“Ana,” Max says. “It’s really not so farfetched, is it?”
“It’s the farthest fetch in all—” I round the next corner and slam right into a tall, rock-solid figure. I bounce back and Max catches me.
“Hearthtender,” Hades says.
Max and I come to attention like the dutiful followers we are.
“Good evening, my lord,” Max says and bows.
I give a half-hearted bow and say, “My lord.”
There’s an irritated rumble in the back of Hades’s throat. “Hearthtender, you should be in bed at this late hour.”
I give him a demure smile, though I think he can probably read the great effort it takes me to fake it. “Of course,” I say. “I’m headed there now. Max was just walking me.”
“Where were you coming from?” he asks next.
“The library, my lord,” Max answers.
Hades looks past us to the direction of the library. There’s a new flare of suspicion in his eyes. “Whatever for?”
Max starts rambling and dodges the truth because he’s the absolute best friend a girl could ask for. And as Max rambles, I watch Hades’s face for clues.
Why does he care where I was or where I’m going? I wish he would just speak plainly. I wish he would tell me whether or not he’s my father. The truth is, he’s always held me at arm’s length. There’s always been a wall between us like he’s unsure of who I am and what I’m capable of. But there’s been a greedy curiosity too, as if he’s waiting to see how he might use me to his advantage.
Even though he put my name in the box and the box chose me and even though I’m here in his house and even though I have this unique power, Hades has yet to admit, or even hint at, him being my father.
I’ve given him no reason to be embarrassed to call me his daughter, so why hasn’t he?
Because maybe he isn’t my father.
Oh Gaia.
If it’s true, if Hades really isn’t my father, then who—
No. No no. I’m not going down that road. I’m so tired of speculating. I just want answers!
Hades finally shows mercy on us and says, “That’s enough, Maxwell. I think I get the point. Hearthtender”—he turns his fiery gaze on me—“get some rest. Tomorrow, your last trial awaits.”
Max and I make hasty bows and hurry away. And the entire time, I can feel Hades’s eyes on me.
Chapter 21
The next afternoon, after a long hot shower, I dress in my trial outfit. It’s the same black tactical gear I’ve worn since arriving at Hades’s House, but somehow it feels more official this time like I’m actually preparing to go to war.
Maybe I should just quit now. What’s the point in risking my life again if Haven is already destined to win? Both of us nearly died in the Maze. If I’m destined to lose, I could save myself some trouble.
But what if Cronus returns and Haven—
Gods be damned.
A shiver rolls up my spine at the thought of the Titan’s name.
I don’t want to go down that path. I don’t need the distraction today.
I never should have played the safe game with the Fates. I should have asked them a specific question in the hopes of getting a specific answer.
Who is my father?
And now it’s too late.
Once I’m ready, I appraise myself in the full-length mirror in my room.
I’m not ashamed to admit, I look awesome.
I feel awesome.
Tears burn in my eyes. Not for my potential loss and my eventual banning from Olympus, but because I realize as I stare at my reflection just how far I’ve come.
I never felt like I had a destiny. I felt like a forgotten child, an abandoned daughter. I felt insignificant and worthless.
How wrong I was.
I might not understand all of the threads in play and I might not know what my future has in store, but with everything I’ve gone through in the last few weeks, I know I’m more than just an orphan who picks flowers.
I’m a goddess.
A powerful goddess.
In fact, the God of the Underworld himself seems a little wary around me.
If that doesn’t score me some cool points…
A knock on my door pulls me from my thoughts. Tarter and Russ leap off my bed, tails wagging.
That’s usually a good sign. They usually know who’s around before I do.
I find Max on the other side of the door, hands wringing in front of him. Tarter and Russ slobber all over him and he scratches both behind the ears.
“Hey,” I say. “I was just finishing up.”
“They’re waiting for you out front.”
I sigh. “Late as usual.”
“Which is ironic considering you can manipulate ti—”
“Don’t,” I say and cut him off. “Don’t say it. That’s not what it is.”
Max scratches at his head and gives me a dubious look. “If it’s not ti—ahem, whatever it is, then what is it?”
“IT doesn’t need a name, does it?”
Max frowns. “Are we still talking about the same thing?”
“Exactly.”
Max rolls his eyes.
I shove a dagger into the sheath hidden beneath my sleeve and another into the sheath in my boot. Better to be prepared. “How does Haven look?” I ask distantly, like the answer doesn’t actually matter.
“Prepared,” Max says. He pats Russ on the head and she pants appreciatively at his feet. “Determined,” he adds.
My heart kicks up just imagining Haven in his battle gear with a warrior’s scowl on his face.
I’m going to lose it the second I see him. I just know it.
I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to have to say goodbye to him even though he’s driven me crazy from the very beginning.
I step into the hallway and tell Tarter and Russ to stay put. I swear they roll their eyes at me, but climb back up on the bed and curl into one another.
Max walks with me to the front door. Before we go outside, he pulls me to a stop and wraps his arms around me. “Whatever happens,” he says at my ear, “I’m grateful to have had you in my life, Ana. You deserve to win. Hades House needs more like you.”
I tighten the hug around him. “Thanks Max. I wouldn’t have survived this place without you.”
When we pull away, both of us have glassy eyes.
“Do you know where the last trial will be?” I ask. “Have you heard anything? Can you give me any hints?”
Max frowns. “I don’t know what it will be, but I think you’re headed to Hades’s Palace.”
I’ve never been there and the thought of seeing it both excites me and frightens me. Because the place will be full of Hades’s descendants. Just another place for me to not belong.
“Orphan!” Nereus shouts from the open front doors.
I roll my eyes. Max snorts.
“That’s my cue to go, I guess.” I give Max one last squeeze on the arm. “Bye, Max.”
“Bye, Ana.”
As I walk away from him with Nereus scowling at me from the doors, I clench my teeth trying to push away any emotion. I don’t want Nereus to see the tears that are threatening to spill over my eyes.
Thankfully the foyer is practically the size of a stadium, so by the time I come up alongside him, the tears are gone and I’ve schooled my expression to one of indifference.
I barely acknowledge Nereus as I breeze past and hurry down the marble stairs and climb into the waiting carriage.
I think I’ve got my shit together when I slide onto the bench seat beside Haven, but when the smell of him hits me—spicy and sweet—I’m nearly undone.
How the hell am I going to do this? Did the Fates really tell him he’d win the last trial?
I don’t want to fight him. But I don’t want to just give up either. Of course, if I do manage to win, the mortal world will kill him.
And if I lose…he’ll be gone from me forever.
There’s no g
ood outcome to this. I either lose everything or gain nothing.
Nereus shuts the carriage’s door sealing Haven and me inside. Nereus must be traveling some other way. That leaves me alone with Haven.
The horses lurch forward and the carriage clatters along.
Haven and I are silent the whole way.
Chapter 22
Haven and I don’t speak on the journey to Hades’s palace and when we arrive, I’m speechless anyway.
While I had a vague understanding of where Hades’s palace was located, I had no idea it was built right into the side of Mount Olympus. The monstrous structure hugs the land where the green hillside meets the rocky mountain. It’s more in the shadows than Hades’s House so almost every window glows with golden light even in this early evening hour.
Tall iron torches line the winding drive up to the palace. When our carriage pulls through the stone archway and then clatters across the courtyard, I’m flustered to see there’s a crowd waiting. People are lined up on the steps that lead up to the giant double doors. More stand on balconies and more still hover in doorways dotted around the courtyard, most of which appear to be servants pausing their duties to see the two revered descendants arrive.
It doesn’t escape me that women comprise most of the crowd. They stand, hands wringing, dressed in their finest.
When the carriage pulls to a stop, a hush goes through the crowd. For the briefest of moments, its quiet and dark and isolated in the carriage. Haven’s shoulder bumps against mine and a thrill runs through me. I immediately try to suppress the emotions that threaten to come with it.
I’m no better than the gathered women outside the four carriage walls. Gaia knows, I’ve probably had more of Haven in the last week than any of them could ever hope to have. And yet I pushed him away, again and again.
You had to. It’s the only way to survive this.
So why does it make me feel so shitty?
Through the dark carriage window, I see a footman hustle toward us. Haven moves to ready himself, since the palace entrance is on his side.
I put a hand on his bicep to stop him and feel the rock-solidness of his muscle tense.
He looks over at me, a frown pinching between his brows. The darkened glass of the carriage window allows only a dim light to penetrate the interior, but it’s enough to highlight the wetness of Haven’s lips and the sharp slant of his nose.
Every time I’m with him, I’m undone by some new small detail about him. It’s not just his eyes or his mouth or his face or his sinewy body.
It’s every small detail that makes up the totality of him.
Each part cannot exist without the other.
I wouldn’t feel the way I feel about him if it wasn’t for the whole of him.
Even the frustrating parts.
“What is it, Hearthtender?” he says.
There are so many things I want to say. A thousand apologies and pleas poised on the tip of my tongue.
I open my mouth to say something, anything, when the footman yanks the carriage door open and the crowd buzzes with anticipation.
Haven lingers a beat, waiting. His expression softens. He angles his body toward me and my heart leaps to my throat.
“Good luck,” I say.
A scowl sharpens his face again. “I don’t need it, orphan.” He steps out of the carriage and the crowd roars.
I immediately feel the loss of him and my chest tightens. He’s no longer mine. He’s the favored prince arriving home.
I’m a nobody orphan, a potential usurper.
When I follow him and step out of the carriage, I feel naked and conflicting standing here in the torchlight. Like a pigeon in a murder of crows.
It’s Monstrat who comes to my rescue. His and Nereus’s carriage has arrived just behind ours. “Come,” he says, his arm draped casually over my shoulders. “I’ll take you to safety.” He winks at me and I’m overcome with gratitude.
The crowd has followed Haven inside the palace. They are the tide and he is the moon. Monstrat guides me up the steps and into the main hallway. I’m surprised to find the scope of Hades’s palace is larger than Zeus’s. Does the King of the Gods know?
Golden beams curve up the rounded ceiling. In the recessed panels between beams, someone has painted dark and moody scenes of Hades and the Underworld. It strikes me again how timeless Hades is, just how long he’s existed is beyond comprehension.
Iron chandeliers hang from thick chains and shed pools of golden light around the hall. Up ahead, large double doors that echo the entrance are thrown open to reveal a ballroom. Haven is there at the center of the storm with Lyantha and two other gorgeous girls at his side.
I bristle at the way Lyantha clings to his side. I cringe at the way the shorter girl touches his hair as he’s congratulated by another boy twice his size. I scowl at the way a red-headed girl rakes her teeth over her bottom lip like she’s preparing to feast on him.
The air crackles around me.
Monstrat curses and lunges away from me. A faint black shadow covers his hand. He holds it close to his chest like he’s trying to quell the pain. The blackness recedes.
“I’m so sorry!” I say and reach out to him.
He holds up his free hand to stop me. “It’s okay. Please don’t apologize, Ana.”
“I hurt you. I didn’t mean—”
“It’s all right.” Monstrat smiles at me and nods at the door behind him. “Let’s get out of this frenzy, huh?”
I follow him through a smaller, but no less decorative arched door that deposits us to another hallway lit by glowing orbs attached to the stone wall. Servants hustle past. They bow as they do, though I can’t tell if it’s for Monstrat or me. He must be revered here too.
We turn several corners. Each hallway is longer and wider and darker as if we’re headed to the heart of the Underworld itself. When I say as much to Monstrat he says, “Oh no, it’s not that easy to get to the gate. You have to go down several floors, through several stationed guards and then get past Cerberus, of course.”
“Wait.” I pull to a stop. “You can get to the Underworld in Hades’s Palace?”
“Of course.” Monstrat frowns like I’m being daft. “He is the God of the Underworld.”
“Yeah, but…I didn’t know the gateway was literally in his house.”
“Where else would it be?”
“I don’t know. In some mystical land?”
He laughs and starts off again. “It’s safer for everyone if the gateway is close to Hades. The further he gets away from it and the longer he’s gone, the more vulnerable it is. So living overtop of it is best.”
“I didn’t know that.”
Monstrat stops at a nondescript door painted the color of blood. “I admire Hestia for the work she does, but she’s clearly been lacking in your education of our history.”
I shrug. “We had a giant library at our disposal and were encouraged to pursue knowledge, but I probably spent too much time devouring mortal books when I should have been reading up on Olympus.”
Monstrat opens the door and reveals a sitting room with a bedroom just beyond it. “There’s plenty of time to learn,” he tells me and holds the door as I enter.
“Is there?”
Now that I’m safely confined to a room, I drop onto a red velvet slipper chair and let the tension ease out of my body.
“I don’t know why you doubt yourself so much,” he says and sits in the chair across from me. “I have faith that you can best Haven Knightfall.”
I snort. “Everyone keeps telling me that except—”
“Except what?”
With my head resting dramatically on the back of the chair, I sigh to the ceiling and say, “Haven is supposed to win. That’s what the Fates told him.”
Monstrat is silent for a long time. He finally gets up and starts pacing the room, a deeper frown on his face like he’s trying to put together a puzzle where all the pieces have suddenly changed.
I have to
admit, that’s not exactly the reaction I’d expected. Monstrat’s been at Hades’s House for a long time. Surely, he’s always suspected this would be the outcome?
I think back to Ely and wonder if Monstrat knew all along he’d lose his nephew to this trial. Maybe he had delusional hopes for Ely as much as he did for me.
But really, he must have known, right?
When he comes to a stop, he runs his hand over his hair and says, “That’s okay. That must be part of the plan. Except most of us will forget about you, I assume, so how do we…” He shakes his head and starts pacing again.
“What are you talking about?” I ask. “What do you mean ‘part of the plan’?”
He stops and scratches at the back of his head.
“Professor?” I say when a dark mist appears in the center of the room. It solidifies into Hades in the span of a breath. The room seems to shrink in size as he dominates the space. Power and heat crackles around him. He’s wearing his molded leather breast plate, the one that shows Cerberus at the gate. A red cape is fastened to the shoulders and trails behind him on the stone floor.
There’s a determined set to his sharp jaw and fire in his eyes.
I rise and bow.
“Hearthtender,” Hades says.
“My lord,” I say.
“The trial will begin in one hour. You’re to report to the amphitheater. Monstrat can help you locate it. The trial will be hand-to-hand combat.”
Dread washes through me. Hand to hand. Yippee. My chances of winning are dwindling by the second. Maybe Haven was telling the truth after all.
“Your objective,” Hades goes on, “is to incapacitate your opponent. You won’t win until you do.”
This just keeps getting better.
“Do you understand?”
“Yes, my lord.”
“Good.” He turns and looks at Monstrat. “Make sure she’s ready.”
“Of course, my lord.”
“And Hearthtender?”
“Yes?”
He pauses and looks like he’s about to say something and thinks better of it. “I brought you a present,” he says instead and then pulls open the door.
Clea stands on the other side.
Vicious Champion (Games of the Gods Book 2) Page 13