A strange, strained quiet settled between the gods, heavy with shock. It was a quiet Hades knew well, one he had often been responsible for but had rarely felt until Persephone. It was almost like she had taught him how to grieve—first for his mother and now for Apollo, who had come to mean more to him because of how much he meant to Persephone.
“We should prepare funeral rites,” Hecate said.
Hades knew why she suggested it. The sooner she began, the faster Apollo would make it across the Styx, the sooner everyone would see him again.
Artemis’s gaze snapped to Hecate’s, her words slipping between clenched teeth. “If you touch him, I will kill you.”
“There has been too much death already,” said Hecate. “Do not threaten more.”
The goddess dissolved into tears. It was strange to see her like this and harder to watch. When Artemis wasn’t stoic, she was vengeful. There was no in-between—except for now.
“Please,” she begged. “Do not take him away.”
Hades stepped forward and knelt, his face level with hers.
“Without rites, he cannot rest,” he said. “Let Hecate honor him so that you can meet him at the Styx.”
“You will let me see him?” she asked.
“I swear it,” he said.
She took a few more quivery breaths, looking down at Apollo’s charred body. Hades did not know how she did it—how she held him so tightly when he looked nothing like he did in life.
“I’ll see you soon,” she told Apollo and bent to kiss his forehead.
When she released him, Hecate took him away.
“I don’t understand,” said Hermes. He sat at the bottom of the staircase, staring at nothing, his gaze unseeing. It was how everyone looked—completely lost. “I thought Theseus was vulnerable.”
“Dionysus said he was slow to heal,” said Hades.
“But even gods can be wounded,” said Persephone. “Theseus’s skin was like…steel.”
“Then he has become invincible,” said Hades.
“But…how?” Persephone asked.
“Hera,” said Aphrodite. “She has a tree of golden apples that, with one taste, can make mortals immortal and the vulnerable invulnerable. It is obvious he has had a taste of the apple.”
“It sounds like we all need to eat from that fucking tree,” said Hermes.
“I suppose that depends on what you value more—your immortality or invincibility,” said Aphrodite. “The tree will take one to grant the other.”
“Perhaps Theseus plans to eat another apple when all of this is done,” said Artemis.
“We can only hope. It is rumored that partaking of the tree twice means death.”
There was a beat of silence.
“So you mean he cannot be wounded at all?” asked Persephone.
“No,” said Hades, and if they could not pierce his skin, they could not even poison him with Hydra venom.
“Even Achilles had a weakness,” said Aphrodite.
“Theseus has many weaknesses,” said Hades. “The question is, which one will kill him?”
As promised, Hades took Artemis to the Styx, though she was not alone in welcoming Apollo to the Underworld. Persephone and Hermes followed, and so did Aphrodite, Hephaestus, Harmonia, and Sybil. Thanatos arrived shortly after, followed by Tyche and Hypnos, who crossed his arms over his chest, eyeing the crowd of souls who waited with fragrant laurel and hyacinth and played sweet music on lyres.
“Where was all this when I died?” he demanded.
“Not to be rude, Hypnos, but you’re not that popular,” said Hermes.
“That is rude…ass!”
“Calling me an ass isn’t exactly nice either,” said Hermes.
“I wouldn’t have called you an ass if you hadn’t said I wasn’t popular. I’m popular. Everyone likes to sleep!”
“No offense, but do you know how much I could accomplish if I didn’t have to sleep?”
“I suppose we’ll find out,” said Hypnos, smiling with malice.
Hades rolled his eyes. “Fuck, they are exhausting,” he muttered.
Persephone’s soft laugh drew his attention. “I don’t know. I think they are kind of cute.”
“Try living with it for an eternity,” he said.
“I hope I do,” she replied.
Hades was surprised by her words, and he instantly felt guilty for his. It had been an insensitive thing to say given not only Apollo’s death but also Tyche’s and Hypnos’s.
“You will,” he said. “You have no choice.”
She smiled at him, though there was no amusement in her eyes.
“You know that is not how Fate works,” she said.
“I know what I will do if anything were to happen to you,” he said. “The promise of that future alone should keep the Fates at bay.”
He knew she was not convinced, and in some ways, he did not blame her. From where they stood right now, it was hard to envision a future.
Suddenly, there was a gleam on the horizon, and Charon’s ferry came into view. From this distance, he could see Apollo standing at the front of the boat, the lantern on the bow swinging from the choppy waters of the Styx.
Hades wondered how the ferryman was handling the deaths of the Divine. In all his years ferrying souls, he had brought one god here, and that had been Pan, Hermes’s son.
The souls cheered, and Persephone left his side to be nearer to the pier, though she was careful not to overtake Artemis, whose feet were barely on the dock. Hades worried she might fall in and be taken to the bottom of the river by the dead, but Apollo knocked her back, rocking Charon’s boat as he launched himself at his sister and pulled her into a tight hug.
Charon docked his boat and came to Hades.
“There are hundreds of souls at the gates,” he said. “What is happening up there?”
“Chaos,” Hades answered. He had no other way to explain it.
He had expected Theseus to plan something during the funeral games but nothing on the scale he had managed today. Theseus had wielded the lightning bolt.
That alone was enough to convince the people of New Greece that his abilities exceeded those of the gods, but then he had murdered Apollo.
In that instant, Theseus had essentially replaced two gods.
And that had only been the start, because once Apollo had fallen and Zeus was revealed, Theseus called to his father, Poseidon, commanding him to make the earth tremble and the seas shift, bringing about a disaster Hades had only just begun to comprehend.
Suddenly, it was not just the gods who were under Theseus’s threat but the whole of New Greece.
“If you do not do something soon, the entire world will reside here within your realm, and then you will have to worry about what Theseus has planned for you.”
“I already do,” said Hades.
His gaze shifted to the souls and gods gathered to welcome Apollo, and he wondered how he had come to care for so many people, but one look at Persephone and he knew—it was her.
She was the thread that bound them, the one who had brought them all together, and now he would do anything to protect them.
Except he was already failing, as was evident by Apollo’s death.
“You are far too happy to be dead, Apollo!” Artemis said, but everyone knew what she really meant—you are far too happy to leave me.
His features softened. “Do not mourn for me, dear sister. I have wanted this for a long time.”
“But why? Why would you want this?” she asked, stretching out her arms.
Apollo’s gaze followed, shifting over the landscape of Hades’s realm before he met her gaze again. “Because it is the only way to have peace.”
Hades could feel Artemis’s confusion. She did not understand the burdens on Apollo’s soul. His regrets went deep. Hers did not.
When Apollo moved on to Persephone, she threw her arms around his neck and held him tight. Hades could feel her pain and longed to comfort her. But Apollo would not release her, seeming to convey all that their friendship had meant to him in a simple embrace. When she pulled away, he smiled.
“Don’t cry, Seph,” he said. “Nothing has to change. Not even our bargain.”
And with that teasing statement, the energy around them lightened.
“Oh, fucking Fates,” Hades grumbled. “How has that not ended?”
“Jealous, Hades? I was thinking that when things calm down, Seph and I could go on a picnic.”
“Good luck,” said Hades. “You have no magic to summon her.”
“Then I guess I’ll have to do it the mortal way and knock on your door.”
“I will throw you in Tartarus,” Hades shot back with a smirk, grateful for Apollo’s levity and the relief it seemed to be bringing Persephone.
“That is a steep punishment for a knock. You should just be glad I offered. I tend to prefer just appearing where I’m not wanted.”
“A picnic sounds nice, Apollo,” Persephone said, wiping the tears from her face and beaming at the god.
He grinned. “Did you hear that, Hades? It’s a date!”
Hades glared as Apollo moved on to greet Hermes, ruffing up his golden hair.
“Remind me to show Apollo a few spots for his upcoming picnic,” said Hades as Persephone returned to his side.
“You will not send him into the Forest of Despair,” she said sharply.
“What?” he asked. “It would be funny.”
She leaned close, letting her hands slide up his chest. “You know what else is funny? Blue balls.”
“No,” he said. “That is cruel.”
“And so is the forest.”
He sighed. “Fine.”
“I knew you’d see it my way,” Persephone said.
She rose on the tips of her toes, and Hades bent to kiss her when cheers suddenly erupted. They looked to see Apollo and Hyacinth surrounded by souls, locked in each other’s arms, mouths pressed together in a passionate kiss.
Persephone took a breath. She pressed both hands to her heart.
“I did not think any good would come of this,” she said.
Hades shifted uncomfortably, torn between telling her the truth and letting her believe a lie—except she didn’t give him a choice between the two. She looked up at him, already suspicious of his silence.
“Hades?”
The way she said his name, half question, half pleading. It made his throat feel tight.
“Tell me he will not have to drink from the Lethe.”
“No, he will not,” he said. “But Hyacinth cannot stay.”
Persephone blinked. “What do you mean he cannot stay?”
“It is time for his soul to reincarnate.”
He realized it was terrible timing—not only because Apollo had just arrived in the Underworld but because the world was a terrible place—but there was nothing he could do.
The color drained from her face.
“Hades,” Persephone whispered.
“I know what you would ask of me,” he said. “But this is Hyacinth’s choice to make.”
She did not argue or beg, but she blinked away tears as she gazed at the two lovers.
“Perhaps he will change his mind now that Apollo has arrived.”
But Hades knew not even she believed those words.
“We are still counting the dead,” said Ilias. “But we are nearing a thousand with many unaccounted for.”
After his conversation with Charon, Hades had sent the satyr to gather information on the state of New Athens.
There was no good news.
“We are no longer part of the mainland,” he said. “It has become an island, surrounded by the Aegean, which technically makes it Poseidon’s territory.”
It was as Hades had feared, though he did find his brother’s role in this suspicious. Poseidon had always wanted to rule, so it was strange that he would go to this extent to see someone else on the throne, even if it was his son.
“The separation destroyed mostly larger buildings. The Acropolis, the Parthenon, and Alexandria Tower have all fallen. There is also significant damage to the hospital though it is still operational unless its generator fails. The rest of New Athens is in total darkness.”
Hades was quiet, considering.
The information Ilias had offered was good, but it was too general.
“If we are going to help those in need, we are going to have to have a better idea of what is happening on the ground,” said Hades.
“I can summon a few contacts to Iniquity,” said Ilias.
“It still stands?”
“For now, though I have a feeling Theseus is eager to destroy anything that reminds him of the gods, especially you.”
“Flattered,” said Hades. “But if that is the case, meeting there is not safe. I think you should summon them here.”
“As you wish,” said Ilias.
He did not wish it, but he had no choice because he knew where this was going. Theseus would target everyone who was loyal to the gods, and if they did not forsake them, he would execute them.
He wanted no worshippers left, save those who would bow to him, though Hades would challenge him to find one person who did not believe—or fear—death.
“Summon me when you return,” Hades said and left his office for his chambers.
When he entered the room, he found Persephone lying on her side, her back to the door. He thought she might be asleep, but as he approached the bed, she rolled to face him.
He could not help staring. She was beautiful. Her skin was rosy and her hair mussed. She looked almost dreamy, as though she had just been roused from sleep.
“Did I wake you?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” she said. “I cannot remember sleeping.”
Probably because she was so exhausted.
He sat on the edge of the bed and let his hand rest on her hip. She was warm beneath his hand, and he had to resist the urge to lie down beside her, because if he did, he would not get up again until morning.
“Where did you go?” she asked.
“Nowhere yet,” he said. “I was speaking with Ilias. I have asked him to summon a few contacts. We need to get a sense of what is happening in the world, and the best way is through Iniquity.”
Persephone sat up, letting her blankets fall away. She did not seem to care that she was completely naked, and while he appreciated the view, she made it very hard to concentrate on anything other than his growing erection.
“Can I come?” she asked.
Hades smirked. “I am usually inside you when you ask me that.”
She shifted onto her knees. The position made her taller, and her breasts were level with his face.
“If you say no, then you may never come inside me again.”
The humorous light in Hades’s eyes died, and he lifted a brow, challenging her threat. “As if you could go a day without my pleasure.”
“Do not underestimate me, my lord.”
“As it is, neither of us will have to find out,” he said, pulling her into his lap. He sucked one of her nipples into his mouth. She cried out, her hands gripping his face. He chuckled darkly as he released her. “I wasn’t going to say no. Though I would prefer if you slept.”
“You know I will not sleep,” she said.
This time, her teeth and tongue grazed his ear. He shuddered, his hands tightening on her waist.
“No,” he said and pulled away to meet her gaze. “And if I were to leave you, I would return to find all my whiskey gone.”
“Someone has to drink it,” she said, giving him a knowing tap on his nose.
He didn’t think she had noticed, but of course, she was right. He had not had a drink since returning from the labyrinth, and he didn’t know why. It was not as if he hadn’t tried, but he hesitated each time he brought the glass to his lips.
He felt ridiculous.
It was not as if alcohol affected him, so why did he feel so haunted every time he picked up the glass?
Persephone slipped closer and kissed him.
“I am not laughing at you,” she whispered.
“I know,” he said, his fingers fanning out across her waist. “And I know I should celebrate my abstinence, but I fear what’s coming next.”
“What is coming?” she asked. Her voice was breathy but confused.
“I don’t know,” he said. “Something worse. Anger maybe.”
It was always that way—when one thing ended, another took its place.
“Hades,” she whispered. “Where is this coming from?”
“I always have found a way to deal with my pain,” he said. “After the Titanomachy, I was isolated, and now I am numb. I coped with the first by being cruel, and now I drink. So what does it mean if I don’t?”
She held his gaze and pressed her hand to his heart. “Do you feel numb now?”
“No,” he said. “Not with you so near.”
She curled her fingers into his shirt, her breath dancing over his lips.
“Then maybe you have already found another vice.”
Hades manifested in the shadows of Nevernight with Persephone, Ilias, and Hermes. He had no intention of announcing himself yet, curious to hear what would be said in his absence—likely something far more useful than what would be said if his presence was known.
He looked down at Persephone and pressed a finger to his lips before turning his attention to the members of Iniquity. Two sat at the bar, hunched over their drinks—an older man named Ptolemeos and a younger one named Jorn. A woman had made herself comfortable behind the bar. Her name was Stella. Three others sat nearby on a couch—Madelia Rella, Leonidas Nasso, and Damianos Vitalis.
“They say we’ve been completely cut off from the rest of the world. There aren’t even ports or ships to get us out,” Ptolemeos was saying.
“You expect us to believe you have no way off this island, Ptolemeos?” Damianos asked.
“I didn’t say that, but it will cost more,” he said.
Persephone stiffened beside Hades. He squeezed her hand, hoping it communicated what he wished—reassurance that he would not let that happen.
“The tunnels are flooded. The danger is higher.”
Something heavy settled in Hades’s stomach at that news. He had not considered that the tunnels would be flooded. Dionysus had measures in place for events like this. Had something gone wrong, and if so, where were he and the maenads?
“You intend to charge families to escape this fuckery?” Madelia Rella asked, her disdain evident.
“Commerce doesn’t stop in war, Madelia. You know that best. Have these demigods not visited your establishments?”
Her mouth tightened. “If I could prevent it, I would. They hurt my girls. When I banned them, they burned down one of my brothels.”
Hades wondered when that had happened. Perhaps when he was in the labyrinth.
“They are certainly powerful,” said Jorn. “Did you see Theseus with the lightning bolt and Zeus just hanging in the sky?” He paused to shake his head. “Are we foolish not to kneel to them?”
“That depends on whose wrath you wish to incur,” said Madelia. “As for me, I’d rather have a pleasant afterlife.”
“How do we know the Underworld hasn’t been conquered too?”
A stark silence followed the question. Hades could feel Persephone rage beside him. Hermes too fisted his hands. Hades stuck out his arm to keep the god from revealing them. As much as he found disfavor with what was being discussed, he was also not surprised. And he wanted to know who was on his side.
Finally, Madelia spoke. “That is ridiculous.”
“I appreciate the vote of confidence, Madelia,” Hades said as he stepped out of the shadow, his gaze sweeping the room. “Since most of you have made it clear that you have no allegiance beyond what serves you, I shall give you a few seconds to choose the side you will take moving forward.”
There was a pause, and then Ptolemeos straightened. “And what are the consequences for not choosing you?”
“There are none,” Hades said. “Save what will befall you if your choice is wrong.”
The old man scowled. “It is just like a god to speak in riddles.”
Hades’s mouth quirked. “Think of it as roulette, Ptolemeos. Are you willing to make the bet?”
“Not when I am staring death in the face,” said the man.
“A wise choice,” said Hades. “As you are all aware, Theseus, with the aid of his father, has taken over New Athens. It is true that he is responsible for the deaths of several gods. The only reason Zeus is still alive is because Theseus hopes to use him as a pawn to gain the favor of our father, Cronos. I do not know his plans beyond that, save that he has some delusional hope that he can rule the entirety of New Greece as its sole god, a feat he cannot accomplish while I still live.”
Though New Athens was now under Poseidon’s control because the landmass was so small, all that managed to do was prevent other gods from teleporting about the city. Hades, however, also had power over land, no matter its size.
“So what are you going to do?” asked Leonidas. “Free Zeus and hope he brings about peace?”
“Why does everyone keep suggesting that?” Hermes muttered.
“It has been a long time since Zeus has brought about peace,” said Hades.
“So you do not mean to free him?” asked Jorn.
“At this moment, my brother is not my priority,” said Hades.
“Then what is your priority?” asked Damianos. “So we are all clear.”
“First, we find a way to give shelter to the innocent,” he said. “But we cannot take people across the sea. Poseidon will sink your ships if you manage to get them on one.”
“Many have fled to temples hoping for protection,” said Ptolemeos. “But rumor has it that Theseus intends to raid them in the morning.”
Hades exchanged a look with Persephone who asked, “Can we shelter here?”
“We could,” said Ilias. “The challenge is getting them here safely, especially without the aid of Dionysus’s tunnels.”
“We are certain they are useless?” Hades asked.
There was a part of him that did not believe it.
“There is a chance a few have drained, but there willbe bodies,” said Ptolemeos.
“And there are no survivors?” Persephone asked.
The old man shook his head. “None who have come forward, though I do not imagine they know where to go given the state of the city.”
“Has anyone heard from Dionysus?” Hades asked. The god was just as involved as he was with the underground and well known among this crowd, but everyone shook their head except Hermes.
“He came to me a few nights ago and asked for my sandals,” said Hermes, hesitating for a moment before he added, “He had some business on an island that belonged to Poseidon. I have not seen or heard from him since.”
Hades suspected there was more to that story Hermes did not wish to share with the group. As much as he hated it, they were going to have to use the tunnels. Maybe along the way, they would find a few survivors.
“I think it is a risk we must take,” said Hades grimly.
“Can we not…teleport them?” Persephone asked.
“If I do, I risk drawing the attention of my brother,” said Hades. “And I do not want any more casualties if I can help it.”
Someone chuckled, and Hades’s looked up to meet Ptolemeos’s gaze.
“What?” the mortal asked. “Does no one else find this ironic? The God of the Dead worrying over life?”
“If you knew him, you wouldn’t find it ironic,” Persephone snapped.
Madelia’s lips twitched, and Hades’s hand tightened on Persephone’s waist.
“So we empty the temples and Theseus has no one to sacrifice tomorrow. What then?” asked Jorn.
“I say we blow them up just as the demigods head inside,” said Leonidas.
“An explosion likely won’t harm them,” said Hermes. “For all we know, they are invincible like us.”
“You don’t seem to be all that invincible anymore,” Damianos pointed out.
Hermes glared. “I’ll show you invincible,” he muttered, crossing his arms over his chest.
“The point isn’t to harm them,” Damianos continued. “It is to catch them off guard. Then you attack.”
Hades didn’t like the idea of more destruction, but he knew it was inevitable. It was the cost of battle among the Divine.
Then Leonidas stood. “You can work out among the gods who will target who, but as far as our involvement, that is what we can offer.”
It was about what Hades expected, but it was enough. Between them, they should be able to empty the temples and get the mortals to safety.
“Fine,” said Hades. “We start now.”
And tomorrow, they would go to battle.
