Chapter Twenty-Four

The leftover questions I had evaporated with the Fates. Poof: the three of them melted into each other and were gone, their bodies sucked into the middle, like a vacuum hose had been hiding behind them the whole time.

I had to do something about the mantle; and I had to figure out the rest of the story. Not even I believed that they were working for humanity's own good—or the gods, for that matter.

Fate had gone rogue just before disappearing for who know how long while Atropos died, grew up, and came into her powers.

It wasn't Zeus against Hades; it wasn't even about the Nectar. This war was about continued existence, survival, eternity. And ironically every single one of the gods had to die to be reborn. How many were there? How many had to die?

I was alone with my thoughts and the world's largest tome of Greek mythology.

Once more the book weighed down my lap, settling in for the long run.

Chapter One: The Beginning.

I took a break after chapter one. As soon as I snuggled into the couch to begin Chapter Two: Lineage of the Gods, Hector burst through the portal again.

Maybe "burst" is too strong a word. He emerged one foot at a time, just like always, but brought with him a serious storm cloud of bad energy. Something must have upset him big time.

Couldn't have been me...

"There are rules in place for dealing with myths so old as the Fates for a reason. They do not come at your beck and call; you answer theirs. That's the way it has worked since the beginning of time! For decades I have been at their whim; how did you even get them here?"

Well, hello to you too, grumpy gills.

Hector didn't look tired anymore—he was just a ball of anger with a pretty face. The room actually lit up behind him, as if a wall of pure, invisible heat had formed in the empty space. For the second time I truly feared my captor.

But I tried to play it cool.

"Relax—the Fates showed up of their own volition and we just had a conversation. No blood was shed in the making of this tête-à-tête. They told me that I'm not specifically important but that the Fury who will take over me is—fingers crossed—important, and that you're pretty important and that this whole damn war is important. Basically they told me what you should have when you brought me here. And besides—" I added, remembering something they'd said about Lindsay, "—they know Lindsay. I was probably a welcome distraction compared to her. I'm not nearly as crude as she is."

I wasn't lying, the Fates were much more open to answering questions than Hector or anyone else had been. And Hector had had numerous occasions to spell it out for me. I might have been more cooperative had he filled me in on the plan, prophecy and all.

We could have avoided the Fates' presence at all if he had bothered to hold a ten minute Q&A.

But then I would not have the mantle of Hades—the tiny replica of an iron-wrought helmet, like a prop from a very small movie—which I dutifully hid between the pages of Dracula and Hector might never get them, even after the Nectar was found.

"Lindsay was a mistake. She turned out more stubborn than I could have imagined; somehow, she managed to call the Fates on her own—an error which had her thrown in my dungeon. If you would stop comparing yourself to her for an instant you would realize that you are the more powerful Fury, by far.

"What you did today was as discourteous as I expect her to be." His voice calmed, the volume level shrinking, the anger in his words fading. "You on the other hand are well bred and have a handle on your emotions. Gods, Autumn, you may have lost this war for me before it even begins."

Hector moved with measured steps from the portal across the room to the seat next to me. He sat with a heavy sigh, all gumption dissipated from his body, stolen by his angry words. All of his energy used up in the scolding.

If yelling at me was so exhausting, how were we going to fight—and win—this war? I could have just given him the helmet charm then and there, but I didn't think it would help.

"I told you I didn't call them! Hector..." I hesitated to ask. Was it my place to worry? "You look sick."

His pallor was more deafening than usual; where once he was strikingly handsome and confident, Hector was now pale and drained. I wanted to pull him towards me, comfort him, bring warmth back into his face.

"I am sick. Without the Nectar I am but a human playing at being a god. It is amazing I have lasted so long having never tasted the elixir. The energy of the realm only goes so far." He smiled a tired smile at me. A minute ago he was flaming mad—literally. Did my worry please him? "Jasper has a tincture for me. Don't think we're done with this conversation; wait here."

He pushed himself up with more effort than I would have needed and walked away without another word. For the second time today I crept to the kitchen to eavesdrop.

Jasper said things like, "Twice today, my lord, and three times yesterday," and "It won't last forever."

Hector responded with sharp answers, "Do your job. With Autumn we will restore the Nectar and all will be as it should."

Jasper made an ugly noise of disbelief.

I returned to my seat on the couch where I pulled my feet protectively up under me, unsure of what I was feeling. Did I pity Hector? Was I afraid for him? What would happen to me if he faded away without the Nectar? I reopened the book to distract myself only to end up focused on a single spot on the page, not reading at all.

Several minutes later, when Hector emerged from the kitchen, I couldn't make sense of my thoughts enough to say anything. The way he looked at me, with his hesitant smile and words unspoken, that feeling I knew well.

He made my insides flutter.

Hector sat back down across from me, shot glass in hand. To my raised eyebrow he lifted his glass in salute and swiftly downed the wine-red contents. He made no move to suggest whether the taste was sweet or a torturous affront to his senses.

"He refuses to make it taste better for fear that I would crave it more often than I already do."

I shook my head. "I can tell that you don't want to have to drink that stuff. Think of it like a medicine: a necessary evil. The last time I had to take Nyquil I thought for sure I was going to die. And it tasted so bad that I wanted to die." I had no idea if that were true but it felt like something that might have actually happened in my life before Hector.

Being around him was much easier when I forgot how much I was supposed to hate him.

"Having Lindsay around helps." Hector didn't look at me. I tried not to react save for the involuntary tension in my jaw, the traitor. "I mean that I can feed on her energy—because she won't leave me alone—like I can feed on all those who belong to the old myths. Perks of being Hades."

I met his amused grin with a blank face. Silence grew between us; I wasn't about to let him know how he affected me.

"How are you enjoying our history?" he nodded towards the book on the sofa beside me.

"I think I would prefer an audiobook."

He leaned forward to set the glass on the table and stood. "I'll take that into account for the reprint edition." Color had returned to his cheeks and the light was back in his eyes; the shot had revitalized him to his former and proper glory. "I'll leave you to your studying, then."

Hector bowed slightly at the waist and I, still seated with my legs tucked underneath me, dipped my head. Who am I that a god should bow to me? I should have stood and done it properly but he had already turned, pep once again in his step.

I didn't remind him that he wasn't finished yelling at me.

"Wait! Don't you want to know what the Fates said?"

"Actually, I think they explained to you the sad truth—that you are the only one who can help us win this war because Atropos is dying and Fate will be on hiatus until further notice. I imagine they also talked a lot about how powerful they are, how important their work is, and how hard it was to bring you to this point."

Well, he wasn't wrong.

"If you already know what they told me, why are you mad at me?"

"Autumn, if you misinterpret this as anger I sincerely hope you don't catch me on a bad day." Hector, still standing, grinned down at me. "The Fates enjoy their secrets as much as they enjoy sharing stories of their import and power. I have known for some time that Atropos will soon expire."

I did not tell him about the helmet. I didn't repeat the bit about the Fates having humanity's best interests at heart.

A long moment passed. "Have you figured out what makes me special yet?" Fate claimed that I was but a vessel; Lindsay wanted to knock me down and take my place; Jasper probably wanted to eat me despite his proclivities for toddlers; Hector... it was two steps forward and a hundred steps backward with him.

He studied me quietly before answering. "I was told that you were the seventh child of the seventh generation since the Furies disappeared from our records, and you were surprisingly hard to find. I was also told that the Fury essence I need will either manifest in you or it won't. I'm doing my best not to get attached either way.

"I'll let you get back to reading." He stood suddenly, apparently feeling better after his tincture shot. "Knowledge is a very powerful weapon and I didn't mean to interrupt. I only planned to drop by for a cocktail between meetings." I raised my eyebrow at him in silent question. "I spend the majority of my time recruiting warriors to our cause. Thus far I have managed to sway the giants and the Chimera, the Manticore and Minotaur, and the Furies to our side but we are greater in numbers so I stay the course. Polyphemus is next on my list."

After Hector left, I showered. Long and hot, a test to see how long the Underworld would keep the water warm. The temperature never cooled.

I made sure that the mantle of Hades was where I had stowed it and climbed into the bed he had carefully picked out for me. I won't admit to lying awake on the bed that night, wondering about Hector. I obviously didn't stay up thinking about the way he seemed more at peace when he sat with me than I had ever seen him before. It wouldn't make sense for me to enjoy the thought of helping him get back the confident man who had kidnapped me.

What am I, some sort of masochist?

But each day I was learning more and more about the world I had landed in; I had gained skills I never knew I wanted, the proof evident in my newfound muscles.

And each night it was harder to remember why I wanted to leave so badly.

Though, I still wanted to leave. Of course I did.

That's convincing. Say it again, like you believe it.

It was a very long night.