Calypso chuckled into her glass, and moved to the living room to sit. Thanatos went after her.
“You haven’t told us where we’re going,” Cassandra said. “Where Hades is.”
He and Calypso exchanged a look, and Cassandra ground her teeth. Their little god-moments were starting to get on her nerves. Oh, listen to the little mortal. Isn’t she cute? Isn’t she just precious, now that she can’t kill us?
But there had to be some way to kill him. Every god in the world was showing their underbelly. The god of death had to have one, too.
And I’ll find it. I might not be able to kill him with my hands, but I’ll kill him with something.
“Come and sit down for a few minutes,” he said. “Rest.”
“I don’t want to rest. I want to kill Hades, and all the gods I can find, so I can go home.” But not only that. Who knew what condition Hades was in. If he was already spreading disease wherever he went, then she didn’t have time to waste. Certainly not time to spend sipping sparkling lime water in Death’s living room.
Thanatos stood.
“As you wish. Come to the basement.”
So there is a basement.
The access was through the garage. As they descended the stairs Cassandra tried to put all thoughts of peeled eyeballs and girls on meat hooks out of her mind, but the unfinished state of the stairs didn’t help. Neither did the rough stone walls. It was such a sharp contrast to the rest of the house that it almost felt like descending into a cave.
Like descending into Olympus.
That one stupid day. The foolish pride of it and the disaster that awaited them. She and Athena had been no more than dogs with the scent of blood in their noses. They’d gone blindly, seeking meat in their teeth, and they’d paid the price.
On impulse, she reached back, slipped her hand into Calypso’s, and squeezed. The walk to the basement had to be bringing up similar memories for her, and hers were much worse.
I’ll get vengeance for Odysseus, too. I promise. Somehow.
She pulled her hand free before her thoughts turned too dark. She wanted to comfort Calypso, not turn her to dust.
“Isn’t there any better lighting?” Cassandra asked. “I can barely see my feet to keep from falling down the stairs.”
“Here. I know the way well.” Thanatos reached for her arm and drew her closer to his back. His fingers slid against her palm, testing the heat there as if he was trying to feel the rage licking through her fingers.
They descended the last step and hit a floor of hard-packed damp dirt. Thanatos moved away quickly, and Cassandra spun in the pitch black, half-certain her shoulder was going to bump into a hanging corpse. Then he lit a torch, and yellow light flooded the small room.
No corpses. Not much of anything, really. A few shelves of dusty books. An old stone table. Some candles. He moved along the walls, using his torch to light other torches, and made some lame joke about an earthquake striking at that instant and burying them all.
“Your sense of humor is even more twisted than Athena’s,” Cassandra said, and Calypso blinked.
“Athena didn’t have a sense of humor.”
Cassandra shrugged. She ran her hands down her legs, smoothing her skirt. Her most recent wave of anger had subsided and left her cold. She took a breath. The air in the basement smelled of worms and water.
“What are we doing down here?”
“Looking for a map,” Thanatos replied.
“To Hades? You need a map?” Her nose crinkled. “I thought you knew where he was.”
“It’s not as easy as all that. They don’t call him the Unseen One for nothing.”
Calypso laughed. “I thought they were just making fun of his helmet of invisibility.”
Thanatos laughed, too, then made a stern face. “Don’t get smart. This is going to be nasty business.”
“How’s that?” Cassandra asked. “How can looking for a map be ‘nasty business’?”