A stark silence followed the question. Hades could feel Persephone rage beside him. Hermes too fisted his hands. Hades stuck out his arm to keep the god from revealing them. As much as he found disfavor with what was being discussed, he was also not surprised. And he wanted to know who was on his side.
Finally, Madelia spoke. “That is ridiculous.”
“I appreciate the vote of confidence, Madelia,” Hades said as he stepped out of the shadow, his gaze sweeping the room. “Since most of you have made it clear that you have no allegiance beyond what serves you, I shall give you a few seconds to choose the side you will take moving forward.”
There was a pause, and then Ptolemeos straightened. “And what are the consequences for not choosing you?”
“There are none,” Hades said. “Save what will befall you if your choice is wrong.”
The old man scowled. “It is just like a god to speak in riddles.”
Hades’s mouth quirked. “Think of it as roulette, Ptolemeos. Are you willing to make the bet?”
“Not when I am staring death in the face,” said the man.
“A wise choice,” said Hades. “As you are all aware, Theseus, with the aid of his father, has taken over New Athens. It is true that he is responsible for the deaths of several gods. The only reason Zeus is still alive is because Theseus hopes to use him as a pawn to gain the favor of our father, Cronos. I do not know his plans beyond that, save that he has some delusional hope that he can rule the entirety of New Greece as its sole god, a feat he cannot accomplish while I still live.”
Though New Athens was now under Poseidon’s control because the landmass was so small, all that managed to do was prevent other gods from teleporting about the city. Hades, however, also had power over land, no matter its size.
“So what are you going to do?” asked Leonidas. “Free Zeus and hope he brings about peace?”
“Why does everyone keep suggesting that?” Hermes muttered.
“It has been a long time since Zeus has brought about peace,” said Hades.
“So you do not mean to free him?” asked Jorn.
“At this moment, my brother is not my priority,” said Hades.
“Then what is your priority?” asked Damianos. “So we are all clear.”
“First, we find a way to give shelter to the innocent,” he said. “But we cannot take people across the sea. Poseidon will sink your ships if you manage to get them on one.”
“Many have fled to temples hoping for protection,” said Ptolemeos. “But rumor has it that Theseus intends to raid them in the morning.”
Hades exchanged a look with Persephone who asked, “Can we shelter here?”
“We could,” said Ilias. “The challenge is getting them here safely, especially without the aid of Dionysus’s tunnels.”
“We are certain they are useless?” Hades asked.
There was a part of him that did not believe it.
“There is a chance a few have drained, but there willbe bodies,” said Ptolemeos.
“And there are no survivors?” Persephone asked.
The old man shook his head. “None who have come forward, though I do not imagine they know where to go given the state of the city.”
“Has anyone heard from Dionysus?” Hades asked. The god was just as involved as he was with the underground and well known among this crowd, but everyone shook their head except Hermes.
“He came to me a few nights ago and asked for my sandals,” said Hermes, hesitating for a moment before he added, “He had some business on an island that belonged to Poseidon. I have not seen or heard from him since.”
Hades suspected there was more to that story Hermes did not wish to share with the group. As much as he hated it, they were going to have to use the tunnels. Maybe along the way, they would find a few survivors.
“I think it is a risk we must take,” said Hades grimly.
“Can we not…teleport them?” Persephone asked.
“If I do, I risk drawing the attention of my brother,” said Hades. “And I do not want any more casualties if I can help it.”
Someone chuckled, and Hades’s looked up to meet Ptolemeos’s gaze.
“What?” the mortal asked. “Does no one else find this ironic? The God of the Dead worrying over life?”
“If you knew him, you wouldn’t find it ironic,” Persephone snapped.
Madelia’s lips twitched, and Hades’s hand tightened on Persephone’s waist.
“So we empty the temples and Theseus has no one to sacrifice tomorrow. What then?” asked Jorn.
“I say we blow them up just as the demigods head inside,” said Leonidas.
“An explosion likely won’t harm them,” said Hermes. “For all we know, they are invincible like us.”
“You don’t seem to be all that invincible anymore,” Damianos pointed out.
Hermes glared. “I’ll show you invincible,” he muttered, crossing his arms over his chest.
“The point isn’t to harm them,” Damianos continued. “It is to catch them off guard. Then you attack.”
Hades didn’t like the idea of more destruction, but he knew it was inevitable. It was the cost of battle among the Divine.
Then Leonidas stood. “You can work out among the gods who will target who, but as far as our involvement, that is what we can offer.”
It was about what Hades expected, but it was enough. Between them, they should be able to empty the temples and get the mortals to safety.
“Fine,” said Hades. “We start now.”
And tomorrow, they would go to battle.
CHAPTER XXXV
PERSEPHONE
Hades departed with Ilias, Hermes, and Artemis to Dionysus’s tunnels while Persephone summoned help to prepare for the arrival of mortals at Nevernight. While Mekonnen guarded the doors, Adrian and Ezio pushed the couches against the wall so Sybil could make pallets on the floor. Leuce set up water and snack stations while Harmonia gathered supplies for babies and games for children. Hecate organized a medical station, and Persephone tried not to think long on why it was necessary, though the goddess was reassuring.
“When mortals are involved, you cannot be too careful,” she said. “They have all kinds of ailments.”
“Can we not just heal them?” Persephone asked.
“If it is a usual ache and pain, we must let it run its course,” Hecate said. “We are not miracle workers. You know our choice to heal can have grave consequences. That does not change, even in times of war.”
Upstairs, Hephaestus and Aphrodite arrived with weapons and armor. They had divided each kind between the suites—spears, axes, bows. The last room had swords, and it was the one Persephone decided to enter, though all this felt a little surreal.
She approached the table and picked up one of the blades. The design was simple but still beautiful, as were all Hephaestus’s creations.
The hilt was wrapped in leather, and the pommel and cross guard were smooth steel. She had never wielded a weapon before, so she was surprised by how light it was, though she supposed that made sense as they were usually carried in one hand.
“What do you think?”
Persephone jumped at the sound of Aphrodite’s voice and turned as the goddess strolled into the room.
“I can’t believe he managed to make so many,” said Persephone.
She returned the sword to the pile.
“This is all he ever does,” said Aphrodite. There was a note of disdain in her voice that Persephone decided to ignore. No one wanted Hephaestus to have to forge weapons like this.
“I hate that it was necessary,” she said.
“Me too,” Aphrodite said quietly.
“Are they to your liking?” Hephaestus asked.
Persephone was a little surprised by the sound of the god’s voice. It was not often she heard it, but she found it was quiet and pleasant, like the warm embers of a crackling fire.
She and Aphrodite turned to look at him.
“I feel as though you are asking me a trick question, Hephaestus,” Persephone said. “I am not sure what there is to like about war.”
He gave a polite nod. “Fair, Lady Persephone.”
“Am I right to assume that these are for…mortal soldiers?”
“Yes, Lady Persephone.”
“And are they…poisoned with Hydra venom?”
Hephaestus offered a single nod. “Yes, my lady.”
She let that sink in—the idea that thousands of mortals would be armed with weapons that could harm gods.
“Is that…a good idea?” she asked, though she imagined he and Hades had already had this discussion, weighed all the pros and cons. Still, it felt terribly frightening and horribly wrong.
“Theseus’s followers will be armed with the same. Hydra venom deals a quick death to mortals. It would be a far more devastating fight for us without them.”
She let that sink in before asking, “Where are our weapons?”
Hephaestus glanced at Aphrodite as he spoke, “I have entrusted your weapons to Hades for safekeeping.”
“Of course,” said Aphrodite. “Because obviously she is not capable and may impale herself.”
As much as she understood Aphrodite’s frustration, Persephone did not feel it was warranted here. She met Hephaestus’s gaze and offered a small smile, and for a moment, she could see the exhaustion in his face.
Her heart hurt for him.
“The weapons are poisoned with Hydra venom,” said Hephaestus. “I only wish to keep you safe.”
“I understand,” said Persephone quickly before they could spiral into a fight. “We have seen the damage Hydra venom can do. I have no wish to harm myself or others. In truth, I hope we never have to use them.”
When Persephone left the suites, she felt like she was carrying the weight of the thousands of weapons piled into the rooms behind her. Each one was a person, a soul, and she felt responsible for them all.
As she emerged from the lounge, there was a quiet roar from downstairs. People had already begun to arrive.
“The air smells like fear,” said Euryale, who stood guard at the doors of the lounge.
Persephone looked at the gorgon who was always dressed in white and blindfolded.
“New Athens is under siege,” said Persephone. “We are all afraid.”
“Even you, Lady Persephone?” Euryale asked.
“Can you not sense it?”
“Grief smells a lot like fear,” she said.
“Perhaps I grieve too,” said Persephone.
She walked to the top of the stairs to look out over the floor. It was strange to see Hades’s club transform from something secretive and sinful to a sanctuary for survival. Normally, it was crowded with the young or the desperate, not families. Men, women, and children huddled together while others paced, unable to sit still. A few children zipped through the crowd with glee, blissfully unaware of why and where they were, though most did look afraid.
It was the first time Persephone had witnessed Theseus’s impact on the mortal world, and these people were haunted. It occurred to her how this must feel to the Faithful—to the pious worshippers who said their prayers and made their sacrifices, who decorated altars and loved their gods. She had lost her friends, but they had lost their gods, and it felt like the very threads of their world were being torn apart.
Right now, they had no future.
A shriek brought her attention back to the floor below. More children had joined the game of chase, and another group arrived from the tunnels. This one was led by Hermes.
Persephone descended the stairs, making her way toward the god. As she did, one of the children who was running rammed into her. She placed a steadying hand on their shoulder.
“Oh,” she said and then knelt before the child. He was about four, if she had to guess, with wide, brown eyes and curly hair. “Are you okay?”
“Do not touch him, Goddess of Death!” a woman bellowed, wrenching the child away.
Persephone blanched, shocked by the woman’s reaction and words.
“You would do well to respect the Queen of the Dead within her home,” said Hermes, helping Persephone to her feet.
“Cora, stop!” A man joined the fray.
“Do not act as if you do not know,” the woman said. “As if you all do not know that this goddess has killed the Great Mother!”
The woman looked about wildly as if she might find support here, within Persephone’s territory.
But no one spoke. They all just stared.
“Cora,” her husband said, placing a commanding hand on her shoulder, but it was Persephone’s turn to speak. She took a step forward. The man and woman cowered, but the child held her gaze.
“Mortal woman, I will grant you more mercy than I showed my mother,” said Persephone. “But if you insult me again—with a simple thought or a spoken word—one day, you will beg for death, and she will never find you.”
“She will never speak ill upon your name again,” said the man. “I swear it.”