Page 27 of Queen to the Sunless Court (Brides of Myth #2)

The Unexpected

Calliste

Hades wasn’t there when they returned through the portal to the same bare room, but Thanatos was, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. “And?” he asked.

“Very bad news,” Morpheus said, shaking his head. “We’ll go back to the terrace. Get Hades.”

Thanatos vanished while Morpheus led them back to the terrace behind the library.

Calliste walked to the balustrade, inhaling the fragrant Underworld air and focusing on Persephone’s garden to calm her chaotic thoughts and waiting for the dizziness to pass.

When they broke their moonstones, their return—a sudden tumble through the fabric of the Underworld—was startling in its instantaneity and left her nauseous.

When she glanced over her shoulder, Theron was seated on the reclining couch, his face buried in his hands. Either he was suffering from similar side-effects, or seeing Amatheia had unsettled him. Or both.

Soon enough, with Thanatos at his side, the Unseen One strode onto the terrace, his gaze sweeping from Theron to her, then to Morpheus, who sighed. “It’s Eris.”

Hades froze, fixing him with an incredulous look. “Eris?” Anger bristled in his voice like a thousand sharp blades as he swore under his breath. “Are you certain?”

“Yes. Calliste identified her.”

Calliste almost took a step back as Hades focused his attention on her. “How did you know?” he asked.

She exhaled. “I didn’t. It was a gamble.

I sorted through everything that had been happening since Kalias fell ill and realized that the closer I got to her, the more conflict I experienced.

She was sowing discord wherever she could: between me and Hypnos, you and Hypnos, between Theron and his court—anything to keep us busy squabbling instead of solving the matter.

On a larger scale, her interference with the Fates’ work is aimed at sowing discord between you and your brothers.

I had this idea and thought it best to confront her directly, to catch her unaware. ”

Hades stood still like a sculpture, gazing at Calliste in abstraction before blinking back to the present. “The gall.” His voice smoked; sparked.

“Why does it matter that it’s her?” Theron asked, rubbing his forehead wearily.

After a brief silence, Morpheus replied, “Eris has caused us trouble before, but never of this magnitude. She orchestrated a situation where each mishandled element could either lead to conflict with Olympus or risk awakening Erebus—”

“Sowing discord is her vile pastime,” Hades cut in, “but she’s getting too damn good. This is her most accomplished attempt yet. Pits of Tartarus, if she wanted to humiliate me, this is a masterpiece. Zeus would be here in an instant if he knew...” He stared at the floor, his eyes suddenly frantic.

“Hades?” Thanatos stepped closer to him.

The ruler of the Underworld lifted his gaze, his eyes blazing.

The air thickened with the bitter smell of smoke.

“Persephone.” His voice softened as he spoke her name.

“She’s in the mortal realm. Once the irregularities are obvious and catch Zeus’ attention, he might…

” His jaw clenched. “He might forbid her to return… to me.”

The god of death stilled. “He wouldn’t dare.”

“No?” Hades’ voice was dry and dangerous, like quicksand. Darkness thickened around him. “What makes you think so? Don’t you know him?”

As much as she liked Hades, the god glaring at Thanatos right now seemed like a whirling thunderstorm on the horizon, ready to obliterate everything in his path, making her shrink away at the tension boiling in the air.

Thankfully, Theron must have noticed her reaction, as he was already by her side, his warmth close and reassuring.

“If this comes to pass,” the god of death said in a soothing undertone, “we will address it.”

“If he threatens to separate her from me,” Hades said calmly, as the air around him darkened and chilled, the smell of scorched wood intensifying. “You know what I must do and that I won’t have a choice.”

Theron pulled Calliste close, his stance alert.

“Hades.” Thanatos’ voice flowed like Styx, dark and cold. “Go to your garden and cool your head.”

Hades shot him a glance and left the terrace, slamming the door behind him.

“This is…” Theron shook his head.

“A calamity,” Thanatos put in. “And Hades is right to worry about Persephone.”

“Why doesn’t he want Zeus to know?”

“Because he’s Hades.” Morpheus sighed. “He won’t ask for help or acknowledge any failure, knowing that Zeus would first ridicule and challenge him.

The egos at play here…” Gloom glazed his expression.

“I’m not certain how long we can keep it from Olympus, but we can’t hide it for long.

Eris is already keeping your son from his destiny, which is ultimately to rule your kingdom. ”

“My son is only seven summers old. He’s not going to rule it anytime soon.”

“True, but…” Morpheus paused, as if collecting his thoughts.

“He shouldn’t be asleep, either. Each day he sleeps he moves away from his destiny, even if only by a fraction, by not making choices that would lead him down the path he should walk.

This is how Eris has been straining the threads of the Fates.

And her goal is always the same: conflict and discord.

The bigger, the better. This time, she aims to orchestrate a conflict between Olympus and the Underworld. ”

A shiver ran down Calliste’s spine. “But Zeus and Hades are brothers...?”

Thanatos shook his head. “I’d say they were born from the same mother,” he remarked, a bitter smile twisting his lips. “Much like Eris is our sister.”

Calliste looked up at him. “She’s your sister?”

Thanatos crossed his arms. “Half-sister. We share the same mother, Nyx. But Eris has no father; she is our mother’s creation.”

“Oh… Is that why she said that the Underworld is rightfully hers, and she would take it back?”

Morpheus’ expression hardened. “It makes a deranged sense to her, doesn’t it? She has no legitimate claims to the Underworld, except for being the child of a primordial deity who was part of the Underworld before Hades became our ruler.”

Gods, this is too much. Suddenly, everything seemed far too tangled and too heavy, and Calliste leaned against Theron for comfort. “I worry about something else. The queen mentioned that Eris had been waiting for her at the gates of the Underworld. Could that be just a coincidence?”

“No,” Morpheus muttered. “It may well not be. If she already knew about her, it would mean that the queen has been part of her plan, which has likely been in motion for some time. What she did to execute it, I cannot guess.” He looked at his uncle.

“She may have spent years planning this—unfortunately, time is something she has in abundance.”

“And she claimed the Underworld is hers?” the god of death muttered.

“According to the queen, yes.” Morpheus glanced at the door and lowered his voice. “And that she’d prove Hades is weak, and that it wouldn’t take much to unravel our domain.”

“Bitch,” Thanatos muttered. “She knows exactly where to strike.”

“But why does she claim that?” Calliste asked.

After a long silence, Thanatos spoke. “When Hades took over the Underworld, he was well aware of being younger than most of us—my brother, the river-gods and goddesses, and me. He is essentially the youngest here, as Zeus and his court on Olympus are much younger than, say, the court of Helios. What she’s saying echoes what the gods who remember the times of the Titans have always thrown in his face. ”

“I cannot believe how well Eris has outmaneuvered us.” Morpheus rubbed the line between his brows.

“Hades is now in a place where he can’t admit to anyone outside his realm what has happened or that he’s powerless to do much about it.

” He pinched the bridge of his nose, his face tight and shadowed.

“And when Zeus discovers what’s happening here—which is inevitable—he’ll try to intervene or question Hades.

Who won’t comply. Zeus won’t tolerate being ignored and may use Persephone as his pawn. ”

Calliste remembered the endless busts of the Queen of the Underworld in the corridor and her garden, frozen in time. “And what might your lord do if this happens?”

The tense silence lingered as the immortals exchanged glances, until Thanatos answered. “Knowing Hades? He will gather every deity of the Underworld to storm Olympus.”

“And will you go?”

“Without question,” Morpheus replied, his serene expression gone.

“No. This is exactly what Eris wants.” Calliste clenched her fists. “We have to retrieve the coin, purge the queen of Eris again, and return what belongs to her.”

“This is the only course of action I can think of,” Morpheus replied.

“But you need to replenish your power and I hope three days will be enough—for that and to track down the coin in that time. I still feel it might not be.” He pinched the bridge of his nose again.

“I don’t have any better ideas. Let me guide you back to your realm. ”

***

As Morpheus led Calliste and Theron back to the small backyard where they had landed with Nocturne, she finally mustered the courage to ask, “Morpheus, a word in private?” She ignored Theron’s surprised glance and walked away with the god of visions until she was certain they were out of earshot.

“I know it might not be the best time...”

“Ask.”

The fragrant Underworld air suddenly seemed too heavy to breathe—or her throat was too tight. “It took me an embarrassingly long time to realize it was your name Leontia mentioned on the day I was supposed to vow to Epione, when Theron came to take me to Anthemos.”

“What is the question?”

“Do you remember sending me a prophetic dream?”

“A vision disguised as a dream, you mean?”

“If that’s what it was. I dreamed of what seemed like a future moment that hasn’t yet occurred. And it involves the king.”

Morpheus’ eyes glowed like the clearest sea under moonlight. “I sent you a vision that day, yes. But I cannot know if it left the Underworld through the Gates of Horn or the Gates of Ivory.”

“Oh… I don’t understand.”

“My visions leave the Underworld through either of these gates. If they pass through the Gates of Horn, the vision proves true. But if they fly through the Gates of Ivory, it becomes false.”

A hot disappointment flared in her chest, as if something dear had been stolen from her. “So, that vision might be just… a lie?”

“Even if it is true, you still haven’t made your decision.”

“What decision?” she asked, exasperated, her voice sharper than intended. “I don’t know what you’re talking about! Why are you always so cryptic, so unclear, so…” She heard the anger in her voice and didn’t recognize herself. “I’m sorry. I’m just—”

“Tired and frustrated,” Morpheus nudged her toward the door. “It’s a shame you must leave my realm like this again.” He sighed and walked to Nocturne, with her following his shadow.

***

Soon enough, they journeyed across the dark sky on Nocturne, pursued by dawn.

Theron held her close. He hadn’t spoken a word since they mounted, and now his palace sparkled on the horizon like rosy quartz in the morning light.

She couldn’t think of anything to say, either. The usual wave of tiredness was already claiming her, but she was also shaken. Some of what she’d heard from Eris had struck deep, causing a hairline crack she desperately wanted to stop.

Now that she had seen Amatheia and spoken to her, she couldn’t shake the impression that she and the deceased queen were similar in more ways than one: both married to men who didn’t love them and viewed them merely as means to an end.

The hardest part was coming to terms with the fact that, for another woman, that man was Theron.

But at the same time, piecing together Theron’s past and life—dark and bleak in aspects she never would have guessed—and seeing his marriage for what it truly was—a painful journey with his wife cursing him on her deathbed—made her heart ache.

And then, finding out that her cherished vision of being with Theron, even though she knew she shouldn’t hold onto it, might be nothing more than a false dream, left a bitter taste at the back of her throat. “Did she truly say she hated you as she passed away?”

“Indeed.”

His response was as dull as a stone, but if she cracked it open, she’d find despair and self-loathing, boiling beneath the surface.

“Is it your turn to hate me?” he continued in the same flat tone. “Now that you’ve met her and know that I married her without love and caused her so much pain? I’d rather you tell me now. It will make things simpler.”

“I don’t hate you,” she replied, pushing through her exhaustion. “But everything is tangled in my head right now.”

“I’m not surprised,” he said, his voice catching in a way that made her throat tight.

“Even though I knew I’d see her, I still don’t know what to make of it.

Yet. You can’t imagine how much I wish I could turn back time and refuse.

Save her life, spare myself a world of heartache, and wait. .. for you.”

His words struck Calliste like lightning, and her chest ached with a tingling, tight sensation.

There were no false notes in his crystalline tone. Given the chance, he would do just that.

“If you hadn’t married, we might have never met,” she noted, resting her forehead against his collarbone, grounding herself in his scent, in what was familiar, elusive as it was.

His arms tightened around her. “As long as you don’t hate me, I’ll wait. There would be no way back for me if you did, I know that much.”

Sleep weighed down her eyelids as she pressed closer. She wished she could have said more. The scales in her heart were suspended in a perfect balance, with so much on each side. One side held her duty, the other held him. Love was the only weight she could use.

But she could place it on only one scale.