Her eyes were filled with a knowing distrust as he smiled at her, and she turned her gaze forward, head held high as she walked past us with long, delicate strides. She towered over me, body built with lean power down to her lower legs, which were more like that of a jack rabbit; the pads of her feet were small and delicate, yet powerful enough to likely put someone down with a single kick. She was dressed in finery, her hair braided with delicate chains and crystals. White freckles dusted her dark skin, and a pearlescent ink decorated her cheeks in horizontal stripes, along with another that streaked down the center of her lower lip.
“I’m amazed they can feel such comfort dwelling this close to where souls find judgment,” I said as I met the curious gaze of a pair of passing feather folk. Their gray and cerulean skin caught the sun in hues of green and blue, and their long, feather-tipped ears were adorned with delicate gold chains and pendants dusting the tops of their feathered shoulders. Their clothes, unlike the simple garments the village dwellers donned, were a sheer, decadent material that seemed as light as the air that swirled around their sky Islands in Pelagonia.
“I’ve not seen feather folk in these parts in a long time,” Atlas whispered as we continued onward. “Hades has been working hard in the recent centuries, extending his reach across Elythias.”
I arched a brow. “Since when is Hades so friendly?”
“I’m sure Persephone had a hand in it, especially when offering refuge to those fearful of Zeus’ ongoing conflict with Hesperian’s reach.”
The flames within me rippled at the sound of the familiar name, calling to something deep within the lingering, distant memories of a form they once took.
“Zeus is picking a fight with the Wyverns?” I asked.
“You know how he is—always searching for threats in the wrong places, turning a blind eye to where they truly lie.”
The guard escorting us glanced over her shoulder as we reached the base of the steps to Hades’ Palace, eyes briefly narrowed, her tail swaying with each step, her staff tapping against stone to a steady beat.
We ascended, and with each step my mind wandered to the possibilities of what we would see, of what Hades might be like.
“These shall be your quarters for the duration of your stay,” she said as she guided us into a large sitting room, turning to face us. Her face remained unreadable, just as it had from the beginning, giving no notion of her thoughts or emotions. I wondered if she realized, like others, what we were, if she harbored the same judgment the goblin had.
Katàratos.
Cursed.
There were some who remembered what befell our kingdom, Lunoscia, and I wondered if the old goblin was truly that old, or if he was one of many who shared the stories of the kingdom that fell to darkness.
I took it all in—the fine furniture dressed in silk and velvet in the richest colors, the windows adorned with thick curtains, fae lights captured in glass sconces along the walls, and just as the city was, the room was filled with all sorts of plant life: flowering vines creeping along the walls, moss clinging to the legs and edges of tables.
“Each of you have a room through those doorways,” she said, pointing toward each of the doors. “Food, wine, and entertainment will be brought to you, and if there is anything else you require, you need only ask the servants.”
I frowned as she stepped past us and through the door, taking hold of the knob.
“You are to remain here until he summons you.”
Two days, we had sat in these rooms.
I sat on the window ledge of our quarters, looking out on the city cloaked under the blanket of night, the lights of the city glittering in the darkness. A half-smoked roll of Brierleaf hung between my fingers, the hazing effects blurring the edges of my vision—leaving my skin warm and near tingling. I had wanted so badly to explore in my boredom while we waited to see Hades, to do anything but sit in this godsforsaken suite with nothing to keep my mind off Thalia.
Music filled room, a lulling melody chiming from the harp a wood nymph played on a nearby chaise, the sweet sound accompanied by the angelic voices of the Fae dancers, dressed in sheer chiffon that left little to the imagination. The gold chains adorning their garments jingled with each sway of their hips, each thrust of their breasts as they twisted and twirled to the music.
One of Atlas’ guards gestured to the male dancer, an intrigued smile curving his lips as the fae male grazed the top of his thigh with his fingertips before sliding onto his lap.
“You should join us,” Atlas said as he plopped down onto the window ledge next to me.
“Tempting,” I said with a dry voice as I lifted a glass of godswine to my lips, the rich, red liquid fruity and strong.
“He’ll call for us soon,” Atlas assured me, turning his attention back to the dancers.
I didn’t answer, my gaze returned to the city.
“Missing someone?” Atlas asked, and I stifled the urge to react to his words, to let on that I had anyone “special”.
“Everything that happens here, stays here,” he said, giving me a knowing smile.
It wasn’t as if Thalia was mine, wasn’t as if I owed her my loyalties in bed. Perhaps it wasn’t just actions that could stay here. PerhapsIcould stay here, get away from the pain of seeing her every day, knowing that that was all I would ever get to do.
She wasn’t mine, and she never would be.
