Her heart aching, she slid down the wall to crouch in the corner as her teary gaze remained on Acheron and what was left of him.
She'd thought his death would bring her relief. Instead agony over his loss tore through her with a finality that left her bereft of any thought. Only raw emotion.
It hurt on a level she'd never known existed.
The king's cry of pain matched the one in her soul as Apollo took Ryssa from his arms and he realized that his heir was dead.
For all his dignity and power, the king crawled on the floor to Styxx and screamed as he rocked his son against him.
No one mourned Acheron.
No one save her.
Unable to stand the sight, she returned to her temple where she shattered every mirror, every piece of glass and pottery. Her rage roiled through the room, laying waste to everything around her.
What had she done?
"I let him die."
No, she'd tried to kill him. Last night, she'd wanted him dead. But never had she dreamed just how much he meant to her.
His touch, his friendship . . .
Now he was gone. Forever.
"I love you, Acheron," she sobbed, tearing at her hair.
It's over. No one will ever know about the two of you now. You're safe.
It seemed so petty a concern compared to the fact that she'd live out eternity without ever seeing his face again . . .
Apollymi gasped as she felt the weight in her chest lift. Without being told, she knew that she now had the ability to leave Kalosis.
Leave . . .
"No!" she screamed as she realized the significance of that. There was only one way for her to gain her release.
Apostolos was dead.
Those three words chased themselves around in her head until she was sick from them.
Unwilling to believe it, she ran to her pond and summoned the universal eye. There in the water, she saw Xiamara lying dead on the palace floor and Apostolos . . .
No!
From the deepest part of her being, a scream of rage and grief swelled and when she gave vent to it, it shattered the pool and rocked the garden around her.
"I am Apollymia Thanata Deia Fonia!" she screamed until her throat was raw and bleeding.
She was ultimate destruction.
And she was going to bring her son home . . .
May the gods have mercy on each other because she was going to have none for them.
June 25, 9527 BC
Tartarus
Hades, the Greek god of death and the Underworld, stood in the center of his throne room, staring in disbelief at their newest arrival who lay in one of the darkest cells of Tartarus.
And he hadn't put him there . . .
He looked down at the timepiece on his wrist and ground his teeth. It was still three months before his wife would be returned to the Underworld to be with him. But honestly, he had to speak with her.
It couldn't wait.
"Persephone?" he called, hoping her mother wasn't close enough to hear him. The old bitch would have a stroke if she caught them together. Not that it would be a bad thing . . . if only it would kill her.
An image of his wife flickered in the darkness by his side. "Butterbean!" Persephone breathed. "I was just missing you something terrible."
He really hated the nicknames she came up with for him. Thank the gods that she only used them when the two of them were alone. Otherwise, he'd be the most mocked of all gods. But he could forgive his beautiful wife anything. "Where's your mother?"
"Off with Zeus looking over some fields, why?"
Good. The last thing he needed was for Demeter to come in and catch them talking.
But that brought him back to his current "dilemma." Anger swept through him as he gestured toward the wall that showed the cells where his prisoners were kept. "Because I'm getting really sick of cleaning up the messes of the other gods and right now I'd love to know whose ass I need to bust over this latest fiasco."
She solidified before him. "What's happened?"
Taking her hand, he led her to the cell where they could see inside, but the occupant inside was completely unable to see them.
At least that was the normal case. In this one, who knew what the occupant could and couldn't see?
He pointed to the blue-fleshed god who lay cuddled into a ball on the floor. "Any idea who killed that and sent it here?"
Eyes wide, Persephone shook her head. "What is it?"
"Well, I'm not completely sure. I think he's a god . . . Atlantean . . . maybe. But I've never seen anything like him before. He came in a short time ago and hasn't moved. I'd try to destroy his soul and send him into complete oblivion, but I don't think I have the powers to do it. In fact, I'm pretty sure that just by trying, all I'd do is piss him off."
Persephone nodded. "Well, sweetie, my advice to you is if you can't defeat it, befriend it."
"Befriend it how?"