by Gabby Fawkes
Persephone laughed out loud.
“I’m sorry, I thought I misheard you when you said, ‘Hades’ help’.” She looked at me like all of my screws were loose. “That’s the thing about my dear ex-husband: he doesn’t help anyone. He hates, he sulks, he whines. His hair may even be extra fiery one day as he claims how very ‘affected’ he is by this or that event, but as for actually lifting a finger to help? Yeah – no. If anything, I wouldn’t be surprised if the btsan and gargoyles haven’t attacked the Underworld yet because Hades has made some sort of shady deal with them where he just sits back and lets them conquer Olympus.”
Still shaking her head, Persephone ripped a grape off its vine and popped it into her mouth sullenly. “You don’t know the guy. I do. He’s pissed about some age-old feud where he got screwed out of living in Olympus, and is now stuck in the dark, dank Underworld, so he takes it out on them any chance he gets.”
“Still,” Demi said hopefully. “It’s worth a shot?”
“Just how is flinging ourselves at the gargoyles’ and btsans’ feet worth a shot?” Persephone said.
A long silence reigned, punctuated by the sound of people picking grapes and chewing them, and Dion drinking long and deep from the wine skin.
“So,” I said, “are we going to do this very bad, very stupid plan, or what? Tomorrow?”
No one saying no was my version of a yes.
Almost immediately, Persephone was the first to stalk off, clearly pissed no one had listened to her. Demi threaded after her, probably hoping to smooth things over. Then Kian and Dion wandered off, Dion trying to show her something to do with Angry Birds on his phone. The Olympians left next, all except for Axel, who just stayed standing, looking at me.
Now it was just me and him...
“You don’t have to do this, you know,” he said, sitting back down when he saw I hadn’t risen from my seat.
“I know,” I said. “But if we don’t do anything now, if we just let Olympus fall, eventually we’re going to be next. Ulrulu-”
“Don’t mention him,” Axel snapped. “We don’t even know if he exists for sure. I mean, if Walario was so intent on helping, where is he now? So concerned about Olympus’ affairs that he won’t even show his face?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “And you’re right, I don’t really know if he was telling the truth or if what I saw with Ulrulu was real. But I do know that if we start to turn our backs on our allies-”
“Hera and those in Olympus are no allies!” Axel said fiercely, slamming his fist on the table and upsetting the grapes and wine. “She kicked us out of Olympus!”
A guilty look flickered amidst his anger as he used the grape bowl topside-down to stem the runaway flow of the spilt wine. His gaze found mine again. “Well?”
I sighed. “You may be right but… we can’t just let the gargoyles, btsan, and whoever’s leading them come and take over. Can we?”
“We can,” Axel said.
His hand had found mine and was now tracing reassuring circles on my palm.
“You can’t mean that,” I said softly, not wanting to give into it.
What Axel was saying made sense – a lot of sense. But it felt wrong in every way possible.
“Olympians, shifters and witches have been at war countless times before,” Axel said, clasping my hand tight. “What’s to say that this isn’t some bid for power from that corrupt witch council, or even a shifter pack that’s tired of playing nice?”
“But I thought you said that the btsan-”
“Haven’t been seen for centuries, yeah,” Axel said. “I can’t explain that. But I can’t explain a lot of this, and I don’t like going into a battle blind. How do we know that this isn’t some sort of distraction to lure us out and then defeat us, exposed, out in the open?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted, “about any of this. About what the right thing is. This whole time, I’ve just been going by what my gut is telling me. And right now, it’s telling me that we can’t just stand by and watch Olympus fall. It’s the first domino. If we let it topple, we’ll be next.”
Axel enclosed both my hands in his. “If I had to choose, I’d keep us safe. There’s no point in going if we’re just going to be conquered too.”
I was reminded of Milsindra’s cold words: “When it came down to it, you would choose saving your friends and your home over us, would you not?” But here was what neither of them got – it didn’t have to be an ‘either/or’ decision.
“There’s only one thing to do then,” I said, resting my head on Axel’s shoulder.
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah,” I said. “We’ll have to win.”
He kissed the top of my head, sighing into it. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”
“No,” I said.
“Will you at least think about it?” he snapped, moving away suddenly, so that my head drooped into thin air.
“Whoa,” I said, eyeing him. “Yeah, I guess I can. What was that about?”
“You don’t think logically,” Axel snapped, getting to his feet. “What matters what your gut says if it gets us all killed?”
He stood there, fists clenching and unclenching before he turned on his heel and left.
I sat there, staring after him for some time.
Was Axel right? Was my stubbornness to do the ‘right’ thing going to get us all killed?
When I finally did get up, with no more of an answer to the questions than before, all I felt like doing was passing out in my bed.
Although once I got there, I stared into the impassive stone ceiling as all of me stewed with nerves. So much for passing out in bed.
Then again, tomorrow was basically a do-or-die day.
If things went according to plan, we’d go to Olympus and defeat the gargoyles and btsan. But what if things didn’t go according to plan? What were we supposed to do if Hades wouldn’t help us? Fly into Olympus when it was swarmed with gargoyles and probably btsan who’d be all too happy to take us down?
God, the Romms would’ve had a clever plan for this – trickery was their specialty. But they’d left – mainly thanks to me. I’d been the one who hadn’t listened to Axel’s warning not to give them even another day. It was my fault those Romms had died, been turned into gold.
And yet I was so sure that this time my way was the right one?
If you would only trust our might, PV said primly, then you’d understand that we don’t require the piddling others at all. Just some good old-fashioned fire.
I ignored it. How could it be so sure? I mean, I had already fought the btsan and gargoyles once, but would I really be able to take on potentially hundreds of them? Thousands?
And what about the younger kids – how could I convince them to stay behind? God, I’d heard some of the youngest ones even yelling, ‘Die, dirty gargoyle!’ when one of their blows made contact during sparring.
Even now, as I ached to sleep, I couldn’t shake the weirdly certain feeling that this was my last night.
22
The next morning, I woke up groggy and crabby. Luckily, Persephone had taken care of breakfast (soggy eggs with some plant that looked suspiciously like Demi’s favorite dandelion – clearly their discussion hadn’t ended amicably).
Even better, Athena had taken care of the whole tell-the-kids thing. Although that didn’t stop several of the crying, most devastated ones, notably Tamarin, from trapping me in a hug, until Athena firmly said, “What did I say?”
“What did you say?” I asked her privately, as those of us heading to Olympus strode out of the stronghold minutes later.
“That Speranţă needed noble protectors,” she said.
“Huh, nice one,” I said, saving that for future use.
Hopefully it wasn’t one of those sayings that got worn out when you used it too much.
Turned out that getting into the Underworld wasn’t overly difficult. Apparently, Dion’s jet had a few somewhat recent special additions
that allowed quick access to even Olympus’ most remote areas.
In the end, we’d decided on a group of thirteen. “Unlucky,” Dion had muttered, but when Kian fixed him with an executioner’s stare, he bleated, “Of course, I’m still coming. Was only saying, only saying…”
Our ‘Unlucky Thirteen’ included the Olympians, Kian, Demi, Jeremy, myself, and most of the older kids too: Hulda, Owen, Timmy, and even Marley, who couldn’t do much more than heal people (“You guys’ll need it,” she said firmly, clutching the topless broom handle she was apparently going to fight with). Best of all was that Jenna, whose powers still hadn’t activated and showed no signs of doing so, wasn’t coming along.
“Don’t worry,” she’d said snidely. “If you don’t make it back, we’ll totally mourn you.”
“And if we don’t come back, I told Sammy to make sure to give you a hurricane every time you’re a bossy bitch,” I shot back sweetly. “Which might be always.”
Sammy not going was a bummer, but a necessary one.
Although her powers had advanced considerably, she still wasn’t great at the whole aiming part. She could create a tornado, easy, a skill we’d actually practiced a few days ago in the Badlands, but only half the attempts hit the intended target, while the other half had also swept me up. It wasn’t surprising, considering Tempestarii were insanely strong and their powers notoriously hard to hone. Although that didn’t stop Sammy from having a little thunderstorm of upset when I broke it to her that she couldn’t come.
The flight to the Underworld was ragged, bumpy and downright awful. Even when Dion took over the flying himself (claiming he’d taken a course half a century ago), the plane swooped, zig-zagged and dropped with zero warning.
“Haven’t really tried going to the Underworld with this thing,” he admitted. “Much.”
Within a few minutes, the true story got out: that Hephaestus, who had made the go-to-all-of-Olympus alterations, had specifically warned Dion to test them, which, naturally, Dion hadn’t gotten around to actually doing.
By the time we made our crash landing in the Underworld, I was about ready to throw up – and strangle Dion.
Luckily for him, who was at the door waiting for us on the cement-gray craterous ground as we disembarked, but Hades.
As his handsome face spread into a smile, his black eyes glinted in a way that couldn’t be good.
“What an entirely surprise and welcome reunion,” he said, spreading his black-suited arms.
Although my gaze had been drawn to his hair – it was a bright pink instead of the usual blue.
“Hi H,” I said warily, disembarking.
Dion was next to get out, wanting to get things moving, probably. Back inside, a few minutes before landing, he’d announced his decision to let us off in the Underworld and then go himself to park his jet at an undisclosed location, one we could apparently get to from the Underworld. Apparently, this was all because he trusted Hades 0 percent with his precious jet, even if Kian made it invisible, which she offered to do. When asked if that would complicate things if we needed to escape, he claimed that the Underworld had plenty of passageways to other lands. Just not Speranţă, of course.
Whatever.
We didn’t have time to delay, so I immediately threw myself into explaining.
Either Hades would help us or he wouldn’t. Me making faux-pleasant conversation about how nice his pink hair was, and how lovely the Underworld was looking on this fine day, wouldn’t change that.
After I finished telling him the plan, by which point everyone had gotten out of the jet and crowded around Hades, he paused. Then he laughed long and hard.
“Hahaha, hehehe, hohoho, hahaha, hihihi…”
“As I thought,” Athena said, turning on her heel.
“Where are you going?” I called.
“To see if my Olympian army is still intact and prepared to aid us.”
“More she doesn’t want to reveal her loyalties too early on, before the outcome of the battle is settled,” Apollo said bitterly.
Meanwhile, Hades was still laughing. This went on for a good two minutes, before Axel lost patience and gripped him by the throat, lifting him into the air then as Hades finally switched from laughing noises to choking ones. Axel dropped him to the ground.
Sprawled there, Hades rubbed at his throat moodily. “My likelihood of helping you has dwindled considerably.”
“Were you going to help us anyway?” I asked.
He tilted his head, squinted, and smirked. “No.”
“See?” Persephone said from the back of our group. She’d been staying out of it, not wanting to get close to him, but now she strode forward. “Just like I thought. You are a coward and a fool.”
For once, Hades was speechless.
“Percy…” he said in a tender voice, “you came?”
“Don’t use that tone with me,” Persephone snapped. “It wasn’t to see you. I’m here to help. Olympus is our home, remember?”
A sneer materialized on Hades’ face. “My home is here.”
“What did I say?” Persephone said to the rest of us.
Still, I eyed Hades. “I don’t get it,” I said. “Are you really so bitter that you’d actually let Olympus fall?”
“Oh, I forgot,” Hades said, his brows two low pink lines. “You only spent a few weeks here, wasn’t it? Not centuries upon centuries, with a kingdom of recently deceased, blubbering idiots, rotting in a stinking pool of filth.”
Now that he mentioned it… the Underworld didn’t smell so great, something between rotting meat and someone who hadn’t washed in weeks.
“But still,” he added, with a forced smile, “life’s not so bad when you’re more or less banned from Olympus, banned from the sea and scorned by all who meet you.” He nodded emphatically. “You’re right, perhaps I have been taking this all quite hard.”
“You never said what happened to your hair, H,” Apollo said, stepping forward with a suspicious look in his navy eyes.
Hades made a display of being flattered. “Oh, this shade? Just a token of respect from whoever is doing whatever they are doing upstairs. And, if you look at the waters, you’ll see a nice new addition there too.”
Clearly Persephone had been dead-on when she’d said Hades had been bribed into staying out of Olympus’ conflict – not that he’d needed much convincing.
We followed him over to the river of souls.
As usual, there were the same sad, suffering souls, clambering up the edges, moaning and begging to be freed. But there was an addition now. The water was… twitching.
Hades dipped his finger in and, as a vicious, demented and terrifyingly fanged fish latched on, he lifted it, smiling at us. “Beautiful, aren’t they? And just think, I can throw anyone who annoys me in here for a nice dose of retribution.”
“I thought everyone who came here was already dead, a soul,” I said. “And that piranhas were attracted to blood.”
Hades smiled pleasantly. “Not these.”
His smile dropped as his eyes became hooded. “And not everyone who annoys me is here in the Underworld with me.”
“So that’s it then?” Persephone demanded. “You just hand Olympus over to them because they make your hair pretty and gave you some stupid fish?”
Hades frowned. “You never understood my ambitions, my grievances.”
“I tried to,” Persephone insisted. “For hundreds upon hundreds of years. You never took interest in my plants, but I tried listening to your sad sob story, tried figuring out ways that we could tackle it together, get back in a good place with Zeus and Poseidon. Instead, you preferred to sit around here, feel sorry for yourself and order souls to do dumb things like scare humans and fetch you cake when you got hungry.”
Hades looked genuinely affronted. “My dear, that is no way to talk to your husband-”
“You’re no husband of mine!” she said bitterly. “You’re a coward. A bitter, easily-bought coward. And if you honestly think th
at whoever is launching this attack is just going to let you sit here and continue your little soul-business… well, then you’re dumber than you look.”
Hades considered this, his gaunt face wearing a dangerous expression. Then, with a flick of his wrist, the piranha was flung back into the river.
He strode over to the river of souls until he was standing in it.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“What does it look like I’m doing?” Hades said. “I’m getting help for us.”
“By taking a bath in the river?” Artemis said dubiously.
“Close, but no,” Hades said dryly, then craned to address the souls, their transparent, quivering forms flocking to him.
“You know what to do,” he told them, as their eyes bulged and their lips moved soundlessly. “Now go do it. Olympus needs our help, do you hear me? Olympus needs my help.”
He placed a self-important hand on his chest, his chin up. “I always knew this day would come. The day when even my brother would be practically begging for my help.”
“Zeus is still missing,” Artemis pointed out. “And- ow!”
She shut up as Axel elbowed her.
“Drop it. He’s helping us,” he growled.
Now that everyone had fallen silent and my worried thoughts weren’t clamoring in my head, I… heard something. Coming from the Underworld’s stormy sky, it was… damn. The rumbling of the battle.
Shit. How much time did we have?
“I know a back way into Olympus that is more, how do you say it, discreet than your precious jet or even the usual river of souls,” Hades said. “Follow me.”
We were about to when voices from behind stopped us.
Whirling around, I could only stare at what I saw.
Racing toward us was not only Sammy, who had agreed to stay behind, but also Tania, flying through the air and… was that Jenna beside her? Flying?
