Ghost Town (Hound of Hades Book 3), page 23
But something pushed back the cold. Something that began as a ball of heat deep in my core and expanded outward until that brief surrender was only a memory.
Yep, I was still pissed. And every word Hades said just made it worse.
“Ginevra can get away with saying something like that. You can’t. She was off in Cairo when all this went down, whereas with your Guardian in the middle of it, I’m going to bet you had a front-row seat to the whole thing. Which means you know perfectly well that there was no defiance involved. You saw her try to hold them back. You saw me do everything I could to save her. And you saw us succeed. You were fine with the way we did it, too, or you never would have accepted Kimmy’s ridiculous attempt at playing Guardian. It’s a bit late to change your mind now, just because you didn’t notice that a couple of your subjects had slipped out the back door until it was almost too late.”
Yes. The voice grew colder, sharper. In my head, I saw the stone of the old temple, felt it leaching the heat from my bones. I was there. I observed every moment, witnessed your every action. I watched as you hesitated in your duties at the most crucial moment. It was then that you showed me you could not be trusted.
“You’re talking about when I didn’t kill Lissa. Your High Priestess. Are you going to stand there—or whatever it is you’re doing—and tell me you would rather have had me shoot her than wait a few extra seconds to see if our plan would work?” I shook my head. “I call bullshit. I know how gods feel about their Guardians. You use us, but you love them. It’s all right, I’m not jealous. I’m just not buying that you see me trying to save her life as some great betrayal. I refuse to believe that you weren’t holding on until the last second like the rest of us, hoping we would find a way. And most of all, I don’t believe you would cut her off from the temple forever because of something she had no control over.”
Death is nothing to a Guardian of the underworld.
“Lissa may be a Guardian, but she’s also human. And dying is kind of a big deal to us humans. And you’re not the only one who loves her, you know. She had people on this side who weren’t ready to let her go.”
If she could have, she would have told you that it would have been no burden for her to cross into my realm.
“Yeah, well, I’m not a Guardian. I don’t look at things the way a Guardian does. And the choice wasn’t hers, it was mine. Say whatever you want to me, it won’t change the fact that I’m never going to regret saving her life.”
Mortal concerns stayed your hand, and that hesitation caused damage to the underworld that you cannot repair.
“Don’t give up on us yet. We’ll find a way.”
You cannot. Did you think I was unaware of your attempt? The gate opened, the door that should have drawn him back. He has grown strong enough to refuse the call. There is nothing more for you to do. It is too late.
Maybe I was kidding myself thinking we still had a chance. If Hades himself said it was impossible, who was I to argue? “Let’s say you’re right. Let’s say we screwed up so badly that there’s nothing we can do. You’re going to kill me for that, and lose your High Priestess forever? After everything we’ve been through?”
I owed you a debt, Marked, for what you did for me. But that debt has been repaid. And the fact that I cannot fully trust you makes you a threat to the underworld.
“Fine. I hesitated. I’m a threat. Whatever. What about Lissa? If you’re going to punish her for something she couldn’t control—”
My business with her does not concern the Marked. All I can tell you is that this is not punishment.
“Could’ve fooled me. Ginevra, too. That’s how she talked about it: clean up your mess, or else.”
She is not a Guardian. She knew only what I could tell her. I could not give her a full explanation, for the same reason I could not tell my High Priestess why I had sent my hellhounds into the city.
“Yeah, yeah. The Marked handle the mortal world, the Guardians handle spiritual business. As if the world ever breaks down into such neat categories. Do I need to remind you that you’re a god? You can tell us whatever you want.”
No. I cannot. This limitation was placed upon us in the early days of the war. No one knows who is responsible, only that it weakened them nearly to the point of destruction. They risked this for the sake of their alliance, to protect the Marked and Guardians who served their allies, or so the legend goes. If not for the separation between the two, Guardians would be free to locate any Marked they chose in the mortal world, and the Marked would enlist the aid of Guardians for the smallest of efforts, tearing the mortal world apart with wars of magic. This working is not for me to undo.
I hadn’t known the gods had legends of their own. The gods had always unnerved me, but this made me uneasy in a totally different way. It was kind of like growing up and finding out your parents never actually knew everything, they were just faking it the same as the rest of us. “So that’s why you haven’t been talking to me. Because you couldn’t.”
I was unaware of your attempts.
“But Lissa is a Guardian. At least tell her and give her the chance to save herself. I’ll… I don’t know, I’ll hold my hands over my ears and hum or something.”
I have already told the High Priestess everything.
Come to think of it, Lissa had said something about how Hades had explained everything to her. I just hadn’t listened. I had assumed she didn’t know what she was talking about. I guess that was what I got for showing any trust in the god I had served for years. “And did you give her the chance to defend herself?”
She did not ask for such a chance. She has agreed to do as I ask.
I whirled on Lissa. “No. You’re not going to just lie down and accept this. I don’t know what he told you, but it doesn’t matter. You’re his High Priestess, and mine, and you are not going to give up. Not without a fight.”
But Lissa shook her head. Her eyes still had a dull sheen, but she also looked… calm. At peace. And when she spoke, she no longer sounded quite as broken as she had a moment ago. “Hades is right. I’ve agreed to do as he asks. I…” She tilted her head. “I guess there’s nothing that says I can’t tell you.”
You may, Guardian. I could have sworn I heard a hint of gentle affection in Hades’s voice.
“Stefan shouldn’t be in this world,” Lissa began.
“Gee, you think?”
“I mean this world doesn’t want him here. The underworld doesn’t want him here, either. His own essence doesn’t want him here. When he crossed into this world, he couldn’t cross over completely. He left a tiny piece of his essence behind. And when he crossed over, he came through me. I’m his connection. If I’m cut off from Hades…” She swallowed. It took her a moment to continue. “If I’m cut off from Hades, the doorway that brought him through closes completely, and it will pull him through no matter how hard he fights.”
“Hang on. We closed that doorway. If we hadn’t, a lot more than him and McCabe would have come through.”
“We made it so the dead could no longer cross through me. We didn’t cut me off from the underworld completely. We couldn’t, not if I was going to continue as a Guardian. There isn’t enough room for anyone else to make it through, but there is enough to connect him with the piece of himself he left behind.”
“We tried pulling him through a gate once. Have you forgotten how that ended?”
“This isn’t like that. It’s more like… part of him is still there, and he can’t be fully separated from that part of himself. Spirits aren’t like bodies—you can’t split them apart. If that doorway closes completely, all of him will end up either in this world or in the other. And that part of him got left behind in the first place because it can’t leave.”
It made about as much sense to me as any Guardian stuff ever did. Which was to say, not much. But if Lissa said this was the way to get him back to the underworld, I trusted her.
That didn’t mean I was going to let her do it.
“That doesn’t mean you have to cut yourself off from Hades forever. Whatever you need to do, can’t you just do it temporarily? Until he gets back to where he belongs?”
“No. As long as I am a Guardian of Hades, I will remain connected to the underworld. And when a Guardian renounces their god, it is permanent.”
I could still feel Hades’s presence around us, pushing in on my skull, pushing out from under my skin. He was the one I addressed now. “You know she wouldn’t be renouncing you, not really. So why wouldn’t you take her back?”
This, too, is a rule I did not set in place.
“For all-powerful beings, you sure do have a lot of rules.”
I have never claimed to be all-powerful.
“Yeah, well, you brought me back from the dead. Twice. I have a hard time believing you couldn’t take Lissa back if you wanted to.”
The High Priestess has explained the situation to you. Believe, or do not.
“It doesn’t matter whether it’s true or not, because we’re going to find another solution. So don’t you dare touch her—or let Ginevra get anywhere near her, for that matter—until I tell you it’s over.” I’m hardly the poster child for showing proper respect to the gods, but even I wouldn’t normally have dared to talk to a god like that. But what did it matter at this point?
But Hades’s answer, when it came, was unmistakably gentle. I would not presume to harm my High Priestess in such a way.
I had known that the affection that Guardians felt for their gods went both ways. But knowing it was one thing; hearing genuine emotion in a god’s voice as he talked about a mortal was something else entirely. Underneath the cold and the uncompromising stone, I could hear the love he felt for her, and the grief.
Lissa nodded in confirmation. “This is something I can only do myself.”
“Well, you’re not going to. Because we’ll find another way.” I was beginning to feel like a person who denies that the house is on fire even after they’ve seen the flames. At a certain point, there’s nothing to do but shake your head in pity for that person and move on. Hades had accepted this. Lissa had accepted it. I was the only one still talking about doing something they had both determined was impossible. And they knew a whole lot more about it than I did. But what else was I supposed to do? Stand back and watch while Lissa did this? And then what? Lie down and die like Ginevra had expected?
If surrender were in my blood, I would never have made it as long as I had. Maybe I was in denial; maybe there was no hope. But I would give up when Hades ripped his Mark out of me, and not a moment before.
“Every moment we delay, Stefan gets stronger,” Lissa said softly, the way she might have spoken to someone with a terminal diagnosis. Which, I supposed, wasn’t that far off the mark. “And the longer he’s loose in the mortal world, the more damage he can do. I have to do this, and I have to do it now.”
“And what about afterward?” I demanded of Hades. “What are you going to do once we’re gone? You do realize we’re the only reason you still have any power in the city.”
My power will wane for a time. New servants will be chosen, and my strength will return. This is the eternal cycle of existence.
“So you’re fine with giving up your territory like that?”
I will grieve to leave my consort and her allies defenseless. If the city falls to those with malicious intentions, and if the underworld crumbles along with my influence in the mortal world, I will mourn for the living and the dead alike. But that does not change what must be done.
“So how are you going to do it?” I tried to sound like the thought didn’t bother me. Just a little fatal soul surgery—no big deal. “For that matter, why hasn’t Ginevra already done it?”
She does not have the power. Only I can do what must be done. I will give you until dawn tomorrow.
I frowned at his words. Then, slowly, I smiled. “You think we still have a chance.”
You cannot repair the damage. I know this. Your attempt has already failed, and the spirit only grows stronger.
“So then why not do it now? Why give me time?” I hoped he wasn’t going to take me up on my challenge. But somehow, I knew he wouldn’t.
It is only right to give you a chance to resolve your affairs in the mortal world.
“That sounds nice and all, but I know how being Marked works. I’m not supposed to have a life of my own. Isn’t that why we’re in this position in the first place? Because I let myself think about something other than what the temple wanted from me? You can’t say I shouldn’t have been thinking about anything beyond my duties, and then give me a pass to go wrap up any loose ends in my personal life. You don’t want to lose us, and trust or no trust, you still think I can fix this.”
Dawn tomorrow. I am sorry. And Hades’s presence vanished, as abruptly as if he had never been here at all.
Chapter 28
I gave myself a quick once-over, inside and out. Everything still seemed the same to me. Plus I was still alive, which was a big clue. Hades hadn’t done anything to my Mark just yet. Which meant he was going to keep his word, and I still had time to fix this.
If I wanted to.
Maybe I had betrayed Hades’s trust. From where I was standing, it seemed more like the other way around. I had done everything I could to save Lissa’s life and keep the dead from crossing over, and I still didn’t see why those two goals had to be mutually exclusive. And what about the years before that moment? I had given Hades everything. Everything I was, everything I might have had. I had let the temple shape me into a weapon. I had killed for him, again and again, with no regrets—at least none I hadn’t buried in the darkest corners of my mind. I had given up my future afterlife so I could come back here and keep on doing what I did for him, and I hadn’t regretted that either. Because I had thought he deserved my loyalty. Because I had trusted him not to use my life frivolously.
And now he was willing to toss it away. Over a few seconds. Over a life I had saved, and a temple that was still functioning because of it.
Did I care about fixing his problems for him after that? Maybe he could go ahead and get a taste of what it would be like trying to keep control of the city without me. Sure, it meant I would die, but that thought didn’t hold the power over me that it had before I became Marked. It wasn’t as if I hadn’t done it before. Honestly, the anticipation was the worst part. And I wasn’t exactly going to live to a ripe old age no matter what choice I made. It’s kind of a side effect of being Marked. When the gods use a weapon long enough, eventually it breaks. At least this way I wouldn’t die serving a god I was no longer sure deserved that much from me.
But if Hades lost the city, he wasn’t the only one who would feel the impact. Whatever his flaws, Hades wanted the best for all the mortals within his territory. I couldn’t say the same for Zeus, who would sweep in to snatch the city for himself the second Hades was out of the picture. Zeus and his cronies wanted revenge on humanity for turning away from the gods. The people of the city deserved better than whatever form his vengeance would take.
And then there was the underworld. If Hades fell, I wasn’t sure what would happen to it. After what Hades had said, I suspected even he didn’t know for certain. But anything that threatened Hades threatened his realm. And that, in turn, threatened the peaceful existence that his presence brought to the city’s dead.
I had turned down the afterlife when I had the choice, and not just because of my loyalty to Hades. No matter how great life after death might be, in my mind there was no way it could measure up to the in-your-face reality of actual life. However much some part of me might have called out for home when I sensed Hades’s realm through that door, I didn’t have a problem with the thought of never going back. This was my world, my home, and a few years or months or even weeks in a living breathing body was worth more than whatever paradise Hades could offer. But that wasn’t the choice that the current inhabitants of Hades’s realm would get. They wouldn’t get a choice at all. They would fall into the same eternal sleep as anyone who dies outside the territory of a god with an afterlife to call their own. Either that or cease to exist entirely. I wasn’t sure. Either way, they hadn’t done anything to deserve that.
And I knew some of those people personally. Colin. Everyone else who had died in the attack on the temple. I wasn’t about to do anything that put their souls at risk. I had already failed them enough.
I didn’t know whether I wanted to fight for Hades anymore. But I could still fight for the dead, and for the living.
Then there was the fact that Stefan was still loose in the city. Lissa wasn’t wrong—the more time went by, the stronger he got, and the more danger the city was in. How long before he stopped caring about the difference between the innocent and the guilty, if he hadn’t already crossed that line?
And… there was Lissa.
If we could fix this another way, Lissa wouldn’t have to take that last terrible option. Maybe I didn’t know how I felt about Hades right now, but I knew how Lissa felt. She wasn’t angry. She wasn’t resentful. She believed he wouldn’t have asked this of her unless it was the only option, and that meant she would do it no matter the cost to herself. And I knew what that cost would be. It would break her.
I didn’t want to see her broken. And Kimmy would kill me if she came back and found out I had let Lissa do this. I could hear her now, ranting about how she had literally bled, all over the carpet no less, and that knife probably hadn’t even been sanitary, and she had gone into that ritual not even knowing for certain that she would survive it, and all for nothing, because Lissa had gone and walked away from the only thing that made her life worth living. I had to listen to enough of Kimmy’s rants on a daily basis as it was. If there was anything I could do to avoid another, well, then that was what I was going to do.
