“That’s the only reason you’re still wearing your skin,” said Hades.
Athena and Ares exchanged a glance. Tread carefully. He could burst out from under that boy-shaped mask anytime he wants. And that’s all it is. All it ever was. But what’s underneath it now is far worse than what used to be.
“My dog lies shivering at my palace steps and my wife stands a hostage. And that is my dead boy.”
“I was never dead,” Odysseus said quietly.
“You’re still dead. The breath in you is stolen. And dead boys don’t speak to me.” Hades turned toward him, and blood poured from Odysseus’ mouth. He fell before Athena could catch him, and his sword clattered to the rocks.
“Stop it!” She went to her knees. Odysseus’ hands pressed to his eyes and red leaked through his fingers. He bled from his nose and his ears, sprayed blood from his mouth like water from a blowhole. Virus blackened his skin and ate it away as she watched.
Athena grabbed the sword and leapt for Persephone. It was skewered through her side before anyone had time to block Athena’s way. Persephone didn’t cry out. Stabbing her was like running a blade through a loaf of dry bread. But Hades paid attention, and Odysseus stopped bleeding.
“Don’t do that again,” Hades warned.
“Don’t make me.”
“We just want to walk out of here, with Odysseus.” Ares spoke boldly, but his eyes were ringed with white. Seeing a sword shoved through their cousin had rattled him, but what did he think a hostage was for?
“You shouldn’t have taken her,” said Hades.
“It was the only way to get you to bargain,” Athena said.
Odysseus had regained his feet. He spat blood onto the rocks. It still dripped from one ear and blinked from his eyes like tears, but that was just leftovers. Ares’ wolves fussed around him in a circle and stole licks from his clothes and fingers.
“So let’s bargain.” Hades motioned for them to cross the river.
“Not so fast,” said Ares. “Not until a deal’s in place. We walk out of here, and cut her loose at the threshold.”
Hades shook his head. “You can’t trade him for her. She is already mine. He is already mine. Mine for mine. It doesn’t play.”
“We don’t have anything else.” Athena thought of Aphrodite but dismissed the idea quickly. It was going to be hard enough for Ares to leave Aphrodite behind as a voluntary guest, let alone as traded chattel, and Athena didn’t fancy having a brother-sister spat about it in front of their uncle.
“Not a trade at all, then.” Odysseus stepped forward and wiped blood from his nose onto the back of his arm. Athena half wanted to throttle him for opening his mouth, to ask him if he enjoyed hemorrhaging from all the holes in his face. But her other half was proud. Her Odysseus. Bold and two steps ahead of himself, as usual.
“Not a trade,” Athena agreed. “But a task. You’ve been known to lay tasks before, Uncle. They say you did it for Heracles lots of times, and he was only your half-nephew.”
“A task.” Hades smiled. Just enough time passed as he thought about it for Athena to dread putting it into his head. “A task it is. So here are the terms. The way up is through my palace. It is the only way up that will be allowed to you. And Persephone is released to me on the steps.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it. After that, you’ll be free to leave. If you can fight your way out.”
* * *
Athena pulled the sword out of Persephone’s side and threw it to Odysseus, trying to ignore the dry bits of flesh that stuck to the blade.
“Nothing starts until we reach the palace,” Athena said, and nudged Persephone forward to cross the Styx again. Hades showed his palms and agreed, backing away from the shore to let them come. Athena looked past Persephone at Ares, and back at Odysseus. She’d fought everything the underworld had thrown at her in the dark and she’d done it bare-fisted and mostly blind. Now she had another god of war, and a hero with nine lives. It could work. They could make it.
Or they could wind up in pieces with Odysseus’ ghost sucking blood off their severed stumps.
They left the river, soaked through with hate for what felt like the hundredth time, and followed Hades through tunnels and past fields of asphodel. It wasn’t long until they’d left the tunnels completely, headed toward the massive marble columns of Hades’ palace. Like everything else in the underworld, the palace was half-illusion. It appeared as a great rectangle. But the closer they walked, the larger it became. Columns stretched up farther and the shadows between grew darker. It was easier to look at than the walls of the tunnels, at least, constructed of plain white marble rather than shifting, iridescent stones, but at its steps it blotted out everything else. Athena wouldn’t have been able to see the top had she craned her head all the way back.