He found Dionysus sitting at the very front of the orchestra. The seats to his left and right were empty, likely a request he’d made so that he could sit
alone.
Hades approached and took a seat beside him. Dionysus kept his gaze on the performance as he spoke. “Have you come to tell me the Graeae are dead?”
“I assumed you would know by now,” Hades said. “Seems I was right.”
Dionysus did not offer any information on how he had found out, but Hades guessed that one of his maenads had spied Ilias handling the situation and communicated their discoveries.
There was silence between them, though all around, the performance continued and the crowd reacted, laughing and cheering.
“I don’t understand,” Dionysus said at last.
“Don’t you?” Hades countered.
It was the first time the God of the Vine looked at him. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“The Graeae were just as much a weapon as the secrets they kept,” Hades said. “It’s clear whoever killed them preferred to sacrifice their use rather than allow the power to fall into our hands.”
“You keep saying ‘our,’” Dionysus pointed out. “We are not on the same side.”
“Then what side are you on?”
Hades never thought he’d feel any kind of way about Dionysus’s allies until now, and he had to admit, he hoped that he’d align with him.
Though, he did not know what it meant to take sides yet. All he knew was that someone—potentially Hera and Theseus—was learning to kill the divine. The divide was complicated. Aligning against them seemed to mean siding with Zeus, which was not something Hades particularly wanted.
“I am on my own side,” Dionysus said.
As much as Hades respected that, this was not a situation where being neutral would work.
“You realize the death of the Graeae means more than the loss of Medusa,” Hades said. “It means that someone has found a way to kill us.”
“Then it sounds like I need to be on their side,” Dionysus said.
Hades’s lips flattened. “Is that your plan?” he asked, then tilted his head.
“I wouldn’t have thought you’d be the first to kneel.”
Dionysus’s jaw tightened. “This isn’t about submission, Hades. It’s about lying low until the opportune moment.”
“And what moment is that, Dionysus? When everyone stronger than you is dead?”
“You’re not very strong if you’re dead.”
They were quiet for a few moments before Hades said, “I’ve never really liked you.”
“Nor I you.”
“But I respected you because I thought you were a protector.” Hades thought about all the women he’d pulled out of harmful situations, how he had trained them to protect themselves. He had helped them take back their power, yet here he would let the Graeae’s deaths go unavenged. He would hide. He was a coward. “Turns out, you are…but only of your own interests.”
He noted how Dionysus swallowed at his comment, and Hades rose to his feet.
“I am not saying choose a side,” Hades said at last. “I’m telling you to choose allies. This is not a war that will see any of us unpunished.”
With that, he left the theater.
*
It was late when he returned to the Underworld and found his bed empty.
He had not expected to find Persephone there, but it reminded him of how they parted and made his chest feel like an open chasm. Despite this, he
tried to sleep, but all he saw when he closed his eyes was her on the floor before him, sobbing and bleeding.
I don’t know how to lose someone, Hades, she’d said, and as much as he knew what that was like, he realized he didn’t know how to lose her, but that was exactly what was happening. The ironic part was that all he’d been doing this whole time was fighting to keep her—or at least the possibility of their future together.
He must have fallen asleep eventually, because he woke later with a pounding headache. His mouth felt dry and his tongue swollen. He stumbled out of bed and poured himself a drink, but before he could take a sip, a strange feeling straightened his spine, and an unnerving silence blanketed the room. He set his glass down with a click and headed for the balcony, summoning his clothes as he did.
In the distance, beyond the mountainous peaks of Tartarus, the gray sky had begun to whirl and rumble.
The Fates were angry.
What the fuck had happened?
He started to teleport as dread gathered heavily in his stomach, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him. He turned to find a pale-faced Thanatos.