86
Show Me Who You Are
I say what I have to say, then stay on the rooftop while the other champions return to Olympus. After they’ve gone, I drop to sit on one of the comfy couches and draw my knees up to my chest, wrapping my arms around them and staring sightlessly out over Erebos.
A shiver steals up my spine.
Not because of the breeze that ruffles my hair. It’s perfect here. But because I don’t know if I just handed my enemies a weapon against me…or not.
I gave them until tomorrow to think about my proposal.
“How did they take it?”
I jump a little at Hades’ voice but don’t turn my head. “Hard to say.”
He comes around to sit on the cushioned ottoman facing me, with his elbows propped on his knees. “You told them that I would swear on the River Styx to honor my part?”
I nod.
His part. This was all my idea, or the Daemones would be down here ripping him a new one.
He promised me that if I win and he is made the King of the Gods, he will make sure all those who’ve perished in the Crucible will be given a choice. They can either be given a home in Elysium or, if they choose, be brought back from the Underworld with Boone. This applies to Neve and Isabel, as well as Dae’s grandmother and anyone else who might die before this is all over.
If I win the next two Labors. If I make him king of the Overworld, too.
Being king of both will give him the power to cross souls between worlds.
“I know Dae’s other gift now,” I tell him. “He used it. That pendant on a chain around his neck is the Lantern of Diogenes.”
Hades is silent a moment, considering. “So they all know you were speaking the truth.”
“Yes.”
“Then they’d be fools not to take your offer.” He clasps his hands together. “All of them win this way.”
I shrug. “Mortals.”
Which makes his lips twitch. He’s been doing that more lately. Smiling. My heart lifts a little at the sight.
“What fools they be,” he murmurs. Shakespeare, I think. Not my best subject.
I prop my chin on my knees. “Gods aren’t much better.”
“You’ll get no argument from me.”
He lowers his gaze, staring at the floor, the streak through his hair falling over his forehead. I so want to brush it back, but that would be breaking one of our unspoken “we don’t do that” rules.
“I want to show you something.” He glances up, studying my face.
“Okay.”
He hums—not amused, more surprised—and shakes his head a little.
“What?”
“Just so…trusting.”
“I already told you I trust you. Why are you surprised?”
“I guess I’m not used to it from many people.” He straightens slowly, and something in his face turns cautious. Then he sort of shakes himself out of it and gets to his feet, offering me a hand. “Come on.”
I stare at that hand, warmth fluttering through my body to settle in my chest.
Touching. That breaks the unspoken rules.
He grunts impatiently, and I force myself to casually stand and put my hand in his. I try not to make a sound that gives away how good that single, simple point of contact feels.
A connection.
My vision and hearing blink out, only to blink back in faster than usual, and I find myself standing in a place even more beautiful than Erebos.
“Elysium,” I breathe. He doesn’t have to tell me. It’s that obvious.
This part of the Underworld is also called the Isle of the Blessed—the place reserved for the most deserving of souls—the heroic, the pure, the kind. The champions, now, hopefully, no matter when they die. Although a few of them would be…interesting additions.
This place is beyond time, beyond measure, and beyond any words someone like me could ever hope to craft. Even poets would struggle.
“Want to see more?” he asks.
