Chapter 104
No One Saw This Coming
LYRA
Boone holds Persephone in his arms. The goddess of spring is all about renewal. Her idea was to basically give me all her own energy the way Rhea did. She teleported us almost to the surface first. Boone will take us the rest of the way.
That was her big idea.
So I can walk. Mostly. But she can’t, now. The plan is to explain her weakness away as something that happened during the fight with the gods of death.
I think we’re all mentally preparing to put on a show.
I know I am.
Once we tell our story, once we’re reunited with loved ones…then we can all go home and finally rest. Lick our wounds. Process. Grieve. Then figure out what the fuck to do next.
“Ready?” Boone asks.
Persephone and I both nod.
Sound cuts off, but when it cuts back in, it’s not to Hades yelling at his siblings to release me. It’s not to chaos as they all try to reconcile the memories of what happened before and being yanked back to this moment in time. It’s not even to a fight.
It’s to Hades on his knees before the gods of death, Anubis’ crook around his neck.
“Stop!” I cry out, and I try to run, but I can’t move.
Someone or something is holding me still, trapped.
Every god around us, Olympic and otherwise, crouches into a fighting position.
“How did you get out?” Anubis demands of me.
I’m shaking again, this time in fear, my gaze going between him and Hades. This isn’t how this was supposed to happen.
“Cronos…” I stutter and stumble over our story.
Anubis’ canine eyes are narrow slits by the time I’m done talking.
He remembers…me removing his glamour, even if it’s back in place now. We have a story for that, too. But Anubis doesn’t ask. Maybe he’s not sure what to believe.
Has the Egyptian god already come to the same realization we have? That we need to keep the glamours a secret for now. We need to lull whoever fooled the entire world into complacency so we can hunt them down.
“Go check the gates of Tartarus,” he orders Eshu and Hel.
The Norse goddess twitches a shoulder. “I am not your bitch—”
“Fine,” Anubis says. “Someone else.”
“I’ll go,” Yeomra says.
It doesn’t take them nearly as long as it did us. I keep my gaze on Hades, who stares back blankly, not seeing me.
Not seeing the gods return. Not seeing anything.
“It’s locked,” they assure Anubis.
“So…” I glance between him and Hades again. “Everything is all right—”
The jackal-faced god draws his lips back, baring his teeth. “I’m sorry, young goddess, but it is not. Cronos’…selfishness…may have fixed the damage, but we all remember what Hades did.”
“He was holding back. The prophecy was worse—”
“He showed us what he’s capable of and how easy it is to set him off. Power like that cannot remain in the hands of someone who would do those things simply for the sake of a lover.”
Horror only adds to my numbness. My ears are ringing. “What do you mean?” I ask through stiff lips.
Anubis doesn’t answer.
Instead, he gestures to the other gods of death, and they gather around Hades, a hand on each shoulder.
A set of scales materializes in front of Hades, and then a blue light in the form of an orb also appears, pulling out of his chest. It lands on one side of the scales, and then a feather—white and fluffy but slight—appears on the other.
The feather of Maat, the Egyptian goddess of truth and justice.
And I hold my breath as the scales decide.
Only…Hades’ power is heavy, and so is his guilt.
His side of the scale goes down.
“No!” I cry out. “Don’t kill him.”
“Hades,” Anubis pronounces in a voice gone almost mechanical. “You have been judged.”
No. I will my body to move. I will my legs to run to him. To put myself between him and them. To teleport him away.
I look around for Charon. For Cerberus. They would stop this if they were here. Wouldn’t they? But they aren’t here.
This can’t be happening. The gods can’t kill Hades. Not now that we’re finally through this. We fixed it. We fixed it, gods damn it. “Don’t kill him—”
Anubis holds up a hand. “You are hereby stripped of your powers and your immortality. No longer a god but mortal.”
Hades snaps out of his haze, and his head is thrown back on a scream of agony that shakes the very foundations of Olympus, the ground rocking under all our feet.
In a blink, the blue orb on the scales turns as black as death, and the shaking stops. Anubis releases him from the hold of the crook, and Hades collapses on the ground.
Then that black light that was once his power just…fades away.
Leaving silence as still as the grave over everyone gathered to witness. Not a single god or goddess stopped them. None protested.
The gods of death release one another, then, one by one, they disappear back to their own domains until only Anubis is left.
“We can’t be without a god of death.” Zeus, alive once more, finally speaks. He sounds like he’s in as much shock as the rest of them.
He’s right. As Queen of the Underworld, I’m limited without Hades’ power over death.
“Hold a contest,” Anubis declares. “For a new god of death of the Olympic realms. And we will return to grant the winner that power.”
The jackal glances at Persephone and me, then holds out a hand. Hades’ bident manifests in the air before Anubis. He whispers words to it. The bident glows an incredible bright orange, and then there’s a flash of light, and it splits into two.
Two identical bidents.
With another whisper, both weapons fly over to hover before me and Persephone.
“For now,” Anubis says, “your two Queens of the Underworld can manage, with help.”
Persephone and I look at each other as we each take one. Even through the shock and fear, a small spark of hope ignites. Friends, she’s always said, and now I know she was right. Maybe together, we can hold things down long enough.
With that, Anubis is gone, too.
I run to Hades, or the best I can do with jelly for legs. Hades is still unmoving on the ground, and I am so lost.
He’s not dead, his pulse steady under my touch. Thank the gods, the stars, the universe, and all of the Fates that he’s not dead. But he’s mortal now.
He’s mortal, and I am not.
I battle back the despairing panic that threatens to take me under. My mind is flashing from thought to thought. Hades once told me that what he sees in Elysium—the paradise that place would create for him—is him and me together with me as his queen. But does he end up there after a mortal death?
Is that how we end up in Elysium together? Do I follow him there?
No. I can’t let myself think that way. That’s not going to happen.
We can’t take Hades to the Underworld. Not yet. His mortal soul will be trapped down there until I can protect him, either with however he allowed the other champions in the Crucible to visit or with the same kiss he gave me.
“We’ll take him to his rooms in Olympus,” I say.
“No—” The protest comes from Demeter.
I know this because of the way Persephone looks beyond me and pales. Boone must see it, too. He carries her to her mother and sets her in Demeter’s arms. “Stay here with your mother,” he whispers. “Stay here. I won’t be long.”
No one else speaks or protests as Boone takes Hades and me both to our home here, laying Hades on our bed. I crawl up there with him, lying so we’re facing each other.
“I’ll get Asclepius,” Boone says next.
“No.” I stop him. “No one can know that I’m weakened. Leave us here. I’ll recover.”
“And him?” He nods at Hades.
Boone is grim and quiet. Not like his usual self. But I don’t have it in me to deal with that. Not yet.
Hades’ face is only inches from mine. I scoot closer, cupping his cheek with my hand. Do I dare to reverse this, too? I don’t think so. The gods would remember.
“I’ll be here when he wakes up,” I say.
No more tears. No more panic. I have to be strong now. For Hades.
Boone hesitates only a moment before he nods and leaves the room, and I lie here and wait, my gaze on Hades’ face. I peel the glamour away while I do, then trace the lines and angles of his face with my fingertips.
He’s not dead. Neither am I. We will heal. We will figure this out together.
His eyes flutter and open slowly, and I have to bite back a whimper. Because they are no longer silver.
They are…blue.
Not the otherworldly blue of Cronos or Zeus, but a dull gray-blue.
He focuses on my face, and I see the instant the fog of sleep clears and he remembers what just happened.
Then his expression hardens for a beat, and I think I see a hint of silver in the anger that flashes in his eyes before he softens as he takes in my worry.
He reaches out to cup the back of my head, leaning closer to kiss me softly.
“Don’t worry, my star,” he murmurs against my lips. “I have a plan.”