As the dust catches the air, I wonder—is this my answer? Does this strange power come from Hades? Now that the theory is on my mind, it seems obvious. After all, it’s Hades who is at the helm of life and death and it’s death that literally seeps from my fingers.
“Ana!” Clea crests the hill toward home. Tears glisten on her face. She hurries up the stairs, skirt in hand, and then flings her arms around me. “They can’t take you away from us!”
They very much can.
But they shouldn’t. They shouldn’t want me at all. Because I’m in no way prepared for the Descendant Trial, let alone one at Hades’s House.
Why would the Fates do this to me?
I’ll surely lose.
“This must be some mistake.” Clea pulls back and sits beside me.
“When have the Fates ever rescinded their choice? The Choosing Ceremony has always been final.”
“But...how will you compete with the descendants of Hades House? All boys! They’ve been training their whole lives for this.”
“I’ve been training as well.” I bristle, unsure why I’m defending the insanity that’s my current situation.
“To be a handmaiden, not a warrior.”
We both turn at the sound of a loud rumbling that grows louder as it nears the house.
It’s the sound of a horse’s hooves on the stone drive.
Clea and I both stand when the carriage seems to burst from the shadows at the end of the driveway. Wraiths of dark smoke wind around the wheels. The horse isn’t so much a horse as it is a suggested shape of one born of shadow and darkness.
The carriage is lacquered black with Hades’s symbol emblazoned on the side in gold. It’s Cerberus, the three-headed dog, surrounded by a laurel wreath.
When the carriage comes to a halt, the coachman hops down from the upper seat and opens the door. And to both my and Clea’s astonishment, the God of the Underworld himself gets out. Then he turns back and holds out a hand for Hestia to step from the interior.
Though they are brother and sister, they couldn’t be more different. Hades is the embodiment of dark and Hestia a shining light.
I didn’t realize until this moment just how bright and welcoming Hestia is until she’s standing next to Hades with his permanent scowl and fiery eyes.
I always chafed at the idea of being an unclaimed daughter in Hestia’s House, but now I want to clutch at her skirts and beg her to keep me.
The Virgin Goddess walks over to me and holds out a hand. Though there is love shining in her eyes, I know that she’s not coming to tell me I can stay.
“There must be a mistake.” My voice comes out strangled and reedy, echoing the same words Clea had spoken and I shot down. Because now I’m afraid and maybe a little hopeful. “There’s never been a female chosen for Hades’s Descendant Trial. Never.”
Behind us Sura comes out the front door. Surely she’ll stand up for me. She’ll see the error in this situation.
But instead she gapes at Hades and then quickly recalls her place. She puts a hand over her heart and bows her head to me in a gesture of farewell.
Apparently even Sura has accepted this madness.
“The Fates have spoken. Your path is set.” Hestia places her hand on my cheek and pauses, looking deeply into my eyes as though she’s trying to convey something she can’t say aloud. “May you carry my blessings with you always, in this life and beyond, my child.”
“The night grows long,” a deep voice says from behind us.
We all snap to attention. Though Hades hasn’t issued a command, the suggestion of one is clear in his voice.
Time to go.
“But,” I swallow hard around the lump in my throat. “I...my things…”
“Clea will pack for you,” Sura says quietly. “They’ll be sent to Hades’s House before the next sunrise.”
Before Hades gets back into his carriage, he nods at Hestia and says, “As we’ve said, so it shall remain.”
What does that mean?
Clea, for perhaps the first time ever, ignores custom and side steps around Hestia to get to me. She wraps her arms around me and squeezes tightly. “I’ll see you again. We can have lunch on the mountainside when you have a break and…” She dissolves into tears. “I’ll miss you, sister.”
“I’ll miss you too.” I squeeze her back.
Sura’s embrace is warm, but quick. She’s not about to keep the god of the underworld waiting. “Many blessings, child,” she says.
Hestia comes to me last with the blessing of the Virgin Goddess.
She arches her thumb over my forehead and I immediately feel the warmth and charity of her touch. “May your heart remain open.” Next she runs her thumb from the crown of my head down between my brows and then down along the bridge of my nose. “May your wisdom always prevail.” She presses the pad of her thumb to my mouth. “And may your words always be generous.”
When she’s finished, I look up at her. In the early morning light, she shines like a mortal angel. Like she’s been cast from gold and stardust.
How am I to leave her? The only mother I’ve ever known? Whose house I’ve grown up in?
None of this makes sense.
If Hades is my father, then why hasn’t he said as much? Why hasn’t he formally claimed me?
Hestia smiles. “Take all the gifts and lessons we’ve given you and shine your light in every corner of your path ahead.”
I don’t know what else to say, so I bow my head in farewell and turn away.
While big on lessons, that was the closest thing to a pep talk Hestia has ever given me.
At the carriage door, I take one last look at my home trying to burn it to memory. I catch sight of the little faces pressed against a window on the second floor with Marigold at the front. I wave and then duck inside the carriage feeling the sudden sting of tears in my eyes.
As soon as I’m in, the dark walls seem to seal out the world. It’s quiet inside and warm. I settle myself on the thick, black leather cushion across from Hades himself. God of the Underworld. Now my surrogate godfather.
Perhaps your true father.
I don’t know what to do with myself.
I don’t know how to be around one of the dark gods.
I wasn’t trained for this.
I sneak a glance at Hades. The power coming off him is nearly enough to choke me. Rarely have I been around the other gods and almost never have I been around the dark ones. I wonder what the other descendants are doing right now. Since none of them are in this carriage it’s clear that Hades didn’t personally come to escort them to his house.
I expect to see Hades staring down at me, sizing me up. This orphan he’s plucked from obscurity. But instead, he’s looking out the dark window at Hestia, brow furrowed in concentration as if they’re having a secret conversation the rest of us can’t hear.
Hades’s gaze snaps to me suddenly, his eyes are so dark they almost seem black. “Hold on,” he says and then the carriage lurches away.
Chapter 7
The ride is quicker than I expected. The windows on Hades’s carriage are dark and it’s almost impossible to see Olympus City disappearing in a blur outside the window so I don’t bother trying to lose myself in the passing terrain.