‘Doubtful.’
I take a sip of water. It would be so easy to fight, to argue or to irritate him further, but I’m not sure what loopholes exist within xenia and I don’t need to give him cause to search them out. Maybe he’ll calm down in a day or two. If I’m as unobtrusive as possible, he might forget I forced his hand. He rolls his parchment up angrily. ‘You were quite happy snarling at me yesterday. And today you have nothing to say?’
If he wants a reaction, I could give him one …
‘I was scared yesterday,’ I say instead. ‘As you so rightly pointed out, I’d have to be desperate to be here. No one runs to Hell if they have other options. I’m sorry to put you in this position, truly.’
Hades stares at me and I do my best to look as sincere as possible. I suppose I amslightlysorry to inconvenience him.
No, actually, I don’t think I am.
If he doesn’t want to help someone in my position then he deserves much worse than an unwanted guest under his roof. The Underworld’s famed river of fire springs to mind.
But I don’t want to provoke him. I can hate him quietly, I’m sure.
‘I don’t know why you’re really here,’ he says. ‘But, whatever the reason, I suspect you’ll be sorely disappointed.’
I clutch the table to stop myself from cursing. What does he think I’m doing here, if it isn’t escaping an unwanted marriage? Is being scared and hopeless so unbelievable?
‘You’re free to roam the halls but you won’t find anything of interest,’ he says. ‘So, by all means, stay in this palace, enjoy my hospitality. But leave me alone.’
I don’t know why he thinks I’d be so desperate to be in hiscompany. Has he met himself? He can’t think this is anyone’s first choice.
But I nod. ‘If that’s what you wish.’
He glares one final time and leaves the room. When his heavy footsteps sound far enough away, I sigh and my eyes catch on the food on the table. I realize there’s no one to deny me second portions here.
I’m not sure it’s enough to make all this worth it, but it’s a start.
IT’S EASIER TO THINK WITHa full stomach but it’s not enough to unravel the mess I’ve found myself in. Hell is not a permanent solution. I have mere days before my parents return to Sicily and realize I’m gone. It might take them longer to realize where I am but theywillrealize. If I figured out the Underworld was the only realm I could hide in, eventually they’ll work it out too. And Hades might have sworn not to tell anyone, but that doesn’t mean he’ll stop them dragging me back to the surface when they inevitably come for me.
I had hoped that when I left the island things would become clearer, that maybe I’d step foot in this palace and think of an escape. I’d work out a way towards the life I want. Or, at the very least, I’d work out what that life is, rather than what it isn’t.
Instead I have a moody king trying to provoke a fight at breakfast and the promise of wind nymphs with art supplies.
I’d love nothing more than to go back to bed and contemplate the many ways I’m screwed, not least because I hardly slept last night and I’m exhausted, but I don’t have time to waste.
I have a week at most. Which on some level is all I am looking for – a bit of extra time. But, here it is, my extra time, and I have no idea what to do with it. There are two options, I suppose: use this week to figure out how to be free forever – unlikely, given my lifetime of ruminating on the matter has provided no solution; or enjoy a final week of freedom – real freedom, no Mother scolding my uncouth behaviour, no nymphs reporting to her – before they haul me back to the surface, back to Olympus, and down an aisle.
One week of freedom. I could see anything, go anywhere. Only of course I can’t because my parents would find me or someone far worse would. Unless I explored the Underworld. Are there places to see here? I know there are at least rivers – the Underworld is famous for them. A river of hate, one of pain, of fire, of forgetfulness, of screams … The last sort of thing a nice young girl would want to see, and yet I long for the sight of them, for the sight of anything new.
Beneath it all, I ache for something else. It takes me a moment to recognize what I’m yearning for because, in my whole life, I’ve never been away from them: flowers.
I could laugh. Of course that’s what I want. Although, thanks to Father binding my life to them, it’s less a want than a need – a hunger.
I rise from the table and go in search of the front door to the palace. I can’t really remember the layout of Olympus from my amphidromia. I remember the big palace doors and the arching gates to the megaron with its blazing hearth and towering throne, but I can’t recall the path between the two. Still, there are only so many places a front door could be.
Hades told me not to go outside but I’m willing to take therisk. He might have only barred his court from the palace, not the realm, so there’s a chance someone might see me and report back to my parents – but I’d take a day discovering this new land over a week locked behind its doors.
I take mental notes of the layout of the palace as I walk. I used to run around my island making maps of everything I found. I wanted so badly to be an explorer, to find new lands, meet new people, see new flowers. I forced the nymphs to bash sticks against mine and pretend they were swords, to teach me words from languages they’d heard from the wind and ocean nymphs who’d brushed against our shores before leaving again as quickly as they’d come.
Perhaps this week I can live like that dream is possible, even if the Underworld is only a tiny sliver of all I want to see.
Eventually I find what must be the front doors. They’re three storeys tall with huge golden hoops for handles. I have to lean my whole body against the weight of one to push it open. As I do it reveals more darkness.
I step out, a bitter, acrid smell burning in my nostrils, the ground crunching loudly beneath me. There’s no sun, nowhere at all for light to come from – but despite that I can see grass stretching for miles, burned brown and spun like thread. I crouch to touch it and it crumbles to dust beneath my fingers.
Interesting.
