‘He gave you a painting? I … right, okay.’
‘I guess he’s never had anyone to do that for before. He was probably excited,’ I say. ‘It’s a gorgeous painting.’
‘I’m sure.’ She gives me a look, one I can’t decipher.
‘I filled the halls with flowers in return,’ I say. ‘I wish I could give him something permanent to remember me by when I’m gone.’
‘Don’t talk about that,’ she scolds.
‘It’s true.’
‘I know but I don’t want reminding.’
‘Aww, you like me!’
‘Yeah and apparently I’m not the only one.’
I laugh. ‘Sure, he doesn’t even yell at me any more. He must like me.’
‘He shared secrets with you that most people have to swear an unbreakable oath to be privy to – he likes you.’
‘Yes, well, being at each other’s throats was beginning to get in the way of research.’
Styx sighs. ‘Whatever, dear. All I’m saying is that he doesn’t need anything to remember you by. He’s not going to be forgetting you in a hurry.’
Hades hovers over my shoulder while I take more notes on potential afterlives.
‘You think that’s paradise?’ he asks sceptically.
‘What? Why not?’ I turn to face him. ‘I loved it when it rained on Sicily – I’d go running out and play in the mud and –’
‘Because you’re a goddess! You had servants for –’
‘You have servants!’
‘Yes, and I am literally the king of Hell – kings get servants. My point is that many of those humans were not kings, andnone were goddesses. They probably died because they were out in the rain and caught a disease or something.’
‘How do you know?’
‘I’m the king of Hell. I mentioned this.’ Hades has gone from trying to annoy me into breaking xenia to annoying me simply because it’s fun. The worst part is that our growing familiarity means he knows precisely how to get under my skin. Actually, the worst part is that I think a part of me enjoys it. I go into our conversations like I have a point to prove, like beating him means something.
‘You’ve never even spoken to them!’
‘Of course not, but –’ he waves his hand – ‘I get the gist. And I’ve spoken to people who have, Charon and –’
‘You’re ridiculous.’
‘And you’re spoilt. You have to acknowledge that you’re in no position to know what humans want.’
That brings me up short because, damn it, he’s right. I’ve spent my whole life on an island with nymphs. I’ve never even met a live human.
I glance at the notes I’ve been taking. I’ve been so absorbed trying to work out what the weather cycles are like in lands outside Sicily that I never stopped to consider whether the humans actually like them, whatever they are. ‘We need to talk to them,’ I decide. ‘We’ve done all we can with notes. Come on, let’s go.’
I know it will be tiring, healing souls enough to talk to them, but it can’t be harder than creating a rift in the land itself. And now that my parents know where I am, it’s a risk I have to take. I might be hauled to Olympus at any moment – I’ll suffer the tiredness.
‘What?’ Hades scowls. ‘No, you talk to them. I’ll do all theresearch, as I suggested, and you can meet the people you’re designing an afterlife for.’
‘Come on, you’re supposed to be helping me.’
