A Touch of Chaos (35 page)

“And what about the innocent?” she asked, pulling back to look at him. “The children? Where do they go during this war?”

Hades looked haunted. “I…do not know.”

“We must know, Hades,” she said. “How can we engage in this horror without a plan to keep them safe?”

He hesitated, and she knew the meaning of his silence. In all the battles he had seen, he had never considered it before. After a moment, he brushed a strand of hair from her face, a gentle move that contrasted starkly with their dark conversation.

“Then we will plan,” he said. “And hope Theseus dies before we have to use it.”

Persephone waited until Hades left to rise and shower. She could not shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen, which made sense given everything that had occurred in the last few weeks and knowing what they had planned for the funeral games.

Still, this felt different.
She
felt different.

In the time since Theseus had turned her world upside down, she had become someone else, a person she did not recognize—a person she did not know if she even liked.

This person, the one who wore her skin, was a murderer. It did not matter that she had not intended to kill her mother; it had happened, and she could not decide how to live with the shame of it. Even more unnerving though was the anger that burned beneath that despair, poisoning her blood with a need for vengeance, and she did not think she would rest until she bore witness to Theseus's suffering.

Perhaps this is how gods are truly made
, she thought.

When she was dressed, she left her room and walked down the hall to the queen's suite to collect Sybil. She and Harmonia were still staying in the Underworld. Persephone did not wish for them to return home, not until everything with Theseus and Triad was settled.

She knocked and waited for Sybil to answer, not expecting that when she did, she would look so stricken.

Persephone's heart fell.

“Sybil, what's wrong?” she asked, taking a step forward. “Is Harmonia okay?”

“Oh, Persephone,” Sybil said. Her eyes were red and teary.

“Sybil,” Persephone said again. “What is it?”

The oracle turned her tablet around, and her eyes dropped to the screen. A loud ringing filled her ears as she stared at the words screaming back at her:

Goddess of Spring Accused of Matricide: Helios Tells All

When Hades arrived at the island of Lemnos, Aphrodite did not greet him as usual, though he was not surprised. She was likely organizing and preparing to announce the funeral games. As much as Hades understood Hephaestus's fear for her, he also felt that the games were the best way to lure Theseus into the open. If they succeeded in killing him there, it could easily be attributed to an accident despite the rules. Theseus might be a demigod, but he was slow to heal, and if he happened to be slain with a weapon of his own creation…well, Nemesis would call that karma.

Hades continued over the bridge that connected Hephaestus and Aphrodite's house to the craftsman's forge deep in the belly of a volcano. The last time Hades had visited, he and the God of Fire had discussed weapons. Specifically, Hades had wanted an arsenal of blades laced with venom from the Hydra and something that could cut through the inescapable nets Theseus had
been using to trap and kill gods. He had not expected to find that weapon in the labyrinth in the form of the Nemean lion's claw, but he supposed he could count it as the only good thing to come out of that horrid place.

The problem was he only had one claw, and while there were more in Theseus's maze, they were not worth the terror of retrieving. They would all have to make do with the one.

The steady roar of the ocean brought Hades out of his thoughts. The last time he had been topside, everything had been frozen under layers of ice and snow. Now the sun was out, burning hotly against the bright blue sky. Hades could feel the scorch of Helios's rays. The God of the Sun did not like to be overshadowed or ignored, and the fact that Hades was the reason for the recent snowstorm likely made him even more angry.

Hades wondered if Helios was at all worried about Cronos. He was certain the all-seeing god had witnessed the murder of his mother, and given that he had sided with the Olympians during the Titanomachy, it was likely the God of the Sun was on his father's kill list, and Cronos, with his ability to manipulate and destroy with time, was not a god Helios would see coming.

Hades found reprieve from the heat as he entered Hephaestus's cavernous workshop. It was in its usual state of organized chaos, packed to the brim with inventions and weapons, leaving only the narrowest path through to his forge, which was at the base of a twisting set of stone steps.

As Hades descended, the air grew hotter, warming him from the inside out. When he finally entered the forge, he found Hephaestus standing before a table piled
high with swords. He was holding one and polishing the blade, which had a black tint to the usually bright steel.

Hephaestus looked up when Hades entered.

“Have you forgiven me?” Hades asked.

“I will let you know after the games,” said Hephaestus.

“Fair enough,” said Hades as he approached the table, though as he had said before, they both knew Hephaestus would not let anything happen to Aphrodite.

“Weapons for your mortals,” said the god, nodding toward the table and also to his right where there were piles of spears and arrows and buckets full of gleaming bullets.

“All laced with Hydra venom?” Hades asked.

“As you requested.”

“As I requested,” Hades repeated, though he could not help worrying over arming thousands of mortals with weapons that could wound and kill gods. “Am I making a mistake, Hephaestus?”

“If we cannot have better weapons, then they should at least be equal,” said the god.

“Once they are in the world, there is no getting them back,” said Hades.

“That is true of many things,” said Hephaestus.

“Yes, but few things have such grave consequences,” Hades replied.

In the past, he would not have thought long on the implications, but that was before Persephone. Now, all he could think was that the existence of these weapons was a threat to her safety, and he wanted to eliminate it, but he knew that was impossible. Even if they tried to take the weapons out of circulation, they would end
up being sold on the black market. The same thing had happened after the Great War, and no matter how hard Hades worked, relics still slipped through his fingers.

“If we cannot take the weapons out of circulation, we will have to find another way to combat their effects,” Hephaestus said.

“What do you suggest?”

“For now, I can forge healing arrows from the Golden Fleece,” said Hephaestus, which would mean they could easily be used during battle if any of them were injured. “But it is a finite resource. Once it is gone, it is gone.”

Finite
, Hades thought. He wanted it to be infinite, but he knew that was not possible. The fleece had belonged to Chrysomallos, a winged ram born from the coupling between a mortal woman and Poseidon, and even if they were to attempt to recreate those circumstances—which he never would—it did not mean it would produce another golden ram.

“I have one more request,” said Hades. Withdrawing the lion's claw from his pocket, he handed it to the god. “When I was in the labyrinth, I encountered the Nemean lion. Its claws happened to cut through Theseus's net. I was only able to come away with one, however. Can you forge a blade?”

“I can,” Hephaestus said. “Perhaps two if I can split it.”

“Whatever you can manage,” said Hades.

Hephaestus set the claw aside. “Do you wish to see what I have made for your wife?”

“Of course,” Hades said.

Hephaestus moved across the room toward a table that was covered with a heavy linen cloth. As he pulled it away, he revealed several weapons—bows and
golden-tipped arrows, spears, and a trident—but it was the black armor and gold bident that drew Hades's attention.

The armor was in pieces—a breastplate and armored skirt, engraved with a flourish of gold details the god had likely done by hand. The bident looked as though it had been found in a garden, covered in vines and flowers. It was entirely ornamental.

“Hephaestus,” Hades said, taking the bident in hand. It was light despite the added florals, which were mostly clustered at the base of its prongs. “This is…too beautiful to see battle.”

“If the funeral games go as planned, then perhaps it never will.”

They could only hope.

“Hephaestus!” Aphrodite called.

Her voice echoed with alarm in the cavernous forge, raising the hair on the back of Hades's neck. Her call was followed by a sharp yelp. They both teleported to her instantly, fearing the worst, finding that she had slipped and fallen coming down the steps.

“Hades,” Aphrodite said as she tried to rise to her feet. “You must go—”

Her words were cut off by a cry of pain as she put pressure on her foot. She started to collapse, but Hephaestus caught her and lifted her into his arms.

“You must go to Persephone,” she said as Hephaestus carried her out of the stairwell into his forge. “Everything is ruined. Our plan for the funeral games, it will not work now!”

“I do not understand,” said Hades as Hephaestus set her on one of his tables. Now they could see that her
ankle was swollen and bruised. Hephaestus wrapped his hand around it, and Aphrodite moaned as his magic healed.

When he was finished, she took a breath. “I hate being mortal.”

“You were saying, Aphrodite?” Hades asked, growing impatient.
What about Persephone?

“Helios is claiming he witnessed Persephone murder Demeter,” said Aphrodite. “It is all anyone can talk about, which means not only will the announcement of the funeral games be overshadowed, but our purpose is meaningless. We can hardly point out that Theseus has murdered gods when Persephone has done the same.”

“It is not the same,” Hades snapped.

“Do you think the mortal world will care about details? A god killer is a god killer.”

Hades did not care what the mortal world thought. He cared about Persephone and how this would affect her.

He glanced to his left where the weapons Hephaestus had made for them gleamed and picked up the trident.

“Hades, what are you going to do?” Aphrodite asked, an element of warning in her voice.

“Kill a god,” he answered.

“Do you really think that is the best course of action given everything?”

“Are you really going to ask me that?”

“Do not make it any easier for the world to side with Theseus, Hades,” said Aphrodite. “We still need followers. We still need worship.”

“
You
need worship. I need nothing beyond the fear of death,” he said.

“Do not be selfish, Hades. Think. What does killing Helios accomplish?”

“Vengeance,” said Hades.

“And what does it accomplish for Persephone? Aside from confirming her guilt?”

Hades glared at her.

He hated that she was right almost as much as he hated Helios.

He pointed the trident at her. “Announce the games, Aphrodite. We will take down Theseus, and then I will make Helios pay for every moment my goddess is in distress.”

Then he left in search of Persephone.

Hades found Persephone sitting among shoots of asphodel in the field just beyond the castle garden. She was crying, quiet tears streaking down her cheeks. He sat behind her, his chest to her back, his legs framing her body. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly, but his presence only seemed to make her cry harder.

He did not know what to do except wait, so that was what he did.

Finally, after some time, she grew quiet in his arms and spoke.

“It is not even fair that I should cry when I have taken a life,” she said.

“You did not mean to hurt your mother, Persephone,” said Hades.

“I did not
hurt
her,” she said. “I
killed
her, and now the whole world knows what I truly am.”

“And what is that?” Hades asked.

“A murderer,” she said.

“We are all murderers, Persephone. Me, Hecate, Hermes, Apollo.”

She did not speak.

“Would it ease you to know that her thread was cut?” he asked. “That the Fates decided it was time for her to go?”

“How do you know?”

Hades laced his fingers through hers and held her arms straight out.

“No threads mark your skin,” he said.

She stared at her unmarred skin for a while, as if she expected something to appear any second and prove him wrong. Finally, she let her arms fall and rested her head against his chest.

“Why did they choose her?”

“I cannot speak for them,” he said. “But I imagine it has something to do with her desperate attempts to destroy the destiny they have woven for you.”

She was quiet for a few long moments, and then she turned to face him, sitting on her knees.

“I have ruined everything,” Persephone said.

“You have ruined nothing,” he said. “Helios cannot even prove his claim.”

“I am not talking about Helios,” she said. Her eyes were watering again. “Nothing is the same. Not even us.”

Hades's brows lowered. “What do you mean?”

“I can usually lose myself in you,” she said. “But I don't think even you can chase away this darkness.”

“I'm not trying to chase it away,” Hades said. “I just want to help you live with it.”

“It has changed me. I am not the same, Hades.”

“I do not expect you to be,” he said. “But you are not so different that I do not recognize you.”

“You say that now,” she said. “But there are parts of me that I do not even know. Thoughts I think that are not even mine.”

He studied her for a few moments and then brushed a strand of her hair from her face.

“Except they are yours…aren't they? They are just different and darker?”

She started to cry again. “I do not want to be angry,” she whispered.

“You do not have to be angry forever,” he said. “But it may serve you well right now.”