered seems sure of it.”
“It is not for the likes of men or gods to question what the Fates have decided.”
“But it wasn’t just the Fates, was it?” I push. “You put my name in that box for a reason.” I bite my tongue, not wanting to continue rambling. This is the closest I’ve ever come to flat out asking Hades why he chose me. I think my heart is about to pound right out of my chest. Can he hear it, this thundering beneath my ribs?
“Is that what you asked the Fates?” Hades eyes narrow as though I’ve disappointed him. “Did you waste your chance to learn about your future by focusing on a past that does not matter?” The mist rolling off him builds. Sparks ignite in his gaze. “Did I not make it eminently clear that you were to seek their guidance on what is to come?”
The floor rumbles as Hades’s temper flares.
“I did exactly as you asked,” I snap, my own temper rising to meet his, ignoring every alarm bell in my head that’s telling me this is a very bad idea. “I asked the Fates to tell me something meaningful and they told me nothing that will help me. I’m no better off than I was when I started this journey. The Fates gave me more questions than answers. No one, not the Fates, not you, not Hestia, seems willing or capable of telling me what in the hell I’m doing here!”
I lurch upright and turn for the door.
I am over this. Over the games and the lies and the coded messages.
I don’t want any of this and yet I can’t seem to escape it.
“Sit down!” Hades commands. “We’re not done here!”
I yank the door open, ignoring his command and then slam it shut behind me. I race down the corridor and hear Hades’s voice bellowing behind me.
I have no plan other than to get as far away from here as possible.
I turn the next corner just as Hades appears in front of me in a cloud of dark mist. His hand reaches out as though he’s going to grab for me when Tarter and Russ appear out of nowhere, both made of inky, swirling shadow. They stand between me and the God of the Underworld, a low growl rumbling in their throats.
Hades takes a step back.
A wisp of smoke rises from Tarter’s back. Russ’s eyes glow red.
I’m suddenly flush with pride.
I reach out for my dogs to remind Hades that they’re mine, that they obey me, not him. Their bodies turn solid, but smoke still rises around them.
The anger in Hades’s eyes cools and the dark swirls of smoke caught around his shoulders dissipate as he straightens his shirt sleeves and then clasps his hands behind his back. “If you have nothing else to report,” he says, his voice dangerously calm, “then I suggest you use the rest of today to say your final goodbyes to your family.”
His use of the word final feels like a slap.
“Your last trial begins tomorrow,” he says and before I can blink, he’s gone.
Chapter 18
The walk to Hestia’s House feels like traveling through a deep fog of molasses. Every step is slow and heavy. The way Hades said the word final keeps replaying over and over in my mind. I can’t help but wonder if my outburst just cost me any chance I might’ve had to find a solution to this impossible situation.
Not that Hades has ever seemed like the type of person, or god, I could go to for help.
But as I replay our encounter over in my head I keep coming back to the thought that while he never admitted he was my father, he never denied it either.
So what does that mean? Why won’t he just say it? Why won’t he just admit it and tell me why he put my name in the box for the Choosing Ceremony?
Hestia’s House comes into view once I come out of the path that winds around Lake Nisa. I stop and stare at the large house that was my only safe place until recently. I drink in the sights and sounds of the place in case this is my last day in Olympus City.
I walk up to the large front door and reach out to knock and then stop myself. I’ve wandered in and out of these doors my entire life, but the short time I’ve spent at Hades’s House makes me feel different. Now on Hestia’s doorstep, I feel less like a daughter returned and more like an outsider who no longer belongs. Not that I truly belong at Hades’s House either.
And if this is to be my final goodbye, do I really want to go through the pain of making it?
I’m saved from having to decide when the door swings open and Sura’s loving face beams out at me. “My child!” she shouts. The love and happiness radiating out from her smile makes me want to cry. “What a lovely surprise. It’s so good to see you!”
“It’s good to see you too.” I bow my head in respect, but Sura doesn’t let me follow through. She pulls me into a fierce hug and my body sags against her in relief. “I’ve missed you,” I say.
“And we have missed you.” She puts her hands out as I pull away from the embrace and holds my shoulders so she can look at me. “You look well. Very strong.”
“That’s because they feed us only meat at Hades’s House. I feel like a prized cow.”
Sura laughs. “Well, I have some sweet cakes cooling in the kitchen if you want a treat.”
“I very much do. But…is Clea about? I’d like to see her first.” I glance over Sura’s shoulder, hoping to see my friend and start my farewells, but Sura shakes her head.
“She’s off making deliveries with Marigold.”
“Oh.” I can’t hide the disappointment in my voice.
“Come. We’ll start with the cakes.” She shoos me toward the kitchen. “I’m making a large batch for the Fertility Festival tomorrow, but I always make extra, as you know.”
Oh, I know that very well.
The moment I step into the kitchen the sweet smell of baked berries and perfectly caramelized sugar envelops me. I’m taken back to all the many days and nights Clea and I spent sneaking in and out of the kitchen, taking treats that I later realized Sura had been leaving for us.
“Sit, sit.” Sura gestures to the seats around the big table in the center of the kitchen. The surface is covered in sweet cakes at various stages of completion for the festival.
I sit
and grab a cake with bursting blueberries on the top. I take a bite and one of the berries explodes in my mouth. “Mmmm, Sura, you’ve outdone yourself this time.”
She clasps her hands in front of her. “I’m happy you like them.”
I finish off the cake in record time and then pluck another from the table. I think it’s apple cinnamon but it’s actually caramel apple. There’re swirls of caramel inside and glazed apple shreds.
When that one is gone, I sit back and let the sugary goods settle in my belly. I want more, but I don’t want to overdo it. “Is Hestia at home?” I ask. “I need to speak with her.”
Sura turns away from me and busies herself taking the next round of cakes out of the oven. “Hestia was called away to a meeting with her brothers and sisters for urgent business.”
“Will she return soon?”
“Of that I’m not sure. It may…well…the business that needs tending to…it may take some time to come to a resolution.” Sura’s hesitations are so unlike her that I feel a pang in my chest. It seems even here at Hestia House I am destined to be kept in the dark.
“Are they meeting to discuss what to do about Cronus’s escape?” I ask pointedly, trying to keep more confidence in my voice than I feel.
Sura whirls around. “You should not speak of such things!” As she sets the tray on the table, I notice her hands are shaking. “It’s not for us to involve ourselves in the goings on of the gods. Eat a cake!”
Oh, how I’ve missed Sura. I grab another cake and bite into it. This one has sugar crumble on the top and strawberries inside. The sugar reminds me of the sandy shore of the mountain alcove and then I’m thinking of Haven and then I’m thinking of the things we did.
I force the thoughts from my mind as I turn back to Sura. I am not going to spend my time thinking about Haven Knightfall when I’m supposed to be saying goodbye to my family.
“I spoke with Hades today,” I say and notice how Sura’s shoulders instantly tense. “He still refuses to tell me if he’s my father.”
Sura rolls out the dough for the next set of cakes, keeping her eyes intently on the work in front of her.
Vicious Champion (Games of the Gods Book 2) Page 10