Page 85 of A Crown of Hopes and Sorrows

I wouldn’t give into that.

I’d follow the plan we had crafted and see Epiphany safe if it was the last action I took on this earth.

The ground trembled, and everyone stopped speaking, heads snapping up. A woman that had to be Hecate from the description Temi had given me stood glowing in a torch's illumination, a snake slithering over her shoulders. I took a step back. I knew I’d been around Apollo and Temi, and they were deities. But this was different. Hecate seeped power, and darkness emanated from her. She looked like the wrathful deities parents told their children about in hushed bedtime stories. Suddenly I felt like a child, extremely mortal and incapable of standing against what all we’d stumbled into.

And Hecate hadn’t come alone. Next to her loomed a woman with heavy scarlet lips that reflected the orange of the light and a dark crown perched on her head, the sunset haloing her hair.

Sappho bowed. “Hecate, Persephone. It’s an honor.”

Persephone.

Queen of the underworld.

Holy shit.

My heart gave a painful lurch, and a tremble stole down me. My brain struggled to come up with words. I stood before two of the most powerful goddesses in the world. I’d never imagined I would meet an ascended god. Much less, Persephone. The only mortals who met with deities were people like Hyacinth and his father—princes and kings. I wondered if he felt the same root of insecurity that I did when he’d been before them. But he’d had time to mentally prepare, at least. I stood here, the only regular mortal on this beach, staring at deities I had scarcely imagined previously.

Hecate kept Sappho’s gaze for a moment before shifting to Temi. “You called?”

“We need your help.”

Hecate frowned but listened as Temi explained the situation and our plan. She took a deep breath, pressing her fingertips together. “Which mortal would require veiling?”

For a moment I wanted to disappear, to walk back up the beach and into the stables where I belonged. I was no adventurer longing for escapades. In fact, I was the opposite.

But it was Epiphany.

I stepped forward on unsteady legs. “Me.”

Hecate and Persephone studied me, their dark eyes and smooth flesh silvery in the moon’s light. Persephone grazed her fingers over Hecate’s arm, gently. It reminded me of every time I’d touched Epiphany’s skin, a brush of fingers, a grazing of arms when interacting with the horses, her hand squeezing mine.

I’d lived for these interactions, like an addict who sought a hit of something they couldn’t afford. Taking small doses that only made the desire grow.

Hecate broke into my thoughts. “Do you fear Hera, mortal?”

The salty breeze whipped over the sweat that had broken out on my forehead, and the ocean’s crashing spray thundered between us. “I have never been more afraid. But Epiphany is over there, and I would face anything to save her.”

She hesitated for three more heartbeats, looking at me as though she could perceive my soul. “Very well. Persephone?”

I sucked in a breath that ached at my lungs. The queen of the underworld was going to transfer her magic to me? Once again, I felt like I’d tumbled into a folktale. This couldn’t be real.

Persephone nodded. “I’ll transfer my divinity to you temporarily. The veil will differ from the one Artemis bore.” She inclined her head to Temi. “Hera will not perceive you at all.”

Hecate’s gaze shifted to the panthers. “And I’ll use my powers to create more shadows for your shifters to disappear into.”

“Do you worry,” Temi said, “to get involved with Hera?”

Persephone and Hecate exchanged a look. “No,” Persephone answered, her eyes darkening. “Hera thinks herself the most powerful. She’s a fool. And she should worry about getting involved with me. Especially as I was dragged”—she side-eyed Hecate who gave her the edge of a smile, their gazes lingering on each other—“from my bed over her nonsense.”

Our strange party of magical creatures, goddesses, Temi, and I all boarded a boat and sailed across the dark waters. Hecate drew on the power of the moon—murmuring to Temi as she did so—to use the waves to compel us forward.

As we reached the island, a slash of sharp, mangled ebony shapes that splattered over the navy expanse of the sky, Hecate approached me again. I steeled myself, but a tremble still ran down my arms.

I don’t know how the hell I got caught up in gods and wars and prophecies like this. My whole life my greatest hope had been my father’s acknowledgement, rising to that station, and—a painful wish I knew would never come to fruition—being worthy of courting Epiphany.

Now I stood surrounded by deities marching onto an island full of monsters in opposition to the queen goddess. But Epiphany was worth it. Finding her and ensuring that she was safe was the only thing that mattered in the world to me.

Hecate uncurled her fingers, a glowing light tied with a leather cord draping over her palm. “Here.”