The Goddess Test Boxed Set

by Aimee Carter

  Without breaking his stare, Hades picked up one of the remaining pebbles and cradled it in his palm. I held my breath, and at last the stone burst into flame, an unexpected light in the dark. The Underworld. Of course Hades would sacrifice himself for our brother’s happiness.

  Before anyone could react, I snatched the third pebble from Zeus’s hand, closing my fist around it. “I will rule the skies,” I said. “When you are ready and have proven yourself worthy of kingship, then you may have this stone back.”

  “Hera—” started Demeter, but Zeus interrupted her.

  “Is that what you want? Further anarchy and pain for humanity?” He drew himself up to his full height, thunder rumbling around him. In that moment, a flash of our father appeared on his face, and I took a step back. “You condemn us to another war if you insist on not allowing me my rightful place.”

  “Why is it your rightful place and not mine? Because of my sex?” I spat, sounding far more courageous than I felt in the face of my brother’s crackling power. Though mine easily rivaled his, it was quiet, understated, the sort you didn’t know was there until it was too late. I could never display my power in such an intimidating manner.

  “Yes,” said Zeus without preamble. “Because you had the misfortune of being made in our mother’s image, and our mother chose to defer to our father. Because that is the example the Titans set for not only us, but for the world, and we must maintain some order. You will be a queen if you wish, Hera, but only second to one of us.”

  No one challenged him. No one spoke to support me. And as those eternal seconds passed, hatred unlike anything I had ever felt before burned within me. Not even for Cronus had I felt such disgust. “I will prove you wrong someday,” I snarled. “And when that day comes, you will be cast out and fed to the wolves. Do not say I did not warn you.”

  Turning on my heel, I stormed off toward the center of the island. It would be a beautiful place to live if not for the scar of healing earth that led straight into the Underworld, where Cronus and the other Titans now resided. Perhaps it wasn’t such a terrible thing that Hades had given up Olympus, after all. At least he could be trusted not to let Cronus escape from the depths of Tartarus.

  “Hera!” called Zeus. “Don’t be that way.”

  I ignored him. If he didn’t want me there, then I wouldn’t be there. But soon enough I heard footsteps behind me, and as they grew closer, I stopped and whirled around. “Can’t you take a—”

  I stopped. It was Hades, not Zeus, who followed me. In the darkness, he looked far too much like our father for my comfort, but we were all used to it by now. He could change his form, as the rest of us could, but I had no doubt he would keep his natural appearance, determined not to let Cronus dictate who and what he was.

  “I am sorry for Zeus,” said Hades quietly. “You do not deserve to be spoken to in such a manner.”

  I swallowed and held my head high. I wouldn’t let Zeus get to me. He wasn’t worth it. “I won’t be anyone’s second. I’m better than that. We all are.”

  He managed a faint smile. “You could never be anyone’s second, because that would imply someone was more deserving than you. Never doubt that you are the reason we have won, Hera. You are our true power, and we all know it. It is simply difficult for some of us to acknowledge our own lacking.”

  A pause, and I deflated. “He’ll ruin us.”

  “Maybe,” he allowed. “Maybe not. Time will tell.”

  “I won’t rule at his side.”

  “I do not blame you.” He touched my shoulder. “You deserve better than how he would treat you.”

  Something tingled down my spine, and his hand felt warm and heavy against my skin. “I could go into the Underworld with you,” I said. “You will need someone to help you sort through the souls.”

  For a split second, his understanding smile changed to one of pity, and I bristled. But before I could react, he said kindly, “Nothing would please me more. As much as I would enjoy your company, however, the Underworld would not suit you. I am fine with the darkness and the quiet, but you, sister, would wither without light. And I cannot do that to you.”

  “You don’t know that for sure,” I said. “It would be worth the isolation if I didn’t have to be near Zeus.”

  He chuckled softly. “As I said, I do not blame you. But something better will come along, and in the meantime, you will have an equal voice on this council.”

  “What if that isn’t enough? What if Zeus still finds a way to take over?”

  “Then we will deal with that as it happens,” said Hades. “I am on your side.”

  At least someone was. “You’re sure I can’t come with you?”

  He pressed his lips to my forehead. “I would never forgive myself for what that place would do to you. But I will come visit you often, and I promise you will never be alone.”

  His words warmed me from the inside out, quelling the last of my frustration. “Why do you have to be so good, Hades? Why can’t you be more like Poseidon and Zeus? It’d be easier to insist the lot of you weren’t fit to rule.”

  He squeezed my shoulder. “Because if I were, we would be warring amongst ourselves, and we all know what would happen then. Go back to Olympus, Hera. Rest. I will see you soon, and in the meantime, try not to let Zeus get to you. He’s overwhelmed with victory and relief, and that does strange things to men.”

  “He’s not a man,” I said. “He’s a god.”

  “Then we can expect this to last much longer than it otherwise would.” He embraced me for a brief moment before letting me go. “Do not forget your worth.”

  With that, he turned and walked toward the sealed crack in the earth, his footsteps leaving no trace in the dirt. I watched him disappear until darkness consumed him, and once he was gone, I took a shaky breath and returned to the others. I would never follow Zeus, but as long as Hades was there to introduce reason, perhaps this new life wouldn’t be so bad, after all.

  * * *

  Sometime in the night, a sharp rap of knuckle against the wall of my Olympus bedroom startled me awake. While normally we did not need to sleep, after exerting our powers as we all had during the final battle, we required rest. Which only made the knock more confusing.

  “Come in,” I called, sitting up in bed and smoothing my hair. I was exhausted, my body heavy with sleep, but it was hard to shake the sensation of being on edge, as I had been during the past ten years. A knock then could’ve meant another battle or a turn we hadn’t seen coming. We’d devoted every moment to strategizing and watching, and none of us had gotten a proper amount of rest.

  The curtains parted, and Zeus stepped through. My stomach turned. Olympus hovered eternally between the blue sky of day above us and the rainbow of dusk below, but even with the golden sunlight that washed across his face, he looked pale. As he should have. If there was any justice in the world, he felt guilty for how he’d treated me and our sisters.

  “Hera?” he said softly. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”

  “Since when have you ever been concerned with courtesy?” I curled back up in bed and closed my eyes. “Be quick about it. I was having a nice dream.” One that involved dark hair, silver eyes and a lack of sunlight Olympus would never experience.

  Zeus said nothing for nearly a minute. By the time he finally spoke, I’d drifted back to the edge of sleep. “I love you.”

  My eyes flew open. “Excuse me?”

  “I have for a very long time.” He stepped closer
, reaching out for me as if he expected me to take his hand, but I didn’t move. Zeus hesitated. “You are extraordinary, Hera. You are beautiful. You are powerful. And out of all my sisters, I think you would be best suited to stand at my side.”

  I shook my head. “You have enough women to keep you company, Zeus. I won’t be another horse in your stable.”

  “You wouldn’t be. I would devote myself to you and your power. To you and your brilliance. I will forsake the others if you insist I must, but I want to marry you.”

  For a long moment, I was silent. Any lingering exhaustion I’d felt had vanished, leaving me with bewilderment coursing through my veins. He wanted to marry me? He could barely speak to me as an equal, and he wanted me to devote my life to him? “No.”

  Zeus recoiled as if I’d slapped him. “What?”

  “I said no.”

  “But—I’m King of the Skies,” he said, stunned. Clearly he hadn’t expected anything short of a yes. “You could be my queen. You could have absolute power—”

  “I don’t want to be your queen,” I snapped. “And we both know that your definition of ‘absolute power’ is really absolute power second to yours. I won’t be second to anyone, and I will not marry someone who looks down on me for my sex. Now leave.”

  Silence. Zeus gaped at me, and I stared back. He wouldn’t win this one. I would not allow him to put a collar on me and parade me around as an ornament. I was the daughter of Cronus. I should have been a queen, but not his queen. A queen in my own right.

  At last he left without a word. It wouldn’t be the end of it—when Zeus set his mind to something, nothing would dissuade him, as the Titan War had proven—but for now, I needed to rest. We’d only just seen the end of one battle. I wasn’t prepared to start another.

  * * *

  On the morning the council gathered for the first time, I spent ages in front of my mirror, searching for any flaws in my reflection. It’d been nearly a month since the end of the war, giving us all time to assess the damage and do what we could to heal it. While our brothers tried to form some semblance of order within their new domains, my sisters and I had roamed the earth, observing humanity and discovering the natural passages between the three realms. Every time we’d found a cave that led into the Underworld, I’d been tempted to go down and visit Hades, but my sisters had insisted he’d be far too busy. I wasn’t so sure, but the last thing I wanted to do was burden him further.

  Technically Zeus should have come with us, but I suspected part of the reason my sisters had dragged me out of Olympus was to get away from him. He and I had barely spoken a word to each other since his proposal, and for all intents and purposes, he seemed to have dropped it. Unlikely as it was, perhaps he wasn’t as thickheaded as I’d thought.

  At last, as the weeks had passed, I’d begun to feel at peace with everything. I didn’t have to have a title in order to have power. I was who I was; no one, not Cronus, not Zeus, could take that from me.

  But now that we were all to gather again, I couldn’t shake the giddiness inside me. Maybe it was the idea of our family once again reuniting. We were never as powerful apart as we were together, after all. Whenever I envisioned what the morning would bring, however, all I could picture was one face: Hades’s.

  At last it was time, and I pushed aside my curtain to leave. Instead of an empty hallway, however, a peacock sat on a satin pillow in front of my rooms, blocking my exit. A gift?

  The bird stood, revealing its magnificent plumage of blue, green and gold, and it walked directly into my chambers as if it had been waiting for me. Yes, a gift. But from whom?

  I picked up a stray tail feather that remained on the pillow, tickling my nose with its soft ends, and I smiled. Zeus would never get me something so thoughtful. He would try to win me over with jewels and other cold, meaningless things. And that left only one person who would gift me something so extravagant.

  Hades.

  Was it possible he was as excited about seeing me as I was him? Maybe after a month alone in the Underworld, he’d come to his senses and decided to ask me to be his wife, after all. My excitement increased tenfold, and I all but skipped down the sky-blue and sunset corridor, still holding the feather. At last, a chance to escape. A chance to choose my own destiny. And I had no doubt about it—I would have chosen Hades again and again, until the end of time. Especially over Zeus.

  The throne room was set in the center of Olympus, laid out in a circle with over a dozen hallways leading from it, in the shape of the sun and her rays. It had been the seat of our power during the war, untouchable even to Cronus, and it was the one place where we’d all been safe. Now that it was Zeus’s domain, somehow the sun seemed darker. But that day, nothing, not even Zeus, could’ve brought me down.

  No, not nothing. The moment I stepped into the throne room, my heart sank. Zeus, Poseidon, Demeter and Hestia were already there, waiting for me, but Hades’s throne was empty.

  “Good morning,” I said, keeping the disappointment out of my voice. He was late, that was all. He had a much longer way to travel than the rest of us.

  “Good morning,” said Zeus. He’d aged himself a few years, but not even a beard could make him look like a king. “Now that we are all here, I will call this meeting to—”

  “What about Hades?” I said. “Shouldn’t we wait for him?”

  “Hades won’t be coming,” said Zeus, sounding annoyed.

  I lowered the tip of the feather from my nose. “Oh.”

  Across the circle, Demeter gave me a sympathetic smile. So everyone knew then, even Zeus. Enough to realize that Hades was at least part of the reason I’d refused his proposal. One of our sisters must have told him, then,

  I frowned. Hades felt like a secret, something I opened up when no one was there, and the thought of my sisters discussing Hades and me with Zeus made my skin crawl.

  Zeus cleared his throat, and he gestured toward me. “I see you got my gift. Consider it an apology for how I’ve treated you. I would give you the heavens if I could, but Demeter insisted something simpler would be better.”

  I nearly dropped the feather. His gift? One Demeter had helped pick out? “Thank you,” I mumbled, glaring at my sister. She knew how I felt about Zeus, and encouraging him like that wasn’t only cruel to him. It was cruel to me, as well.

  The meeting began, a mostly neutral affair with no one raising their voices. Poseidon and Zeus talked about the progress they’d made, protecting their subjects from predators and showing them how best to care for themselves now that they no longer had the threat of the Titans hanging over their heads, while my sisters spoke of what we’d discovered on earth. I remained quiet, however, my gaze focused on Hades’s empty throne. His realm was the largest; and after a war, of course he wouldn’t have time to spare.

  He would come next time, though. He wouldn’t break his promise. Not to me.

  * * *

  Hades didn’t come the next time, or the next, or the time after that. Finally, nearly a year after the war ended, his throne wasn’t there at all.

  “Hades has decided to become an honorary member of the council,” said Zeus that day. “He will join us when it is important, but otherwise he will defer to our judgment when it comes to matters above his realm.”

  In other words, he’d separated himself from us, breaking our unity. That pain sliced through me, hot and unyielding, and I had to blink rapidly to keep myself from letting it show. Fine. If he didn’t think
we were worth it—if he didn’t think I was worth it, then so be it. We didn’t need him. I didn’t need him.

  But I did, and that empty space inside my chest where hope for a happy life had once been ate away at me. He’d represented everything I’d wanted—respect, compassion, honesty and maturity that Zeus could never hope to obtain. The possibility of life as an equal to my partner. And with one single decision, he’d destroyed all of those dreams.

  As soon as the meeting ended, I fled to the earth. It was summertime, and the forest was lush with colors. Green leaves, red and purple flowers, the blue sky and the brown soil—it should’ve been beautiful, but I was blind to all except Hades’s betrayal.

  I sat on the shore of a lake and sobbed. My cries echoed amongst the trees, but I was alone. Always alone. My sisters were content with their lots. My brothers each had their own kingdoms to rule. When would it be my turn to have a happy ending? When would I have a chance to live the life I wanted?

  The Titan War hadn’t been waged just to save humanity. We’d fought to save ourselves, too. I’d fought for my freedom, but what good was freedom when I found no joy in life alone? I wanted to share it with someone, to share the bonds of respect and fidelity, to know that to someone in the world, I was their life. But I would never have that now. Not with someone who could ever hope to be my equal, and I could never be with someone who looked down on me as something less. Hades had been my only hope.

  A pitiful cry caught my attention, and I stopped weeping. Only a few feet away, crumpled on the ground, lay a tiny bird no bigger than an acorn. His wing was crooked, and as I peered down at him, he cheeped helplessly.

  “You poor thing.” Gently lifting the bird into my hand, I stroked his back. Next to the peacock that had become my constant companion in Olympus, this was the tamest creature I’d ever seen.