Chapter 49 #2
Hopefully, seeing how much more of his body is out of the wall will tell me how much progress I’ve made. Then I might even get a rough idea of how many souls it will take to free him completely. Except I don’t have my phone, which means I don’t have a calculator.
My third-grade teacher’s infuriating voice comes back to haunt me.
“You won’t always have a calculator in your pocket.”
I’m sure necromancy soul-math was exactly what Mrs. Thompson had in mind.
Sin leads the way, and we don’t run into a single guard. Everything is going smoothly until once again, we need to cross the pit of nightmares.
Anxiety pierces my gut. I don’t want to see him in agony again.
Sensing where my mind is going, he turns and throws me a ‘don’t even think about it look,’ before I can even suggest he wait for me here.
“Hades, turn your fucking pit off. It’s us,” Sin calls, and then strides into the space.
He walks with fearless confidence, whereas my steps are decidedly less so. I keep my eyes glued to him, nervously watching for any sign of Hades’ booby trap.
Of course, the moment we reach the center of the room, Sin screams in agony. He collapses backward, and I barely break his fall, because the man is built like a fucking rock.
He starts begging invisible nightmares to take him instead, to take everything, so long as she goes free.
I start yelling cusses at Hades to try and drown out the intimate details of whatever haunts Sin. At the same time, I grab his arm and painstakingly drag him to the marked door.
By the time we make it to the goblets, my powerful Destroyer looks like he’s been put through the wringer. His eyes are bloodshot, dried blood is caked all over his face and clothes, and yet he still reaches for the drink without complaint.
The resigned look on his face is the only hint that he isn’t looking forward to more pain and having his powers temporarily stripped away.
I place my hand on his, stopping him.
“No. Hades, open the damned door!” I yell into the small space.
Nothing happens.
“It’s okay, I’ll drink it again,” Sin says, his tone soothing.
Rage wells up within me at the thought of him getting more hurt than he already is. Before I’ve even registered what I’m doing, I spin toward the locked door. Searing pain rips through my body as I release a blast of the volatile power.
The door explodes.
“Door’s open,” I note with a small smile.
Crackling bolts of violet energy snap against my skin, and it feels like someone is cooking my insides. But at least the pain is hitting me and not Sin.
Worth it.
I wobble on my feet, and Sin is there in a heartbeat to steady me.
“Maybe I should change your nickname to little nuke,” he notes with a teasing smile, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
Still, his scent and warmth ground me as I remind myself that he’s safe. The violet storm clinging to my skin slowly retracts.
“You do know that in order to complete your grand entrance, you actually need to enter?” Hades drawls from the next room.
Sin and I share a look, and then step inside to visit the god.
Hades is still very much encased in the stone wall. The only difference is that his shoulders are now free as well.
“Still a wallflower?” I ask by way of a greeting. For some reason, my usual social anxiety doesn’t show up around Hades. There’s a sense of familiarity between us. I assume it’s because we’re connected by my Reaper power.
His ice-blue eyes twinkle as he laughs, until he does a double-take. His grin drops.
“Who in the realms desecrated your soul?” He roars, glaring at Sin. “If you did this, there will be no place in the universe that you can hide. I take care of my own.”
Sin immediately growls at the accusation. “It wasn’t my doing.”
The god turns back to me, looking both shocked and appalled. “How are you even standing? I’ve never seen a soul so damaged.”
The hollow void in my chest pinches, and I try not to groan at being reminded it’s there. Not having a better answer, I shrug. “I do yoga. Highly recommend.”
Hades stares at me, still looking gobsmacked, when I’m struck with a brilliant idea. If I blasted the door without apocalyptic consequences, then maybe I can do it again.
I take a measured (shaky) breath and try to pull at the smallest amount of power from the two wells inside of me. The powers fuse, sparks snapping over my skin.
“Don’t!” Hades yells, his panicked shout filling the room.
He isn’t fast enough. A small bolt of purple energy snaps at the wall next to him.
Nothing happens.
My shoulders slump, but this time, the energy continues to build. It feels like fire is spreading through my organs, searing my lungs. I try to breathe, to return it to a dormant state, but it doesn’t respond. My panic rises until a warm presence presses against my back.
“I am very invested in seeing you do yoga,” Sin whispers against my ear, and his fingers trace a teasing path over the column of my neck.
I shiver, and my focus shifts, now trying not to be aroused in front of the God of the Dead. The violent power inside of me quiets.
“Please do not, under any circumstances, use your combined energies in my realm – ever again,” Hades urges, panic still lacing his tone.
“Why?” I ask, genuinely confused.
The last time we were here, Hades seemed excited about what I could do once I got rid of my Keeper bond. He was convinced that I would be a badass when both the Creator and Reaper powers were fully rooted within me.
This visit is taking an extra disappointing turn.
The look Hades gives me is a cross between fear and pity, and my stomach twists.
“That was before you had a dangerously unstable soul,” he explains.
“Yes, we already know she is going to start to decay until she dies. But that isn’t going to happen, because she is going to take a piece of my soul, and we are going to fix the damage,” Sin growls back, and the room is cast in a faint red glow.
My soul is a bit of a touchy subject for him.
Not needing to have this conversation again, I quickly exclaim, “Well, we just wanted to check if you were done with your rock era, but clearly you aren’t, so we’ll be going now.” I turn on my heel, all but dashing for the door.
I only make it a single step before Hades’ voice stops me short. “You’re wrong.”
A tiny spark of hope lights inside of me, and I turn to face him once more. His expression is hard.
The hope fizzles out.
“You’re not simply going to lose yourself. All broken souls share one characteristic: as they decay, they become violent,” he warns.
A wave of fear washes over me, and my mind immediately rebels.
I’ve spent enough time being afraid.
“Can’t I just fix my own soul?” I ask, suddenly having another stroke of genius.
I’m pretty sure you can’t bring back the dead with Creator power; otherwise, Leon would have brought back Cassandra. But since I have Reaper powers as well, maybe souls are a loophole?
Hades’ eyes soften. “I’m afraid not. Souls are beyond the scope of Creators, and while you may be a Reaper, you cannot heal the souls of the living.”
Disappointment has tears gathering at the corners of my eyes. “This all seems like an ‘after the war’ problem,” I choke out, wondering if I can make it to the door before this conversation continues.
“How long before the decay begins?” Sin asks. His tone is strained, and he takes my hand, likely sensing my desire to bolt.
If people could let me ignore my problems like an adult, that would be great.
“It already has,” Hades answers with a pointed look my way. “And the longer you wait, the more of Sin’s soul will be required to ensure you’re no longer dangerously unstable.”
My hands fist at my sides from hearing yet another person suggest that Sin should shatter his soul. “What will happen if I don’t fix it?”
Hades pales, which is saying something, considering his skin tone is ‘translucent.’
“You’ll become as violent as the Forsaken spirits. But you’ll hold enough power to end us all.”
His eyes snap back to Sin’s. “Either fix her or put her down. Immediately.”