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I force my eyes open, and even through the spots still trying to steal my vision, I can see Hades standing behind Zeus. He’s dressed in his liquid armor, his bident in his hand, the murder in his eyes as sharp as cut steel.

I squint, trying to make my spotty vision clear.

I don’t have time to force my fuzzy mind to focus. Rage contorts Zeus’ face a heartbeat before he launches himself at his brother.

I think I scream.

But what comes next happens so fast, my already dwindling mortal senses can’t track it. One second, Zeus is rushing Hades. The next, he’s on the ground, bleeding from the ears, and Hades stands over him, bident at his brother’s throat.

Zeus’ entire body vibrates with fury…and also visible fear. It turns him even more pale, red splotches mottling his skin.

“Are you going to kill me, brother?” he spits at Hades.

Hades leans closer, eyes so cold they look like silver frost. “You and I both know I easily could.”

Zeus tries to move, then stops, probably realizing that if he does, he’ll cut himself on the bident. “I won’t let you have the throne.”

Even as hazy as I am, it’s obvious that Zeus is terrified of that possibility. This isn’t just him throwing a fit at losing. This is something else.

Does he truly fear Hades that much?

“Aphrodite told me. About Persephone,” Zeus says. “You’re going to use the box to try to free her. Go around the seven wards. That’s why you need the throne.”

I don’t know what box he’s talking about, but the rest of it clicks right into place with what I already know.

“You can’t,” Zeus insists. “You’ll unleash the Titans on the world again.”

Hades’ smile is one of pure determination. “Maybe I’ll just unleash them on you.”

“You cheated. They’ll never give you the throne.”

Hades barks an unamused laugh. “The one who cheats, who has always cheated, is you. In this Crucible alone, you’ve done so much—arranged extra sea dragons for Poseidon’s Labor, killed Neve with strategically aimed lightning, glamoured Dex into a murderous rage, added new rules to your own Labor, and gave Samuel a glamour against the sirens, as well as my axe.”

“Lies!” Zeus spits.

“He’s telling the truth.” Is that Zai?

A wavering form is standing just beyond Zeus. I try to focus, and he comes into clear view for a second. He’s holding out the Lantern of Diogenes on its chain—Dae’s gift—and Dae is standing right behind him.

The lantern is glowing.

I want to be horrified that Zeus did that. Disgusted. But I’m too numb. I’m almost gone. Lying in a pool of my own blood.

Then a familiar horrendous chorus of sound rends the night, louder even than the earlier turmoil of the monsters fighting. The Daemones appear in that whirlwind of feathers and fury. Hades stands back, and they take Zeus by the arms, forcing the wrathful god into the skies. They drag him away kicking and screaming.

“No!” he shouts. “Hades cheated, too. He knew about the sirens. He shouldn’t have been allowed to play at all.”

They ignore him, flying higher and higher. The last thing I hear is Zeus’ desperate cry. “He’ll be the death of us all!”

Then, suddenly, Hades is with me.

He’s with me.

His face is inches from mine, features blurry but unmistakable. “Lyra.”

I manage to prop my heavy lids partially open. “You’re…late.”

“I’m so sorry. My brother locked me and the Daemones in the prison.”

It feels like we’ve done this too often before—me dying while he tries to fix me in a panic. Being mortal really sucks. I groan, my eyes fluttering shut as he pulls my hand away from my stomach. “Fucking hells…”

Well, that’s bad. I was pretty sure I was dying, but now I know for certain.

His hands come up to bracket my face. “Stay with me.”

I train my gaze on his, trying to center on him and only him, the weakness, the pain, and everything else fading to nothing.

Just him.

“You made me…not love you…on purpose—” I cough. Too many words, and my body isn’t going to let me say them.

“Yes,” he replies in a tortured voice. “How did you know?”

I want to reach up, to cup his face, but I can’t. “The sirens,” I say. I need to explain more, but it would take too much effort. We don’t have much time left.

“Do you get to…keep the throne…even if…I die?”

“No.”

Are sens

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