I shrugged as I slipped my hands into the pockets of my velvet coat, eyes slipping to where the girl had disappeared. “I guess you could say that.”
“I may have use of your services in the future,” Hades mused.
“You got quite the collection here,” Atlas said as he looked around the room. “How have I never seen this room before?”
“Well, that would be due to the fact that, to many, this room doesn’t exist,” Hades said, his gaze sweeping across the room. “I’ve spent many centuries gathering magical artifacts under the orders of The Twelve, whether they still possess the powers or curses inlaid in the fabric of their creation or drained of every ounce of it. This is where they are safeguarded.”
So he was the keeper of dangerous magical artifacts, it seemed.
“They’ve proven of use to me from time to time,” he added, releasing the clasp of a long, ornate pipe from his belt. “But none of The Twelve need know of such ventures.”
He struck a match before lighting whatever herbs were held in the bowl of the pipe and drawing in a deep drag on it before letting the smoke slip from his lips in a cloud of purplish gray. “I don’t know how anyone learned of its whereabouts, let alone made it past my security.” His gaze slid back to the empty pedestal. “And this was the only thing taken, which tells me they knew exactly what they were looking for.”
“I hear this particular object is quite dangerous in the wrong hands,” I said, tilting my head.
“Charon’s siphon,” he said, black eyes hardening before he drew in a few puffs from his pipe. His anger heated the air, the blue flame sconces on the walls growing in unstable strength. “One gifted to him by Celestia’s fallen mate.” Hades’ voice dropped an octave, as if muttering to himself, the smoke billowing from his lips as he spoke in short puffs. “Should his name remain sealed with him.”
“Do you know who might’ve stolen it?” Atlas asked. “Who might have wanted it?”
Santor folded his arms behind his back and held his head high. “The guards who were on watch that night have no memory of what transpired, as if someone had taken an hour of their lives and wiped it from existence.”
I let out a sigh as I turned my attention to the empty pedestal. “So no one knows what the person looks like, where they might have come from, or where they might have gone?”
“The only thing I can tell you is that I felt their presence within my chamber the moment they entered,” Hades said. “And I would know it again in a heartbeat if I ever crossed paths with them. It was tainted, manipulative, and touched with moonlight, which left me wondering if it might be an immortal.”
Atlas and I exchanged glances as Hades lifted the pipe to his lips once more to take another hit.
“It remained within the Godsrealm for some time until it suddenly vanished a little over 20 years ago.” Hades paced through the room, and we fell into step at his side. “I sent servants to every region, every continent across the Godsrealm beyond Elythias, but no matter where they searched there was no sign of it.”
“Which is why you think it’s in the Mortalrealm,” I said.
He nodded. “I would send my servants to find whoever took it, but the laws of The Twelve prevent me from setting foot in the Mortalrealm, let alone interfering in their world by sending fae to conduct a retrieval.”
My eyes slid to Santor as he stopped to look at a nearby pedestal displaying a golden orb, the plate etched with an inscription in the old language.
‘Lover’s Sacrifice. Crafted by the witch Medea.’
I remained wary of the fae male, had aways felt unsure of him, of his loyalties—whether they remained with Hades, Atlas, or perhaps even only himself. Perhaps that was any of the fae or the gods, though. They dealt in trickery and deceit, only doing whatever benefitted them most.
“You still not getting along with Damien?” Hades asked.
Atlas scoffed. “He’s too closed off to the possibilities of what we could be if we stopped catering to the humans...”
Their voices quieted once more, the dull ringing filling my ears and, for a moment I could have sworn I heard Thalia’s voice whispering into my ear, her presence pressing into my back as if she stood behind me.
I’m worried about you.
I turned as the room darkened, melting like paint around me, save for her figure standing before a pedestal several feet away. She glanced over her shoulder, her eyes full of the hurt I’d seen that night.
“You good, Barrett?" Atlas asked, brows furrowed.
I blinked and she was gone, the ringing vanishing once more, and I turned to find Atlas looking at me with a frown.
“Yeah,” I said with a nod. “Thought I heard something.”
“Some of these items are prone to stirring up trouble despite the warding,” Hades said with a laugh.
“How could you have an audience without me?” a melodic female voice echoed from the entrance of the hall, and I turned to find a female floating toward us with the same grace as Selene. Her cheeks were dusted with a rich blush, her copper hair glittering with gold chains, the waves pulled back in complex braids that caged the remaining locks left to cascade down her back. The fabric of her soft green gown floated and swayed around her feet as she approached us.
