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“Come forward.” Hades’s voice boomed through the hall, rattling not only the hanging bones but the ones inside me as well.
I didn’t realize I had whimpered in pain until the sound was already out. Leo instinctively put his arm around me, holding me up. I did my best to make it seem like I could manage okay on my own, but I was grateful he was there. Nothing was less intimidating than pretending to be a hero and falling face first onto a floor because my legs were made of Jell-O.
Not all gods had such commanding voices. Hades reminded me of Seth, the way his words would not be confused for anything said by mortal men. It was as if he were scratching each sentence directly onto my brain, every word hurt, and he wasn’t even yelling yet.
I tried to imagine him when he was angry, and my brain almost shut down.
Seth was frightening enough when a bad mood struck. The god of the underworld could probably make my head explode with one well-phrased couplet.
My contrarian personality wanted to stay put, but the more dominant part of me that actually wanted to live long enough to see sunshine again obeyed the command. I moved forward with slow, calculated steps. Anything faster would have betrayed how hurt I was, and I was hoping to show as little weakness as possible.
They’d never respect me, but I might amuse them enough to give Leo and me a chanc
e. If they thought of me as an insect with broken limbs, it would be much easier for them to crush me under their heels. I needed to remind them I was human, and destined, and there were rules in place that should be upheld, even if their whims swayed the opposite direction.
My brain was working in high gear, trying to come up with a plan that might remotely work. I had some ideas—all bad—but everything hinged on whatever Hades and Manea had to say for themselves now.
Leo and I reached the throne platform after what felt like a ten-mile walk. Manea continued to smile at me with the kind of grim determination of a shopkeeper intent on selling me something I didn’t want. Her gaze traveled to Leo, and the expression shifted noticeably.
“Son of Seth.” In contrast to Hades’s booming voice, Manea’s was soft, like a whisper. It sent chills down my spine. Though her intonation lacked the snakelike sibilance of Mormo’s words, there was something eerier about her tone. It reminded me of wind blowing over ice. Like all empathy or warmth was gone from the room and I’d never feel whole or loved again.
A creeping chill settled in my veins, and I pulled my jacket tighter around me. In spite of the hot, billowing towers of flame outside, I was suddenly freezing.
“Hello,” Leo replied, meeting her gaze directly and not shrinking back from it.
“Do you know who I am?” she asked, like she already knew what she expected the answer to be.
“The evil queen from Frozen?” He smirked a little, the expression there and gone so quickly I might have been the only one to notice it.
I fought my natural urge to facepalm. “Leo.” Giving my head a stern shake, I glared steadily at him. “Not now.”
“No, no, Rain Chaser. He is the son of a god. If he feels so entitled to speak to me in such a way, that is his birthright.” Her smile was tight and forced. If she was actually okay with Leo calling her Princess Elsa, I would eat my own leg right here and now.
What I didn’t understand was why she was bothering to feign politeness to him at all. Her whole mission had been to kill him in order to piss off Seth. So why not try, now that he was here and relatively unprotected?
What were these two up to? Gods usually did what they wanted when they wanted. All these subversive machinations weren’t their style.
The goddess regarded Leo before speaking again. “I am Manea. Some know me as Freyja, Kalma, or Anput. I have a hundred names and a hundred faces.” With each new name she spoke, her form shimmered and changed slightly, showing her as her worshippers saw her. She could be horrific and monstrous, or beautiful and wondrous. Every version was equally awe striking, but she returned to the Manea face at the end, as if wearing it was like a favorite dress that she slipped into most comfortably. “I am the goddess of death.”
“Leo Marquette.” He introduced himself to her like it were the most normal thing in the world to be exchanging names with a deity.
Strange how only a day earlier he’d seemed so thrown off kilter by the idea of having a god for a parent, and now he looked perfectly at home among them. Was he faking it, or was his earlier uncertainty the lie?
I’d convinced myself Leo was trustworthy—in spite of his criminal dalliances—and now I felt like an idiot for not heeding my own advice.
Don’t trust anyone.
“Leo, do you know why I’ve brought you here?” Manea idly stroked Hades’s hair, twisting the dark strands like black ribbon around her fingers. She didn’t look homicidal, she looked…bored.
“Tallulah wasn’t forthcoming on the details, but I kind of put two and two together and figured you wanted to kill me.”
Another exchange of thin smiles passed between them.
This was the most peculiar thing, a standard chitchat, only we were in the underworld and the gods had us exactly where they wanted us.
“I want to punish your father,” Manea said matter-of-factly. “He had his pet human steal something from me, and I’m not pleased.” Her glare settled on me, like I’d peed on her carpet. “Since she no longer has the item, I don’t foresee that I’ll be getting it back any time soon. Such a disappointment. I liked it a great deal.”
I thought of what Sido had told me about who the skull belonged to. It must have been one of Seth’s other children, long, long ago. “You’re not getting a replacement from him.” I put my hand protectively on Leo’s arm, even though he was beyond needing my assistance. I couldn’t keep the growl of warning out of my voice no matter how calm I tried to stay.
