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My hand falls to cradle her belly, and behind the lids I squeeze closed, the Moirai bestow up on me a vision that would bring me to my knees—if I wasn’t already there.

Tiny infants wrapped in quilts woven by the Moirai. One gold and one onyx. The tongueless sisters, for the first time since the beginning of time, stand outside their black mountain to witness the passing of souls from this realm into another.

Two leaves fall from the Elysian Tree to drift down the spiral of a breeze onto the still chests of my daughters. Persephone falls to her knees at their feet, her sobs echoing throughout the entirety of the realm. A sea of souls stands witness to a time that will change the trajectory of life as it is known withinallthe realms.

The Elysian Leaves glow, one veined in gold and the other in onyx as the souls of our children—our greatest sacrifice—risefrom the bodies of our daughters. The leaves burst into flames hotter than those in the core of the Pit, and they are gone.

The ancient notes of the tongueless Moirai sound strong in my mind.“You will see them again, King of Gods. We thank you for your sacrifice.”

Chapter

Nine

Persephone

I have yetto stand at the base of the black mountain, with intent to climb. From afar, the pathway up the black mountain appeared, although harrowing, stationary. The steep stone steps fixed in place, as anyone might expect.

Such is not the case.

I gape in horror at the stone that shifts now before my eyes. The pathways winding like a snake to the mouth of a cave so high up the mountain, its toothy upper lip is nearly masked by the rolling doom of a dark cloud that expunges even the glitter of everlasting night.

“It’s so dark.”

I don’t realize I’ve spoken the words until Hades responds beside me. “The black mountains are always under the cover of black clouds.”

“And the pathways shift,” I say, pointing to the slithering of stone over stone. I shiver. “Like snakes.”

“The path to the Moirai is different for everyone.” The displeasure in Hades’ voice is loud.

My head whips to the side to look at him. I’m pretty sure I’m scowling. “What do you mean?”

“Your path to the Moirai and mine will be different, little goddess.” He flashes a wry grin. “Second-guessing this visit yet?”

I steel my spine. Casting my gaze over the snaking trails, I mutter a tense, “No.”

“This is not necessary, my Persephone.”Hydra speaks softly in my mind. Her ancient wisdom gives me pause.“There are those who never return from this climb.”

I straighten my shoulders.“I’ll return from this climb. They need my daughters, remember?”

Silence is the only response I am given. I tip my head back again to glare up at the toothy mouth of the cave that looms in line with the cover of coal black clouds. There is no shine to the clouds that smear their cover across the peak that stretches between the realms.

Since telling Hades about the daughters I carry in my womb—and the other Gods of the Underworld learning of their conception,and fate—it’s become clear to me that I’ve always been a tool crafted by the Moirai in their long game of reformation of the hierarchy of Gods.

I have lived and lost and sacrificed for the plans of Fate. I think I deserve to know now what the end goal is. Now that the ultimate sacrifice is being demanded of me. Of us.

And I deserve a chance to—to speak with the Moirai and plead my case to raise my daughters.

I deserve this. And if it means climbing this damn mountain, then by Gods, I’ll do it.

I take a step onto the stone path that hovers before me and silently thank Hades for handing me the first pair of pants I’ve worn in the Underworld as I swallow a sharp yelp. The stone grinds and groans as it whips to the far left, away from Hades and Hydra. By the time I chance looking in their direction, I’mhorror-struck to find that they are tiny pinpricks of life way,waydown below.

My heart lurches in my chest and a curse slips from between my lips, dripping of the animosity I feel toward the three sisters that hide away in this protected mountain.

They are the reason for every pain I have suffered, and every pain I will suffer.

The path shifts again—the climb before me growing steeper and steeper until I’m hanging on with fingertips that ache. In my shoes, my toes curl to cling to the lip of a mountain step I am very aware may change anddrop meto my death.

“You want my daughters, you crazy bitches,” I gasp, clinging to stone that ripples with life. “If you let me die now, they’re gone. What then?”