Page 108 of The Games Gods Play
“Not enough,” I snap. “You said I’d be punished. I was thinking restricted meals or solitary confinement or something. Not this.” I look down at my own palms, picturing the slices, and my stomach sours.
“Would you have not used the pearl if you knew?” he shoots right back.
I can’t hold his gaze because I don’t know. Meike probably would have died if I hadn’t. “Hades should have told me. All of it. Why is he doing this, anyway? The real reason.”
“You’ll have to ask him,” Charon says, holding my gaze.
I shake my head. “Why is it such a big, almighty secret?”
The ferryman makes a face. “Mostly because the more people who know a secret, the harder it is to keep. But also, partly to protect you from the backlash…”
So there is a reason. “And partly something else?”
Charon runs a hand through his hair. “He wouldn’t admit it, but after Persephone, Hades holds his emotions and reasons and actions even closer.”
I don’t like the way my heart pinches—for Hades’ loss, but also because…
No. I won’t give what I’m feeling a name. Naming it gives it power. “He must have loved her very much to be so devastated.”
“He did.” Charon tilts his head. “But not the way you seem to believe.”
I frown. “What?”
“They weren’t lovers. She wasn’t his wife.”
“But…she was his queen.” The histories and acolytes of the temples didn’t get that wrong, did they?
“Not through marriage. He signed a pact with her, giving her power over a portion of his realm.”
Is this true? “Which part?”
“Elysium.”
And now Hades has to rule it again without her.
Charon smiles. “Persephone had the softest and sweetest of hearts.”
Exact opposite of me, then.
“And she is the reason Hades made sure flowers bloom in the Underworld, so she never had to miss the spring when she was there.”
“That sounds like someone he loved to me.”
Charon and Cerberus both shake their heads. “He saw her as a friend, even as a younger sister.”
My heart contracts and then seems to expand with this knowledge, giving a hard thump. It shouldn’t. I shouldn’t care. It makes no difference to me whatsoever. Caring would make me a fool a thousand times over.
“My advice is to give your trust to him…” One side of his mouth quirks. “And a whole lot of patience. Stop asking questions. The Fates will take it from there.”
I already handed over my trust. And patience? Years of working off debt teaches you that shit real quick. But stop asking questions?
I drop my gaze to my feet, kicking at the base of the table.
Hades’ continued absence is starting to scare me because I think I’ve begun to lean on him more than I realized. Sure, he’s got his challenging points—arrogant, argumentative, dragged me into this shitshow of a competition.
But since the very first day of the Crucible, I’ve never been afraid of him. And there is one thing he absolutely is—constant.
Steady. I can trust steady. It’s inconstancy that makes me wary.
