Persephone woke with a start.
She did not know what had roused her, but a deep sense of unease clung to her. She pushed up from where she lay against Hades, a hand on his chest, eyes scanning the room, but nothing was there. Still, the feeling did not ebb. She sat up farther, and she was followed by Hades, his face etched with concern.
“What is that?” she asked.
She could not really describe the feeling except to say that it felt like the air within their realm had become a physical weight, composed of nothing but sorrow. As they breathed, it filled their lungs.
“It’s Thanatos,” Hades said. He threw off the blankets and left the bed.
Persephone followed, pulling on her robe, when she noticed Hades hesitate. She knew exactly what he wanted to say—stay here. His eyes were already pleading with her, but the words never left his mouth. Instead, he called on his magic, clothing himself in dark robes, and held his hand out.
The frustration that had been building inside her turned into a dizzying warmth. She had been ready to argue, had already thought of the things she would say to explain why she was coming with him, but suddenly, she did not need any of those words, and it felt like maybe he was finally starting to understand that there was a time and place for his protectiveness.
Besides, there was nothing he could say that would keep her in this room—not after what she had already faced within their realm.
They teleported and found Thanatos on the bank of the River Styx. He was sobbing and on his knees, clutching the hem of Hypnos’s robes.
Charon was only a few steps away, his boat docked at the pier behind him. He was holding his oar like a staff. He stared at Thanatos and his brother, his expression almost blank, as if he could not quite comprehend the scene in front of him.
Persephone was not even sure what she was witnessing.
“Oh great,” said Hypnos as they arrived. “Now we have an audience. Don’t you have any respect for the dead and those who mourn them?”
The dead?
“This cannot be,” said Thanatos.
“Do not mourn for me, Brother,” Hypnos said. “This changes very little for me. I was already a prisoner of this hellhole. Now I am just a dead one.”
Hypnos helped Thanatos to his feet.
It was almost disconcerting to see Thanatos so aggrieved, but she could not blame him. The last thing the God of Death had ever expected was that he would one day welcome his own immortal brother to his realm as a soul in the afterlife.
“I could scarce believe it myself when he arrived at my dock,” said Charon.
“What happened?” asked Persephone.
“I died,” Hypnos responded. His voice dripped with sarcasm. Clearly he hadn’t lost his sense of humor—or lack thereof.
“Why don’t you try answering that question again?” Hades suggested, his tone dark.
She could feel his frustration—he was not in the mood for games. Hypnos might be able to make light of his death, but the rest of them couldn’t, not when so many had come before him and had the potential to follow.
Hypnos’s mouth tightened.
“You want to know what happened? Theseus happened,” he said. “He brought me before Hera, who threatened to kill my wife if I did not provide her with a sleeping potion for Zeus. So I did.”
It would not be the first time Hera had required the use of Hypnos’s powers to lull Zeus into slumber. She’d done it twice before with the intention of overthrowing her husband.
But Persephone was surprised at the extent to which the leader of Triad had aligned himself with the Queen of the Gods. Though he had once claimed an alliance with Hera, Persephone was skeptical of the depth of the connection.
“Theseus brought you before Hera?” Persephone asked. What was the possible benefit of the demigod working with Hera?
“That is what I said.”
Persephone’s gaze shifted to Hades. “Did you know about the extent of this alliance?” Hades opened his mouth, but Persephone already knew the answer before he spoke. She looked away quickly, returning her attention to Hypnos. “You said Hera wanted a sleeping potion for Zeus. Is he…”
“He’s sufficiently comatose.”
Strangely, Persephone had no feelings one way or the other about Zeus. He deserved to be deposed and so much worse, but the end of his rule would be useless if someone even more terrible took his place.
“But they killed you and not him. Why?”
“For the same reason Theseus kept me alive,” said Hades. “He still hopes to convince Cronos to join his side—at least until he has conquered the world.”
“Does Theseus really believe he can take on a Titan?” Persephone asked.
“Theseus believes he is undefeatable,” said Hades.
Persephone wanted to ask why. Was it just his arrogance or something else? But then Hypnos spoke.
“I imagine he feels pretty invincible at the moment given that he is now in possession of the lightning bolt.”
“What?” Persephone asked, shocked by his words. Beside her, Hades went rigid.
Hypnos looked annoyed. “I said…”
“I know what you said,” Persephone snapped, but she did not wish to believe it. Theseus was now in possession of the Helm of Darkness and Zeus’s lightning bolt, and he likely had access to Poseidon’s trident, being that he was his son. Those were the three weapons that had aided the Olympians in overthrowing the Titans.
“Did he say anything else?” Hades asked.
“Nothing of his plans,” said Hypnos.
Persephone looked at Hades, who returned her stare. She wanted to say something, but everything seemed obvious. They had to stop Theseus. They had to make a plan. They had to do it quickly.
“Thank you, Hypnos,” said Hades. “I am sorry it had to end this way.”
Persephone expected the god to give some kind of biting reply, but he didn’t. Instead, he asked another question as he looked from Hades to Thanatos.
“Who will tell my wife?”
It was then Persephone understood what Hypnos truly mourned about his death.
“I think it would be best if she heard it from your brother,” said Hades.
Thanatos did not disagree.
They left the Styx and returned to the palace, no longer suffocating beneath the weight of Thanatos’s shock and sadness.
“We have to do something,” Persephone said when they appeared in their room.
Hades did not speak and turned away, which only made her more frustrated.
“We cannot just keep letting Theseus get away with these murders,” she said.
Hades halted and faced her. “Is that what you think I have been doing? Letting him get away?”
That was not what she meant to insinuate, but she was still working through the frustration she’d felt since she discovered everything he had kept from her, and it appeared those secrets were still coming out.
“Apparently I know nothing about what you’ve been doing,” she said. “Hera and Theseus are close allies?”
He looked away, glaring at the wall, but after a moment, he took a breath, and she felt the anger in the air between them lessen.
“Around the time you lost Lexa, Hera asked me to help her overthrow Zeus,” he said. “When I refused, she found someone else to help her execute her plan. She chose Theseus because she believed he was capable, but she also thought he would be easy to dispose of. I think she learned otherwise today.”
And now it was too late. He was dangerously armed, both with the weapons of the most powerful Olympians but also weapons that could kill gods.
“There is much more to that story,” he said. “But given what we have learned, I think we should summon our allies.”
As curious as she was, she agreed. Silence fell between them for a moment. She didn’t like the feel of it, like something angry still lingered between them, so she spoke, needing to be sure he knew how she felt.
“I…did not mean to suggest you haven’t tried to stop Theseus,” she said. “And I know there are still things you are working on telling me. I think I am just afraid of what I don’t know.”
Hades moved closer and took her face between his hands. “I am no less afraid even with all I know,” he said. “But I can promise you that I will never leave you in the dark again.”
She tipped her head back farther, holding his burning gaze. The corners of her lips lifted just a little as she brushed a strand of his hair away from his face.
“I want your darkness,” she said. “But I want your secrets too.”
“Darling,” he said. “Give me time, and I will give you everything.”
“I just want to know that we have time.” She spoke quietly, unable to keep the fear from entering her voice. “I want to know that we have forever.”
Hades studied her, slipping one hand around her waist. He kept the other on her face, his thumb caressing her cheek.
“Then perhaps we should dream about it,” he said. “So that we can think about it when we are on the battlefield.”
She raised a brow. “Did you not say that I am to think about the pleasure of being beneath you?”
“Well,” he said with a small smile. “That is one part of our forever I look forward to.”
He leaned close, his lips brushing hers, but instead of deepening the kiss, she felt him freeze, and she knew something was wrong. Instantly, her heart started to beat faster. Then a scream tore through the quiet.
“Somebody help! Please!”
“Is that…Ariadne?” Persephone asked. She exchanged a look with Hades before they both raced from their chamber, following her desperate screams until they found her in the foyer, bent over Dionysus’s bloodied body. Another woman—Phaedra, Persephone realized—stood nearby, holding her screaming baby and looking terrified.
“Help him, help him, please,” Ariadne sobbed as they approached. She was also covered in blood, but it was hard to tell if it was hers or Dionysus’s.
“Fucking Fates,” Hades muttered.
“He’s not healing,” Persephone whispered.
She was about to hurry down the hall to the queen’s suite for the fleece when Hades spoke.
“Hecate, the fleece!”
The goddess appeared. When she saw Dionysus, her eyes widened, and she moved to place the golden wool over him. There was no silence as they waited for the god to heal between Ariadne’s sniffling and the baby’s frustrated cries, which only seemed to grow louder the longer Phaedra tried to comfort him.
Persephone drew nearer to Hades as they watched Dionysus. She wondered if there were limitations to the fleece. Was there a point when even it could not heal?
Dionysus’s breaths deepened, and then his eyes fluttered and opened. For a brief moment, he seemed confused, but that was quickly eased when his gaze found Ariadne’s. He whispered her name and pressed his palm to her cheek. The detective smiled, though her mouth still quivered, and she covered his hand with her own.
“I’m so sorry,” Phaedra said, still unable to calm her newborn, whose cries seemed to move an octave higher.
“Do not apologize,” Persephone said. “He cannot help it, and you are doing your best, especially given these…harrowing circumstances.”
She could not be sure exactly what they had witnessed, but seeing Dionysus in this state was enough, especially since Phaedra had just given birth.
“Come,” said Hecate, nearing. “I will show you to the library so that you may ease your little one.”
“I will come with you,” Ariadne said, rising to her feet, letting Dionysus’s hand slip from hers.
“I think it is best you stay,” said Hecate. She looked past her to Hades and Persephone. “Lord Hades and Lady Persephone have questions, and I think it is likely you are the only one who can answer them.”
Persephone noted Ariadne’s curled fists, though she did not think it was frustration. The detective likely felt anxiety without eyes on her sister. Persephone knew that feeling because it lived in her heart every day. It was the fear that one day, she would wake up in a new world, one where Hades no longer lived, just like the day she arose without Lexa.
“Anyone want to explain what happened?” Hades asked.
Dionysus sat up, his hand going to his head.
“Are you all right?” Persephone asked, frowning.
“Yes, just dizzy,” he said. “I…I have never felt anything like that.”
“You mean pain?” Hades asked.
“Exactly,” Dionysus said, rising to his feet. “I am usually able to heal, but whatever I was struck with…”
His voice trailed off, but they did not need any more of an explanation.
“Who attacked you?”
“I am certain it was one of Theseus’s men,” said Dionysus. He was looking at the floor as he recalled what happened before he arrived in the Underworld. “I did not see him until it was too late. He had your helm, Hades.”
Dionysus met Hades’s gaze as he spoke the last words, and Persephone felt Hades’s anger rising, a wave of energy that heated her own skin.
“His name is Perseus,” said Ariadne. “He is a skilled warrior and an excellent tracker.”
“Perseus,” Hades repeated. “A son of Zeus?”
Ariadne nodded. “Of all the demigods, I would say he is the closest to Theseus.”
There was silence, and then Dionysus spoke. “I thought you might rejoice, Hades. You were right. Theseus did come.”
“I take no pleasure in your pain, Dionysus,” Hades said. “And if that is what you think, then you misunderstood my words.”
The silence that followed was strained, though something in Dionysus’s demeanor shifted. For a moment, Persephone thought he might apologize for his comment, but Hades was quick to dismiss them.
“We were just about to summon our allies to hear council on how we should proceed with Theseus,” he said. “At least now I do not have to go looking for you. Go. Bathe and be ready in an hour.” Hades looked down at Persephone. “Brief Aphrodite, Harmonia, and Sybil. I will return with Ilias, Hephaestus, and Apollo.”
“What about Her—”
Hades pressed a finger to her lips.
“Do not speak his name,” said Hades, dropping his hand.
Persephone drew her brows together. “Is…there something else I should know about?”
“Unless you want to hear another monologue about the faults of our hospitality and how loud you moan when I fuck you, then I suggest waiting until the last possible second to summon the God of Glitter.”
Persephone arched her brow. “As I recall, his monologue included an impression of you, not me.”
“That was before our most recent interlude,” he said.
She narrowed her eyes. “You know he doesn’t have any magic, right?”
“He doesn’t need magic to be summoned. At this point, it is a sixth sense. He’s just selective when he decides to use it.” Hades tilted her head back a little farther. “I will see you in an hour.”
She smiled as he kissed her, ignoring the dread that seeped into her stomach when he vanished, unable to keep from worrying that he might not return. The thought frustrated her, but she knew it would be a long time before that fear ever went away, given the horror of the labyrinth.
Persephone left the foyer in search of Aphrodite, Harmonia, and Sybil. When she did not find them in the queen’s suite, she wandered outside. As she stepped into the light, there were no signs of the decay that had plagued her realm during Hades’s absence. The air smelled like spring, earthy and floral, and everything seemed brighter and fuller. While it should feel normal, Persephone thought it seemed almost overdone, almost as if Hades thought he could make everyone forget what had happened during his absence.
She wondered if she had made a mistake when she’d allowed the Underworld to wither. In that moment, it had seemed like the right thing to do. She did not know if she would have been capable of summoning anything beautiful and lively with how she had felt, and what would she have done had he not returned? She thought of how Hades had described the start of his reign in the Underworld, how he’d lived a colorless and desolate life. Would she have subjected her people to that existence again?
The thought scared her.
She did not wish to be that kind of queen.
“Persephone!”
She looked up at the sound of her name and saw Sybil, who had risen to her feet at the sight of her. Persephone had been so lost in thought, she had nearly walked past her, Aphrodite, and Harmonia. They sat on a marble bench among the palace gardens, looking ethereal beneath the glow of the sun.
She smiled, feeling a genuine burst of happiness warm her chest, her anxiety momentarily forgotten as she crossed the green to them, embracing Sybil, then Aphrodite, then Harmonia. She held on to her longest before pulling away, holding the goddess’s clear-eyed gaze.
“I am so glad you are well,” Persephone said.
“I am well because of you,” said Harmonia. “Thank you, Persephone.”
“I do not deserve your thanks,” said Persephone. “You would have never found yourself in such a position if it wasn’t for me.”
“Do not shoulder the guilt of what happened to us,” said Harmonia. “You could not have known Theseus would be so evil.”
It was true that Persephone had not understood the extent of his malice until it was too late. Perhaps that would not have been the case had Hades been honest about his own dealings with the demigod.
All of a sudden, she felt an incredible rush of anger. It was like lightning in her veins, burning her body. As quickly as it shot through her, it was gone, leaving her cold and shaken. It was the first time she understood how she really felt about the entire thing, and it scared her.
“As much as I wish to give you more time for peace, I’m afraid I have come with bad news,” she said. “Hypnos arrived at the gates of the Underworld, slain by Theseus’s hand.”
Aphrodite looked pale, and Harmonia pressed a hand to her mouth. She decided she would wait until the meeting to tell them about Zeus and the lightning bolt.
“We are summoning our allies to discuss how we will move forward in our war against Theseus. I would like for the three of you to be present. Hades has already left to call on Hephaestus and Apollo. We will meet in Hades’s office within the hour,” Persephone said.
There was silence for a moment. Persephone’s attention was drawn to Aphrodite as the goddess shook her head.
“We act as if we are not gods,” she said. “We should have killed this man years ago.”
“We may be gods,” Persephone said. “But we are ruled by a power greater than us.”
“You mean the Fates?” Aphrodite sneered. “There is no greater betrayal than their golden threads, weaving pain and suffering while they sit idly in their mirrored halls. Perhaps it is they who should—”
“Aphrodite!” Harmonia snapped, her tone full of warning. “You sound like them.”
Like the Impious. Like Triad.
Except in some ways, Persephone agreed. The Fates were not directed by a sense of justice. They measured, wove, and cut to control under the guise of maintaining balance. When Hades took or gave life, they demanded an exchange. When Demeter had begged for a child, they had given her a daughter but entangled her fate with one of her greatest rivals.
It had been a punishment for Demeter and a gift to Hades and Persephone, but even now, they knew not to take it for granted, always aware that at any moment, the Fates might unravel their destiny. While Hades had always sworn to find his way back to her, deep down, she knew that while the three lived, it would be impossible.
Persephone could not help wondering what they had prepared for the future of the world.
“Do you think the Fates will really allow Theseus to overthrow the Olympians?” she asked.
“If they wish to punish us,” said Aphrodite.
“Even if Theseus intends to kill them?”
“The Moirai cannot see their end,” said Sybil. “It is the price they pay for weaving the fate of the world. It is likely they do not expect to die any time soon, especially at the hand of a demigod.”
Zeus had assumed the same, and now he lay tangled within the bonds of eternal sleep, weaponless and vulnerable, but perhaps that was the end they had woven for their father. It was impossible to know, and the sisters certainly wouldn’t tell.
It left Persephone wondering if, in some ways, Theseus was right. Should their battle begin with the end of the Fates?
