“Hephaestus,” Hades nodded, looking at the metal and wires scattered across his table. Despite already knowing what these pieces were for, he asked, “What are you working on?”
“Nothing,” the god said quickly.
It did not surprise Hades that Hephaestus would keep quiet about his work. He had never been chatty, but after his exile and the scrutiny he had faced from other gods due to his scarred face and disability, he had become even more quiet.
“It cannot be nothing,” Hades said. “It does not look like nothing.”
Hephaestus blinked at the god and then answered, “A project.” He cleared his throat. “What can I do for you?”
Hades averted his eyes, looking around the room as he spoke. “I need your expertise. I need a weapon. One that will subdue violence and encourage truth.”
Hephaestus offered a hint of a smile. “Sounds like a riddle,” he said.
“You haven’t heard the last part,” Hades said. “It’s for an Olympian.”
Hephaestus raised a brow, but just as Hades suspected, the God of Fire did not ask questions.
“I can create something,” he said. “Come back in a day.”
There was silence for a moment, and then Hades said, “You know Aphrodite spies on you.”
Hades felt like a gossip. He was not sure why he was telling Hephaestus about Aphrodite’s secret. Maybe he felt like it was revenge for her bargain. Maybe he was hopeful it would encourage conversation between them, except that Hephaestus did not react to the news, his expression passive, disinterested.
“She is suspicious,” he said.
“Or curious,” Hades countered, because it was true.
“I suppose she can be both,” he replied, turning his back on Hades and focusing again on his work. Hades waited despite the silence, and finally, Hephaestus spoke in a quiet, coarse voice.
“She asked Zeus for a divorce. He will not grant it.”
“Is that what you want?” Hades asked. “A divorce?”
He watched the god’s profile—the way his jaw clenched and his fingers curled at the sound of the word. The God of Fire looked at Hades then, his brows drawn together, and there was a sincerity within his eyes Hades had never perceived before.
“I want her to be happy.”
***
Hades appeared at the center of a perfectly green meadow on the island of Sicily, where fifty pure-white cows grazed. A few feet away, Helios’s daughters, Phaethusa and Lampetie, slept beneath a fig tree, their wheezing breaths disrupting the silence of the night.
Hades had to admit, he felt a little guilty that these two would incur Helios’ wrath come morning, but not enough to leave their father unpunished for his vitriol.
Just as Hades began to select the best of Helios’ cattle to take with him to the Underworld, his phone rang.
It never rang.
Something is wrong.
“Yes?” he answered quickly, despite the chance he would wake the two sisters.
It was Ilias.
“My lord,” he said. “Lady Persephone is missing.”
He had never felt such a terrifying sense of dread. A thousand emotions converged upon him at once—rage and fear and alarm. He wanted to demand to know why Ilias had not watched her better, wanted to know where he had looked, wanted to threaten to end his life if he found her in any condition other than pristine.
But he knew Ilias, and by now, he knew Persephone.
Beautiful, defiant Persephone.
She was not one to obey, especially when told.
“I will be there in seconds,” Hades replied and hung up.
There was a beat of silence where Hades wrestled with every demon inside him. This fear was irrational, but it told him something important.
If the Fates did take her away, the world would not survive.
After a moment, he looked up, observing the white cows and spoke.
“I had hoped to take my time selecting only the best of you to join me in my realm, but it seems I am out of time.”
When Hades vanished, so did every cow in the meadow.
CHAPTER IX – A GAME OF FEAR & FURY
As soon as Hades’ feet touched Underworld soil, he could sense Persephone. Her presence in his realm was like an extension of himself. It weighted on his chest just as heavily as the thread that connected them.
He teleported again and appeared in the Fields of Mourning, where shoots of white gladioli and orchids grew. The Fields were once reserved for those who had wasted their lives on unrequited love. It had been one of the decisions Hades had made early in his reign and was born from his anger toward the Fates. If he was not destined to love, then he would punish those who had died because of it. He had since sent the souls who once resided here to other parts of the Underworld, letting the field remain beautifully landscaped, as it was the view the souls were treated to on their way to the Field of Judgement.