Hades nods gravely. “That’s correct. When a new soul joins the Underworld, a tiny sliver of their power goes towards the upkeep of the land. Not enough to make the soul go insane, but enough that the…lights are powered, so to speak.” He turns towards Persephone. “Did I say that right, my dear?”
She beams, her beautiful face spotlighting every insecurity I’ve ever had. Ugh.
“You did perfect,” she coos.
“But I haven’t reaped enough souls to make that big of a difference,” I insist. “How many people die every single day? One hundred thousand? I reap, at most, one thousand a day.”
“One thousand?” Krystian interrupts, incredulous.
Zaid gives me a pained expression, his brows tugged low over his somber eyes.
I know they’re thinking of my…condition.
What they don’t understand is that I've grown used to it. At my prime, I could reap over one hundred souls before I would need to place the dagger on the pedestal, alleviating the effects of insanity.
I don’t need their pity. Not for this. Not for something I survived and will continue to survive, regardless of what’s thrown my way.
“That makes a bigger difference than you think,” Hades says gravely. “At first, I believed the imbalance stemmed from modern medicine and treatments. Humans found ways to defy the will of the gods.” His upper lip curls away from his teeth. “But that didn’t explain why the Underworld seemed to…rebel. Now it makes sense. The Underworld knew souls were being stolen from it, and it became pissed.”
Krystian tentatively lifts his hand in the air but doesn’t wait to be called upon. “You’re speaking as if the Underworld is sentient. As if it’s…alive.”
Pretty ironic, because it’s the realm of the dead.
“Isn’t it?” Hades quirks a single eyebrow. “The world above is alive, is it not? It has grass and trees and flowers. Is it impossible to believe that the Underworld is too, in its own unique way?”
Errr…
I don’t have an answer to that, mainly because my mind hurts just thinking about it for longer than a few seconds.
“My brain hurts,” Krystian moans, rubbing at his temples.
We truly are soulmates.
“Same,” I agree. “I’m happy I’m not the only stupid one here.”
Zaid, of course, lights up and leans forward. “I think I understand.”
“Of course you do,” Krystian mutters, exchanging a tiny, conspiratorial smile with me.
“Is this why there are no new souls?” I ask, piecing everything together.
Maybe I’m not the dumbest one of the group. Yay!
“You noticed that,” Hades says.
“Kind of hard to miss,” Everett deadpans.
“This power imbalance…” Hades grabs his napkin and dabs at his lips, his gaze far away and distant. “It’s worse than you can possibly imagine. The Underworld is refusing to admit new souls.”
A boulder drops in my stomach. “What does that mean?”
“It’s been steadily getting worse over the last two hundred years, but we reached the breaking point a few weeks ago,” Hades continues.
“A breaking point?” I question.
“One of my reapers was sent to a battlefield. Hundreds and hundreds of souls to reap. But when he tried, it… It didn’t work.” He drops his napkin back onto the table and lowers his gaze.
I can’t quite read the emotion in his eyes.
