by Aimée Carter
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. N
either 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.
So I kept walking. The forest grew dim as the sun dipped below the horizon, and owls began to call to one another. Most mortals feared night, but I loved it. Quiet, dark, gave me time to think, and nothing seemed as bad as it did when the sun was out. I relaxed soon enough, letting my anger drain away, replaced by determination. I would figure this out, my family would accept me again and no one else would fade. I’d be a hero, and not even Hades would be able to treat me like the villain anymore. Everything would go back to normal, and that’s all I wanted. To act like none of this Persephone drama had ever happened.
Soon enough, I stumbled onto a trail. It wasn’t much—mostly a path that looked wide enough to fit a horse, but that was about it. It looked well traveled though, and that tug in my stomach grew stronger with each step. Maybe all of this self-loathing had thrown my powers out of whack. I didn’t see how the secret to our immortal existence could possibly be hidden here.
But I had to find whatever it was that pulled me in this direction. Whether or not my inner compass was broken, something was going on in these trees, and I needed a bit of fun right about now.
I’d been on the trail for five minutes when I heard it—a faint crackle, as if someone with loads of experience sneaking up on people was walking on dead leaves. Excellent. Things were about to get interesting.
The first one appeared seconds later. He couldn’t have been older than nine, and he cried out at the top of his lungs as he ran toward me, brandishing a stick like a sword. I stopped, bemused. Did he really think he could hurt me?
To my surprise, he skidded to a stop a few feet away, his eyes wide. “What’re you gonna do, just stand there and stare?”
“Was there something else you wanted me to do?” I said. Another set of footsteps behind me; a third pair to my left, and a fourth to my right. It didn’t take an idiot to figure out I was being ambushed. By children, apparently.
“Yeah,” he said, puffing out his chest. “Hand over your things.”
“What things?” I held out my arms. I wore a simple tunic, not unlike the one he had on, and a pair of trousers. Judging by the style, I was in…England. Probably. “My clothes?”
“Your valuables,” said a second voice to my left, deeper than the first. “Jewelry. Food.”
“Does it look like I have any on me?”
“Then where did you set up camp?”
“Nowhere.” At least that was the truth, even if the look on the first boy’s face told me he didn’t believe it. “I’m just walking.”
“Where?” said the same deep voice.
“Well, that’s none of your business, isn’t it?”
“We just made it our business.”
The thief behind me shoved me hard, and I landed at the first boy’s feet. “Are you sure you want to do this?” I said calmly, making no move to stand. They’d just push me down again anyway.
The second boy’s answer was a swift kick to my ribs. Perfect. Now I was going to have to either fight or run like hell, and I wasn’t in the mood to take off like that.
Instead I fell over as any mortal would, clutching my ribs halfheartedly. It wasn’t much of a ruse, but the second boy continued to kick me, while the first screeched, “Your gold or your life!”
Good grief. Talk about overkill. “Since—I don’t have any gold—guess it’ll be my life,” I said between kicks. Wasn’t doing that great of a job imitating wheezing, but I didn’t care too much right now.
Behind the second boy, a third joined, this one much bigger than the other two. He had a baby face though, and he held his weight awkwardly, as if he wasn’t used to being so large. Even though he had to be the strongest, he didn’t join in, and I liked him instantly. Unless he was the brains of the operation, but he didn’t hold himself like an authority figure, either.
The second boy knelt down in the dirt and began to pummel me, and I sighed inwardly. They really weren’t going to give it up, were they?
“Stop.”
A fourth person, and a voice that was definitely not male. I raised an eyebrow, and despite the beating I was supposedly enduring, I lifted my head. A girl around seventeen stepped onto the trail, wearing the same tunic as the boys. But unlike them, her bright blue eyes sparkled with intelligence and cunning, and as the second boy reluctantly stopped hitting me, she began to circle us.
“Notice anything unusual, Sprout?” she said, and the hitter pulled back enough to eye me.
“He’s not bleedin’. They always bleed when I get to ’em.”
“The small ones, anyway,” said the leader, and she bent down. “Why aren’t you bleeding?”
I sat up. She was pretty for a mortal, even with dirt smudged on her cheek and her black hair pulled back into a braid. But pretty didn’t mean much when she was the sort to sic her goons on unsuspecting travelers,
especially when they weren’t carrying anything of value.
Then again, she had stopped him, so there was that. Though had I been mortal, I would’ve been unconscious for sure by now.
“My secret,” I said. “Mind if I go?”
“Not yet.” She leaned toward me, scrunching her nose. “You don’t smell bad, either. And you’re clean.”
“Is that a crime?” I said.
“No, but it means you’re not what you look like,” she said. “Where are you going? Tell me, or I’ll let Mac have a go at you.”
The big guy with the baby face cracked his knuckles. Mac, then. “I don’t know where I’m going,” I said. “That’s the truth. I don’t even know where this path leads.”
“So you’re a drifter,” she said. “Fair enough. But where are your things?”
“I live off the land. I figure if humans did it for ages before us, I can, too.”
“But no tools? No water pouches?”
I shrugged. “I have good luck.”
The girl leaned toward me, her face an inch from mine. The tug in the pit of my stomach urged me forward, almost painfully insistent. I had to get going before anyone else disappeared.
Before I could move, however, the girl touched my chin. A familiar sizzle jolted through me, and as it always did when I found what I was looking for, that tug instantly vanished.
She was the answer? Now I was damn sure my powers were messed up. She probably couldn’t even read—had likely never held a book in her life. And she certainly didn’t have the secret to our eternity locked in her head. That just wasn’t something a single mortal could know.
But I stayed put, allowing her to tilt my head from one side to the other as she examined me. She was entrancing. No surprise that she’d managed to rope three boys into doing her bidding. And not everything was what it seemed. Maybe there was something special about her. Maybe she was one of Zeus’s many bastards. The possibilities were endless, and as I stared at her, I gave her a grin. Whatever it was I was looking for could wait a little while longer.
“You really aren’t hurt at all,” she said, stunned, and she stood abruptly, exchanging looks with the three boys. I expected amusement or curiosity, but all I saw was fear. “All right, so—you can go, then,”
