“Brother,” Zeus boomed. “To what do I owe this great honor?”
“I have brought you something,” Hades said, though as he reached into his pocket to retrieve the box that held the eye of the Graeae, his stomach knotted. There was a part of him that wanted to hold on to the eye, but a greater part of him needed this leverage for his future with Persephone.
While Hades was still not certain how the eye worked—or even if the vision it had shown him was true—giving Zeus anything with relative power made him anxious. Not to mention the eye was sentient. Would it resent him for this exchange? Would it retaliate by showing Zeus something that would destroy his whole world?
As Hades handed Zeus the box, he said, “I fear I have bad news to accompany it. I found the Graeae dead. They were killed by a hydra blood–
tipped blade. I fear it may be the first of many attempts on the lives of the Divine.”
Zeus stared down at the open, black box before snapping it shut and resting his hands atop the club.
“Who was responsible?”
“I suspect this is the work of Triad.”
Zeus did not speak, but Hades knew how he felt about the organization of Impious. As much as he hated them, he did not see them as a true threat.
“We should call Council,” Hades suggested.
“No,” Zeus said suddenly.
Hades glared. “No? You’ve called Council for less.”
Including Helios’s cows.
“For what purpose would I call Council?”
“To warn other gods,” Hades said, angry.
“The Graeae were blind,” Zeus said. “They were at a disadvantage. You do not honestly think another god could fall prey to this parlor trick?”
“Parlor trick? The Graeae are dead, Zeus.”
Hades did not know how often he would need to say this before Zeus understood. The Graeae—Divine beings—had been murdered.
“You cannot honestly think Triad will stop with these three deaths? They will try again, and they will seek more ways to replicate what they’ve done.”
“And who will they target next? Hephaestus, perhaps? Aphrodite will likely thank them.”
Hades ground his teeth until his jaw popped. “So this is your response? To the death of deities?”
Hades usually operated without expectation of his brother, but he had failed to do so here. He had thought the King of the Gods, the one responsible for the well-being of everyone and everything on Earth, would be appalled by the death of the Graeae. Instead, he seemed to think Triad had somehow granted a kindness to the three sisters.
Zeus looked at Hades and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Do not worry, Brother. If it were you, I’d call Council in an instant.”
Hades imagined that was meant to be some kind of compliment and shoved his brother’s hand away.
“Action doesn’t matter once you’re dead, Zeus.”
“If deities are dying, then perhaps they have no business being Divine,”
Zeus replied, once more returning to his practice—widening his feet, gripping his club, and manifesting a white ball. He swung and hit the ball with a crack that echoed through the air, shielding his eyes to see how far it flew, but it was already out of sight. Hades wanted to tell him he was supposed to aim for the red flag in the distance, but he had a feeling his brother had decided to play differently—especially when he could not play right.
“It’s survival of the fittest, Hades,” Zeus said at last. “Always has been, always will be.”
Chapter XXVII
A Proposal
Hades left Olympia for Nevernight. The only thing that quelled his frustration toward his brother was thinking about what he had planned for Persephone this evening. He’d decided to show her a little more of the Underworld and, in the process, himself. He hoped it would be healing and perhaps lay a foundation so that he could share more things—harder things —but those thoughts were put on hold as he appeared on the floor of Nevernight and knew he was not alone.
Hera.
He turned to face the goddess.
“Hades,” she purred.
“No,” Hades said.
He was done with her and her labors. The goddess looked stunned for a second before her cheeks grew flushed with anger.
“You forget you are under my control,” she said. “I decide your future with your beloved Persephone.”
“I would think carefully on how you decide my fate, Hera,” Hades said.
“Because I decide yours.”
She blanched. “What do you mean?”