She nodded toward Hades and said “I’ll be in touch” before vanishing, taking Theseus with her.
It was only after she left that Hades let himself stumble and then fall to the ground.
*
Hades came to consciousness, though he had yet to open his eyes. He took a moment to assess his body, recalling how his feet and skin had burned, how his face had ached and his knees had throbbed before everything had gone dark, but there was no pain, only a deep, hollow feeling—a complete and utter numbness that accompanied the horror of what he’d done.
The hydra, the Stymphalian birds.
But the worst was Heracles.
“He should be waking up now,” a voice said.
“Are you sure? He still looks green.” Hades recognized Hermes’s voice.
“I think that is the light,” the voice replied, still warm despite Hermes’s questioning.
Hades blinked open his eyes to find a young god staring down at him. He had wide, brown eyes, a mop of brown hair, and a matching beard.
Hades knew him.
“Paean,” he said.
The god offered a kind, genuine smile. “It is good to see you awake, Lord Hades.”
Paean was a minor god, but his role among the Olympians was great, as he was their healer on the rare occasion a god could be wounded.
Hades rose into a sitting position, body stiff and head spinning.
Paean pushed a mug into his hands. “Drink,” he said. “It is nectar.”
Hades took the mug and sipped the honeyed liquid as he took in his surroundings. He was in a small room with a single cot and a lamp. Paean
occupied the only chair in the room but quickly vacated it, speaking as he rose.
“You are fully healed, my lord. You may leave whenever you wish.”
“Thank you, Paean,” Hades said softly.
The healer offered a gentle smile and a nod before leaving the room, then Hades’s eyes shifted to Hermes, who looked very pale and very awkward pressed against the wall of the small room.
“Well, I must say,” Hermes said nervously, “that was the most dramatic fight night I have been to in a long while, wouldn’t you agree?”
Hades just stared.
“I mean, of course you couldn’t agree. You’ve never been,” Hermes continued, wringing his hands. “Let me tell you, though. I have never seen one so…bloody. Leave it to you to set a record.”
Hades did not wish to set records, and the comment only made him feel disgusted. A sickening twist tore at his stomach. He averted his eyes, ignoring Hermes’s incessant talking in favor of the greater conversation at hand.
“Theseus was with Hera,” Hades said, frowning as he recalled how they’d sat together in Hera’s box and conversed as if they were old allies. “Did you know?”
The God of Mischief looked affronted that Hades would ask such a question. “This was the first time I saw him here.”
“And how often are you here?” Hades countered.
Hermes seemed to shrink in on himself, as if realizing why Hades might not trust him in this moment when he admitted, “Every week.”
“Hmm.”
Hades had long suspected Theseus of plotting to overthrow the Olympians. Given the reason for his trials, he could not help wondering if perhaps Hera had formed some kind of alliance with the leader of Triad.
But why be so blatant about their partnership?
“What?” Hermes asked.
Hades looked at the god, arching a brow.
“What does ‘hmm’ mean? You do it all the time.”
Hades blinked, and Hermes continued. “Does it mean you don’t believe me? Or are you disappointed in me? Is it both?”
“It means I am thinking,” Hades said, though he’d have liked to not answer at all and let the god suffer, especially after the day he’d had.
“Oh,” Hermes said, and there was a beat of silence before he replied,
“Well, in that case, please continue.”
But Hades rose fully to his feet, downing the rest of the nectar Paean had given him. Once he was finished, he pushed the cup into Hermes’s hands and said, “Perhaps you would not be so defensive if you did not feel so guilty.”
To that, Hermes had nothing to say, so Hades vanished.
Chapter XVII
Iniquity
Hades had been summoned to Hera’s fight night nearly twelve hours ago, and though he’d been healed by Paean, he felt restless and uneasy. There was a kind of horror that thrummed through his body, a darkness he had yet to channel away. It was there when he blinked, in the form of bloodied rocks and crunching bone and the phantom pain of acid burning his skin.