by Amy Braun
This stunned me—and terrified her. I could see it in her eyes. All I wanted to do was break this distance and give her a hug and tell her I still saw her the same way. She was still Thea to me—a strong woman who loved the ocean and made crafts from seashells.
She licked her lips, eyeing the goblets. “What’s in the red one?”
Zeus’ eyes darkened. Hera scowled. “You would be wise to obey, girl.”
“I don’t know what’s in that,” Thea jabbed her hand at the crimson goblet. “It could be poison just as easily as wine.”
Hera actually rolled her eyes. “It is perfectly safe. It is enchanted to taste like warm honey. We even had the subordinate run mortal tests on it to ensure it was clear of diseases.”
My stomach dropped to my feet. Thea turned paper white.
“Is that human blood?” she whispered.
“The donor was a willing subordinate,” Zeus explained. “He was not harmed and has been granted a higher status as well as gold. Do mortals not donate their blood for charity?”
“This is not the same!” Thea shouted. Cold energy flushed through the room.
“And we run low on options,” Zeus barked back. “This is what we have been forced to without further belief bestowed upon us. Consume that belief and our blood to ignite the powers residing within you.”
“No. My power isn’t worth this.”
“Do not bend to pride, girl,” hissed Hera.
Thea shot her glare that could peel paint. “Don’t fucking call me girl again.”
The room swelled with energy: crackling power from Zeus, wispy pressure from Hera, and bitter cold from Thea.
Then Zeus relaxed, and the knot in my stomach twisted again.
“Allow me to make this simple for you, Thea Eldoris,” he offered. “Drink these goblets and begin your transition to a goddess now, and you will spare your lover his fate.”
Thea frowned. “I don’t have a lover.”
“No? Then what is Liam Areios to you?”
I stopped breathing. Horror shot through Thea’s eyes, quickly burning into rage. The temperature in the room dropped at least ten degrees.
“What did you do to him?” Her fists trembled with anger.
“We gave him a simple task,” crooned Hera, a wicked grin curling her lips. “He now carries a weapon to defeat his brother and end the Prophecy. We know he shall not act on his will, but the hilt of the Omega Knife has been enchanted with compulsion. Now that he has touched it, that compulsion shall spread to all of us in the Pantheon. If he resists, we will force him to act. Liam Areios will wound his brother, so long as we demand it.”
“No!”
I screamed the word, but no one heard me save for the god of death. And he didn’t do shit.
The Omega Knife weighed heavy on my hip. I wanted to reach for it, to tear it away and throw it—
A spike of pain lanced into my head. I hissed and wrenched around.
Hades stared at me with dead, pale eyes.
“That is the smallest amount of what that hex can do, Liam Areios. And I was being polite.”
My heart beat violently against my ribs.
Like a fucking idiot, I trusted the gods and took what they offered. As a thank you, they fucking hexed me.
“So this is blackmail?” Thea hissed. “You want me to become one of you or you’ll control him? Try to break him?”
“Ares’ sons are simple weapons,” Hera dismissed. “They are tools to be used and discarded. But you have been chosen for greatness.” The goddesses’ eyes narrowed. “We offer you a gift. Do not decline it.”
Silence hung oppressively in the air. Seconds became minutes. I wanted to fill it with a scream—a plea to Thea—so I could beg her not to do this. I wasn’t worth her soul.
But you can’t fight all the gods. They tricked you, and now you’re trapped.
Thea’s eyes dropped to the goblets. The air warmed, and her shoulders slumped.
“You have to do better than that,” she challenged.
Hera and Zeus glowered at her. “You are in no position to bargain,” Zeus retorted.
“Actually, I am. Because right now, I’m the only heir that you control. I am the first mortal to become a goddess, but you don’t even know who will replace Apollo, which shows your people that you’re fragile. If I refuse, and I can, that crack grows wider.”
Thea raised her head, waves of black hair spilling down her back.
“If I do this, I want a guarantee that you will not hex Mason or Corey, nor will you control Liam. Leave them completely out of whatever you have planned.”
“We cannot do this,” countered Hera. “We need Liam Areios to contain his brother—”
“I’ve made my offer. If you’re not going to accept it, then I am walking away right now.”
Hera snarled as blasts of angry energy pulsing off her. “You stupid, selfish, vindictive—”
“Done.” Zeus’s single word carried weight and promise. “We shall not intertwine Liam Areios, Mason Khalekus, or Corey Adastros in any future plan. But Derek Areios must be dealt with.”
Thea bowed her head. “I know what he has done.”
She reached for the crimson goblet.
Hades led me out of the chamber minutes later. Anger pounded through my skull and chest. I was shaking, my mind replaying the Olympians confessing their intentions, and watching Thea drink two cups of blood. I’d stood in that chamber, watching it all unfold, screaming and shouting and trying to stop Thea. Hades had kept me silent, holding me back as she picked up one goblet, then the next.
The moment she set the cups down, Hades led me from that secret chamber into the endless halls of the Clouds.
I wanted to run, to cool my head, but the halls were deceptive, and the Olympians could teleport. There was nowhere I could go they wouldn’t find.
My mind fixed on Thea’s face.
She hadn’t been hurt or fallen ill after drinking, but she needed to rest. From the look in her eyes when it was done, she’d wanted to fall not just into a bed, but off the face of the earth. So much shame, regret, grief. All because she cared about us.
And when she woke up, she might not be Thea anymore.
Hades drifted behind me, observing.
My temper frayed.
“Why did you bring me here? Why did you let me watch that?”
Hades stared at me with disinterest. He didn’t care that I shouted at him; he didn’t tell me to stay quiet.
“To remind you that you have no control here. No power, unless you take it. And if you take it, there will be a price.”
The words processed slowly in my head, the weight of everything that had happened sinking in like a slow knife.
My fingers twitched to the Knife I’d been given––
Hades’ eyes flashed down. “I would not recommend that. The Knife takes power, true, but it also bestows that power on the next creature it touches. And you would not want my power infecting your brother further.”
Infecting. Like Derek had a fucking disease, and not gods hounding him with every breath. If I could, I would hunt them and—
I blinked, focus snapping back to me.
No, no, shit.
That shouldn’t have been my reaction. I was smarter than that, more cautious.
The Knife already seemed to be doing its job. And I barely touched it.
Shit. This is bad. I don’t know how to get out of it.
“So what do you want from me?”
Hades raised an eyebrow. “What makes you think I want anything?”
“Spare me,” I bit out. Apparently, fear and anger made me bold enough to snap at a legendary death god. Derek’s rubbing off on me. “You wouldn’t have shown me that if you didn’t want something from me. I’ve played power games with gods before. So what do you want?”
The Olympian considered me, his eyes sucking all the light from the room. Even his pale hair seemed to cast a shadow.
Finished his assessment, he leaned
back. “You are right. I do want something. But it is not in your power to give yet, so I will warn you once never to demand anything of me again.”
A part of me wanted to challenge him. But I didn’t trust that part. Challenging gods usually led to poor life decisions.
“For now, know that I am watching. My kin have long since consigned me to the outside of our society and I am glad to thrive there, watching them make fools of themselves from the shadows.” A twitch lifted the corner of his mouth. Was he trying to… smile? If so, he needed to stop. It looked creepy as shit.
“Do not fear death, Liam Areios. You have much more to accomplish before your end.”
Bands of black shadow rippled and wrapped around Hades. The god’s eerie smirk remained as he vanished, erased in a cold haze, leaving me standing in front of a weird gold door with a cursed Knife and a head full of questions.
I rolled through them, each one fighting for my attention, when the gold doors peeled open.
Thea stepped out.
She still wore the white shift, her hair still loose and soft, her skin regaining its color.
Then she looked up, and I immediately saw the difference.
Thea’s eyes had always been beautiful. A distinct, aquamarine shade, like the sea under the sun. But now they glowed as if lit by fires. Illuminated by an immortal power…
Because she’d take her first steps into becoming a goddess .
Her expression seemed dazed, even lost. It took her a few blinks before she realized I stood there, staring at her with an aching heart.
“Hey.” My voice sounded groggy and scratched, as if I’d been screaming and couldn’t remember.
“Hey,” Thea replied.
Something broke in her then. A sob pulled out of her and she bolted toward me. I opened my arms and caught her before she could knock me off my feet. I held her close, pressing my face into her shoulder and hair, needing just one thing to ground me to this moment: one scrap of hope, a sense that I wasn’t going to keep losing people.
I knew Thea might be beyond my reach soon. She remained herself for now, but the gods were so out of touch with humanity, I worried Thea would lose hers before she realized it.
“I’m sorry,” Thea whispered, her fingers digging into my back, gripping me so tight she almost bruised.
I held her tight. She was so cold; the power leeching off her aura felt thick and icy. She wasn’t even using it yet.
“I… I had to do something,” she went on. “I made a choice, and I…”
“Shh, hey, don’t think about it. Not now.” I stroked her hair and closed my eyes. “I think I did something too. We’ll talk about it later.”
We stood in the corridor of the Clouds, two kids holding each other and pretending not to fall apart.
The Knife hummed against my hip, and I felt another shard of hope slip away.
DEREK
WE CONTINUED FORWARD, fighting against the cries of my friends, family, and monsters ringing between my ears. I looked at the floor, but every now and then, my vision would blur and I would see a muddy rain-soaked ground, blood covered floors, or crumbled dirt.
An ache formed between my eyes. The voices were getting worse, and there was no spell or magic to stop it.
Selena walked with me, her fingers crushing mine, leading me with her Sight while using me as an anchor. Every once in a while, her breathing hitched and she stopped. I would touch her shoulder gently and tell her we needed to leave. Some times took longer than others, but I always brought her back.
At least until the walls began to change.
Concrete walls rippled and shifted. The shadows stretched and darkened, thinned and bent until they became trees. The air changed, turning heavier, colder. I smelled rain and mud. My skin felt wet. I turned, gripping my sword. My arms ached and my heart pounded, but I couldn’t remember running or fighting before this moment.
Then I saw something lying on the floor ahead of me.
A body. Small and hurt, a dark pool of blood rolling out of the chest wounds.
No. Not again.
But it felt different this time. Real.
My feet hammered the ground as I ran. I needed to get to Liam, to help him. But my sword arm remained heavy. Too heavy. I couldn’t let it matter. Not while he remained hurt.
Dragging the sword behind me, I ran until I reached my brother. His head lolled to the side, blue eyes filled with pain and mouth smeared with blood. His trembling fingers reached for me. I reached back––
My feet snapped out from under me, and I fell. My spine and skull hit the ground. I grimaced, head spinning. Something warm settled on top of me, but it was supposed to be raining––
I opened my eyes, no longer seeing the rain or Liam’s dying body.
Instead, my eyes darted to concrete walls and a ceiling instead of stretches of forest and rainy sky. Scraping my hands along the floor, I felt dry stone and not rain.
An illusion. That’s all it had been, but what kicked me––?
Panicked breaths came from next to me. I turned, and watched Selena push herself up from the basement floor. She must have knocked my feet out from under me by accident…
Staggering and wild eyed, she looked left and right. Spinning in a panic, crushing her hands into her hair. Seeing something that wasn’t there—reliving a memory she couldn’t control.
I launched to my feet, head aching from where it hit the ground, and jogged after her. “Selena!”
She didn’t hear me. Like me, she’d become trapped. I ran closer to her, but when her eyes snagged on me, she panicked and ran.
Whoever she saw, it wasn’t me.
I slowed down. “Princess Cassandra!”
That halted Selena’s run. She turned again, and this time I bowed onto a knee. I didn’t know how this spell worked, if she would even see me through the illusion, but hopefully she would see me as a guard wanting to protect her, instead of an invader wanting to hurt her.
When I looked up and saw her standing in place, I risked speaking again.
“It’s safe, Your Highness. I will protect you.”
Whether or not my words broke the illusion or changed it, I couldn’t be sure. I wasn’t going to ask what she saw. But she blinked rapidly, fighting to understand, and then her vision cleared.
Cassandra was gone. She was Selena again.
A choked sob escaped her as she rushed to me. I stood up and held open my arms. She nearly knocked me from my feet, crushing her arms around my middle. I held her close, scared to close my eyes again.
“You’re here,” she whispered into my chest. “I’m here. It wasn’t real.”
“It wasn’t real.” I didn’t know if I was speaking for the both of us or just myself.
Finally, we pulled away from one another. Our hands linked again, sweat slicking our grip as we walked deeper down the corridor. Titanic energy pressed around the walls, shaking them in our eyes. Flashes of memory barred my vision, but I kept walking, regardless of the flickers I saw. I kept telling myself that nothing save for Selena was real in this place. Nothing could trick or hurt me here.
It felt like the longest walk of my life.
Finally, mercifully, Selena pulled me to a stop. We stood in another open space, similar to the one we’d lingered in when we left the elevator, only this one didn’t have construction equipment or cracked concrete. Light flickered over our heads, dim and unreliable and not giving any source of calm to my mental state. Selena pointed to a shadow-filled doorway directly across from us.
“It’s in there,” she whispered in my ear.
Good news, meet bad news. We’d found what we were looking for, but the idea of getting that close to something seriously fucking with my head did not thrill me. But we had come too far not to press on.
I walked forward, and the walls flickered again. Illusionary magic took hold of the basement, flashing between the bland, grey walls of my reality to the dark, stormy night of my past. In both realities, I heard rain and my
little brother screaming for my help.
Between flickers, I watched my foot pass the doorframe––
Light exploded in front of my eyes, erasing both past and present until all I could see was blazing white. It burned tears into my eyes and shrieked against my ears. My skin burned as if I’d just been thrown into a fire.
I staggered under the howling noises and smothering heat. I Adapted and hardened my skin to stone. Somewhere, Selena screamed in pain, but I couldn’t see her. Too much light, too much noise.
Get rid of it, get rid of it. I yanked the box from my belt, grabbed the lid—
Pain exploded through my left hand. I dropped the box and I watched it vanished into the light. Shit! I swooped down to find it, and my knees barking against the hard floor—
The light snapped off and blackness enveloped me. My breathing hitched. Had I gone unconscious? I blinked, feeling my eyes open and close, but I couldn’t see––
An absolute, bitter cold suddenly gripped my bones. Icy breath sawed out from my lungs. The screams became agonizing wails. Too much. It was too much. I had to find the box. I had to help Selena.
Selena, who I could no longer hear in the cacophony.
My hands scraped across the floor, blindly seeking the box.
New, echoing voices filled my head, spoken by someone I didn’t recognize.
You will fail.
Colors flashed through the blackness like spilled paint, spiraling into an image of my friends scrabbling to escape a shadow looming above them.
My hands brushed across something wooden. I fumbled for it and knocked it away again.
You cannot save them.
Another flash, and my friends lay on their backs, drenched in blood, eyes open and unseeing. I felt the weight of Ki̱demónas and smelled blood.
I grabbed at something small and square. I yanked the box closer.
The Underworld waits.
Colors faded and a new illusion took shape in front of me. A world of gray tones and smoking waters. A man stood in a boat, holding a lantern with a cane and staring at me with ember-filled eyes.
