would never have told him of any of this.
Hades looked around the apothecary now,
lifting one of my urns of belladonna,
wrinkling his nose at the smell.
‘Hermes told me everything, Hekate.
I know all about your quest. All the Gods are aware,’
he said this quietly, ‘of what you are.’
Of course. Hermes. I should have known that
the Olympian in him would not keep
my secrets. The betrayal stung.
I stared at Hades, the curl of distaste
on his mouth jarring and cruel.
‘What do you want from me?’
‘I am letting you know,’
his voice was so cold,
‘that my spies are watching you.’
Charon had told me this about Hades.
He had grown so mistrustful that
he had taken to keeping shadows as spies.
That he deemed me threat enough to have me
watched chilled me to the bone. I stared at him,
unable to fathom this version of him.
‘If you had not let me stay, I would have been—’
He cut me off. ‘You would be enslaved to Zeus
or Poseidon. Or have turned out like your mother.’
I took in the cold shock of his words.
And then it struck me like ice.
‘You are afraid of what I am.’
It was there, in his hesitation
that I knew, but still
