Chapter 41: Chapter 41

S A V A N N A H

one hour earlier…

✠

I KNEW THAT Horkos would be entirely against me, but Zeus and Hera were going to be left significantly impressionable —which would be my biggest advantage. “For centuries, many gods have fallen for human mortals and created offspring that resembled man but harnessed their own godly abilities,” I began. “When the Olympians signed a treaty to get rid of these children, I wonder if any of them had a basis for executing the half-bloods. What physical evidence was laid before you and held against countless children? And if one or two of them were actually held accountable for their misdeeds, then why were all of them punished —?”

“Little girl,” Hera’s voice instantaneously drowned out mine. She gave me a look that was not a glare, but was nowhere near friendly. “…Know this: we eradicated half-blood gods because of many generational misdemeanours. There was no account for one or two children —but rather one or two hundred. The number of half-bloods that posed no threat was little to none compared to those who did,” her voice then grew softer and more sympathetic and she lidded her eyes. “It would have been strange and unbefitting for us to leave those handful and explain why. It was easier to group them together and punish the whole race.”

“So, you committed genocide just to escape speaking for a few good half-blood gods?”

“That is not what my wife meant,” Zeus then said firmly, overcoming his boredom. The simple and slight raising of his voice amplified and sounded like thunder to my ears, causing me to flinch. The god of the skies narrowed his eyes at me. “…Know your place, Reaper.”

I pressed my lips into a line and clenched my fists.

“If you had the means to erase an entire species in one fell swoop, then why couldn’t you have at least let the good ones go off and live peacefully?” I asked. “What bad would have come of that?”

“And what if they would then turn against us with time?” Horkos interjected. “We could not risk having pending loyalties.”

“And what if they were terrified of you?” I countered. My voice cracked at the end and I found my emotions welling up inside of me, threatening to overflow. “What if…their loyalty would have swayed because they had had enough of living in fear that the gods too would change their minds and suddenly rain fire over them?”

Hera looked between her husband and me before narrowing her eyes. Her grip on the arms of her throne tightened and she stiffened considerably. She appeared to be confused. Perfect.

“Whatever do you mean?” she asked. “Are they…our creation…are they afraid of us?”

She seemed terrified herself, at the idea.

“Because I assure you,” Zeus began before I could answer, “that it is very much the other way around.”

“And I can assure you, brother,” Hades spoke for the first time since the discussion started, “that there is little to no greater fear in the hearts of mortals than death, and what comes afterward. Mortals fear judgement —both for what they have and have not done. And with the thought in the back of their minds, mortals can be drawn to act…heinously…towards themselves and others. It destroys them every day; and it is a wonder it has not completely destroyed them yet.”

“That is quite enough,” Zeus said quickly, holding up a hand. I felt Hades stiffen underneath me and I felt bad that I could not outrightly thank him for helping me. Zeus cleared his throat and slowly turned to Thanatos, someone who I had almost forgotten. “…What is your opinion, Thanatos? You have been awfully quiet.”

To me, Thanatos was no more intimidating in his godly form than his human one. I glared at him without fear and silently challenged him to dare to say something stupid. Thanatos met my gaze and a sparkle that never meant anything good momentarily shone in his bronze eyes. He showed me no other sign, so I prepared for betrayal.

“…As the god of death, I spend quite a bit of time with souls,” he started vaguely. I frowned. Where was he going with that? He almost smiled as he went on, “Souls are the purist and realist part of both mortal and immortal beings. They reflect their character and intentions and provide a basis on which to be judged. But just as you would still prosecute a murderer with no intent nor knowledge of wrong and right even though less severely than one with vicious intent; it does not remove the fact that both committed murder,” he concluded with a self-satisfied grin on his face, nodding knowingly.

We all paused and tried to make sense of what he had just spewed.

“Are you trying to say that instead of killing all half-blood gods, we simply lightly punish the relatively innocent few?” Zeus mused, stroking his chin.

“Excuse me?” I gasped, outraged. “You would punish someone simply because of their ancestry?”

“Well, how else do we make an example of them?” Hera quipped.

“You don’t,” I raised my voice. “Instead, why don’t we all face the music and suggest punishing the real culprits: the gods who created the half-bloods in the first place —!”

“Insolence!” Horkos suddenly cried, pointing an accusing finger at me. “How dare you suggest a punishment of the gods. Who do you think you are. You are beneath us!”

I screamed and covered my ears, before falling to my knees. The pain was comparable to the tolerance test that my fire ability had conducted. The ringing in my head was numbed by a sound that had no measure, but rather pierced through me, high pitched and hollow.

My vision whitened and an ache formed in both of my temples.

I then began hyperventilating at the feel of something wet in the palms of my hands and dripping down my neck.

Blood.

My ears were bleeding.

“By the stars —it seems that you have burst her eardrums, Horkos,” Zeus remarked, though his tired sounding voice was an echo that barely reached me. “I told you that this form was unnecessary…”

I winced and bent forward, though that only caused all of the blood to rush to my head.

“It is not my fault that she is a half-blood. This is just a complication that comes with that defect…” Horkos said defensively.

I groaned and found that the room was beginning to feel a little less solid and real; swimming up and down in my limited field of view in giant sickening waves.

“How dare you imply that my daughter is like a defective supermarket product,” Hades defended me, and I felt him draw the hand which I was on closer towards him, like a nurturing mother. “I cannot believe that you would put your pride ahead of life. You are supposed to stand for justice. Although —I actually should not be surprised. You are a Greek god. And the gods are always so good at distorting things…”

That was all that I remember hearing.

I could not hear anything anymore. It was getting harder to keep my eyes open. And so, they fluttered closed, heavy and burdensome. My hands fell away from my ears, and my body collapsed underneath me, causing me to fall sideways on my father’s palm.

I breathed out, no longer possessing the energy to voice my pain. I went completely still.

Is this it?

Was I really going to lose because of Horkos’ clear insecurities? My insides turned to lead. I was losing blood. I fought not to let go, but I was soon unaware of the chaos which ensued as my consciousness slipped.

✠

I woke up like I had been having a nightmare. I gasped, instinctively clutched at my chest, and waited for the pounding of my accelerated heartbeat to start echoing in my head. But it did not.

You are dead, idiot. Remember?

…Right.

I sighed and drew a head-clearing deep breath, before glancing around me. There was nothing but a blur of cream wall, and then a mass of black rock. Recollection then hit me as I winced at the sharp pain that then stabbed the inside of my right ear. That asshole Horkos had burst my eardrums with his childish outburst while I was supposed to be having a civil meeting about not killing me. I growled and glared upwards, narrowing my eyes in hopes of recognising something around me. My gaze landed on big fiery jasper eyes with interestingly terrifying void-like dilated pupils. I cringed at the sight of my reflection in them.

“Can. You. Hear. Me?” Hades asked hopefully, mouthing the words individually in an irksome exaggerated manner.

“Yes,” I frowned. He sighed with relief while I continued to readjust.

I was still sitting upright in Hades’ palm. The room that we were in had no windows or doors —just four corners of wall between a marble floor and a cream ceiling, with a simple light fixture. I frowned at the realisation that we were trapped in some way.

“Where are we?”

“We are still on Mount Olympus,” Hades sighed. “I gave Horkos a piece of my mind and accidentally —very on purpose —destroyed my brother’s throne when I threw Horkos at it,” he said in a rather cheerful tone. “…Anyway, the meeting is now in recess,” he informed me, “and they have put us in a holding cell until further notice. I managed to get you some ambrosia before though —which is why you can now hear me.”

I paused and reached up to touch my ears. The pain was quickly fading, though my ears felt a little tender. The blood was still there, but now drying; and I assumed it was because Hades’ fingers had been too big to do anything about it. But I was grateful. I recalled what I had learned from reading stories on Greek mythology. Ambrosia was the nectar of the gods —a super medicine of magical sorts that could heal just about anything except reverse death; and keep Immortals young and healthy forever. It was only found in one, super inconvenient unreachable place. Mount Olympus.

Although, I did not entirely blame the gods for withholding.

Chaos was avoided by a lack of immortality in the mundane world.

“So, you mean, I lost my hearing?”

“Yes,” Hades murmured. “Horkos wailed like a spoilt brat and ruptured the inside of your ears. I think he might have even done some damage to your brain too. That would have been enough to kill a mortal. But do not worry —Reapers cannot die that way. I did not let him get away with it though.”

I smiled properly then. “Thanks, Dad.”

“Well, who else is going to defend your honour?” he chuckled softly. I nodded in agreement, before a thought struck me.

“How long have we been here?” I asked.

“Time is not the same as it is on Earth,” Hades explained. “Time runs slower here. We have been here for approximately an hour now. Two hours and a bit in Earth time.”

Two hours…Where is Søren?

“…What’s the matter?” Hades asked.

“Remember how I had asked Søren to rescue me if I wasn’t back in two hours from the time we left?” I said hurriedly. “Well, that time is up. So…is he coming?”

Hades frowned and averted his gaze. “Hopefully he has the sense to wait a few minutes in case you are scarily punctual?”

“That is not making me feel better,” I hissed. “He knows that I’m not punctual.”

“So, you think he is on his way?” Hades said with a little more concern.

I gasped and looked at him fearfully. I did not want to think it, but there was another possibility. “What if he’s already here?”

Hades looked back at me uncertainly and did not respond. Perhaps he did not want to think about it either.

“He won’t stand a chance if he’s by himself,” I hissed, getting to my feet. I made sure I had everything with me, before I straightened my jacket and adjusted my ponytail. “We have to find him.”

“Savannah, we cannot just get out of here,” Hades pointed out. “It is not sealed by a lock and key.”

I paused, deterred. “How is it sealed?” I grumbled in exasperation.

“Horkos alone has the ability to open and close the cells,” Hades sighed. “It is in his veins…and job description,” he added begrudgingly.

I cursed in frustration.

“We need to get out of here,” I said firmly, falling into a pace. “I don’t know how, but we can’t let Søren and whoever might be with him to fall into what Horkos will clearly orchestrate into a trap.”

“I understand what you are saying but we cannot get out of here. Only Horkos can let us out,” he reminded me again.

I let out an indecisive cry. I was getting increasingly frustrated and the walls around us were beginning to feel closer and closer; pushing in on us.

“Savannah —” Hades started, but our attention was then suddenly diverted.

An outline of a door seemed to draw itself in the north wall. The line was made of light, and it shone so bright that it felt as though we had been in the dark all this time.

“Is she now awake?” a deep and familiar voice then called out.

I instinctively stiffened.

“…Yes,” Hades answered reluctantly.

I clenched my fists and frowned up at Hades. “Is that Horkos?”

“Yes. Remember,” he sighed. “This is the only way. But Horkos is resuming the council now. Hopefully no one will be caught,” he added subtly. I scoffed. But he was right. This was how we would get out.

What mattered was what we did afterwards.

The light door opened inward towards us to reveal Horkos on the other side. He looked at us almost pityingly, before gesturing for us to come out. I glared up at him determinedly. Hades walked out of the cell and the door sealed shut behind him, leaving a lone silver XVI on the wall. I looked on ahead as I noticed a series of them, marking the multitude of cells. Horkos then led us up a set of stairs before I recognised our fancy gold embellished surroundings. Walking with giants obviously takes longer than desired, so we took what felt like an entire minute to get around a corner. My gaze drifted as I sighed and gave up my frustration, before I started at the sight of a line of ants coming from an adjacent hallway. I squinted. No. Not ants. People —in my size.

I inhaled sharply and widened my eyes, searching for a black haired, silver eyed boy with a crossbow. And I found him, leading three other people —Chainsaw Guy, a blonde woman who I assumed was Abigail, and a cocoa-skinned male —and…Phee-Phee!

I bit my lip to keep from gasping. Then I started as I made eye contact with Søren. I panicked. He jumped and hastily aimed his crossbow, before I frantically waved my hands around in an effort to make him stop. He hesitated and frowned, allowing me to slice a hand in front of my throat and shake my head. ‘Not. Now’, I mouthed. ‘No. Rescue. Too dangerous.’

He looked at me in confusion, but then he suddenly panicked and led his team back around the corner as Horkos then paused and turned around to us.

“…What are you doing?” Horkos asked.

I stiffened and slowly turned to look at him. I then realised that I had still been shaking my head.

“Stretching?” I said, but it came out like a question. “Actually, it doesn’t matter. You almost killed me, so why should I answer to you?” I retorted.

Horkos glanced behind me suspiciously before he rolled his eyes and sighed. I was relieved to see that he found nothing. “You certainly are your father’s daughter…” he muttered.

“Excuse me —what exactly is that supposed to mean?” Hades demanded, stiffening. “Did you not learn your lesson when I smashed you into Zeus’ throne? Shall I do it again?" he threatened, almost growling. “I will be far less civil this time.”

“Exactly!” I cried, raising a fist. “What he said.”

“Oh, do shut up,” Horkos snapped. “Save your theatrics for the council. Zeus, Hera and Thanatos are ready to see you again. I would advise accepting defeat now so we can get this over with,” he sighed.

“And you should take your own advice,” I retorted as we walked back into the throne room. “By the way, we’re not the dramatic ones. You’re the one who screamed like an infant.”

I blew a raspberry and felt pretty satisfied —until I looked at the mess in the throne room; from Hera’s deadly glare, and Zeus’ lightning bolt clenched

within his grasp.