by Molly Ringle
“Oh, Goddess,” he managed. And he had a few seconds in which to congratulate himself on getting her to the wanton state he had desired, a few more seconds to feel ecstatically in love with her. Then her hand and body were guiding him in, and he was encased in her, and the world became whole again for the first time in so, so long.
She was tense and tight in his arms, and he held still a moment. “Is that all right?” he asked, worried.
She took a few breaths, and he felt her ease up again. She nodded, hooking a leg around his. “Very. Keep going.” She lifted her hips. “Please.”
He kept to a slow pace. As slow as he could, which increasingly was not so slow, because she was encouraging him with the sounds she was making, the way she was stroking his back, sucking his tongue. She shattered into quivers before long, and Adrian tumbled after her. A pillow fell off the bed, along with a bobby pin or two from Sophie’s hair.
When they finally eased to a halt, he slid off her and cradled her against him.
Joy washed through every bit of his flesh. Like a raft reaching shore, he found himself delivered with happy humility back to the present. This lifetime was just as epic as any of the others and deserved some kudos too. It might even turn out to be the best yet.
“Hey,” he said. “I’m Kiwi Ade. I comment on your blog sometimes. I’m going to be in your area, do you want to get together for coffee or something?”
She hugged him closer. “Sure. Sounds fun. I’m looking forward to meeting you.”
He nuzzled one of her stray curls. “I love you. Have I said that?”
“Technically no. But it goes without saying.” She kissed his shoulder. “I love you, too. That was…” She sighed blissfully. “So good.”
“Beyond good. I’ll have to dig into those other languages for another way to say ‘fabulous.’”
“Sweet as?” she suggested.
“Definitely sweet as.”
“We’ve done this in so many lives, it almost didn’t feel like it was the ‘first time,’ you know?”
“Hmm. So is someone not a virgin if they’ve eaten the pomegranate and have had sex in previous lives? Interesting question.”
“That would mean Niko’s shagged, like, half the souls in the world,” Sophie said. “If we’re counting everyone, ever.”
“Uh-huh. Including Zoe.”
Sophie propped herself up on her elbow. “Yes! Hekate and Hermes. Zoe said something, but I didn’t know if it was just like one time, or…?”
Adrian shook his head, grinning. “I asked Freya, since Aphrodite was around at the time for that kind of gossip. She said—” He lapsed into an imitation of Freya’s Swedish accent. “’Oh my God, so much sex. For years and years.’”
Sophie gasped in scandalized delight. “No wonder Zoe and Niko have been so weird around each other! Have you noticed?”
“Oh, for sure. The awkwardness, it burns.”
“How can we use this to tease them? I mean, we have to.”
“I’m sure the right moment will present itself.”
Sophie settled down on his chest. “Unless,” she said, “Thanatos gets us first.”
“Don’t even say that.”
“That’s partly why I wanted to do this, though. Because if anything happens to either of us, I would regret not having done it.”
He stroked her bare back. “I’m telling you, this time we won’t, we can’t, let it happen. You said it yourself: we’re all so much smarter now. Hey, we have a ghost army. We’re going to end this cult. The whole bloody thing.”
“I hope so.” She sounded grave, but not scared. It gave him strength.
But it didn’t quell the fear that had taken up residence in his own heart, and burned there every day like a cinder he couldn’t reach. He could never control everything. Possibly no one controlled everything, not even the Fates or the Goddess or whoever. And when you lived in the Underworld, wielding slightly-limited immortality, someone was always going to want to kill you. Always. You could hide and cower, or you could push back.
He intended to push back. But it didn’t mean he wasn’t afraid.
Chapter Forty-Nine
Hekate was able to keep the worst of the pregnancy nausea at bay with magic, but it took constant vigilance. The effort taxed her, and she walked about feeling as if she were doing everything at one-fifth the usual speed.
Hermes noticed, of course. He dropped in for a visit a few days after the symptoms had set in, and frowned at her. “Are you all right?”
“Oh, it’s just—this war. I’m exhausted, running about trying to decide what’s to be done. Worrying.”
He nodded solemnly. Anatolia had been raiding Greek cities and settlements again around the Aegean coast with larger forces than ever. Thanatos appeared to be mixed up in it somehow, influencing the might of the invading armies to target and destroy immortals who were helping defend Greece. No immortals had died yet in the latest month of fighting, but there’d been a couple of near misses. Artemis and Poseidon had both barely escaped from armed mobs in time. It was enough to put dark smudges of worry under the eyes of any immortal, so Hermes accepted Hekate’s story for now.
But during the next few visits, each six or seven days apart, he studied her more shrewdly and his questions retreated into what she recognized as his place of silent calculation. Only a matter of time, she thought with weary acceptance.
Finally one day, he embraced her as usual upon arriving in the Underworld, then held her at arm’s length, and swept a look from her swelling belly and hips to her breasts, now twice as large as they’d ever been, and finally up to her face. “You’re pregnant.” No teasing now. Through his touch she felt alarm, grimness, maybe anger.
She nodded, letting her gaze slip down. “You were right. It’s already absurdly exhausting.”
He let go of her, pivoted, and stalked over to the cold hearth. She detested the smell of smoke lately, and hadn’t lit a fire in days. He stared at the hearth with arms folded. “Well. On purpose, then, I assume? You were always so careful before. And you lately did state your interest.”
His aloofness made her want to weep, but then lots of stupid things did lately. She turned the emotion to anger, to match his, if he wanted to be this way. “And you stated your lack of interest. That’s fine. I still plan to go it alone, as I do with most of life.”
He kept his back to her. “Indeed. You got what you needed from me. Or was it even me?”
Her fury boiled over. Without lifting a finger, she made a sandal rise from the floor and fly across the room to smack against his back.
He jumped and spun around, outrage on his face.
“Yes, it’s yours,” she said. “Another month or so, and you’d be able to sense that yourself. But I forgot, you have no patience whatsoever.”
Hermes kept his arms folded, and furrowed his brow as he looked her up and down again. “You’re mad. I mean, you’re actually acting completely unlike yourself.”
“It isn’t fair! You say you love me, but women you’ve barely loved at all have borne your children, and I haven’t. Why shouldn’t I?”
He blinked and gave his head a rapid shake. “You see, mad. There’s no connection between one of your statements and the next.”
She stamped her foot. “Yes there is! I do this out of love. For you and for this child. All I ask is that you treat me with kindness, not this—this contempt.”
He walked back to her, his hands shifting to settle on his hips. “And you say you love me, but you disregard my wishes and outright lie to me.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Only you were allowed to lie in this world, Lord Divine Trickster?”
His eyes grew colder, though she thought she detected hurt and fear in their centers. A touch on his skin would tell her. But she wouldn’t stoop to stealing a glimpse in that manner, not now. “I wish you well, love,” he said. “I always have. I wish you both well.” His gaze touched her belly for a moment. “But don’t come find me again until you’ve
decided you’re done being insane.”
He turned, cloak flaring, and stalked out.
***
Zoe stormed up to Niko, who was sitting outside Landon’s cell, playing some bloody game on his phone while Landon behind the bars was playing one on some other phone. Niko looked up at her with a calm smile. She kicked his leg.
“Ow!”
“I was pregnant with your child, and you left me?” she shouted.
Landon looked up, round-eyed.
“Not this life,” she snapped at him. “Ancient times. Mind your own business.”
Landon obediently turned his attention back to the phone.
“Well, you could at least keep going with the memories.” Niko rubbed his bruised leg. “See how it turns out.”
“That doesn’t change that you called me insane and walked out. Of course I was insane! Hormones, you idiot!”
Niko got to his feet, and slipped his phone into his pocket. “We didn’t know about hormones back then. Science was not exactly a thing yet.”
“Assholery was apparently fully a thing.”
“Steady on.” He laid his hands on her shoulders. “You did get pregnant intentionally, using me as a sperm donor after I’d specifically said I didn’t think we should. If some woman other than you did that to me, what would you think?”
She shook his hands off her. “I’d think—well yeah, I’d think she was mental, but I’d also tell you to go over there and massage her bloody feet!”
Niko exchanged a glance with Landon, who was wisely staying silent, then lifted his eyebrows at Zoe. “Would you like me to massage your feet?”
“No! I’m not pregnant!”
Niko glanced again at Landon. “Excuse us a minute.” He slipped his arm around Zoe and led her down the path between stalagmites and columns, far enough to be out of earshot of Landon but still able to see him.
“What’s this, we’re giving video games to the prisoners now?” Zoe said.
“Well, it’s that or listen to him angst about things.”
“Ugh. You’re just—you’re—”
“Okay.” He stopped and leaned against a column, hugging her against his side. “By modern standards, I acted like an asshole. In fact, by modern standards I often still do.”
“Too right.”
“But you know what? I’m flattered you care this much.”
“Bite me.” But the touch of his body told her he really was flattered. The affection coming off him took the edge off her fury. So she stayed, sulking, under his arm.
“Here,” he said. “Right here and now, go skimming those memories further ahead.”
“Why? So I can see some amazing moment in which you’re not a douchebag?”
“That, and because I want to be here when you meet our son.”
Zoe’s knees wobbled as the full force of that idea finally hit her. She clutched the side of his coat for balance. “Oh,” she said. “Golly.”
***
Hekate sensed the direction in which Hermes lay, of course, if she left the Underworld and cleared the oak forest. But she refused to go see him. There was no point until this poisonous mix of anger, hurt, and guilt sorted itself out and pointed her to the right thing to say. Which, of course, would depend on what he had to say.
One day in the fourth month of her pregnancy, after working down a decent lunch of fruit and fish, she flopped onto the bed and let her weariness knock her into a nap. Wading out of sleep some time later, she assumed she was dreaming the sweetly strong sense of Hermes beside her. She opened her heavy eyelids, tried to roll from her side to her back, and met resistance to her movement. He was lying behind her, his arm latched over her.
She turned to gaze at him. He blinked slowly, as if he’d been napping too.
“You’re back,” she said, her voice husky with sleep.
“Yes.” He settled his hand low on her belly. “I sense the little one now.” Solemn love streamed from his touch and his voice.
Hekate’s heart released its bitter constraints; tenderness washed over her and soothed her. “Me too. I’ve been able to feel him, or her, moving for a few days now.”
Hermes resettled onto his back, drawing Hekate up against him with one arm. “I went to see Pan. Hadn’t seen him in a while.”
“Oh. How is he?”
“He’s well. He reminds me of you, you know. The reason we rarely see him is he’s always out in the wilderness investigating the forces of nature. He can’t manipulate them quite like you can, but he senses them better than most.”
“Yes. I’ve noticed that about him.” She decided to humor him, see where he was headed with this discussion, before cornering him into exchanging proper words of reconciliation.
“Lately he’s concerned about the volcano on Thera,” Hermes continued. “The citizens of the island are concerned too. It’s been rumbling and belching.”
“Those earthquakes we’ve been feeling. I think they come from that direction.”
“I wouldn’t doubt it. Pan’s studying the volcano, as close as he can get without the lava incinerating him.” Hermes chuckled. “Crazy man.”
“Well, that he gets from his father.”
Hermes caressed her arm, gazing up at the dark ceiling. “I’m proud of him. I’m proud of all my children. I know I’ll be proud of this one too. Especially because it’s yours.”
She wrapped her arm across his chest and burrowed in closer. “Thank you for coming back. I know I handled it wrong, underhandedly. Not telling you.”
“That’s no more than I would have done. The trouble was…” He sighed. “I liked what we had, and you changed it.” He turned his face so his lips rested against her hair. “But what’s done is done. I can adapt. It’s just, now I have more to worry about. I hate worrying.”
“I understand. I do.”
“How is the tree?” he asked.
“Still not producing. And I still can’t tell if the smaller trees will be of any use.”
“More worries.”
They reclined in their embrace a while, until an earthquake jolted through the cave. Hermes clutched her close, and Hekate cast a protective spell around them—including Kerberos within it, who had jumped onto the bed to stand and bark. Bits of rock clattered to the floor; bronze goblets clinked against one another and fell over. In a few breaths the shaking died away, and the Earth lay still again.
“Whew. Speaking of those,” Hermes said.
“More and more frequent. I don’t like it.”
“They’re in both realms at once?”
“Yes. Earthquakes always are. They’re connected to some deep part of the Earth that both realms have in common, is how it feels to me.”
“Don’t suppose you can settle them down with your powers,” Hermes said.
“No, that’s far beyond me. And don’t tell Rhea or Ariadne, but I don’t think sacrificing people on Crete stops them either.”
He chuckled, sounding relaxed. Even through his skin, she felt the brief spike of tension over the earthquake slipping away, far faster than it did for her or most people. He did indeed adapt well.
“Will you keep coming every so often to see me, just as you did before?” she asked. “That’s all I wish, really. I liked what we had, too.”
“Of course.” He slipped a hand under her tunic and played with her breasts, which had grown stupendously heavy lately. “Maybe even a tiny bit more often than usual.”
True to his word, he kept visiting her over the months, despite the rest of her becoming heavier and less agile too. His good humor made her laugh, which kept her spirits above water when the rest of life—the pregnancy, the ailing chrysomelia tree, the battles, the earthquakes—threatened to drown her. It was Hermes who dashed out to fetch her appointed midwives, Rhea, Amphitrite, and Galateia, when her labor pains began after the ninth moon.
And it was Hermes who lay beside her afterward in the middle of the night, there on that same bed, and watched in pleased interest as she coaxed
their newborn son to catch her nipple in his mouth and suck down some milk.
“I’ve never actually stayed through that whole process, you know,” he remarked.
“You didn’t faint. Congratulations.”
“You forget how much blood I’ve endured on other occasions. This wasn’t quite so much in comparison.”
She thought of the night she’d been kidnapped by Thanatos, and remembered with a shudder the sight of Hermes and Dionysos fighting the intruders while blades hacked at them and blood soaked their clothes. “Sorry. No, of course.”
“But Ares would have fainted.” Hermes sounded fully unoffended and confident. “I’m certain of that.”
Hekate laughed. “Agreed.” She stroked her knuckle against the fine brown fuzz on the baby’s head. “I’ve decided on his name. Eleusis.”
“Ah, after the town?”
“The temple, yes. Where my magic came back to me.”
“And where a few other things happened after that.” He managed to sound ribald even at such a moment, which made her laugh again. “Eleusis,” he said. “Perfect.”
Chapter Fifty
Oh, golly,” Zoe said again. She and Niko had slid down to sit against the bumpy stone column. His arm was still around her, and now she leaned her head on his chest and laughed in giddiness. “He was beautiful.”
“And I’ll tell you now, we had every reason to be proud of him. But…”
Dread clutched Zoe’s heart. She looked up. “What? What happened to him?” She could have torn through her own memories to find it, but that would take longer, and suddenly she cared too much to bear any delay. Strange—technically she’d heard about Hekate having a child, secondhand from Adrian a long time ago, and it hadn’t occupied her mind much at all until now. She’d assumed it was farther ahead in Hekate’s future, some distant event. But here it was, all at once vitally important.
“Nothing happened to him, really,” Niko said. “He was all right. But since we’re here…keep going in the memories. It’s just a little further now.”
He sounded quiet and grim, almost the way he’d sounded a few weeks ago when the topic of his killing Quentin came up. Zoe went so cold with fear that she felt nauseated. But it was all long ago and done, she reminded herself. It was best to know.