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“A new immortal,” Persephone muttered. “Made with my magic.” It was enough of a violation to have her own shadow portal used against her, but the core of her godly magic materialized against her will. Persephone shuddered, thinking of the innocuous looking seeds. “Why would the Moirai foist a newly made immortal upon me?”
Hecate leaned her chin on her steepled fingers, her silver hair swaying around her cheeks. “An immortal has not been made in millennia.” She pinned her gaze on Persephone. “This all stinks of fate.”
“Meddling hags.” Persephone grumbled.
Thanatos stood and moved to stop Persephone’s pacing, grasping her shoulders in his sure grip.
“It can only be one thing,” he said. “The man was surrounded by death, even in life.” His Reaper form flickered for the briefest of moments. “He’s a new Reaper.”
Persephone shook her head. “It can’t be.” She thought of the words that rang out of her when she gave him the seeds, a script she hadn’t written. Had it all pointed to an eternity of reaping?
“Yes, it can,” Thanatos insisted. “The Moirai spin the future. The human world has been fragile since the Great War. Two reapers would cement your realm’s ability to handle any chaos in the coming decades.”
Stepping out of Thanatos’ hold, Persephone resumed pacing.
“That would be charitable,” she said skeptically.
“Nothing else makes sense,” Thanatos argued.
“In the days of old,” Hecate interrupted, “only heroes or favored mortals were gifted immortality.”
“He’s certainly no hero,” Thanatos scoffed. “Death clings to him almost as much as it does me.”
Persephone whirled. “He’s no favored mortal, either.”
Hecate raised her brows and Persephone avoided her gaze.
“Regardless of what he did in his mortal days, he’s immortal now,” Thanatos said, “and bound to this realm with your magic.” His head turned towards the far-off gates, as if sensing movement in the river at the realm’s entrance. “And now, he’s here.”
When she calmed her racing thoughts for a moment, she could feel the activity too, like a light
tapping on her realm’s doors.
“I’ll fetch him and bring him to the sitting room,” Thanatos announced. He nodded at Persephone and vanished in a shadow jump.
In the silence of Thanatos’ absence, Persephone’s anxiety increased. Hecate’s keen stare
burned, as if her eyes were twin torches.
“You know him,” Hecate stated calmly.
Persephone dropped into a nearby seat and sighed.
“Yes,” she admitted.
“He’s your warrior.”
“He’s not my anything,” Persephone said. “But he is the mortal who has called me through the ages.”
“As he called you today?”
“It was different this time,” Persephone told her. “But the soul couldn’t have had much time
to send the call with how quickly the Moirai shuttled me to him.”
“You two are connected,” Hecate said. “Have been for ages. It’s not a coincidence your warrior is the only human to receive immortal life from your seeds.”
“That’s what I fear.”
