“Katrina.”
“I’m serious, Hades. Zeus and Poseidon were right. We have no idea what kind of implications my coming back could have. I’ve obviously done something I shouldn’t have been able to. Who’s to say that I won’t reach out and graze you tomorrow and banish you somewhere? What would your brothers do if that happened?”
“Rejoice?” Snorting, I rolled my eyes, turning her around to face me. Touching her cheek, I cradled her face in my hand, forcing her to look at me. “You haven’t done anything wrong. Bane deserves to rot in Tartarus. If anything, you’ve made the world a safer place.
“We can learn about your powers. There is someone, somewhere, who can tell us what’s going on. You’re not a danger to me. Never, in a million years, could you hurt me at all. I’ve been banished to the Underworld before. I think I can handle it, should it come to that.” Smiling, I leaned in and kissed her quickly. “Don’t doubt that we are meant to be together. I would banish every person I know if it meant I got to keep you forever.”
Blushing, she looked away, obviously touched by my statement. “You wouldn’t,” she mumbled, trying not to laugh.
“I would and you know it.” Wrapping my arms around her, I hugged her tightly, wanting to somehow convey the assurance that I felt at having her back by my side. She was my soul mate, strange powers or not.
“My Lord?”
Glancing out of the stall, I saw one of the guards hesitating in the open space, not sure if he should have interrupted or not.
“What is it?” I asked, slightly annoyed.
“You have a visitor from the Isle of the Blessed. He says you were going to send for him, but you haven’t decided to do that yet. He came anyway to save time, because you’re going to have to leave soon. But he also said you wouldn’t know what he was talking about. It was all very confusing, sir.”
Raising an eyebrow, I stared at him, not exactly sure what message he was trying to convey. “Did he say who he was?” I finally asked.
“It’s Tiresias, the blind prophet, My Lord.” The defender half shrugged, giving the impression that he thought the old man was crazy.
“Oh.” Staring blankly at him, I wondered why on earth I would have sent for a prophet, let alone a blind one. His knowledge when he was living had come from the gods. Now that he was dead and in the Underworld, he didn’t really have any use to us, since he was unable to communicate to the living.
“He’s in the war council room,” the guard continued, clearly not having any idea what to do with the situation. “Should I send him away?”
“It’s never a good idea to send a prophet away,” I stated solemnly. “Especially one who has come of their own volition. Tell him I will be there shortly.”
Saluting, the sentry turned and left, his boots clicking quickly across the floor.
Releasing Katrina, I smiled warmly, despite the worried expression she wore. “Everything will be fine. You’ll see. Come; let’s find out what this prophet has to say to me.”
Taking her hand in mine, I towed her out of the stall, stopping to let her put the brush away. Her outfit still bore some of the signs of the fight we’d partaken in, dust smudges and blood smears dotting the black fabric.
“We should check on Cristos after.” She sounded lost in her own thoughts, her gaze fixed on something I couldn’t see.
“Arsenio will have him patched up in no time,” I assured her. “Those two are used to fighting and taking care of each other. Cristos will be healed and ready to do something else stupid by the end of the day, I’m sure.”
Nodding, she started in the direction the guard had gone, still preoccupied with her own mind. It was a mystery to me, how she managed to think of so many things at once, but I had faith she would be okay. All we needed was some kind of explanation. Once we knew how her powers worked—and what all of them were, if there was more—she would be fine. Katrina wouldn’t let a setback like this stop her for long.
The double doors to the War Room were already open, the long forgotten space on the other side of the barrier like something out of an old horror movie. Dust covered every inch, the servants who were tasked with keeping the area clean let go in decades past. Banners that had once hung proudly now appeared like dingy red rags, the embroidered flame and helmet grungy. Weapons on the walls were dull and lonely looking. The chandeliers overhead were not lit, the hearth empty, and the wall of monitors blank. I hadn’t entered this place since before Katrina had passed away and it showed.
In front of the cold fireplace, a man stood, hands folded together behind his back. Long, brown robes clothed his figure, bald head seeming to look up at the space around him. At the sound of our entrance, he turned, though, revealing a blindfold over his eyes. Beside him, a young boy fidgeted, waiting for any order from his master.
“My Lord, Hades,” Tiresias spoke, bowing low. “Thank you for seeing me. I hear a companion as well. Is this the fair Katrina?”
Surprised, Kat glanced at me for guidance, not knowing what to do.
“Yes,” I replied, answering for her. “It is. What can I help you with, man? The guard who informed me of your arrival wasn’t forthcoming with information.”
“It is I who can help you, My Lord.” Holding his hand out, the prophet waited for the boy to guide him to one of the chairs at the round table in the center of the room. Sitting down, he sighed, fanning his fingers over the surface of the centerpiece. “I do hope you don’t mind if I sit. I am still old and tired. Death did not change that fact for me, unfortunately.”
“Not at all. You said I was going to send for you. How could you know this?”
The seer smiled, leaning forward. “It is true, my time of conversing with the gods for the sake of man has passed. However, there are still things to learn, even for those who are immortal. A few days ago, I was visited by a being who has long since discarded her affiliations with the world and her kind. Perhaps you remember her—Styx, the Titaness who ruled the Underworld before the Olympians came into power.”
Dropping my mouth open in surprise, I stared at the ancient man, trying to wrap my head around what he was saying. Before I could ask any questions, though, he continued, seemingly unbothered by the silence his words were bringing.
“It is no mystery that she passed on shortly after Zeus became king. However, not many knew that she had surrendered herself to the river that bears her name. In her death, she became part of the Underworld, joining her mind with that of this realm. She has been here, watching, since then. Until recently, she had no reason to intervene in your workings.”
“But she does now, because I’m here,” Katrina said softly, settling into a chair across from him.
“Yes, my dear. Everything that was used to bring you back—the spell and the book it was found in—belonged to Styx.”
“Even the water,” I added quietly, gripping the back of her chair so hard my knuckles turned white. “It came from the river.”
“It did,” Tiresias confirmed.
“Why did she have the spell? What purpose did she have for it?” Katrina leaned forward, her form tightly wound as she waited for the answers she wanted.
“Why does any immortal turn to magic? To get something they desire. Styx did not share with me who or what is was she intended to pursue, only that she halted her progress because of the consequences of the spell. She was not willing to accept them, and so her desire was never met.”
“And what were the consequences?” I asked harshly, feeling sick to my stomach.
“Katrina is now a part of the Underworld,” the prophet said plainly. “Her soul will always be tied to the dead, as is yours, My Lord. Her power will far exceed yours, though. You were not built to be the King of the Dead, specifically. Katrina is. Any living thing she touches will become tied to the Underworld for all eternity. She, herself, will be unable to stay away for long periods of time. After all, she is dead. Her body is buried in your garden.
“In bringing her back, you have anoi
nted her as the Reaper of this realm. It is her calling to walk among the dead and sacrifice the living. If she does not perform her duties, the Underworld itself will take her back, absorbing her like it did Styx.”
Shocked, I stared at him, barely noticing the way Katrina seemed to deflate, her body crumpling back against the chair.
“That doesn’t make sense,” I argued, glaring at him, wishing he could see how upset he had made her. “Katrina has touched me plenty of times, as well as my nephew, and neither of us are bound.”
“Those who performed the ritual will be saved from her touch,” Tiresias stated, not bothered at all by my tone or the obvious uncomfortable air of the room. “You sacrificed part of yourself to bring her back. Your powers run in her veins, keeping her alive. The Reaper can not banish herself.”
“Well, at least there’s one good thing.” Katrina half laughed, looking up at me. “I mean . . . I don’t want to kill people and send them to the Underworld, but at least you’ll be safe from being banished.”
“There are many good things,” the seer argued, having the audacity to look affronted. “Every situation always has the good and the bad. You will bring balance to the Underworld, young one. It is in chaos now, repeatedly ripped apart and used as a pawn in the games of Titans and gods. You will put an end to that. Your touch is law, child. No one will be able to reverse what you do.
“The Lost Ones will cease to exist. Your touch will send the soul home, where it belongs. No longer will anyone have to suffer with their unfortunate death, as you did for so many years. You will know your subjects personally. When a mortal’s time is up, they will run to you with open arms.
“This is not a curse, Katrina. This is a blessing, to you and every being that has ever existed. You hold in your hands the power to stop wars, end rebellions, and bring peace in death to those who so desperately need it. This calling is a special one and full of great importance. Styx did not go through with it because she felt the subject she had picked would do poorly and abuse the power, ultimately ending in him being absorbed and all her hard work gone to waste. However, she has complete faith in you. She spoke with me because she knew you would have questions and that you needed guidance. I was more than happy to share the news with you, because I, too, believe that you are the right person for the task.”
“You don’t even know me,” she said incredulously, standing up suddenly. “You have no idea if I’m good for this or not.”
“On the contrary. Styx has been watching the two of you since you first stepped foot here, Katrina. She shared what she saw with me. You are indeed meant to fulfill this calling.”
“So, what? She has no choice in the matter? She either does the job or she gets sucked away?” Panic overtook me then and I grabbed her hand, holding it tightly. I’d sworn to myself that nothing would ever take her from me again. I couldn’t force her to do the dirty work, though.
“I’ll do the job, Hades.” The calmness of her voice surprised me. Turning, she smiled brightly, nodding in encouragement, seeming like she was trying to convince herself as well. “Think about it. No one will ever have to suffer again. People who deserve to be in Tartarus will stay there. I can fix all of the problems, and I’ll always be with you. I’m more than happy to work, as long as it means I get to stay with you.” Squeezing my hand, she took a deep breath, steadying herself. “I’ll just have to be careful not to touch anyone on accident.”
Throwing a frown in Tiresias’ direction, I pulled her aside, concerned. “Are you sure?”
“I don’t have a choice, do I? But yes, I’m sure. You’re the Lord of the Dead and now I can truly be your Queen.” Leaning forward, she kissed me, her lips lingering on mine for a moment, the racing of her heart pounding against my chest. Breaking away, she took my face in her hands, grinning. “I love you. We can do anything together, including this.”
Softening at her words, I nodded, stealing another quick kiss from her. “I love you, too.”
“I do believe you’ll have guests shortly.” Tiresias rose, adding the scraping of his chair to his interruption. “Styx also expressed she believes the war with the Titans is coming to a close. The final battle will be soon. You should ready yourselves.”
Surprised yet again, I merely nodded, still holding Katrina.
“Lead on, boy.” Holding out his hand, he waited for his assistant to take him out, a smile on his face. “We have done what we needed to and, for once, it was well received.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Cristos
The water of the River Styx washed over me, stinging my wounds, but aiding exponentially in my healing. Blood drifted away from me into the liquid, most of it my own. It made the water look muddy and I suddenly felt exhausted. Staring out over the wide expanse, I looked at the lands of the Underworld on the other side, seeming to stretch back forever, the end out of my sight.
“Better?” Arsenio asked, seated on the shore behind me, crutches tossed in the dirt beside him. He could have leaned up against the stone wall if he’d been further up the shore, but for some reason was insisting on staying right with me.
“Yes.”
“Circe suggested it to me. I mean, I knew the water healed gods, but I didn’t think it would really do anything for me. It’s helped some, though. I’m not completely restored, but I’m progressing faster than I expected.”
“You’ll be off those crutches by tomorrow,” I stated, rubbing my hands over my face to rid myself of the grime splattered across my skin. The scratches there felt like sandpaper was being dragged across them as I did so.
“I’ll still have a limp, but yeah. It’ll be nice to walk on my own again.”
“Your knee was crushed two days ago, not a year.” Snorting, I continued my painful washing, trying to ignore the tingling that came from the healing properties of the liquid.
“Are you going to wait a year before you’re ready to talk about what happened?” Painfully to the point, Arsenio was staring at me with one eyebrow raised as I turned to glare at him.
“You know what happened,” I replied gruffly. “She got away.”
“I don’t buy it. No one has ever gotten away from you—not unless you wanted them to.”
Trying to evade his questions, I submerged myself underwater, holding my breath for as long as possible before coming back up. When I did, my brother was right there beside me, concern on his face.
“You are different. Tell me what happened. Let me help you.” Placing a hand on my shoulder, he nodded encouragingly, staring me straight in the eye.
“I couldn’t do it.” I’d meant for the reply to be offhand and sound relaxed. Instead, it came out strangled, like a wounded animal. It was like I’d physically maimed myself in admitting my failure, not because I’d been unable to follow through on my quest, but because of what it meant for Avalon. “I promised her before that I wouldn’t let her be a monster and when the time came, the promise meant nothing.”
“It’s not your fault she beat you in a fight.” Arsenio continued to stare, tight lipped, waiting for me to say more.
“It is, though. I had her, Arsenio. She was in my hands and I was winning. All I had to do was finish the blow and I froze.” Frustrated, I scrubbed my face again, welcoming the stinging pain.
“Of course you did. You love her. Killing Phoenix means sacrificing Avalon. That’s not a decision you can make in the spur of the moment.”
“But it wasn’t spur of the moment. I’ve known I would have to kill her from the day I first learned of her existence.” Laughing slightly, I turned, heading out of the water.
Arsenio, puzzlement on his features, followed me, limping up the shore and setting himself back beside his crutches. “What are you talking about?”
Haltingly, I shared the story of how I’d come to be aware of Avalon and the mystery that she was. Nothing was left out, even my decision to keep the truth of my fate from him.
“I thought you would try to help me and get yourself exiled
, too,” I explained. “It was my burden to carry, not yours.”
“That’s why you were so mean to her at first. You knew she would destroy everything.” Wonder filled his voice, surprise in his eyes. “When you attacked Zeus, you already knew that you would be sent away.”
“I did.” Sighing, I sat beside him and closed my eyes, thinking back over what had felt like a lifetime of secrets.
“You were going to kill her and stop it all from happening.”
“And instead I set in motion the very occurrences that led to my banishment.”
Silence spread between us, myself thinking of how much easier it would have been to just kill Avalon at the start and save myself the heartache. At the same time, I was so grateful I hadn’t. I loved her, more than any words or gestures could convey. She was the breath that filled my lungs and the blood that ran through my veins. A world without her was a life of torture and regret. Even with how everything had turned out, I wouldn’t trade our time together for anything. I would relive it a million times over, with this ending every time, just to experience having her and being loved by her again.
“I never realized just how much you loved her,” Arsenio said quietly, looking over at me as I opened my eyes. “To know what was going to happen and do it anyway—that is a love to rival all great loves.”
“You aren’t mad that I didn’t tell you before?”
“Furious. I could have helped you, you idiot.” Grinning, he glanced out over the water. Slowly, his face fell, several conflicting emotions washing over him. “I’ll help you now, though.” Clapping a hand on my shoulder, he nodded grimly. “Brothers to the end.”
“Brothers.” Placing my own hand on his shoulder, we sat that way for a moment, looking out into the Underworld.
Suddenly, there was a great flapping noise overhead and we both looked up, exclaiming as Hermes stared down at us.
“Cristos!” The messenger looked half crazed, his chest heaving heavily as he tried to catch his breath. His armor looked like it had been hastily thrown on, the gold metal glinting in the dim light.
Exoria (The God Chronicles #5) Page 18
