by Wagner, Raye
Thanatos went to the water’s edge and scooped up a handful of the crystal liquid. “I hate to see you mourn. Here.” He thrust his hand toward her. “Three drops will make you forget what you saw. Three drops and your pain will evaporate.”
She shook her head. It would be nice to forget about Athan kissing his previous girlfriend. It would be nice to forget about Priska’s death. And Leto’s. There were so many memories that hurt, but those were the same memories that had given her purpose. Those were the memories that drove her to break the curse, to defeat Apollo, to seize her own destiny. “No.”
He turned his hand upside down, and the water dropped back into the river. “You are stronger than that, yes.”
She drew herself up. “Yes, I am.”
His lips curled in warm appreciation, and he stepped through the grassy bank. “Mother Gaia. You are incredible.”
He continued to draw closer, and the smile, the tenderness, the comfort he’d offered all hit Hope with sudden clarity.
Her mouth dropped open, and her eyes widened in horror.
He glanced behind him and then faced her with an intent gleam. “We are quite alone. No one will interrupt us.”
She swallowed. “It’s okay. I’m better. Will you take me back?”
Thanatos shook his head, his dark hair curling around his ears. “Not yet. There is something I want to ask you.”
Her heart fluttered in her chest like a caged bird. In fact, that was exactly what she felt like. This could not be happening. The sweet smell of peaches became cloying. The bank of the river that only moments before felt like an escape from pain became a trap.
“Do you believe in love at first sight?”
His intensity smothered her, and she shook her head. “No.”
Instead of it deterring him, he acknowledged her refusal of the idea with a nod of appreciation. “Me neither. When you came here, I had every intention of using you to blackmail Apollo.”
As if that would endear her. Her stomach turned with his admission.
“But you are wicked smart, and you pay attention. You have a hefty spark of divinity within you already. It wouldn’t take much . . .”
He advanced again, and once again Hope stepped back. What he was saying was madness. She would not become the consort to a god. It would not end well. It never did.
As if he could read her mind, he said, “The gods of the Underworld are not the same as those of Olympus.”
Then what was he saying? Her eyes narrowed, and her mind spun with the possibilities, but it continued to land on only one, and the supposition was ridiculous.
“Will you be my wife, Hope?”
Her mind went blank, and her jaw dropped. Time slowed, and the sound of the river lapping at the banks teased her. Nothing in her life was simple. Nothing. And Thanatos . . . “I don’t know what to say.”
He laughed, a low chuckle. “Just say you will.”
Understanding struck her. He thought she was considering it, but really she was trying to think of how she could refuse without offending him. Had she ever done anything to lead him to believe she loved him? “I cannot, Lord.”
But it was clear the god did not see that as refusal. “Apollo’s curse will not hold here. He has no power in the Underworld. We can petition Hades. He will see the wisdom in our union.”
Hope shook her head. “I . . . I do not love you that way.”
The idea of having him close, of kissing him, of lying with him made her shudder. She respected him. She valued his friendship, but marriage was for love. And she didn’t know him well enough to say she loved him.
“Love grows with time and trust. I’m confident it will grow.”
But shouldn’t she be attracted to him? She wasn’t attracted to him. She could see that he would be attractive to some, but he wasn’t to her. Was that wrong? Was there something wrong with her?
“I can’t. I can’t make that kind of commitment. You’re asking for something I can’t give right now.” Not ever. Not to him. She wanted freedom from the gods, not to be tied to one. “I’m so sorry.”
His face clouded in confusion. “You . . . you are refusing me?”
“I don’t love you,” she whispered. She hated to repeat it. And she wished there was some other way of refusing him, but accepting his offer was impossible.
His jaw tightened, and his eyes narrowed. “You think your life will be better with someone else? You think anyone else will offer you what I’m offering?”
“No.” It wasn’t about what anyone could offer her. It was about what she wanted. “Your offer is very generous.” She swallowed.
“And yet,” he said, “still you refuse me?”
Why was he making her repeat herself? She wanted so much to run away from this. She even glanced at the river and wondered if she could swim across it but quickly dismissed the idea. Hope took a deep breath and told the truth. “I like you, and you’ve been very kind to me. But I don’t want to be here. Not forever. In fact, not at all. And I know, someday I will be, but at that point it won’t be a choice.”
He worried his lip in a very human gesture. “Are you refusing me or the Underworld?”
She steeled herself. “Both. I don’t like it here, but—”
“You don’t like me either,” he snapped. “You used me. You used me to get what you wanted.”
Hope opened her mouth to protest, but he cut her off with a wave of his hand.
“Oh, I know all about your meeting with your parents. Was this all a game to you? Manipulate whoever you needed to get what you want?” He clenched his fists. “You are a very selfish and manipulative girl, Hope Nicholas.”
She scrambled back, moving up the riverbank. But he was faster.
Grabbing her shirt, he pulled her close. “You have tried to make a fool of me. You used me, and then . . . you made my offer of marriage a mockery.”
His smell . . . Oh gods. It was rotting decay, and her stomach churned. Her eyes watered, and she tried to pull back.
He clenched her arms, and breathing in her face, he growled, “Do you think I don’t know what you’re thinking?”
She was going to throw up. Hope tried to suppress the bile at the back of her throat.
With both hands, Thanatos shook her. “You think I’m disgusting? You wish this had never happened? I can make that come true!”
Panic exploded in her chest, and she struggled and writhed to free herself from his grip. Her feet tangled with his as she kicked to get away. But it was not enough. She was not strong enough.
The ground disappeared from under her feet, and the world tilted as she fell. The water in the river Lethe was cool and welcomed her with an embrace of acceptance. She immediately pulled herself above the surface and looked to find the shore. Her legs pumped in circles to keep her up, treading water to prevent drinking any of the mystical river that now surrounded her.
There was a splash from behind her, and her breath escaped in a gasp of terror as someone pushed her under.
Memories flashed through her mind as Hope held her breath. Seeing Athan kissing Isabel. Hugging Xan in the orchard. Her mother and father holding hands. Thanatos saving her. Charon refusing her passage. Obelia in the Underworld. Hermes abandoning her.
Her lungs screamed for air, but she could not breathe. She struggled against the force that held her under, clawing at what felt like a solid layer of ice blocking her from the air above. She couldn’t see anything holding her down, and her hands moved over the invisible surface trying to find the edge so she could get out.
The dark rock above the water fractured in the rainbow crystals of the river. Her lungs were burning, but she refused to give up. Somehow there had to be a way out. She beat against the barrier to no avail, and she wanted to scream her frustration, but there was no air.
The gasp was involuntary, a reflex panic, and Hope choked on the water as it flooded her lungs. Her tears disappeared in the water, and her acceptance of failure came only as she faded into uncon
sciousness.
“Lord Hades?” a lady’s tentative voice called from the open doorway, followed by a knock. A young woman with long, copper curls stood in the entrance to the throne room. She was clad in a plain white dress that was clearly too large for her slight frame. As she pulled up the sleeve falling from her shoulder, she shifted her body weight, supporting something heavy just on the other side of the door.
Hades’s jaw ticked, and he sucked in a deep breath. “Yes, Imogen?”
Athan’s heart froze as the willowy girl pulled and pushed a very wobbly Hope through the door.
Hope’s hair hung in wet clumps down her back. Her gray T-shirt was torn up the seam on the side and flapped open, exposing her golden skin. Her denim shorts were frayed, and rivulets of water ran down her legs, leaving a puddle of moisture at her feet. Her fierceness was gone, and she looked like a drowned kitten, lost and afraid. Her normally vibrant gold eyes were glassy and unfocused and looked right past him.
Athan stood dumbstruck as he stared at her. What could have—?
“Hope!” Xan crossed the room with quick strides. He wrapped her in his arms and kissed her forehead. “Gods, I’ve been so worried for you.”
Athan’s heart ached, but still he couldn’t move. Perhaps he was wrong to want her so. Perhaps he’d been mistaken in coming after her. Xan’s feelings were apparent, and perhaps Hope returned them. Maybe she’d gotten over Athan, just like he’d finally let his feelings for Isabel go.
In retrospect, had Hope really had feelings for him, or had he manipulated her? The crack in his heart opened into a jagged fissure, and something deep within sunk with a sense of hopelessness.
The girl, Imogen, stood inside the doorway, hands at her sides, and her face void of emotion. The material of her dress was wet all down the right side, clinging to her slight figure.
Xan continued to whisper to Hope, words of encouragement, compassion, words of love.
Her eyes softened, and her arms moved to reciprocate the hug from the other demigod.
Athan steeled himself for what he knew was coming.
Hope froze, and Athan could see the moment she came back to herself.
She pulled back from Xan, slowly at first, her face clouded with confusion. She clenched her jaw, ripped his hands from her shoulders, and shoved him away, immediately dropping into a fighting stance.
“Who are you?” she spat, her arms coming up into guard.
Shock burst across Xan’s face, and Athan knew his face mirrored it.
When no one approached her, she relaxed her shoulders, but her hands remained outstretched, ready to push them all away.
“The Sphinx?” Hades asked with a growl punctuating the question.
“In the river, Lord,” Imogen answered neutrally.
Hades strode to Hope, his footsteps oddly silent on the stone floor. She shrunk back, but he grabbed her arm, preventing further retreat. Something about his presence must have told her the futility of fleeing from the god. He touched her hair, catching a drop of the water still dripping from the ends. He put his fingers to his tongue and shook his head. “The Lethe.”
Athan wanted to scream in frustration. He turned to Hades. “Can you burn it out of her? If we make her throw it up, can you . . . can you give her back her memories?”
The Lethe. The river of un-mindfulness, where all who drank experienced complete amnesia. What in the name of all the gods was she doing swimming in the Lethe?
Hope looked like a cornered animal, her eyes flitting over each of them as if measuring where her greatest threat would come from.
“Hope?” Xan held up his hands in surrender. “Hope, luv, it’s Xan. Do you remember me?”
Her eyes narrowed. “I don’t know you.” Her gaze dropped to his weapon, and she squinted as if trying to remember something. “You chased me and my mom . . . Don’t you hunt monsters?” she asked, and then sucked in a deep breath. “Are you going to try to kill me?”
Xan kept his hands up. “No, luv. I . . . We came to rescue you.” He indicated Athan with a nod.
Hope stared at Athan. She glanced at Xan again, but when he made no movement toward her, she let her attention come back to Athan. “Do I . . . Do I know you?”
She sounded so unsure of herself, so hesitant. And he thought his heart couldn’t hurt any more than it already had.
“I met you in Goldendale last year.” Everything in him wanted to run to her. To reassure her as Xan had tried.
She nodded. “I don’t remember, but you seem . . . familiar.”
Her gaze ping-ponged between Athan and Xan. Hope cleared her throat and wiped her palms on her wet shorts. “I don’t remember . . .”
She grimaced and closed her eyes.
Athan couldn’t even fathom what that would feel like. How much had she lost?
Her eyes opened and she searched the room, looking into the shadow as horror etched upon her features. She stared at Hades and Persephone and released a strangled cry. In a hoarse voice, she whispered, “Oh, gods.”
Persephone laughed, the twittering of a nervous giggle, but it stopped abruptly as Hope slumped to the ground.
Athan stepped forward, but Xan beat him there again, swooping Hope up into his arms.
“Where can I take her?” Xan’s voice was gruff and soaked with emotion.
Hades and Persephone shared a look, and then Persephone motioned with her hand for Xan to follow. “Imogen, you will come.”
The fair-skinned girl bobbed a curtsy. “Lady, I live to serve.”
Athan moved to follow after the group.
“Son of Hermes,” Hades intoned. “Stay if you would.”
“I’d rather not.”
The god of the Underworld raised his brows. “No?” With a flick of his wrist, the door closed behind the party. “You’ll find there is nothing for you to do, and my wife will kick your friend out as well before she assesses the monster.”
Athan ground his teeth together but stayed where he was. It would do no good to argue.
Hades swirled his hand and two leather chairs appeared, a squat stone table between them. On the table there was a crystal bar set with etched tumblers filled with amber liquid. “A drink?”
The son of Hermes snorted. “I’d rather not bind myself here, if you don’t mind.”
Hades chuckled a rich, dark sound void of mirth. “Of course.”
One of the glasses disappeared. Hades threw back his drink and then sighed. “Do you trust him? Your friend?”
Why would he ask? Athan’s mind went in several directions at once, but all avenues came to one destination. “Yes. I trust him. He wouldn’t lie.” In fact, Athan couldn’t think of a time when Xan had ever lied. “Why?”
“I’ve been trying to get the Sphinx here for almost eighteen years.”
That made no sense. “You have two dead ones here. Isn’t that enough?”
Hades chuckled again. He pushed to the edge of his seat and leaned forward. “I need her alive.”
Athan scooted back into the chair, the leather so soft he could curl up in it. He scratched his head and tried to put the pieces together. “You want to use her as a pawn?”
The crystal glass refilled, and the god again drained it. “Are you sure you don’t want a drink?” He set the tumbler down, and with a wave it was full. “I’m more than happy to make an exception for you. It appears that you could use some fortitude.”
Yes, he wanted a drink, but he had no reason to trust Hades. “So why do you want her?”
“Do you know,” he whispered, “if she has the Book of the Fates ?”
Athan willed his face to betray nothing. Why would Hades be asking about that? “Don’t you have them all here?”
The god’s pale lips twitched. “I was told we were missing exactly six. Up until last week, five of them were in the Olympian library. But they were delivered, interestingly, by your father.” He paused as if waiting for information. When Athan said nothing, Hades continued, “Like everything else associa
ted with the gods of the Underworld, the Books had been sealed. Those five were requested by Artemis a few months ago, for some research. I hope she was able to complete it before Hera found out.”
Artemis had requested the Books of the Fates Hope had searched while in the conservatory. “Hera found out what?”
Hades shrugged, but the intensity in his eyes belied his casual demeanor. “Hera was the one that ordered them returned . . . I was told.”
Why would Hera want the Books sealed in the Underworld? And why would Artemis get involved? And what was going on with Thanatos? Athan’s head hurt from trying to formulate answers to questions. His gaze flitted to the door. Where the Hades was Xan? “Why don’t you ask my father what’s going on?”
Hades tapped the arm of the chair. “We don’t speak of it. He . . . He would not get involved.”
Not get involved? It seemed that they were all swimming in it. Whatever it was. “What do you want from me?”
“And now we come to the crux of it. You are not of my realm, so I can’t compel you to serve me. In fact, I can’t even request it. So, I need you to think, young man.”
Athan tried to sort through the mess of the last few days. The Skia attack in the hospital, and then again in the Underworld. What had Hecate said?
“Thanatos is making a bid for your power.” As soon as he said the words, the truth hovered before them both.
“But that is nothing new,” the lord of the Underworld said. “There are squabbles all the time. Nothing that ever amounts to anything. We’re all stuck here together.”
Athan shook his head. Thanatos had tried to suck Hecate into it as well. “Are you really bound to the Underworld?”
Hades nodded. “And so is everything in my realm that isn’t mortal in some fashion. My Skia can leave and come back, but they cannot bring anything but the dead with them. I’ve had them try without success.” He held up his hand. “And before you protest their existence, they are a necessity. They provide balance and justice to the realm.”
“Balance?”
“Without Skia, the demigods would be immortal, just like the gods.”