22. The Gates of Hell

"Ares," Sage stared up at him, her eyes wide and pleading. "It's not my fault I'm like this."

The shadows seeped from Ares' face, returning him to the handsome god she was used to. He gazed down at her, his eyes glowing like the embers in a dying fire.

"You were going to kill me."

Sage bowed her head, guilt churning in her gut.

Ares clawed at his chest and his deep voice trembled.  "I loved you."

"Because of an arrow."

"Because of you!" Tears slid down Ares' face. "Because you made me love you. You, with your strength, your poise, your dignity." He let his tears fall over her and the fire finally completely left his eyes, leaving them black and lifeless. "My feelings were real, Sage. The arrow only confused them – it didn't create them."

Sage shook her head. She didn't want to hear this. The floorboards creaked as Ares swept past her.

"Where are you going?" She asked, unable to stop herself. Ares was heading for the door, his back to her. He didn't stop.

"I can't be here. I can't look at you right now."

Sage winced and closed her eyes.

The door slammed shut behind Ares and Sage flinched. She bowed her head, overcome by broken sobs.

What had Aphrodite's curse done to her? She was a monster.

Ares soared through the night sky. Cold air assaulted his skin but he didn't feel its cruel sting. His heart was in splinters. Sage didn't love him, not only that – she'd tried to kill him. He replayed in his mind again and again, the awful moment, when she'd locked eyes with him and thrust the blade, attempting to pierce his heart.

Ares scrunched his eyes shut and roared. Everything was over. As he soared higher and higher, he felt like the world was crashing around him. He'd lost Sage. She'd never love him. She never had.

Sage stood in the plush apartment. Around her, everything was polished and gleaming. A chandelier twinkled from the high ceiling, casting rainbows of light across the wood wall panelling. Candles flickered from the coffee table, their sweet scent filling the room. The bust of an old admiral dominated the entryway, with umbrella's propped up against its base. The admiral's blank eyes seemed to sneer disapprovingly at her.

Sage felt a small child. She didn't belong here. She'd grown up in a tower block with social services breathing down her mother's neck. She should be back in her tiny apartment, with the damp walls and a landlord that wouldn't pick up the phone. A fairy-tale had brought her to this castle in the clouds. A fairy-tale had given her a handsome man with superpowers, to fall helplessly in love with her.

And now, standing alone, with Sophia unmoving on the floor, Sage could see how warped her fairy-tale was. She'd always thought that she was a good person, living a hard life. Now, she'd gone so far as attempted murder. She was no princess. She was one of the bad guys. She was the broken crack in the fairy-tale.

Sage pulled out her phone and found Jaz's name in her short contact list. He picked up on the first ring.

"Sage?"

"Yeah."

Jaz breathed a sigh of relief.

"You're alive."

"I am." She sniffed, trying to reign in her tears. But it was hopeless. "We failed, Jaz." Her voice broke and she clamped a hand over her mouth. There was silence as Jaz listened to her crying.

"I'm on my way."

Ares grinned manically, watching Cerberus – the giant three headed dog – whimper. Ares' eyes were wild as he swung his great sword, slashing at the hellhounds fur. Cerberus howled as the sword hacked into one of its meaty necks.

"No!" Hades appeared, glowing in the ethereal light of the underworld. The ancient god was seething, blue fire expelling from his dark lips. Behind him, souls in the river Styx wailed.

"War god!" He hissed. "I'll kill you for this!"

Ares' grin widened.

"Will you?" He looked gleeful at the idea. Hades' eyes glowed intense blue, tears shining like stars upon the irises. Cerberus staggered and fell, his paws splashing into the Styx as he slumped. "You'll have to kill me quick." Ares chimed. "Your little pup is going to die if you're not careful."

Hades growled, gnashing his teeth menacingly. Ares laughed at his uncle's pain. Hades outstretched his hand and, filled with rage, he cast terror into Ares' mind. But the god of death frowned, confused, when Ares' expression didn't change.

"How?" Nobody, not even Zeus, was immune to the fear Hades could inspire.

"Your power doesn't seem to work on me anymore, old man." Ares stretched his arms out wide. "I'm already terrified." The war god stopped grinning and his eyes became cold.

Hades clicked his tongue, flashing his pointed teeth, but his blue eyes had narrowed with curiosity.

"What has you so scared, nephew?"

"I'm in love with a woman who wants me dead."

Hades snorted.

"Aphrodite is as fickle as the wind." He dismissed but then he saw the flicker of irritation flash across Ares' face.

Hades pursed his lips thoughtfully. "Why are you here, war god?"

"Let me into your kingdom."

"No."

"Let me in, or I'll kill your dog."

Hades turned abruptly and Ares' eyes shone with triumph. His confidence wavered though, when he heard Hades' cold laugh.

Hades flourished a hand and, suddenly, Cerberus vanished. Hades turned slowly and faced his nephew.

"I'm the god of death, reaper of souls and king of the underworld. As the world spins, my power constantly grows, fed by every passing life." Hades' eyes faded from blue to black, his face an icy mask. "You can't beat me, war god."

Ares clicked his tongue and crossed his arms, irritated.

"You're a terrible uncle."

"And you're my most hated nephew." Hades turned to leave, a sly smirk on his dark lips. He thought he'd gotten the last laugh. But then, suddenly, there was a blade against his throat. Hades blinked slowly, never before had he seen Ares move as fast as that. Had the younger god been holding back until now? The blade glowed when it touched Hades' skin, it's marks blazing intensely.

Hades recognised the great sword and his hissed angrily at the threat.

"Let me in."

"Why?" Hades' voice was as harsh as ice. "Nobody wants you in Olympus."

"I'm not trying to get to Olympus." Ares growled. "Only as far at the Lethe."

Hades' expression changed and he turned slowly to face his nephew – the swords edge continuing to rest on his shoulder.

"You want to reach the river of unmindfulness." Hades hissed, flashing his pointed teeth. "What is it that you want to forget?"

Ares swallowed, the pain he felt finally burning in his eyes.

"I want to forget what she did."

Sage opened the front door and could have wept in relief at the sight of Jaz.

"She's in here." Sage gabbled quickly, pulling him into the apartment. "I put cushions under her head and tried to cover the wound but... Jaz, Sophia seems really bad." Sage wrung her hands fretfully. "I thought about calling an ambulance, But I didn't know how to explain-"

Jaz waved a dismissive hand.

"She'll be fine."

"Jaz, that's cold."

"Sophia can't die like this." He stated, his tone matter-of-fact.

Jaz crouched down and grunted, hoisting Sophia up into his arms. He carried her over the sofa where he set her roughly down.

"Careful." Sage chided. Sophia groaned and her eyes fluttered open. She was finally awake.

"You look like crap." Jaz greeted, checking her over. Sophia was deathly pale.

"It hurts."

"I know. Drink this." Jaz pulled out a thermos from his rucksack and removed the lid for her. "It's a special brew of mine."

"What's in it?" Sage asked, hovering on the side-lines.

"It will dull the pain."

Sophia drank deeply before settling back against the cushions.

"How are you awake?" Sage questioned, staring at Sophia is disbelief. "You've lost so much blood." Sage glanced sideways at Jaz. "When you said that she couldn't die... did you mean that literally?" Sage's eyes widened. "Is Sophia immortal because she's a servant to the gods?"

Sophia, bleary-eyed also looked questioningly at Jaz. He shook his head.

"Her bloodline is cursed. It has to continue. The fates won't allow her to die childless."

Sophia tried to sit back up but her muscles wouldn't obey her. It was like a great weight was pinning her down.

"Why didn't you tell me that?" She asked. Jaz looked uncomfortable.

"I've told you too much. It will do you no good."

Sophia glared at Jaz accusingly but, slowly, her eyelids drooped before fluttering shut. Her chest rose and fell – deep sleep tugging her under. Jaz breathed a sigh of relief and straightened up.

He retreated to the kitchen but Sage hesitated. She placed a blanket over Sophia, tucking the young woman in. It was late, but Sage doubted she'd be able to sleep tonight. She followed Jaz into the kitchen and watched him pour the rest of his 'special brew' down the sink.

"What did Sophia's ancestors do, to get cursed so badly?" Sage asked, leaning against the counter.

Jaz' gaze was on the drain, watching the tea spiral down.

"It's ancient history."