Chapter 7
The ride is quicker than I expected. The windows on Hades’s carriage are dark and it’s almost impossible to see Olympus City disappearing in a blur outside the window so I don’t bother trying to lose myself in the passing terrain.
Hades is silent the entire ride and since I’m not sure how to make small talk with the God of the Underworld, I sit back and keep my mouth shut.
When the carriage finally lurches to a halt and the coachman pulls the door back, I step out after Hades and blink up at a stately house made of dark stone. I’m only given a moment to gape up at it—it’s easily twice the size of Hestia’s House and from what I know of Hades, this is just his house, not his palace. Which means he has a much grander house somewhere else.
A footman whisks me inside large, arched double doors. The front foyer is grand in scope. A huge staircase is directly across from the front doors. At a central landing, it splits off to the left and right.
A wrought iron chandelier hangs from the ceiling and three dozen candles fill the cavernous space with flickering light. There’s a soaring, hushed quiet to the place that’s eerie and unsettling.
“Stunning, right?” a voice says behind me that echoes through the place.
I startle and whirl around.
It’s a young man—mid-twenties maybe. He’s tall and dark-haired with a lopsided grin on his face. “Didn’t mean to scare you.” His hands are raised in front of him as though he’s trying not to scare off a frightened animal.
“It’s okay,” I say. “I’m just...trying to take it all in. It is stunning. And...different from what I’m used to.”
The boy laughs. “When I heard a girl from Hestia’s House no less was going to attend this year’s trial, I was shocked. We’ve never had a girl here. For as long as I’ve been assigned to Hades’s House.”
“You’ve been here a while?”
He nods. “My entire life. I’m Max by the way. Descendant of Hades. House Page.”
We don’t have one of those at Hestia’s House, but I know what a page does. He’s the house’s main servant. Likely he didn’t get chosen for his own Descendant Trial—just as Clea and I assumed we never would. A House Page isn’t exactly a revered position or a person destined for greatness.
We shake hands.
“Ana,” I say.
“It’s nice to meet you, Ana.”
“Likewise.”
“Come,” he says. “Let me show you to your rooms.”
We turn so many corners, I’m not exactly sure how we reach my room. I’ll definitely get lost in the future.
We finally come to a narrow hallway with three closed doors.
“This is a supply closet,” Max says and nods at a door on my right. “These two rooms are usually used for auxiliary staff, but for now, one will be yours.” He makes an apologetic face at me. “Usually all descendants are in the same wing, but because you’re a girl...Hades thought...”
“That it would be better to segregate me.”
Max doesn’t confirm nor deny.
“It’s okay. I’m happy to take whatever.”
He pushes the door in.
The room is furnished with a large bed and a massive wardrobe. The bed is ornately carved with leaves and vines in a wood so black it must be straight from the underworld. The blankets on the bed and the curtains hanging around it seem to ripple like swathes of darkness. The only light comes from two small lanterns on the walls that cast a golden hue around the room.
There’s one narrow window, but since it’s perpetually dark out, I doubt it does much.
“If you’d like to change,” Max says, “there’s gear in here that will fit you.” He opens one door of the huge wardrobe and sure enough there is a row of pants and what looks like a variety of shirts and jackets. “Sorry it’s all black.” He glances at my ceremony dress. “They stay very on brand down here when it comes to the whole darkness thing.”
I sit down on the bed, surprised at how plush it is. I’m not sure what I thought the minions of the underworld slept on but I’d not have guessed a mattress so thick you could sink back into it like a cloud.
“So,” I say, “is it your duty to welcome all of the descendants to the house?”
“Ah, no.” Max scratches the back of his neck. “It’s really just you. I mean, obviously if someone else needs my help, I'd be happy to jump in, but everyone else is a descendant of Hades and has always lived within Hades’s domain so they’re less likely to need my excellent tour guide skills.”
I can’t help the shudder that passes through me at the reminder that I’m so very, very out of my depth here. What are the Fates thinking placing me in a competition I’ve practically lost before I’ve begun?
Am I destined for the mortal realm?
The thought makes me shudder.
“Anastasha?” Max says and gives me a look like he’s worried I might be about to jump out the window.
“Ana,” I correct him.
“Right, sorry. Ana. If you want to change your clothes, I’ll give you the rest of the tour. How does that sound?” Max smiles at me and for a moment, it’s a spark of sunshine that I absolutely need in this dark place.
I nod. “That sounds great, Max.” But before he leaves me to change, I say, “Max, do you think we’ll run into Haven Knightfall?”
Please say no.
Please say no.
“Oh. Well. Maybe? If I say yes, will it take you longer to get ready?” He laughs, playing it off as a joke. He’s misread my question. I’m not hoping to run into Haven. I’m hoping to avoid him at any cost.
What are the chances that I’ll get through this trial without seeing Haven at all?
Slim to none, I suspect, but a girl can hope.
I squeeze Max’s arm when I see the look on his face. He, like me, has never belonged where he was planted and I want to comfort him. I want him to know I’m firmly on his side and definitely not on Haven’s.
“Give me just a few minutes and I’ll be ready,” I say.
He smiles. “There’s much to see and I am an excellent tour guide.”
“Of that I have no doubt.”
Chapter 8
When I meet Max again in the hallway I’m clothed entirely in black.
I picked out a black tunic that was perfectly sized to my body. I don’t know how anyone could have managed to make me clothes so quickly, but I’m not about to question the fashion magic of the God of the Underworld.
With the tunic, I added black leggings and black leather boots that reach to mid-calf.
I’m surprised at how comfortable the structured gear is and how much easier it is to move in compared to a dress.
Max leads me out of the dark hallway connected to my room and then down another hallway before we emerge onto a main thoroughfare. Two servants scuttle past and nod at Max as they do.
Here the hallway is better lit than my hallway with glass orbs installed in the walls every six feet or so. Inside the orbs, fiery light sparks and snaps. The walls, a rich dark wood, feel warm and comforting. There are wood carvings in the trim along the bottom of each hallway that depict souls traveling down the River Styx, but it feels peaceful instead of terrifying.
“It seems a lot less...dead...than I was anticipating.”
Max laughs. “I mean since you aren’t yet part of Hades circle, he isn’t exactly going to thrust you into the underworld itself with no preparation.”
I appreciate that he said yet and not since there is no way you’ll ever be part of Hades circle the way I, and I’m pretty sure everyone else around here, saw it. But I also take note of the fact that he said Hades wouldn’t send me there with no preparation. So he might at some point? I don’t even want to think about that.
Max pauses and bows his head slightly as a group of boys come down the hall.
My heart goes cold.
Haven is one of them.
I stand aside with Max and bow my head hoping none of them will notice me. But h
ow long can I hide? Hopefully long enough to survive this stupid debacle.
A few of the boys laugh at something one of them said.
Keep going. Pay us no mind.
Max tenses beside me and a moment later, someone shoves him and he goes sprawling on the floor. I barely have time to realize what’s happened before I’m standing there alone staring at Haven.
“My apologies, Maximillian,” Haven says coolly. “I didn’t see you there.”
The two boys behind him laugh.
Max gets up. Hands clasped behind his back, he simply nods. “I’m sorry to have been in your way. Pardon me.”
I’m about to tell Haven exactly what I think of his bullshit apologies when Max puts a hand lightly on my arm.
“See that you stay out of our way,” Haven says, but he’s staring right at me. I try to match his glare and fail. His mismatched eyes are unsettling and I think he knows it. I look away, clearly the weaker opponent.
Son of a nymph.
When the boys are gone, I turn on Max.
“He’s such an asshole! Is he always that way toward you? I’m so sorry Max. He just shoved you for no reason and you’re apologizing to him?” I acknowledge that I might be slightly angrier on his behalf than the situation warrants, but every interaction I’ve had with Haven Knightfall is more annoying than the last. “It’s like that guy thinks he’s the God of the Dead.”
“He’s pretty close,” Max replies and I realize I said that last part aloud. “The Knightfall family is the closest thing that Hades House has to royalty. Haven’s father is the current Lord Commander of Hades’s army. His brother is Head of Hades House—you’ll meet him soon, I’ll warn you it won’t be fun—and it’s been expected that Haven will win his trial since the moment of his birth. The Knightfalls have been favored by Hades for generations...it is said that one of the ancestors of their line was a descendant of Persephone, someone that Hades truly cared for and made promises to.”
“Those are some pretty long-term promises,” I muse and follow Max as we continue to the other side of the house.
“Time doesn’t work the same for the gods,” Max reminds me. “A promise of a few generations is like a blink to them.”
“Hades must have loved that person very much.”
He nods as we turn a corner. “They don’t give such promises easily.”
I wonder who that person was. I wonder what she or he was like to have had the power to win over the God of the Underworld. “That person,” I say, “Haven’s ancestor—what do you think they’d make of the current state of things? Do you think they’d be proud of the Knightfalls’ power and might, or disgusted by their nepotism?”
Max snorts. “The former, definitely. Hades’s descendants are known to prefer marital matches within Hades House in order to keep the bloodline pure and the power flowing.”
I wrinkle my nose. “So they have no issue with all being descended from the same god? Like…they’re literally marrying their family.”
“Well from what I understand,” Max says with a laugh, “the mortals believe they’re all descended from the original mortals, a couple named Adam and Eve. It doesn’t seem to bother them much. It’s all many centuries and millennia removed.”
I burst out laughing. My voice echoes through the long hallway. I clamp my hand over my mouth and make wide-eyes at Max.
“It’s okay.” He smiles at me. “This isn’t the Great Olympian Library. No one will shush you.”
Still, I lower my voice. “We were always encouraged to play and be merry at Hestia’s House, but Hades House feels…” I look up at the soaring hallway, “…more somber.”
“Just fewer people and merriment, I suspect. I promise you, there are no rules against being happy.”
“Good to know.”
And could I be happy here? I had everything I could ever want at Hestia’s House and for some reason, that was never enough.
Max continues the tour and shows me the kitchen and the library, several sparring rooms, and the banquet hall. I’m actually starting to enjoy my time in Hades House when he delivers me to a hallway and nods to the one door at the end. “That’s the office of Head of House. He’s expecting you.”
My stomach swims. Max said it was Haven’s brother who was Head of House. Now my joy is smoldering at my feet.
Max gives my shoulder a squeeze. “Good luck, Ana,” he says and then bolts in the opposite direction.
I turn to the arched door. It’s easily twice my size in height and width. There are bronzed rivets hammered into a grid pattern on the bottom and an iron flower embedded in the top.
Above the door hangs a gold placard that reads NEREUS KNIGHTFALL: HEAD OF HADES HOUSE.
I reach out with a fist and knock on the door.
Chapter 9
I know virtually nothing about Haven’s older brother. But if he’s anything like Haven, this meeting will go over about as well as a lead chariot in the sky.
When the door pulls open, there’s a man standing on the other side in black tactical gear, similar to what I wear, but much more lux. He looks like he could walk out the door and straight into a battle, but something about his long lashes, unmarred face, and perfectly manicured fingernails tells me he’s seen very little war.
He’s got Haven’s high cheekbones and sharp-as-an-arrowhead nose, but Nereus’s eyes aren’t nearly the same shade of hellfire amber as Haven’s good eye is. His are darker brown like...well, like river mud.
“Hello, Mr. Knightfall,” I say and fall into a deep curtsy like I’m some kind of milk maiden and not a chosen one.
Also I’m no longer wearing a dress, so my hands hover awkwardly at my knees with no skirt to grasp.
Nereus clears his throat. “Anastasha, I presume?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Come in.”
I step into the softer hush of the office. Though I know even less about underworld magic than I do about Nereus, I immediately sense something stirring in the air. I wonder if there’s something shielding the office from eavesdropping and prying eyes. All ambient noise has vanished the moment I’m over the threshold.
Black shutters are closed on the windows and a fire burns in the brick fireplace, filling the air with heat and crackling embers.
Nereus gestures for me to sit in one of the wingback chairs across from a matching black velvet sofa.
I do and fold my hands into my lap.
There are about a hundred things I want to say to him, but now that I’m here, the words have escaped me. Haven might be about 37% hotter than Nereus, but I can sense that Nereus is like 62% more powerful.
I don’t want to anger him. I don’t want to challenge him. But I also don’t want to be here and I think he might be the only person who’ll actually listen to me.
“This is the first time I’ve ever had a female chosen one sitting in my office,” he says and laughs like this is all a big funny joke.
“Oh ha ha ha,” I say nervously.
Stop being an idiot!
Appeal to his senses!
“This seems like a huge mistake,” I say.
He nods. “It’s certainly unprecedented.”
“I know the Fates rarely make errors, but there’s a first time for everything.”
He keeps nodding. “Or it could be you’re needed in the mortal realm for some profound future.” He smiles, but it’s not charitable.
Now his gaze is firmly on me and there’s a disdainful glitter to his eyes.
He already thinks I’ll lose.
Well, obviously I’ll lose.
How can I stand against an entire trial panel of Hades’s descendants? Let alone a Knightfall?
I’d never make it out in the mortal realm. What do I know about pop culture and fried food and public transportation?
The mortal realm would devour me sooner than the Olympian one.
But the only way I’ll get to stay in Olympus is if I get out of this damn house.
“I wonder if perhaps
I could ask to see the Fates?” I say. “Surely they’d want—”
Behind Nereus, a swath of black mist appears and then quickly solidifies into the towering figure of Hades.
I swear he sucks all of the oxygen out of the room because I’m finding it hard to take a deep breath.
Nereus stands up and bows. “My lord.”
I stand and follow into a deep bow and mutter, “My lord,” though it sounds hollow even to my ears.
“The Fates don’t make mistakes,” Hades says, jumping right to the point.
I sink back to the chair, defeated.
“You’ll fare much better if you accept that fact and move on.” Hades comes around the sofa and sits on the other end opposite Nereus. He spreads his long arm over the sofa’s back. His dark, wavy hair is tied back with a black leather strip. There’s scruff on his face that’s nearly cut in half along the left side where a scar has made the skin puckered and white. Gods rarely bear scars, but I heard Hades got his from his father, the titan Cronus.
The war between the titans and the gods was long before I was born, but yet the stories still prevail.
Hades goes on. “You’ll do well to remember your place here.”
I inhale through my nose trying to quell the conflicting emotions rolling in my gut. Fear from being before the dark god. Worry over insulting him. Anger that I might be sitting across from my father and yet still remain unclaimed.
What I want to ask is, What is my place here?
Instead, what comes out of my mouth is, “Of course, my lord, I’m sorry to—”
“I don’t want your apologies, Hearthtender.”
His voice makes my skin pop with goosebumps. “Of course,” I say again, because apparently I know no other words at the moment.
I avert my gaze, afraid to look the God of the Underworld directly in the eyes now that I know I’ve disrespected him. I can feel the power coming off of him in waves hotter than the fire.
What in the hell have I gotten myself into?
Don’t say more words. Keep your mouth shut.
“To be chosen is an honor,” Hades says. “Don’t forget that.”
Hades Descendants (The Games of the Gods Book 1) Page 4