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“Ours is a sacred duty. At least, it was.” Hades sighs. “But many gods want all the power of divinity, without any of the actual work. They want worship, and accolades, and followers. Sacrifices made in their names. And of course, for it to all fall into their hands like a ripe plum, without even having to pick the fruit themselves.”
The shadows of the room grow a little darker, dripping down from the ceiling, and I hug my arms to my torso, trying to hold off the sudden chill in the air.
Hades’ eyes look far away, like he’s not seeing me or the room we’re in any longer. “More and more fell, or just abandoned their duties. Some simply faded away, the way those who cannot die, but no longer posses the will to live, do. None rose to replace them, and so, the Underworld’s grip grew tighter on those who remained.” He smiles, grimly. The hair on the back of my neck prickles. “The Underworld, or the Gardens, they must have a master, Penelope. They can’t perform their duties on their own. So, when Ares came to the Fifth Garden, after it had been abandoned for so, so long, it latched onto him. It would not and will not release him.”
“It doesn’t matter that he doesn’t belong down here?”
Hades shakes his head. “War is close enough to Death that things continue to limp along.”
What a mess. When I first set out to save Janie, if someone told me I’d be feeling sorry, not only for the douche who took my sister, but for an entire realm of the Underworld, I would have either laughed myself sick or punched them, depending.
And damn my mother for setting this all into motion.
Hades stands then, dark fabric belling around him like ink in water. He offers me his hand. “Are you certain you won’t come with me?”
I don’t even think about it. I can’t give up like that, not now. Not when so many people are depending on me. It’s the same reason I won’t use Aphrodite’s diamond to flee back to Olympus like she wants me to.
“No.”
Hades sighs, his hand dropping back to his side. “What a shame.”
And then he’s gone.
I stand there for a minute, turning the whole conversation over and over in my head like it’s a stone I’m trying to worry smooth.
And then I reach up and grab the bronze wire pendant hanging around my throat.
“Rhiannon,” I say, grimly. “We need to talk.”
SEVEN
PEN
There’s a moment of hesitation, like maybe the ghost won’t come out.
Can you dodge someone’s call when you’re haunting a piece of their jewelry? I don’t want to find out. I’m in a serious time crunch, and in no mood for games.
Eventually, a sullen white mist pours free from the pendant, and Rhiannon takes form. She doesn’t meet my eyes for a second or so, tugging on the length of the braid draped over her shoulder.
When she finally glances at me, she must see something in my face, because she swallows. “Why have you called me?”
I cross my arms. “I want to know how you know so much about this level of the Underworld. I understand that you passed before the Gardens were conquered by the Fallen, but you never made it past the Fourth Garden. The Gate wouldn’t let you through. At least, that’s what you told me.”
She bites her lower lip, worrying it. “Why would I tell a falsehood about that?”
An excellent question.
“I’m not saying you’re lying about it. But you’re obviously not telling me the whole truth. If you never reached the Fifth Garden, how in hell do you know so much about it? About Arawn? That sort of information isn’t something you read, or hear through stories. You talked about him like you knew him personally.”
She won’t meet my eyes again, her hands worrying the fabric of her shroud.
I don’t have time for this. The gloves are coming off.
“Rhiannon.” I make my voice as firm as I can. “If you’re not honest with me, I’m not going to help you.”
She gives a jerky little nod. “I understand. And you’ve been more than fair. It’s just… well, the topic is rather personal.”
I wait, as patiently as I can with a clock ticking down and an axe over my neck.
