Chapter 42: Chapter 42

S A V A N N A H

“IT IS CLEAR now that the entire branch of the gods of death are extremely temperamental,” Zeus started, his eyebrows furrowing together in anger. “In theory, I should prevent further implications by eradicating all of you —but getting rid of Hades and Thanatos will backfire on me eventually, so they stay. Your removal however,” he spat, pointing his lightning bolt at me, “has no consequence. So, your execution shall be held later this evening, after dinner,” he declared.

“…He hates doing business on an empty stomach,” Hera chipped in, placing a hand on Zeus’ shoulder like a devoted housewife.

I stared at them with wide eyes.

“Wait —wait, what?” I spluttered. “…Execution?”

“This is great,” Horkos chuckled in amusement. “How clean, quick and painless,” he sighed. Then he glanced at me as an afterthought. “…Well, for the rest of us anyway.”

“Zeus, I demand that you reconsider,” Hades then urged, and I felt the rumble of his voice as his hand quaked beneath my feet. “My outburst was completely justified. Horkos hurt my daughter. Whether she is allowed to live or not, I do not tolerate nor condone such vile intent. He deliberately messed up the council and pinned Savannah in a position that made her seem disloyal and rebellious. She is not here to threaten you, do you not see that? She is just a girl who wants to live. And she wants you to understand.”

I turned around and looked up at my father in slight awe. He surprisingly had a wonderful way with words.

“Understand what, Hades?” Zeus grumbled begrudgingly. “That despite her half-blood powers we should let her roam free?”

“Then teach me,” I then spoke up, narrowing my eyes in all seriousness. “Teach all of us —in the way of what is good and just. If half-bloods could be trained, you would not have all of this uncertainty.”

“You say that with confidence, Reaper, but you cannot speak for everyone,” Hera snapped sharply. “How would we even go about it?” she questioned.

I frowned and thought off the top of my head. “I could teach them,” I suggested. “They are more likely to listen to their own than someone they fear. You can’t raise kind people without kindness,” I pointed out.

Thanatos, who had been silent, then whistled lowly as though he were impressed by my words.

“Why would we even consider that?” Horkos then said, glaring at me. “The half-bloods have been nothing but troublesome. Zeus, tell me that you still see reason?” he asked the eldest god hopefully.

The king of the gods was not impressed.

“Actually, that is not a bad idea,” he countered Horkos’ childish attack. “Having a half-blood pave the way for future half-bloods —it is quite innovative, do you not think so, dear?” he asked his wife.

Hera glanced at me with a slight smile on her face. It was not a high and mighty smile. It was a smile that gave away that she, to my surprise, believed that there was potential.

“I think that it is interesting,” she murmured. “A half-blood god teaching other half-blood gods —it seems like an excellent way of assessing the durability of a permanent operation, at least to begin with.”

Wait, what? Was she doubting my ability to keep an operation running? Or maybe she was planning to test it in some way, before proving how much of a disaster it could really be.

That was not what I had been implying.

“If she could succeed in training half-blood gods and satisfy the wrath of the Olympians, then I am all for it,” Thanatos stated smugly.

I looked up at him suspiciously, narrowing my eyes at his ominous smirk.

“Why are you on her side?” Horkos frowned as he recoiled in disgust. For once, I was actually with Horkos.

Why exactly was Thanatos on my side?

The god of death chuckled softly and smiled at me, which made my skin crawl. “…Because she is my half-sister,” he smirked. “I don’t know —maybe this family thing is growing on me.”

The room then went silent. But only my jaw dropped. Had I heard him correctly? Was I Thanatos —Death’s half-sister? I then recalled the first real conversation Hades and I had —how I was not exactly his only child. He had another son. Hades…and Persephone…

He was the son. Thanatos was Hades’ godly son.

I blinked rapidly, trying to process and rationalise the concept of me being related to Death —who was my boss and a standard pain in the neck.

“Oh my gods,” I stated in disbelief; bewildered as well as a little out of it.

Everyone was probably expecting me to say something more, but I just continued to have a mental short circuit.

“I apologise for not telling you before,” Thanatos addressed me. “But you have to understand that telling you would have been dangerous.”

My eyes flickered upwards to Thanatos’ face and I stared at him blankly. “Dangerous for what —your job?” I deadpanned. “I just…I can’t…What the hell were you thinking when you decided to keep this from me?” I demanded. I turned around to my father without giving Thanatos a chance to answer.

“And why didn’t you tell me either?” I asked, glaring up at him. “You acted like you were just…business partners or something.”

“To be fair, we are business partners,” Thanatos murmured.

“Shut up,” I told him. “I’m talking to my —our father.”

I frowned thoughtfully.

That does not sound right…

Thanatos huffed and grumbled reluctantly as though in agreement that calling us siblings made both us nauseous, but he said nothing more.

I turned back to Hades. “Why?” I asked.

Hades tensed. His gaze moved away from mine, and a breathy sigh escaped his slightly parted lips. “…If you had known that Thanatos was your brother, it would have implicated both of you further. You finding out now was the second best possible outcome. I am sorry that we could not tell you, but you have to understand that the more you know, the more your life is at risk.”

“But he’s family,” I insisted, growling the statement through clenched teeth. “And you know what? I don’t care if we don’t tolerate each other —but…you don’t get to pick your family.”

“But you can protect them,” Hades said gravely, meeting my gaze again.

I considered it. Perhaps knowing that Thanatos was my half-brother would have changed how things turned out —especially for the worst. Regardless, I still did not feel okay with the fact that the announcement had just been bomb-shelled somewhat randomly. I then coughed self-consciously, too embarrassed to try to continue arguing.

“So,” Hera said softly, inhaling sharply at the tension. “That was…unexpected. But Savannah’s relations with the gods of death is not what is on trial here,” she pointed out.

“Precisely,” Zeus agreed gruffly. “Now, about this mentorship proposition —”

“It is preposterous,” Horkos cut in. “I do not know who this girl thinks she is, but she cannot just waltz in here and change rules that have been in place longer than she has been alive,” he said firmly. “This is ridiculous. Can we just end this and execute her?”

“Horkos…” my father said in warning.

“Unfortunately, Horkos has a point, brother,” Zeus murmured gravely. “The treaty was made a long time ago. It is not something that can just be…abolished. Overturning such a law would require time and the signatures of those liable —”

“Lots of signatures,” Hera insisted, widening her eyes.

“Many, many signatures…” Zeus mused, furrowing his eyebrows.

“Twelve signatures,” I deadpanned.

Zeus and Hera paused, eyeing me wearily.

“I know how many Olympians there are,” I quipped. “And I know how good all of you are at making excuses. But I think that a gesture this grand would really restore some faith in the gods.” I smiled craftily. “You wouldn’t want the mere mortals to continue to fear you, would you?”

Hera’s expression then hardened. “Fear is the best tool in controlling a world,” she said darkly. “If the humans feel no respect for us…then maybe this mentorship idea is not the best thing after all,” she frowned doubtfully.

“Hark, someone who sees sense,” Horkos remarked.

“Silence, Horkos,” Zeus snapped. The minor god dithered accordingly. Then the king of the gods turned back to me. “Hera is correct. The mortals are our creation. And they need to fear us. Otherwise we would live in a world without consequence.”

“But if you kill me you won’t get respect,” I tried, beginning to panic slightly. “Mortals will see you as merciless and ruthless tyrants —they won’t see fair rulers who do what’s best for everyone. This treaty…it will continue to create distrust and terror.”

“Well, the wayward gods should have thought of that before they defiled the mortals,” Hera sneered. She stuck her nose in the air and folded her arms. “…What is done cannot be undone,” she whispered, glancing at Hades.

Then she turned around sharply and headed for her throne.

“This isn’t fair —!” I started.

“Get this girl out of my sight,” Zeus cut me off, raising his hand up in a gesture of silencing me. “The execution will be held after dinner. Tell the chef to make something…rich and saucy.”

“Of course, dear,” Hera agreed.

“What?” I cried. “No —you can’t. Is anyone actually thinking —?”

“Well, that settles it,” Horkos spoke up, smiling. “Thus, concludes the council. I will personally see to it that our prisoner gets plenty of rest before her rather…final, appearance.”

I gulped as Horkos marched over and stuck out his hand in front of me. Hades was having none of it. He withdrew and brought his hand closer to him, refusing to give me up so easily.

“You are not touching her. Ever,” Hades said thickly. “If she has to go somewhere, I will be the one to take her.”

I pouted, feeling conflicted. On one hand, my father was defending and protecting me. On the other, he was indirectly volunteering to be my personal prison warden.

“Not a chance,” Horkos stated. “As her father, I do not believe that you should be trusted with that task.”

“Then ward me too,” Hades taunted.

“Why are you being so difficult about this?” Horkos questioned, furrowing his eyebrows together.

“Why are you all still here?” Zeus snarled. His question went ignored.

“I don’t trust you,” Hades answered Horkos, making it plain and simple. “I do not trust you with the law; I do not trust you as a warden; and I certainly do not trust you with my daughter. I am determined to keep her alive as long as possible. And that means keeping an eye of those dirty hands of yours,” he then hissed, leaning further away.

Horkos gave him a look and then glanced down at me. “…Fine. I will accompany the both of you back to your cell.”

Hades grunted and gave a slight nod, before turning towards the doors.

But one of the doors then creaked open, and a series of small shouts caught everyone’s attention. We looked down to the floor to see a small group of leather clad Grim Reapers.

A sudden arrow whistled past my ear and struck Horkos in the side of his arm. I studied its sleek glossiness, and recognised it immediately.

It was Søren’s arrow.

Horkos visibly winced, before picking out the arrow as though it were a small thorn. He frowned, before letting out a hiss at the burn of the obsidian.

“What is the meaning of this?” Zeus demanded, darting forward.

“We cannot let you execute Savannah, Lord Zeus,” Søren said firmly, lowering his crossbow.

“And just who are you?” the god of the skies snapped.

“And where did you get that Phoenix?” Thanatos asked suspiciously, narrowing his bronze eyes at Phee-Phee. The fiery creature began flapping excitedly at the sight of me.

“We’re Savannah’s friends,” Søren answered.

“Uh, do not put me in that category,” Chainsaw Guy was quick to interject —which earned him an elbow jab to the stomach from Abigail.

“I’m not really her friend either,” the male whom I did not recognise added. “I’m just here for vengeance.”

Søren rolled his eyes at his dysfunctional rescue team before looking back at Zeus. “Regardless of what we individually think of Savannah, we are all here for the same reason. To prevent another death.”

I looked on hopefully, as Zeus hesitated.

“You are trespassing on the land of the gods,” Horkos said, narrowing his eyes in disdain. “That is an offence punishable by death.”

“Wait, Horkos,” Zeus ordered, raising his hand to silence him. “I want to hear what the Reapers have to say. Start by stating your name and why you are here —give your own personal reasons.”

Søren and the others shared confused looks, before Chainsaw Guy stepped forward confidently.

“I am Melchior. And I’m here, honestly for him,” he started, pointing back at Søren. The Trainer stiffened and blushed softly. “As a favour,” Chainsaw Guy continued. “It doesn’t matter, and I don’t care who we’re saving. I’m just here to do the right thing.”

He shot me a begrudging look, before stalking back to stand next to Abigail. I shivered, rendered uneasy.

Søren walked forward next, sighing deeply.

“My name is Søren. I am here to do the right thing too —but I’m also here for Savannah, because she’s important to too many people,” he stated with all seriousness. “I will not let her die.”

“I am Abigail,” the blonde then announced, forcibly pulling Søren behind her as she then stepped forward. “I am not friends with Savannah either, but I’ll do what I can to save her. This was a favour…until I heard how unfairly this trial was going,” she hissed darkly, glaring at the gods.

Zeus raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed.

We then all looked at the last Reaper, who had not spoken up yet. He paused, before stepping forward and folding his arms.

“The name’s Kyle,” he quipped. “I’m here for one thing only. Answers. My question?” he got straight to the point, “Why did you kill my mother?”

Silence followed as everyone just seemed to be hearing that information for the first time. Kyle himself was glaring at Zeus; an intense expression laced with pain and indignation.

Everyone turned to the god. He dithered, as though he were unsure. “Ah, well. Who was your mother?” he asked somewhat gently, almost as though he possessed some kind of concern.

Kyle tightly clenched his jaw in furious disbelief, but he let Zeus have the benefit of the doubt.

“…Elizabeth Roland,” he said. “A daughter of Ares.”