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“What about Andros’ soul?” Divina inserted, her worry and fear so palpable, Ere felt it clench around his own heart.
“Which soul wouldyoulike to trade for your Mate’s?” Hades questioned her.
His smile curled blacker at the edges as he pinned Divina with his stare.
“You can always join him here, feather dragon,” the god practically purred.
“I can assure you both a place in Elysium. You will always be together. No pain, no worries. Just peace and calm. It is the best kind of life after death. A life of your wildest imagination. Whatever you wish to do together. Whoever you wish to be…”
“Divina,” Ere warned, when he saw his friend consider Hades’ words.
The gods always lied. There was never any guarantee. Who was to say there was a blessed afterlife? How would any of them know?
“Peace and calm,” Divina repeated quietly, mulling over the words. “It sounds like we wouldn’tfeelany more. It sounds like an illusion. We wouldn’t bealive.”
“No,” Hades agreed, baring his teeth.
“You would be very muchdead. That is the point, after all.”
“No thank you,” Divina replied firmly, with an emphatic shake of her head.
“Then offer me another soul,” Hades retorted impatiently, his face a stoic mask once more.
“I grow weary of this back and forth.”
Chewie barked once, loudly, sitting upright on the throne, staring at the imposing god, no longer panting or wagging his tail.
“No, baby!” Divina cried, rushing forward before Cerberus’ threatening growl halted her abruptly.
“You can’t have him!” she shouted at Hades.
The god bore into her with his paralyzing stare.
“Too late. He has offered to make the trade. I accept. Now bring me the fleece before I change my mind.”
A resonant strumming of strings enveloped them, though Ere didn’t see anyone playing the instrument. All at once, he, Sorin and Divina were no longer in the Underworld. Instead, they stood beneath a noonday sun on an island of some sort. A heavy, gold lyre appeared in Ere’s arms.
But that wasn’t the most jarring aspect of their sudden change in circumstances.
The ugly, scaly, giant serpent hissing at them from the gnarled tree it was wrapped around took all of their attention. That, and the skeletal fists that punched through the ground they stood upon.
Those fists were followed by elbows and torsos as undead soldiers clawed their way out of the loosened dirt. Until a dozen of them lined up with weapons drawn in front of the snake and its tree.
At the top of the tree, hanging on a leafless branch, was the fabled golden fleece.
