She knelt before me. “I swear fealty—”
“Mom,” I flushed and forgot the tree in my embarrassment. “You don’t have to do that. I can’t take your power—”
She hushed me and wrapped a hand around my wrist. “I’m giving you your best chance.” She narrowed her eyes at me and gave me her “don’t argue” look. Then softer, she said, “Your very best chance. I love you darling.”
Her power slammed into me like a boulder crashing down from the sky. I stumbled back, but her grip tightened on me like an iron vise.
Why can’t we plant a weeping willow? I’d asked.
“Mom! What are you doing? It’s too much!” But she wouldn’t let me go. Then all at once it was gone. Not her power, but that feeling of being bombarded, overwhelmed. Pain I hadn’t even realized I was feeling was gone. It was like something snapped into place within me. I felt full, complete. Alive.
Never plant a willow tree, she’d replied.
She smiled at me, looking frail and vulnerable. Smaller somehow. As I stared at her, she changed. Her hair and eyes brightened, all the little details that made up her appearance suddenly became more obvious, hyper-realistic.
Because as soon as the trunk grows wide enough—
“No,” I whimpered. “Mom, no.”
It becomes your coffin.
I was looking at her soul.
“I love you so much,” she whispered. Then she was gone.
I fell to the ground as her dreamscape faded around me. “No,” I whispered, broken. Tears chased each other down my cheeks, but I wasn’t given more than a second to mourn before I felt the power of all the other gods slam into me, unfiltered from Hades. I felt them tethered to me, alive. It wasn’t fair.
Your very best chance. Her voice whispered through my memory.
Chapter XLV
Hades
PERSEPHONE SAT at the base of the weeping willow, sobbing.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
She sprang to her feet at the sound of my voice, whirling on me. “Bring her back!”
“I’m so sorry.” My voice was hoarse with grief. “I can’t.”
“I gave you Thanatos’ power! Use it!”
I shook my head. She was asking the impossible and she knew it.
Rage flashed in her eyes, and I felt her pull upon the power of the other gods. Maybe she even tried to use it on me, but her oath to never hurt me held.
“I wasn’t asking. Bring her back!”
“I can’t, Persephone.” I moved forward, arms encircling her, and she broke, folding into me. “I can’t,” I whispered. “I’m so sorry, I can’t.”
She drew back. “You knew she was going to do that?”
She knew. I didn’t need to answer but did anyway. “It was the only way to trigger you coming into your powers early. Persephone, it was your only chance.”
It was hard to watch her struggle with that. I was the only person in her life who had never once misled her. And now that was gone, along with her mother. “I offered my plan as an alternative, but she didn’t want to risk the rest of the world any more than you did.”
“What good is the rest of the world without her in it?” Her eyes glittered. “It needs her. I need her.”
But Persephone didn’t need Demeter. She hadn’t for a long time. And the world only needed Demeter’s power, which now resided in Persephone. But now wasn’t the time to lay the burden of the planet at her feet. Persephone had reached the last line of her defense. Questions. You can ask almost anything without lying.
There’s a reason there are seven stages of grief. It takes time for the mind to process tragedy. Grief, true grief, needs the cushion of denial and anger and blame to cope.
“Tell me I’m overreacting,” she begged. “Tell me I’ll see her in the Underworld every day, and that everything is going to be—”
I pulled her back to me, letting her sob into my shoulder. She’d seen Demeter’s soul vanish. Persephone knew what that meant. Demeter had given her everything, mind, body, and soul. There was nothing left of her. It wouldn’t have worked otherwise.
“I’m sorry,” I said again. Apologies were all I had left to offer. “I’m so sorry.”
Her thoughts went in endless circles while she tried to accept what had just happened. There was a glimmer of rationality, and then her mind latched on to someone she could feel angry at. Someone she could blame.
Zeus.
Chapter XLVI
Persephone
THE DREAMSCAPE faded around me as I regained consciousness. I found Zeus still on top of me, still hitting me with wave after wave of lightning. It had probably only been seconds since I’d lost consciousness, but it felt like a lifetime.
I kept my eyes closed, concentrating on the power he kept pulsing through me. A ghost of a plan passed on from my mother rooted in my mind. Gathering a small shield around my hand, I channeled the power to it—my power, the power of the other gods, and his own lightning. When the shield stretched to the breaking point, my eyes flew open.
Zeus jerked back in surprise, but I was ready. I brought my hand up, slamming it into him, then through him as I pulled on Thanatos’ power to influence souls. My hand turned white as it wrapped around Zeus’ soul.
Zeus’ eyes widened as he realized I had the upper hand. I didn’t have to overpower him. I didn’t have to be stronger than he was. All I had to do was squeeze. My fist clenched and he sputtered in shock.
“No, no, don’t! I’ll swear fealty. I’ll swear! I’ll give you every drop of my power. Just leave me enough to live.”
A smile curved on my lips, and I allowed myself one second to relish the feeling of being strong, powerful, in control. For once, I wasn’t the one quaking in fear. I loosened my grip. “Better get on with it then.”
Zeus’ mouth twisted in a snarl. “Oh, I’ll swear all right.” He chuckled. “I swear fealty.”
With that oath, his power slammed into me. Unprepared, I lost my grip and lurched backward. He pressed one hand to my chest, just above my heart, and let loose a torrent of power, bright and blinding like the sun, while his other hand wrapped around my throat. Again.
Gods, what was it with Zeus and chokeholds? I felt my flesh smoldering beneath his touch until my vocal cords withered and snapped under the pressure.
Give me teleportation rights, quick! Hades demanded.
Do what? I had no idea how to do what he was talking about.
Hades swore. I had the mental impression of being shoved aside. It reminded me of when I took too long to do something on the computer, and Melissa would snatch the keyboard and start typing away. Only in my head.
A pulse of power passed from me to Hades, followed by a long string of numbers I didn’t understand.
“You gotta get better with your wording, sweetheart,” Zeus sneered. “I gave you all my power. This is someone else’s.”
His fist drew back again. Words. He’d sworn fealty. I could order him to stop, but my scorched vocal cords couldn’t form words.
Hades’ hand shot out, intercepting Zeus’ fist. “That,” he grunted, lifting Zeus from me and throwing him against a wall, “is the last time you touch my wife.” His free hand smashed into Zeus’ face, and black veins spread across his skin.
Zeus let out an enraged roar, and the two exchanged blows, but it was obvious Hades had the upper hand. I gasped as my healing kicked in. Hades’ head jerked toward me at the sound, and Zeus surged forward, a flash of power emitting from his right hand in a bright blaze. Something shimmered in his left, something metal. Light fractured around it.
Voice restored, I shouted, “Stop!” Quick as a thought, I teleported in front of Hades. I didn’t know what that thing was in his left hand, but every instinct screamed to me that it was dangerous.
&nb
sp; Zeus froze, mid-slash. Shoving him into the wall, I gritted my teeth against the pain of the spike slicing into my arm.
I took his soul in my hand, and his eyes widened in shock. “I surrender.”
It didn’t matter. “Then tell me the absolute truth. No hedging, no double speak. What will you do now you’re sworn to me? Now that you’ve surrendered?”
Zeus’ jaw tightened. “Plot every minute of the rest of my existence to put an end to you and take my powers back, you miserable little bitch.” He smiled. “I won’t have to wait long.”
“Yeah, I thought so.”
“Doesn’t matter. You’re not going to kill me. You don’t have it in you.” His lips twisted in a smirk. “I know you. I’ve seen everything that goes on in that empty head of yours. You’re not strong enough.”
It didn’t take strength to kill someone. It took fear. Fear and the knowledge he would come back, that nothing and no one in my life would be safe so long as he walked the earth. I finally understood why Hades kept saying I was brave, kept claiming I was strong. He’d misinterpreted my naiveté for bravado.
His eyes turned cunning. “You’re different than the rest of us. And that’s okay. You’re... you’re... “
“A novelty?” I supplied, quoting back his earlier words.
“More than that. So much more. You don’t want to do this. You don’t want to be like us. You’re different.”
I was. And maybe I always would be. But this wasn’t just about what I wanted. I wouldn’t be the only in danger if I let him go. The other gods had given me everything they had so I would end this. Mom had died for this. Her realm was my responsibility now, as much as the Underworld. Maybe this would make me a monster, but everyone has to grow up sometime.
I looked Zeus straight in the eye. “Drop dead.”
The spike clattered to the floor, and the rest of Zeus’ power slammed into me. Hades snatched the spike, swearing as recognition dawned in his eyes.
I stumbled backward, clutching at my arm. The pain from the scratch lanced up to my elbow, spreading like wildfire. Hades steadied me, and I felt a pulse of power pass through me.
My heart stopped beating. I gasped, sinking to my knees. Hades held onto me, lowering me to the floor. He grabbed my arm just above the elbow. “Where does it hurt?” When I didn’t answer right away, he shouted the question over and over again in my face, panic evident in his eyes.
“Elbow.” Though the pain was creeping higher.
“Okay.” He nodded like he’d just made some decision. “Okay, it’ll grow back.”
Grow back? What the hell was he talking about, grow back?
I followed his train of thought and shook my head, trying desperately to scramble out of his iron grip. No, stop!
His hand tightened around my upper arm like a vise. Agony spread from his fingers, and my screams echoed from the rafters. Hades’ other hand went to my forehead, and then blissful darkness washed over me.
Chapter XLVII
Hades
I TELEPORTED TO Demeter’s backyard, then to the throne room in the Underworld. Persephone hung limp in my arms, face drained of all color. Her dress saturated with blood.
“Take her!” I demanded to a startled Charon. He opened his mouth, no doubt about to ask what happened. I didn’t give him the chance. Depositing Persephone into his arms, I teleported back to Zeus’ palace, grabbed the Olympian Dagger, and teleported to Demeter’s living room.
There were gasps and exclamations of surprise from the gods, and for a second I wondered what I must look like. I was no doubt covered in her blood. But before they could bombard me with questions, I grabbed Hephaestus by the shirt collar and yanked him toward me. Brandishing the Olympian Steele, I held it to his throat, careful not to so much as scratch his skin.
“You swore there were none left!” I shouted. I didn’t need to be this rattled, this emotional, this angry, not in this room with these gods, but there was no help for it.
Hephaestus blanched. “I... But... there’s no way—”
“You swore you’d melted down the very last of these abominations and taken their power into yourself. You swore!” I shook him like a rag doll.
Long ago, Hephaestus discovered some way to forge metal that could take down any god. The metal was infused with power that could kill in a matter of heartbeats. These weapons weren’t picky. A simple scratch or nick, anything that drew blood, and you were done for unless you acted fast.
“I did!”
“Then how the hell did Zeus have this?” Please gods, let me have been fast enough. Let her wake up. I’d done everything, hadn’t I? Stopping her heart stopped her circulation, and then I removed the infected area. She’d healed. That had to be a good sign, right? Crippling uncertainty gripped me like a vise. I wasn’t used to feeling uncertain. Once I told Persephone I’d never felt fear before I’d met her.
Now I was making up for lost time.
“I don’t know! But it’s not mine! I didn’t make this one, I swear.”
The words took a minute to sink in. If Hephaestus didn’t make this, then who did?
Luckily I knew who to ask.
Releasing Hephaestus so fast he stumbled backward, I was suddenly aware of everyone else in the room. The gods all had their eyes fixated on the Olympian Dagger. I clutched death in the palm of my hand.
No one fears death more than immortals. Humans adjust to their lot in life little bits at a time. They’re introduced to the concept with goldfish, then move up to puppies, ancient relatives and reckless friends, each victim closer to them than the last. Death follows them through life, making itself known. Numbing them bit by bit until there is nothing left in them but resignation. We had no such preparation. We were never meant to die.
“Is she dead?” Melissa’s shaky question shattered the silence of the room. It swelled and exploded into a million questions coming so fast and loud they blended together in an indistinct cacophony of chaos.
“Did she kill Zeus?”
“—our power!”
“—that weapon!”
“—break fealty.”
“—Olympian Steele! We need to—”
“She’s alive.” Please stay that way. “He’s dead. And I’m going back to the Underworld.”
“You swore she would break the bonds of fealty.” Athena’s eyes glittered with impatience.
My hand itched to slash the dagger across her throat. Persephone had gone through hell, sheer hell, while Athena sat on Demeter’s couch.
“Where’s my son?” Poseidon’s question made me wince. I’d forgotten about Triton.
I didn’t say anything, didn’t have to. Poseidon read the answer on my face. His knees buckled under him, face going blank with shock.
“I’m sorry,” I managed. And I was, for the kid.
“I didn’t deserve him.” Poseidon’s voice was raw.
No one argued. There are no shades of gray to gods. Without the ability to lie and make justifications, it’s difficult not to have a strong sense of justice. Poseidon was worse than most of us, but that any of us were able to look in the mirror every morning after the things we’d done was no small miracle.
None of us deserved to be happy, and we knew it. We didn’t deserve to have anything or anyone good in our lives. Gods, they’d known it. The Titans knew the abominations we would become. The horrific deeds we would commit. All the ways we would go on to abuse our creations. They’d tried to end our existence, to stop us, and in return we orchestrated their murder. We’d killed our parents. And then we created a species in our image, acting surprised when they spent every waking moment improving upon their methods of murder and mass destruction. We did that. We made them sadistic and twisted and broken. We were gods. Every bad thing that had ever happened lay at our feet. There was no one el
se to blame.
Every good thing, every happy moment filled me with dread because we didn’t deserve it. I’d spent my whole life with baited breath waiting for the day I’d have to answer for what I’d done. Zeus, Hera, Hestia, Demeter, Poseidon, they’d all paid the price for their sins. I was the only one left.
The thought had a prophetic ring to it, and my thoughts leapt to Persephone, unconscious and soaked in her own blood. Please, please don’t let her be my price.
I must have teleported. Suddenly I was in the Underworld, in Persephone’s room, standing beside her. She lay on top of the covers, arms folded over a bouquet of flowers on her chest like she was laid out in a casket. I made a strangled sound at the sight, startling Cassandra who was curled up in a papasan chair by Persephone’s bed.
“Hades!” She put a hand to her chest, like she could feel her heart beating faster in fear. Ridiculous, of course. Souls are heartless creatures. “Hypnos said it would help. The flowers I mean. Something about the energy?” She motioned around the room, and I noticed flowerpots and vases filled with a variety of plant life for the first time. “Hades, what happened? Why isn’t she waking up?”
“Like you don’t know.”
Cassandra flinched at my voice. “I’ll um... just...” She climbed out of the chair and edged toward the door. “I’ll check on you in a bit.”
The door closed with a click. I sank onto the bed, fumbling for Persephone’s hand and knocking aside the flowers. Her hands were cold. I’d broken her. I’d always known I would.
“Please,” I whispered, touching my forehead to hers. “Wake up.” Why was she so cold? I shifted my grip on her hand and touched two fingers to her wrist.
No pulse.
“Oh.” Well, now I felt really stupid. I touched my lips to hers, sending a ping of power through her to start her heart and repair the damage done in its absence. She gasped, eyes fluttering open.
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