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She broke down in tears, crying into her hands, her head filled with flashing images of Gia – from their first meeting in the arena to their last kiss, which seemed to have been just minutes ago.

‘Her last moments, her last thoughts… I will never know them. How can I have not witnessed it? How can I have missed her?’

Gia would never hold her again, or laugh, or cup her cheek. They would not lie in bed together, their hair entwined. They would not touch or make love. They would make no more memories.

Their story was over.

‘If someone had to die for this, it should’ve been me,’ she said.

All that she had ever felt, and all that she had ever loved, was gone in an instant.

She had won the world, and she had lost the world.

It was all meaningless now, for even little Athena was broken by it, her love and courage coming undone.

Cassius looked to her, his face twisted in grief. Claudia braced for his rage but he held out a hand to her instead, pulling her close and holding her as they rocked back and forth.

‘It is my fault,’ she cried.

‘If not for you, she may already be buried under the destruction of Pompeii,’ he said. ‘You cannot control the path of a single arrow. You cannot control destiny.’

Gia was right there, and now she was gone.

‘She is with Mother now,’ said Cassius, his voice breaking.

‘There must be something we can do,’ said Venus, her face streaked by silvery tears.

‘Please.’ Claudia moved to her, clutching her hands. ‘You are goddesses. You created us. You made our world. You can bring her back. Just bring her back. I will do anything… anything.’

Everyone was crying now: Dido and Livia, Dom and Celadus. They moved close to her and Cassius, holding them without touching them, making space for her insurmountable grief.

Venus called the leafy-haired medicine goddess, Meditrina, who knelt down beside Gia. She gently touched her, as if she might revive her.

Claudia’s heart clamoured so hard she thought it might stop beating as hope swelled inside her unbearably, but Meditrina turned back and shook her head.

‘It is too late,’ she said. ‘She is already gone.’

‘No,’ Claudia screamed, tearing at her own robes in desperation.

‘I’m sorry, Empress,’ said the goddess.

‘No, you are wrong! You are all wrong!’ Claudia whirled around to face them. ‘I will go to the underworld and get her back. I have done it before. I will do it again.’ She ran towards the hole in the ground. ‘I must find Proserpina, and Invidia. They will help me, and…’

‘It is too late,’ said Proserpina, approaching. ‘Her soul has been weighed; the thread has been cut.’

‘Do not say that. You cannot say that,’ sobbed Claudia.

‘I’m so sorry.’

Claudia felt as small and as lost as she was when she was a child, clutching at her ugly doll while she listened to her father and brother laughing at her, her mother only recently gone.

Loss consumed her, rotting her stomach. If she’d had poison to hand, she would’ve swallowed it. Her eyes landed on the sword Gia had been carrying and she wished she was brave enough to spear her own heart.

It was too terrible to be believed.

Claudia shook her head stubbornly, unwilling to accept it.

‘If you could bring me back, why not her?’ she said.