Hades appeared in his office at Nevernight.
Only one thing had gone to plan during the entire battle, and that had been their exit.
“What was that?” Persephone whispered.
He knew what she was asking based on the raw rasp of her voice. She was still trembling from the horror of Cronos’s magic, and he could not blame her. He was too.
“Cronos can make our greatest fears reality,” he said. “Where do you think I got the ability?”
He hated sharing anything with his father, but what he hated most was that he had used that power on Persephone once before.
They were not alone long when the doors to his office opened and Harmonia, Sybil, and Aphrodite raced into the room.
“I thought I sensed your return,” said Harmonia. “Thank the Fates!”
They do not deserve your thanks, Hades thought as Harmonia crossed the room to embrace Persephone, followed by Sybil.
Aphrodite lingered behind, her eyes wide. He knew by her expression that something was wrong.
“My powers are back,” she said.
It was something she should be excited about or at the very least relieved, except that Hades felt like he understood her shock because in this instance, it meant that Zeus was dead.
Hecate’s magic filled the room, signaling her return. She appeared with Artemis and Hephaestus, though the God of Fire was clearly injured. He was on his knees. One hand was flat on the ground, the other clutching his chest and covered in blood.
Aphrodite paled and ran to him. Kneeling at his side, she placed her hand over his as if she could somehow stop the bleeding.
“I’m fine,” said the god, rising to his feet. He summoned a golden arrow and, without a second of hesitation, shoved it into his chest.
“What are you doing?” Aphrodite demanded, but then the arrow vanished and so did his wound.
Aphrodite looked on in wonder, her fingers brushing over his skin.
“I asked Hephaestus to turn the Golden Fleece into something we could use on the battlefield,” said Hades. “Arrows seemed like the best option. If we are wounded by Theseus’s weapons, we can be healed from a distance.”
“Woo-hoo!” Hermes said, appearing suddenly. “My powers are back!”
His enthusiasm seemed to dim as he realized exactly what that meant. He looked at Aphrodite.
“Our powers are back,” he said, quieter this time. He looked at Hades. “So…Zeus is dead?”
Hades hesitated. He was just as much in the dark as everyone else, but then Hecate spoke.
“I killed Zeus,” she said.
They all looked at her. Even Hades was a little stunned.
“You only ever mentioned saving him,” she said, half shrugging. “But the death of Zeus is the death of his magic. Theseus has no lightning bolt. Aphrodite and Hermes have their powers back…and I have a new heart.”
Hades supposed that was fair enough, though he genuinely had not expected Hecate to make the decision.
“Did you just say you have a new heart?” Hades asked.
“I did,” she said, a small smile on her face, adding, “Everyone knows not to kill a god before harvesting their organs.”
There was a beat of silence, and then Hermes spoke. “Everyone, keep Hecate away from my dead body.”
“Don’t worry, Hermes. I would never think of it,” she said.
“Well, that’s comforting—”
“I only harvest quality organs.”
“Hey!” Hermes put his hands on his hips. “I’m quality!”
The Goddess of Witchcraft looked him up and down and then shrugged. “Eh.”
“Don’t ‘eh’ me! You just called Zeus’s heart quality!”
Hades was about to teleport to the Underworld to escape the two when he felt Athena’s magic. It pressed on his own—a request to teleport into his territory, one he granted.
When the Goddess of Wisdom appeared, she was dressed in gold robes. He had not seen her since she’d refused to fight outside Thebes. Battle, she had said, should serve a purpose beyond bloodshed, and though he would have welcomed her help, he could not blame her for refusing. He knew the cost of war, and it was a high price to pay if the fight meant nothing to you.
“Hades,” she said.
“Athena,” he said.
She raised her head, proud.
“My priestesses were slaughtered this morning. They begged for me, and I could not save them. I would join your side and fight against the evil that prevented me from protecting my own.”
“It would be foolish of me to refuse,” Hades said.
Athena seemed to relax, head lowering and shoulders falling. Then she took a step forward.
“You must tell me everything about this enemy,” she said.
Hades glanced at Hecate, Artemis, and Hephaestus. While there was an element of urgency, they were also exhausted.
“We will rest,” he said, looking down at Persephone. “Then reconvene.”
“Are you really going to rest?” Hermes asked, suspicious. “Or are you just saying that so you can sneak away and fuck?”
“Do you ever just…not say exactly what you are thinking?” Persephone asked.
“Curious minds want to know,” the god argued.
“I think you mean depraved,” said Artemis.
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
Hades did not wait to say goodbye. He drew Persephone near and teleported to the baths. He wanted to be alone with her, to purge the horror they had witnessed on the battlefield.
Her back was to him, and he touched her shoulder. The shadows of her armor peeled away from her body, leaving her bare, and he bent to press a kiss to the hollow of her neck. She shivered and then turned to face him. Then she slipped her arms around his waist and held him tight, her head resting against his chest.
“I heard your heart stop beating,” she said.
He held her tighter.
“So long as you live, it will never cease,” he said.
“You cannot know that,” she said. “Do not promise it.”
“I would like to believe it all the same,” he said.
Hades was content to hold her, given the horror he had witnessed in his own vision. In it, Persephone had been torn to pieces before him. Just as she had thought she would never hear his heart beat again, he had thought he would never hold her again.
“It was strange. The entire time, I had the sense that I had seen it all before…when you trained me…yet it was still different,” she said.
Guilt blossomed in his chest from the memory of that day. He had manifested her greatest fear, which turned out to be his death, but he had not prepared her.
That was cruel, she had said, and she had been right. As much as he had wanted to prepare her for the cruelty of gods, it was not fair to her.
“But that was how I knew it wasn’t real.”
She pulled away, and their eyes met. She pressed her hand to his chest, and his armor turned to shadows and fled from the light, leaving him naked.
Her eyes fell to his cock. He wanted her to touch him, but she didn’t.
“Is this selfish?” she asked.
“Does it feel selfish?”
“Yes.”
He studied her and touched her cheek. “Then you are not aroused enough,” he said, and as their mouths came together, their bodies did too.
When Hades woke, he was alone.
He rose and went in search of Persephone. He found her standing outside the palace with Cerberus by her side. He was still three-headed and dwarfed Persephone with his size. Hades approached her and slipped his arms around her waist. She relaxed against him, her hands folding over his.
“Can your monsters rise from the dead?” Persephone asked.
“Cerberus is not dead, but yes,” Hades said. “Now that the sun is no longer in the sky.”
He felt her freeze for a moment. “That was not a dream? Has Helios truly fallen?”
“Yes.”
She turned to face him. “Then…I truly killed that demigod?”
Hades studied her for a moment and then took her hand. As he did, a single black thread surfaced.
“What will the Fates do?”
“It is hard to say in times of battle,” said Hades. “It depends on who they favor.”
“How do we know if they favor us?”
“We will know if we win.”
They were not comforting words, but they were true.
“Come,” he said. “We will meet with the gods.”
They returned to his office at Nevernight, and Hades was surprised to find Ares waiting with the other gods. Beside him, he felt Persephone reach for her magic.
He could not blame her. The God of War’s presence was immediately suspicious.
Hades’s gaze slid to Aphrodite, who stood beside Ares.
“Aphrodite,” Hades said. “Give me one good reason for Ares’s presence within my realm.”
“I have come to join your fight, Rich One.”
Hermes laughed. “It’s because he wants to be on the winning side.”
Ares glared at the God of Mischief, though if not for Aphrodite, Ares would have likely waited until he was certain his choice would win.
“It sounds to me like you are asking for a favor, Ares,” said Hades. “And if that is the case, I will require one in return.”
The god straightened. “A favor in exchange for my battle prowess?”
“Do you mean your bloodlust?” asked Athena.
“Need I remind you that no one asked for you at all?” said Hades.
Hermes inhaled between his teeth. “Oh, you must be in pain after that burn.”
“I will show you pain, Hermes,” Ares threatened.
“Is that a promise, battle daddy?”
Hades sighed. “I am surrounded by idiots.”
“Like attracts like,” said Hecate.
“You take the offer, Ares, or you do not fight on the side of the gods,” said Hades. “That is the deal.”
There was a moment of silence, and then Ares crossed his arms over his chest. “Fine.”
Now that that was done, Hades’s gaze shifted to the rest of the gods.
“We cannot allow ourselves to be taken by surprise again,” said Hades.
“Then we should attack first,” said Aphrodite. “Take Theseus by surprise.”
“Surprise is not as important as terrain,” said Athena. “And Theseus has the advantage. He has the higher ground, and he is behind a wall.”
“Then we take down the wall,” said Hermes.
“And how do you propose we do that?” Aphrodite asked.
“I don’t know, explosives?” he said.
“Sure,” said Athena. “If you manage to battle your way through the army Theseus puts in front of it, then you can use explosives.”
“Well, if you’re so smart,” said Hermes, “what should we do then?”
Athena shrugged a shoulder. “I would offer them something they cannot refuse—a weapon so deadly, they cannot help but open the gate.”
“And what would that be?” Aphrodite asked. “Theseus already has weapons that can kill the gods.”
“It sounds like you are talking about the Trojan Horse,” said Hermes. “You do know that’s been done, right? They’ll see it coming from a mile away. Literally!”
“Not the Trojan Horse. A Trojan horse,” said Athena.
“I don’t get it,” said Hermes. “You said the same thing.”
“She is saying we need a diversion, Hermes,” said Hades.
“I have Zeus’s balls in a jar,” said Hecate.
Everyone looked at the goddess.
“Okay, that is definitely distracting,” said Hermes, adding under this breath, “and disturbing.”
“They can be a powerful weapon,” Hecate said. “It just depends on what is born from them.”
“I think we’re all aware,” said Hermes. “Do we really want to play chance with Zeus’s balls? I mean, what if we get another Ares?” His mouth twisted in disgust.
“Fuck you, Hermes,” said Ares.
“It’s a valid concern!”
“I think if we are going to offer something to entice Theseus to open his gates, we should know what it is,” said Athena.
Hades had an idea, but no one was going to like it.
“What about surrender?”
“You cannot be serious,” said Aphrodite.
“As the dead,” he replied.
“You keep using that joke, and it’s not even funny,” said Hermes.
Hades ignored him. “Theseus would open the gates if he thought I was surrendering.”
“No,” said Persephone. “He would kill you the moment you stepped over his threshold.”
“He will want to gloat before he does that,” said Hades. “It is a valid plan. I will go tonight and offer an alliance. By the time you arrive at his gates, I will have them open.”
“And if you don’t?” Persephone asked. He could feel her fear and her fury. “What do we do then?”
“You fight until they open,” he said.
“That all sounds well and good,” said Hephaestus. “But what about Cronos? The Titan can manipulate our world, make us see things that are not there.”
“He will have to be distracted so he cannot use his power again,” said Hecate.
“I can manage that,” said Ares.
“You cannot,” said Hephaestus.
Hermes snickered.
“Are you trying to challenge me, metal leg?” asked Ares.
“Shut up, Ares,” Aphrodite snapped.
“I am warning you,” Hephaestus said. “You do not know Cronos’s capabilities because you were not there today.”
There was a beat of silence, and then Persephone spoke. “What about Prometheus?”
“He would certainly distract Cronos,” said Hades. “There is no love between the two.”
“Will he join our side?”
“He will not exactly join our side,” said Hecate. “But he will help if mortals are under threat. We will not have to ask him for that. He will just appear as he did today.”
Prometheus was the creator of man, and he had sacrificed a lot to see them thrive—namely his quality of life.
“I hope you aren’t wrong,” said Ares.
“I am never wrong, Ares,” she said.
“Hmm, debatable,” Hermes said.
Hecate elbowed him in the ribs.
“Ouch!” he cried. “Motherfucker!”
With their plans set, the gods dispersed. Hephaestus, Aphrodite, and Ares left to arm the mortals who had agreed to fight tomorrow. Hades had hoped Persephone would stay behind so they could talk about his decision to surrender to Theseus, but she left his office with Hermes in tow.
He knew she was upset but also scared. With Cronos’s reality fresh on her mind, all she could think about was the possibility of his death, and he could not blame her. It was the same for him.
“Are you well, Hades?” Hecate asked.
She had yet to return to her duties—whatever they were. Harvesting organs, apparently.
He took a breath and then stood. “I think I need fresh air,” he said.
“I will join you,” she said.
Together they made their way to the floor of Nevernight and stepped just outside the entrance.
Hades stared up at the sky.
“I have never known you to stargaze,” said Hecate.
“I am not,” said Hades. “I am looking at what isn’t there. The ophiotaurus has not returned to the sky.”
Hecate looked. “Hmm. You are right. Pity.”
Hades’s gaze fell to her. “I know that voice.”
“Of course you do,” she said. “It is mine.”
“I mean, I can tell you are disappointed,” he said. “What did I do? What did I miss?”
“I am not disappointed,” she said. “But your creativity is lacking.”
“I admit I am only creative in one area of my life,” he said.
She snorted. “That is because nothing else interests you.”
“You are not wrong.”
“Tell me the prophecy, Hades.”
He had thought of it so often over the last month, he knew it by heart.
“If a person slays the ophiotaurus and burns its entrails, then victory is assured against the gods.”
“Victory,” she said. “What is victory, Hades?”
“Victory is winning,” he said.
“Very good,” she said, and though Hades glared, she continued. “And what can you win?”
“A battle,” Hades said. “A war.”
It was the obvious first choice.
“You are almost there,” she said.
He stared at her for a moment and then answered, “A game.”
“And there it is,” she said.
“You are saying I can fulfill the prophecy by losing a game to Theseus?”
“I am saying that he has won a lot of battles against the gods, and still the ophiotaurus remains absent. Is it not worth a try?”
Hades supposed anything was worth a try.
“I do not just want to sabotage his future,” Hades said. “I want him dead.”
“Ah yes. Too bad he is invincible.”
“You know you are not helping.”
She shrugged. “Aphrodite was right. Even Achilles had a weakness. You already know Theseus’s.”
He did, although it was obvious for anyone to see. The demigod was arrogant.
It is not hubris if it is true, he had told Hades, though his comment was just another example of his excessive pride.
Hades was determined that it would be his downfall.
There was silence for a moment, and in the quiet, Hades thought he could hear the shuffling of feet. He turned to look down the street, and his heart seized when he met Dionysus’s gaze. The God of the Vine had returned. He looked exhausted, angry, and devastated. Beside him was a woman Hades did not recognize, but he guessed she must be Medusa.
“Dionysus,” Hades said, turning to face the god.
“My maenads,” Dionysus said and stopped.
“I know,” Hades said. “Come.”
He led Dionysus and Medusa inside to Hecate’s infirmary. When he pulled the curtain back, he was surprised to see Naia awake, propped up with pillows. She looked pale, and there was a cloudiness to her gaze that Hades attributed to her grief.
When she saw Dionysus, she burst into tears. He went to her and knelt beside her, taking her into his arms.
“He has Ariadne, Dionysus,” she wailed. “He took her and her sister and the baby. There was nothing we could do.”
“Shh,” Dionysus soothed. “You did everything you could, Naia. Everything.”
Hecate took Medusa away, and Hades left the two to reunite and grieve together.
Hades was surprised when he found Persephone standing with Artemis, though as he approached, the Goddess of the Hunt departed. Hades watched her go before turning his attention to his wife.
“What was that?” he asked.
“A truce,” she said. “Did I hear correctly? Dionysus has returned?”
He nodded. “Naia is also awake. She says Ariadne, her sister, and the baby were taken by Theseus and the other demigods, which means they are likely behind the wall of Theseus’s fortress.”
Persephone paled. It was evident that breeching the wall would be an important element to winning this war, but now it was necessary to rescue the three.
“I know you are angry with me,” he said.
“I am not angry,” she said. “But it is hard to think of you walking into Theseus’s territory. It is like the labyrinth all over again.”
“If I felt there was another way, I would take it,” he said.
“I know,” she said.
There was a quiet pause, and then Hades spoke. “I wish to show you something, but I do not know if you are ready to return to the arsenal.”
She shivered as she took a deep breath. “I suppose that depends on what you wish to show me,” she answered. “Is it a memory that will overshadow what happened there before?”
“I’m not sure anything can do that,” said Hades. He pressed his forehead to hers. “There is no wrong answer here, Persephone.”
“I will go,” she said. “If I cannot face what I have done, do I really deserve to heal?”
Hades tilted her head back. “Everyone deserves to heal, if not in life, then in death. It is the only way the world evolves when souls are reborn.” He paused. “If it is too much, you will tell me?”
She nodded, and then he cradled her in his magic and took her to the Underworld.
He did not appear inside the arsenal, hoping that entering it from the hallway would prove to be far less overwhelming. He pressed his hand to the pad beside the door, and it opened.
“You repaired it,” said Persephone, standing at the threshold.
“Yes,” he said. He had done so when he had brought Hephaestus’s weapons to the Underworld.
He watched her as her eyes scanned the room, halting when she spotted the armor at the center. Without a word, she left his side and went to it. He had displayed it beside his own, a smaller version of what he wore on the battlefield—layers of black metal, embellished with gold. Elaborate details decorated the breastplate. She traced the design with her fingertips.
“It is beautiful,” she said and then met his gaze. “Thank you.”
“I have something else for you,” he said and produced the bident Hephaestus had made for her.
It had been his weapon for centuries, a symbol of his rule over the Underworld, and now she would have one too.
“Hades,” Persephone whispered, wrapping her fingers around the handle. “I…but I don’t know how to use it.”
“I will teach you,” he said. “It is not for this battle.”
She met his gaze. “Not for this battle but for others?”
“If we have lifetimes ahead of us,” he said, “there is sure to be another.”
“When I think of our future, I do not want to think of war,” she said.
“What do you want to think of then?” he asked, tilting her head back.
“I would like to think of all the things we will celebrate with our people and our friends,” she said. “Endless ascensions, the opening of Halcyon, your first birthday.”
“My first birthday?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said. “You’ve never celebrated, have you?”
“I don’t exactly know when I was born,” he said. “Even if I did, it isn’t a day I would wish to celebrate.”
“That is why I have chosen a new day of birth for you,” she said.
“Oh? And what day is that?”
“November first,” she said.
He stared down at her, curious. “What made you think of this?”
“Other than you, it was the only good thing that came out of the labyrinth.”
