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Hephaestus’s eyes gleamed in the dark, a hint of the anger Hades could feel roiling inside him.
“We don’t know for certain. We believe she was walking her dog, Opal, when she was attacked and had just enough strength to teleport here. When she arrived, she was not conscious, and we have not been able to rouse her.”
It sounded similar to what had happened to Adonis. They’d both been alone when attacked and at night.
“Whoever did this will suffer,” Hermes said, his voice shaking with anger.
The problem with what happened here was twofold. Not only was Harmonia a goddess—someone of divine blood—but she was alsokind.
Persephone’s gaze moved from Hermes to Hades.
“Who is she?” she asked.
“My sister,” Aphrodite said, her voice was thickwith emotion. She sniffed and then took a breath as she whispered her name. “Harmonia.”
“Can you heal her?” Persephone asked him, and her question made his chest ache. She asked because he healed her often, but this was beyond what he could do. Harmonia’s injuries were far too numerous.
“No,” he said, feeling as though he was disappointing her somehow. Despite all his power, he was not all-powerful. “For this, we will need Apollo.”
“I never thought those words would come out of your mouth,” said Apollo, who appeared at Hades’s summons.
The God of Music had changed. Now he was dressed in armor, as if he were preparing for practicing or training, which wasn’t outside the realm of possibility considering the Panhellenic Games were approaching and Apollo oversaw training at the Palaestra of Delphi.
His smug expression soon fell when he caught sight of Harmonia.
“What happened?” he asked, striding forward and wedging himself between Aphrodite and Persephone.
“We do not know,” said Hermes.
“That’s why we summoned you,” Hades said.
Persephone’s brows lowered. “I…don’t understand. How would Apollo know what happened to Harmonia?”
It was an indication of how little Persephone knew about the gods and their power, and though not completely surprising, it worried Hades. He had years to study their many and varied powers, to learn what to anticipate if they battled—but not Persephone. She took their titles as an indication of their abilities, like many mortals.
“As I heal, I can view memories,” Apollo said. “I should be able to tap into her injuries and discover how she received them…and from who.”
Despite the pride with which Apollo spoke, the power of viewing memories could be dangerous. There was always the possibility that he would not be able to tell the difference in what he was seeing versus his reality, and if he believed he was being attacked, he could face the same outcome as Harmonia.
Persephone rose to her feet and took a step away. Hades wished she would come to his side. He wanted her near, if only for his own comfort, but she remained, watching Apollo as he placed his hands on Harmonia, gently brushing her hair from her face.
“Sweet Harmonia. Who did this to you?”
Apollo began to glow and so did Harmonia, and it wasn’t long before the god began to shake, his body convulsing as he viewed Harmonia’s memories.
Persephone couldn’t handle it, and she surged forward, pushing him away from the goddess.
“Apollo, stop!”
He fell back, catching himself before he splayed on the floor.
“Are you okay?” Persephone asked.
Apollo’s hand was under this nose, stained with crimson, but he looked at her and smiled. “Aw, Seph. You really do care.”
Despite the fact that Hades did not like Apollo having a nickname for his lover, he was glad for the comfort he attempted to offer.
Persephone was far too caring for her own good.
