Page 176 of The Games Gods Play
Touching. That breaks the unspoken rules.
He grunts impatiently, and I force myself to casually stand and put my hand in his. I try not to make a sound that gives away how good that single, simple point of contact feels.
A connection.
My vision and hearing blink out, only to blink back in faster than usual, and I find myself standing in a place even more beautiful than Erebos.
“Elysium,” I breathe. He doesn’t have to tell me. It’s that obvious.
This part of the Underworld is also called the Isle of the Blessed—the place reserved for the most deserving of souls—the heroic, the pure, the kind. The champions, now, hopefully, no matter when they die. Although a few of them would be…interesting additions.
This place is beyond time, beyond measure, and beyond any words someone like me could ever hope to craft. Even poets would struggle.
“Want to see more?” he asks.
“Is it okay?”
His eyes twinkle back at me. “Yes. I think you’ll find it interesting. Elysium is, for each soul, their perfect place.”
“How?”
“Because I allow it.” He’s all arrogant mystery again. “Here. I’ll show you.”
We’re suddenly standing on white beaches, looking out over crystal-blue waters, and there’s a home made of glass that stretches out into the ocean. Then we’re in a city. Paris, I think. It glows sort of pink in evening sunlight.
“Some see their homes from the Overworld. Some see the purest parts of what their imaginations can create.”
We leave Paris, and what greets my eyes next makes me laugh out loud in wonder. “Wow,” I whisper.
He grins, dimples in full view. And now I’m struggling to breathe right, because he’s entirely himself in this moment. Who he was meant to be—the King of the Underworld who truly feels for the souls under his care. That he’s letting me see him like this…
“It’s a recreation of the game Candy Land,” he says. “The little girl who lives here loves that game a lot.”
Still reeling a little and reluctant to glance away from the openness of his face, I force myself to look back out over the view. I didn’t get to play board games as a kid—chess or nothing for us pledges—but I’ve seen it. It was one of those things I imagined doing with friends someday, back when I still bothered to imagine such things. In this living version, I see the Peppermint Forest with what I’m guessing is Licorice Castle in the distance. “I bet the Gumdrop Pass is something.”
He nods.
“Can I see what it would be like for me?”
Hades sighs. “A mortal’s vision of their ideal place changes throughout the course of their lifetime. It is only solidified when their soul arrives in Elysium.”
“Oh.” It would have been nice to know. “Are you able to see what it could be if I died now?”
“Don’t—” His throat works around a swallow. “Don’t think about dying yet, hmmm?”
I offer a soothing smile. “I’m not planning to.”
“Good.”
“What about you?” I ask next. “Do you have a perfect place? I mean, being a god already and all.”
He looks out over the lands and shrugs. “I see many things.”
I’m not entirely sure that’s an answer.
I take a last, long look, then turn to him. “Why are you showing me this?”
“Because whether the champions accept the proposal or not, this will be their home at the end, regardless of if they die in the Crucible or in old mortal age. And I’ll make that true of every champion retroactively and moving forward. I promise you that much, Lyra. And…” He turns his head, looking out over Elysium, jaw clenching slightly. “If you don’t win either of the next two…I wanted you to see that Boone will be fine.”
