The Goddess Legacy: The Goddess Queen\The Lovestruck Goddess\Goddess of the Underworld\God of Thieves\God of Darkness (Harlequin Teen) (27 page)

“We didn’t usurp anything,” said Artemis, bristling. On the
other hand, maybe a catfight would help take our minds off this. “We apprenticed
with them. We didn’t steal their jobs.”

“And yet here we are, with every shred of evidence pointing to
Helios and Selene having faded,” said Hera. “Tell me, do you have any other
explanation?”

Artemis clenched her hands. “I don’t know. Maybe Rhea went
rogue.”

“And decided to kill them instead of us? I highly doubt
it.”

Poseidon cleared his throat. He never spoke up much during
meetings, since we mostly dealt with mortal problems, and the sea was his realm.
But when he did, everyone paid attention. “If Hermes believes they are no longer
present in any of the realms, then we have no reason to question it. His
judgment is as sound as each of ours.”

Across from me, Hades hissed, but he said nothing. Coward. If
he had something to say to me, he should’ve said it to my face.

“Hermes, do you believe they are gone?” said Zeus, and I
nodded. Had to focus on the big picture here. Hades was never going to like me
again no matter what I did—no point in wasting energy trying to win him
over.

“If I can’t find them, then they’re nowhere at all. And the
only explanation is that they’ve faded.”

A hush settled over the council again, and in the throne beside
Ares, Aphrodite dabbed her eyes. “Are we next?”

“No.” Hephaestus set his hand over hers, ignoring Ares’s
glares. “We are simply too important to fade like that.”

“So were Helios and Selene and who knows how many others,” said
Athena. “How can we possibly be sure this isn’t the end of the age of gods?”

“How could it be?” said Hera. “Perhaps some minor gods may be
facing the end, but we are indispensable. Mortals still need us.”

“For how long?” said Athena. “For another century? Millennia?
How long until they have moved beyond us? Whether we want to acknowledge it or
not, we are in danger, and we cannot continue to revel in ignorance. We must
figure out why this is happening. If Helios and Selene are missing, there may be
others, and our best shot is to find out who is gone and discover a common
link.”

“I can help with that,” I said. It would take a while, tracking
down every single god and goddess, but if it meant they would start treating me
like family instead of a fungus, the time and effort had to be worth it. “And
maybe I could go down to the surface as well, see what I can find.”

“Are you sure that is wise?” Hades’s voice seemed to fill the
throne room, even though he was practically whispering. “May I remind the
council what happened the last time Hermes offered his help where it was not
welcome?”

My face grew hot. Who the hell did he think he was, talking to
me like that? “Persephone has nothing to do with this,” I said.

“On the contrary. Perhaps if you had not been so engrossed in
your affair, you would have done your duties and realized Helios’s and Selene’s
absences sooner.”

So we were back to this again. “That was thousands of years
ago,” I said through gritted teeth. “I am not Adonis. She did not die for me.
Get over it already.”

“I will get over it when we are even,” he said, and a rumble of
thunder interrupted my retort.

“Enough,” said Zeus quietly. “Bicker in your own time. Hermes,
we will need to know who is still among us and who else has faded as soon as
possible. But I do not see what mingling with mortals will accomplish.”

“But Athena just said—”

“Let Athena and the others deal with that,” he said. “You have
your orders. Now, for once, do as you are told.”

Yes, I did have my orders: be mindlessly obedient when they
needed me, and when they didn’t, shut up and be invisible, because no one wanted
me there anyway. I’d been in trouble before—who hasn’t?—but this was a whole new
level of punishment. I would’ve taken being banished from Olympus any day over
being pushed out of my family.

But I didn’t protest, because it wouldn’t have changed things
anyway, and I’d need my strength for this job. Social exile was exhausting
enough as it was, and lethargy wasn’t a good look on me.

Zeus handed out a few more jobs, none of which consisted of
going down to the surface and actually talking to mortals to see where we stood,
and the council adjourned. Seconds later, Zeus floated a scroll toward me.
Apparently not even my father wanted to get close enough to touch me.

“A list of every god and goddess we know of,” he said. “If you
value your place on the council, you will have your report to me this time
tomorrow.”

If I— Was he serious? Was he really going to strip me of my
throne if I didn’t get this to him in time?

No, it had to be some kind of mind game. A way to scare me into
submission, nothing more. Zeus had worked far too hard to ensure that the
council was under his thumb, and if he upset the balance by removing me, Hera
would be one vote away from taking the crown.

Then again, maybe he’d use me as an example. Show that anyone
who dared to defy him was one swift kick in the ass away from joining Helios and
Selene in the unknown. Either way, I didn’t have much time.

I uncurled the scroll, and my eyes nearly popped out of my
head. The list was endless. “You want me to find every single person on this
list by tomorrow?”

No reply. I looked up, and Zeus’s throne was empty. Perfect. I
glanced down at the scroll again and scowled. One day. Countless names. And no
one to help me, because the entire council thought I was the plague.

Maybe that’s what Zeus was counting on—I’d fail, and he’d have
a valid reason to remove me from Olympus. And if that were the case, maybe I’d
be better off a drifter anyway. If I didn’t fade completely.

I wouldn’t go down without a fight, though. Not now, not ever,
which meant I had one option in the next twenty-four hours: prove Zeus wrong, no
matter how impossible.

* * *

Usually I didn’t need sleep. I could go weeks, if not
months without it when I wasn’t using my powers—all of us could. But before I
was halfway done with that list, I needed sleep more desperately than I’d ever
needed anything in my entire life.

I leaned against the golden wall of the throne room, struggling
to keep my eyes open. I couldn’t fall asleep. Time was precious enough as it
was, and if Zeus knew I’d been sleeping on the job, too—

Right. I liked my ass right where it was, thank you. I leaned
forward and forced myself to focus on the list of names. Next up was Pollux. Not
too hard to find him and Castor, even though they were on the run, so at least
this wouldn’t take much effort.

“How’re you holding up?” Iris crossed the throne room,
balancing a tray in her hands.

“I’m seriously considering running away and spending the rest
of eternity holed up in the woods,” I said. “What’s that?”

“I brought you some tea. Figured you might need it.”

That was oddly nice of her. Maybe Zeus had laid into her, too.
“Thanks,” I said, stretching. She sat beside me, and I picked up the cup and
sipped. It wasn’t a solid night’s sleep, but it would do. “I mean it, though.
There’s no way I’m finishing this list. Ten hours left, and I’m not even halfway
done.”

She smirked, but there was a hint of sympathy behind it, too.
“When Zeus fires you, make sure to put in a good word for me, would you?”

It would’ve been funny if it hadn’t been so true, and I
glowered into my tea. “Zeus said if I don’t finish in time, I really will be
kicked off the council.”

“Zeus likes to say a lot of things. Most of them aren’t
true.”

“This is, though.” I nudged the list in her direction. “You
didn’t happen to run into any of these gods on your trip, did you?”

She examined the names, and with a wave of her hand, she
crossed off well over two dozen. “I know where to find loads more. If you want,
I can check out a few places. That’ll cut your list down, as well.”

“You’d really do that for me?” I said. “What about wanting my
job?”

Iris shrugged, and a curl escaped from behind her ear. “I’ll
take pity on you just this once. Are you serious about running away?”

I leaned my head against the wall. If it were possible for
immortals to have headaches, I would’ve had a raging one right about now.
“Hermit jokes aside, someone needs to figure out what’s causing all of this.
None of the others have spent time with mortals like I have.”

“And yet Zeus won’t let you go?”

“You know how he is. Can’t handle someone else having a better
grip on things than he does.”

Iris gave me a look. “So while gods and goddesses are
mysteriously dying for reasons the council can’t possibly be sure of, you’re
going to listen to Zeus for the first time in your life.”

“He’d track me down the instant he knew I was gone. You know
that.”

“Unless…” Her fingers danced over the parchment, an inch from
my knee. “Someone kind, generous, thoughtful and extremely beautiful covered for
you.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Do you think someone like that actually
exists?”

She punched me in the arm. “You’re a jerk. Maybe I won’t help
you. Bet I could do your job with both hands tied behind my back.”

“Right now I’m not sure
I
can do my
job, not if Hades keeps acting like this. And not if Zeus keeps giving me
impossible tasks.”

“Hades will come around eventually, and we’ll work together on
this list,” she said. “I’ll go down to the surface and check things out. You
focus on the names I’ve circled, all right? But on one condition—after you
finish this, you’re going to sneak off and mingle with mortals. I’ll cover for
you.”

I glanced down at the list. Somehow she’d narrowed it down to a
manageable number. “Really?”

“Really.” She squeezed my arm. “Some things are more important
than kissing Zeus’s ass.”

Coming from Iris, that meant loads. “If we get through this,
remind me to tell you I love you.”

She snorted, though her cheeks turned pink. “Please. I know you
love me. It practically oozes out of you.” Giving me a pat on the hand, she
stood. “Don’t fall asleep, lazy, else I really will have no choice but to
replace you, bloodlines be damned.”

“Whatever you say,” I said with a tired grin. But the tea
helped, and if she stuck to her word, this might be doable, after all. “And
Iris?”

She stopped, inches from the portal. “Yeah?”

“Thanks. You’re not nearly as heinous as everyone says you
are.”

Rolling her eyes, she stepped into the crystal circle and
grinned. “You really are such a jerk.”

* * *

Together, Iris and I finished the list by the time the
council reconvened. No idea how we managed it—magic, probably, or some sort of
tear in time—but we did.

Six names were unaccounted for. Older gods and goddesses whose
roles had been taken over by newer ones. I’d triple-checked those to make sure,
but it wasn’t good news. Neither of us could find them. I should’ve stayed to
tell the council; someone had to, after all, but by the time we finished, Iris
was practically pushing me toward the portal.

“Go,” she said. “I mean it. I’ll give the list to Zeus.”

“He’ll smite you if he finds out you’re covering for me. Sure
it’s worth it?” I said.

“Yes, I’m sure. Besides, if you figure this out, maybe they’ll
forgive you for the whole Persephone thing.”

I frowned. Right. I didn’t need another reminder, but it was a
possibility. Maybe they
would
forgive me. Maybe this
would be enough to get me back on the council’s good side. Doubtful, but worth a
shot.

Iris sighed dramatically and gave me a little shove. “Why do
you always have to be so difficult? Get your ass down there before I have to
drag you to the balcony and throw you.”

“Fine, fine, I’m going. Be safe, all right? Don’t disappear in
a puff of smoke or whatever.”

“You, too,” she said. “And don’t come back until you’ve figured
this thing out.”

“Which might be never.”

“By then, we’ll all be gone, so it won’t matter.” She stood on
her tiptoes and brushed her lips against my cheek. Unexpected, and my face grew
hot. Iris laughed. “For luck, not to feed your fantasies. Now get out of
here.”

Footsteps sounded from one of the hallways, and I didn’t need
any more encouragement. I hopped onto the portal and gave Iris a halfhearted
wave. This wasn’t one of our better ideas, but we didn’t have much choice. The
gods were dying off. Even if we had several eons before the council faded, that
wasn’t a chance any of us could take. Zeus was an idiot for playing it safe.

I slid through the portal with ease, and in the midst of
dropping to the surface, I closed my eyes and relaxed. The solution had to be
somewhere on the surface. A book, a town, some kind of religious theory—whatever
it was that would bring me closer to understanding why we were dying.

That sort of hazy thought didn’t always work, and when I landed
in the trees, I cursed. I’d expected to wind up in Rome or a library or
something—somewhere with books and knowledge and answers, the kind Athena always
seemed so good at finding. I didn’t have a chance of unearthing anything like
that in the middle of a forest.

But when I started a more focused sweep of the surface,
something twanged in my core, pulling me south. Not the kind of connection I
usually got whenever something I was looking for was within reach—instead, it
was a vague feeling that made me want to kick a tree. Vague wouldn’t solve this
problem. It wouldn’t give me answers. And it sure as hell wouldn’t save my
family.

Not as if I had a lot of leads though, and I needed time to
cool down before I tried again. With Iris helping me with the list, I’d had time
for a short nap, but exhaustion did nothing for my temper. And I’d be no good to
the council pissed off.

I took a deep breath. It wasn’t my fault Hades was acting like
an ass, and it wasn’t my fault Persephone had chosen to give up her immortality.
Everyone liked to pretend it was, but it wasn’t, and I forced that one simple
truth down my own throat. I was a scapegoat. And the only way I could make them
see it was by finding a solution.