Epilogue
Once again, Hades found himself standing at the Cauldron of Fate. It wasn't a cauldron at all, but a bubbling pool. Still, the name suited the small, circular body of water. In it, time could move forward and back, giving the viewer a preview of what was to come or a closer look at what had already passed.
But Hades wasn't looking at the Cauldron. He stared at the Sisters of the Threads—Clotho the Spinner, Lachesis the Alotter, and Atropos the Inevitable. They were the only gods who could kill humans with impunity. Not that other gods hadn't killed humans. But the time of mass slaughter without consequences was long gone. These days, the Olympians enforced strict laws. Especially about humans. But the Moirai were above most of those laws. If they killed someone, it was their job, and it wasn't really them who did the killing. It was destiny—wink, wink.
No, they didn't abuse their power. Hades doubted they had ever cut the thread of a human not destined to die. That was just his personality painting them in a poor light. As it painted them now. Even though he knew they were trustworthy, at least where he was concerned, he was hesitant to accept their offered insight.
“You want me to do what?!” Hades snarled.
“We don't want you to do anything, Hades,” Clotho said. “We are trying to help you.”
“As we have always helped you,” Atropos said.
“Our continued failure to unmask your enemy troubles us.” Lachesis shrugged.
Hades snorted. “Does it?”
“Do not doubt us,” Clotho said sternly.
Hades grimaced. “You're right. You have stood by me for centuries. Please forgive my rudeness.”
“You are forgiven,” all three goddesses said together.
“But tell me why,” Hades said. “Why this soul? How is she going to help me?”
“We can't tell you that,” Atropos said.
“We've seen how it changes the future if we do,” Lachesis added.
“But she will help you unmask Silas,” Clotho finished.
Hades narrowed his eyes at the goddesses. “I can't pull a soul from the Blessed Isle and randomly give it a body—a fully-matured body.”
“You did it with the Cerberuses,” Atropos said.
“And that tied them to me. Would you have me give this soul a piece of my magic?”
“Do not play games with us, Hades,” Lachesis said. “We know perfectly well what you can do. You are the Lord of the Dead. And those in the Blessed Isles are due rewards for their purity. You don't have to give this soul anything. Just offer her a fresh chance at life in a fully grown body with all of her memories intact. This soul will accept.”
“Why?” Hades asked. “Why would she give up the Blessed Isle to be reborn without the magic of a witch or the benefit of a childhood and a clean memory?”
“Trust us, she will accept your offer,” Lachesis said.
“What exactly am I offering her?”
The women looked at each other and grinned.