Page 28

I am exhausted. Worse, I am afraid.

“Zeus has ended entire civilizations while less incensed.” Hermes looks up, his eyes filled with warning none of us can ignore.

Charon pushes off the wall where he stands close to the exit. He’s looking straight at me. I know he senses the secrets I keep when he demands soft and dangerously low, “We’ve watched the rise and fall of civilization, welcomed souls into the Underworld time and again after a season of his wrath. We have beenhelpless in the past to do anything but watch the destruction, so if we are helpless, why are we discussing it? If we are helpless, what does it matter?” Charon places both hands on the table as he pins his gaze to mine, seeking the truth I keep—the truth I’ve not yet processed. “Can we stop Zeus, Hades? Do we now have a power we’ve never possessed before?”

I do not move for long minutes. My mind races through all that I know, and all that I have not said. Finally, I speak, “Persephone is pregnant.”

The room is so quiet. Too quiet.

I look to the Gods and Nymphs who have been my closest family. Their faces are ashen. Thanatos’ words are little more than a whisper of breath. “What does this mean, Hades?”

“We have been to see the Moirai.”

Hypnos straightens in his chair. “You took her to them?”

“It was necessary.”

“They are?—”

I cut him off. “Not of this world.” When there is complete silence again, I repeat softer, “They are not of this world. The Moirai have a power the like we as Gods do not possess. They can see the path of fate, manipulate it, even.” I frown, thinking yet again of the claim that true power is in a connection of the realms that have always been divided. Connection in the way of consciousness.

We’re so divided, the path to such a future feels impossible.

The battle will be long and hard and wrought with loss, beginning with my own.

Minthe stands, drawing the gazes of those in the room. “I’m sorry. But you just said Persephone is pregnant?”

“She is, yes.”

“But—I meanhow?”

I raise a brow. “Do I really need to explain to you, Minthe, of all nymphs, how babies are made?”

She rolls her eyes and I smile weakly. I need the humor. Without it, I might just crumble under the weight of everything.

“As if.” Folding her arms over her chest, she thrusts a hip to the side in attitude that is pure Minthe. “All joking aside, Hades, you’re a God and she’s human.”

“I am aware.”

“Well, that hasn’t happened in—well, since—” She pauses, considers and exclaims, “It’s been a long time! And it’s not as if Zeus hasn’t tried.”

My gaze slides to Hermes. “Is Zeus still taking to the bed of human women?”

Hermes shakes his head. “He rarely leaves Olympus.”

“And the human women in Olympus?”

Hermes dips his chin. “Much to Hera’s disgrace, he does continue to entertain the women of Olympus.”

“But he has not sired a child with any of them?” I ask.

“It’s been thousands of years since a demigod was born, Hades.”

“This is going to change everything,” Thanatos mumbles, more to himself.

“It will,” I agree, again calling the eyes of my most trusted confidants to me. “My daughters will change everything.”

“Daughters?” Hecate’s eyes narrow. It’s the first time she’s spoken. She’s always been an observer. “Two?”