Myths of Immortality (The Sphinx Book 3)

by Wagner, Raye

  He fixed Hope with a wild, desperate look. “I have never known such panic. I scrambled for words. I was frantic . . . pleading for a miracle. In truth, I couldn’t even tell you what I said. I just knew that if I didn’t get out of there . . .” Tears streamed down Luc’s face. He swiped at them roughly, as if frustrated with the way his emotions were spilling out. When he’d collected himself enough to speak, he merely said, “He’s fanatical about his ownership of the Sphinx.”

  “He killed you.” Hope said the words, already knowing of their certainty, and her heart ached for what should’ve been for Luc and her mother.

  Leto reached for her husband, and he pulled her into a hug.

  “I’m so sorry,” he whispered into her hair. “So, so sorry.” He pulled back far enough to see Hope. Luc smiled at his daughter, but his eyes remained filled with haunted pain.

  “The next thing I knew I was at the river Acheron. Hermes was at my side, and he made payment to Charon so I could cross. I begged and pleaded, but the gods of the Underworld would not grant my petition. Truly, all I ever wanted was to love your mother.”

  Hope wanted to speak, but words utterly failed her.

  The Moirai were gone, and Athan and Xan now stood just outside a knee-high stone wall. On the other side, a vibrant green lawn extended with lush flower gardens and blossoming fruit trees. If the black rock of the Underworld hadn’t still surrounded them, Athan might have thought they were back in the mortal realm.

  “Persephone’s garden,” Xan announced and stepped over the wall.

  The ground was soft beneath them, the grass a welcome change. Athan’s spirits lifted as the demigods followed a path next to an orchard.

  “Don’t eat anything.” Athan said it just as much to remind himself as they passed trees heavy with peaches.

  Xan rolled his eyes. “Don’t be an arse. I know better.”

  The smell of the sweet fruit made Athan’s mouth water, and he quickened his pace. Xan seemed to understand and matched step for step.

  The palace of onyx rose before them, and Athan tried to formulate what he would say. They needed to get Hope, which meant they needed to find her. Which meant . . .

  All thoughts ground to a halt as they turned the corner.

  Isabel.

  The raven-haired beauty looked the same as she had almost ten years ago. Her gray eyes dilated with surprise, and she squealed as she ran toward him. “Athan!”

  Isabel.

  The demigod daughter of Aphrodite Xan had found in England. He’d brought her to the conservatory; was it a decade ago? No, more like fifteen years. Athan had been twelve when they’d found her. She was seventeen. Could that be right? It seemed forever ago.

  Isabel wrapped him in a hug, and his arms instinctively reciprocated. “Isa,” he breathed.

  She pulled away from him and cupped his face in her hands. “By the gods, I’ve missed you.”

  Her smile was like the dawning sun. Her eyes like the storm clouds over her native country. The words came back to him, the things they’d said to each other. His heart churned with trepidation.

  Her lips brushed his, then his cheek, then his ear.

  “Have you come to stay? Do you still live in the mortal realm?” she whispered. “It’s okay if you do. We’ll make it work.”

  Had he pulled back or had she? He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. The son of Hermes was at a loss for words.

  “Isa. Athan.” Xan looked at them both, his brow drawn in confusion. Without another word, he turned his back and walked off.

  Athan wanted to call out. He wanted Xan to . . . save him? The thought made Athan’s stomach clench. This was not right. He should be happy to see her, not wanting to leave.

  Isabel unwrapped herself from Athan but tugged on his hand. As she led him down a garden path, she continued to speak. “Are you still angry with him? You shouldn’t be. It wasn’t his fault. Not really. He tried to fend them off, but there were too many.”

  Somehow they’d arrived in a park-like area with benches. Pink petals floated on a breeze. The air felt fresh, like right after a spring shower. Life surrounded him in the realm of the dead. And his heart hurt.

  “Do you remember when we would spar, six or seven of us against Xan. He would always win, right? He was always the best of us at fighting.” She was silent for only a moment before continuing. “There were twelve Skia that night. It was an ambush. I tried to help, but . . . You know I was never very good at fighting.”

  No. She was never any good at it. But he’d foolishly thought it wouldn’t matter. Someone—no not just someone, he —would always be there to protect her. Except he wasn’t.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I should’ve been there.”

  Her laughter was carefree, but she stopped when she saw the expression on his face. “Is that what you think? Gods, Athan. I’m so glad you weren’t there. They would’ve killed you, too.” She smirked. “Well, maybe that wouldn’t have been so bad. We could’ve been here together, right?”

  That was just it. If he’d died, he would’ve never met Hope, and she was someone he didn’t want to live without.

  “Don’t be sad, love. We’re both here now.”

  Yes, they were. But his heart was not. He didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know how to say it. But this . . . this needed to be said. “Isa. It’s nice to see you.” He shook his head. “It’s great to see you . . .”

  She tilted her head, and her face grew somber. “But?”

  Just like a Band-Aid. “I’m not here for you.”

  Her smile faltered. “You’ve moved on.”

  It wasn’t a question. He knew that she knew, but she deserved to hear it from him. He would not make the same mistakes he’d made so many times before. He would be honest.

  He took her hands in his. Hands that were small and soft. She would always be this girl. The one he’d first fallen in love with. His first real kiss. But she wasn’t who his heart ached for now. She wasn’t the one he loved anymore. “I never stopped caring about you.”

  She nodded, but her eyes told him she knew better. “But it’s not the same.”

  He pursed his lips. “It’s not the same.”

  She cupped his face, and her thumb rested on his lips. She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. “Will you tell me about her?”

  So he did. He told her how he’d seen Hope and suspected her immortality. How he’d tried to woo her, and she’d resisted, pushing him away. How he’d finally broken through and then when his feelings shifted. “At first she was only another job, another demigod to get to the conservatory. I had no room in my heart for anyone but you. She has your same innocence and naivety, which is what probably cracked my shell. It just happened . . .”

  “That’s as it should be.” She patted his cheek and then rested her hands in her lap. “Is she dead?”

  This was more difficult. What would she think? But even as he thought the question, he realized he didn’t care. His decisions would not be determined by what Isa would think. His heart belonged to Hope.

  Athan told Isa the rest. He laid it all out. How Hope was considered a monster because of Apollo’s curse, her risks in coming to the conservatory, how she’d saved his life, and then coming to the Underworld to try to break Apollo’s hold on her. Athan told of how he’d come to the Underworld to help. “Myrine said she was stuck here, and I came to get her back.”

  Isa listened without interrupting once. Her eyes grew big as she absorbed Hope’s story, her risks and bravery. When Athan finished speaking, Isa leaned toward him. “You must love her to risk so much.”

  The truth of it resonated within him, as well as the truth of what Isa hadn’t said. “I do.” He reached forward and brushed away a lone tear sliding down her cheek. “I’m sorry.”

  Isa shook her head and scrubbed away the rest of her tears. She looked him in the eye and said, “We were both very young. I’m not sure either of us really knew what love was.”

  It
was true, but it still stung. “Even so, I’m sorry.”

  Because he could’ve done it differently. All those times in the Underworld . . . he could’ve sought her out.

  Isa stood and offered her hands to help him up.

  Athan clasped them both and, after standing, wrapped her in a hug. “I hope you find happiness here.”

  Her smile was just shy of the dawning sun. “I will, Athan. And I hope you find your Hope and save her.”

  He brushed her cheek with a kiss. “Goodbye, Isa.”

  “Be safe, Athan.”

  He could feel her eyes on him as he marched toward the castle, but he refused to look back.

  “Athan, wait!”

  He closed his eyes. Gods, did she not know how hard it was to walk away? He still cared for her, but . . .

  “Please. You will need to get past Cerberus, and I want to help.”

  He froze. He should’ve known. “I’m sorry.” Was he forever going to be misinterpreting? “I would really appreciate that.”

  She taught him two hand commands: sit and stay. “But most important will be the words you use.”

  “Ancient Greek?” He ran through the two words in the old language.

  She shook her head. “The divine language.”

  He swallowed. Of course. The language of the gods. The only language he didn’t know.

  She taught him the two words. So similar to ancient Greek and yet distinctly different.

  “Thank you, Isa. I’m sure you just saved my life.”

  She nodded. “Yes, but it is a life worth saving.”

  The wisp of a demigod stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “Goodbye.”

  He hugged her close, and a feeling of deep peace settled over him. “Goodbye.”

  The regret and bitterness he’d carried had been washed away. And he’d never felt so strong.

  Leto leaned into Luc and whispered something in his ear, making the obvious pain on his face clear.

  “You know what this means, right?” Leto smiled at her daughter, a look of sheer triumph.

  She did. But it was so preposterous. “Why wasn’t it fulfilled when I was born, or when you got married?”

  “The family has to be with Apollo, or his offspring. Apollo killed Luc before you were born. He knew what it would mean, and he tried to prevent it.”

  “Do you think he knew?” Even as Hope asked, she knew the answer. That was exactly why he killed his son. Hadn’t the sun god proven time and again how ruthlessly possessive he was? It was just so bewildering to think . . . “Is it really fulfilled?”

  Leto bit the side of her mouth in a familiar gesture of worry. Luc patted her arm and turned to his daughter.

  “Apollo will argue that it was not. That all the requirements of the curse were not fulfilled. But technically, they were. The Sphinx’s offspring married Apollo’s offspring and”—he pointed at Hope—“you are the child of that union.”

  Hope’s mind was racing. If the curse was fulfilled, then why was she still changing? Why was she still a monster?

  “He must acknowledge it, and if he will not, then the gods must rule on it. While it was technically fulfilled, Apollo could argue that technically it was not.”

  A technicality? The almost uncontrollable desire to hit something pulsed through Hope. The fulfillment of the curse was hung up on a technicality? Gods! She really wanted to hit someone. No, she really only wanted to hit one person, and technically he wasn’t even a person. “So, the curse wasn’t fulfilled because he killed you?”

  “It would not be the first time filicide was committed by the gods to achieve their ends.”

  Right. A fact she was all too aware of. If she thought about it, she could still smell the char from Apollo’s sons in her room. The memory made her shudder. And then another thought crossed her mind. “He’s your dad.”

  Symeon nodded.

  “Which means . . .” The thought of the god caressing her cheek made her whole body shiver. “He’s my grandfather.”

  Neither of her parents seemed shocked by her declaration.

  “But he still wants me?” She couldn’t help but cringe even as she said the words. That was disgusting to even think about.

  “Zeus married his own sister,” Leto said.

  As if that wasn’t revolting. “Well, in my world, that is incest. And it’s gross. Moving on, please.” Hope couldn’t go there. “So then what? What would have to happen to get rid of the curse?”

  Both women looked at Luc, who ran his hand through his hair in a gesture very reminiscent of another demigod.

  “You will have to go to Olympus. Bring the curse and its fulfillment to the attention of the counsel. If Apollo won’t acknowledge it, you must get the gods to rule on it. Themis is probably your best bet. If you can convince her.”

  Themis. The name sounded strangely familiar. “That’s it?”

  Luc offered an indulgent smile. “It will be a trial to even get there. But I’m confident you, daughter, will make it happen.”

  She wanted to ask him if he’d read any Greek mythology at all. But it would probably be rude to point out that, after all the studying she’d done in the conservatory, her odds actually didn’t seem particularly great. She looked around the small living room of her parents’ home in the Underworld and decided she didn’t really care about the odds, or else she would’ve never come here. Squaring her shoulders, Hope ticked off her next objective. “Go to Olympus and make Apollo acknowledge what a dirtbag he is. Got it.”

  Leto laughed as she stood and crossed the room. She sat on the loveseat and wrapped her arms around Hope in a hug. “I will miss you, daughter of mine.”

  “Do I have to leave now?” She’d just gotten there. Just met her father. Just . . . “I don’t want to go.”

  Leto nodded. “I don’t want you to either.” She ran her hand over Hope’s hair and tugged at the ends. “Do you know you’ve always had a profound sense of justice? You have more courage in your thumb than I have in my whole body. Even when you were little, you would tell me that one day you would break the curse. You have every talent and characteristic you could ever need to fulfill your destiny.”

  Hope choked back a sob. Tears spilled down her cheeks, and her heart . . . her heart was breaking. “Mom . . .”

  “Don’t squander all your glory down here. Make things right.” Her mom pulled her close again and whispered in her ear, “For all of us.”

  A thousand hugs would never be enough.

  The gate clicked shut, and Hope turned to wave one last time. She held the Book of the Fates in one hand, and her other hand came to rest on the necklace her mother and father had given her. A picture of the two of them on their wedding day on one side, and a picture of her mom holding Hope as a baby on the other. It was priceless, not because of the material it was made of, but because of the memories imprinted on the photos held within and the love they represented.

  Hope squared her shoulders and walked away from her parents’ home, but the vast emotional expenditure had exhausted her. The longer she walked, the harder it was to pick up her feet for that next step. The thin Book of the Fates seemed to weigh a ton, and Hope switched it from hand to hand.

  The muggy air pushed down on her, and the incessant grating of beetles frayed her already stretched nerves. She was walking in the Underworld, albeit a very nice part of the Underworld judging by the large homes and well decorated yards, and she had no clue how to get back to Thanatos’s home.

  Where had Asbolus run off to?

  She passed several souls as she wandered, and it felt as if they were watching her, talking about her, pointing at her.

  She turned to see if she could see her parents’ house, but she’d been walking a long time, and it had disappeared.

  The sweet scent of peaches wafted on the breeze, and Hope’s stomach lurched even as her mouth watered. She knew she couldn’t eat any, but the fact that someone was growing fruit . . .

  In the distance she saw a rich,
vibrant green. Not the varying shades of emeralds that dripped from the jeweled trees. These were real trees. She had to be close to Persephone’s gardens.

  Hope’s exhaustion fled in the excitement of knowing where she was. If she could get to the garden, she could get to—

  Hope skidded to a stop.

  The man walking toward her had a gait she would never forget. His broad shoulders and narrow waist came from hours of exercise. His dark hair was mussed as if he’d showered and run his hands through it far too many times. He was scowling and probably swearing to himself as he crossed the lawn. His countenance changed as soon as their eyes met. His face cleared, and a slow smile spread until both of his dimples popped, and he ran toward her.

  It took only a second for Hope to respond. She was running to him, laughing with excitement, and her heart was so full it could burst.

  She collided with Xan and buried herself in his chest.

  “Hope.”

  He breathed into her hair and kissed the top of her head, and for the second time that day, she burst into tears. He shushed her and held her, letting her soak the front of his shirt with her tears.

  She hiccupped, and they both laughed. “You came.”

  “Aye.” He cupped her face. “Did you really think I wouldn’t, lass?”

  He smelled so alive, like leather and steel, and so much like Xan. She hugged him again. “I missed you.”

  He chuckled, a low sound that reverberated through his chest. “I missed you, too. Did you get what you came for?”

  Her success bubbled up. “Yes. I did. The curse . . . oh, gods. Yes. I need to go to Olympus next and get justice, but . . . Apollo killed his sons . . . And we can break the curse . . . And I met my mom, and my dad. And they’re happy. They’re so happy. And I can have that, and be alive. I don’t have to be cursed.” She was rambling, but it felt so good to say the words, to know the meaning, and with Xan there, she was sure to get out and succeed.

  She couldn’t help but glance behind him. She wanted to know. “Is Athan okay? Did he—?”

  Xan’s smile faded, and his gaze darted toward the peach trees. He took one step back but kept his hand on her arm. “Aye. He’s fine. Made a full recovery.”