Page 105 of A Touch of Chaos

Since the moment Theseus had told him the God of Time was freed from Tartarus, Hades had felt an unimaginable sense of dread, and now that he was home, that feeling had only grown worse.

He knew his father would come for him. He would come for Zeus and Poseidon too.

But before that, he would go after their mother.

Hades rose from bed and dressed, and with a final look at Persephone’s sleeping form, he called up his magic and vanished.

Hades manifested at the Edge of the World. It was an open-air circular temple made of white marble columns. It was so tall, it touched the clouds, which billowed like blue and silver waves in the night. From here, one could look upon the Divine and witness Atlas straining beneath the weight of the Earth or Nyx casting her veil over the world, tangled within Erebus’s dark embrace.

It was the temple of divine direction, and it was here where Rhea sat staring off toward the east.

From where he stood, she was only a shadow, the edges of her body illuminated by starlight, but as his eyes adjusted, he could see that she wore robes the color of the sunset, cast in orange and red hues. Her long, black hair cascaded down her back like the fringes of night, and a turret crown gleamed like the rising sun atop her head. On either side of her lay her two loyal lions.

It would have been a breathtaking scene had it not been for the fact that the lions were dead and a riverof blood was running from them and Rhea, over the mosaic floor, to his feet.

He was too late.

As he approached, he could hear her ragged breathing. His heart beat in tandem, breaking with every step. He rounded on her and saw a great spear embedded in her breast. She turned her head and looked at him, and he recognized the shadow in her eyes.

It was death.

“Have you come to take me away, my son?”

“It seems I must,” he said. Hades knelt beside his mother. “When did he come?”

He did not wish to say Cronos’s name for fear that his father might hear.

“I do not know,” she said. “Time is different when he is near.” She turned her head away and looked east again. “I knew when he had entered the world again.” She spoke in a whisper. “I could feel it in my heart.”

“Why did you not hide?”

She smiled a little. She smiled like him.

“Perhaps…this is what I deserve,” she said.

“For what?” Hades demanded.

“For not protecting you,” she said. “For saving the one child who would become nothing more than a cruel and wicked king.”

He wanted to say something, to ease her guilt, but he had to admit that he had wondered often why she had chosen to save Zeus when she could have tricked Cronos from the start.

“I am here to watch the dawn,” she said. “Do you think Eos will open her gilded doors for me?”

“If she does not, I will knock on them for you,”he said, following her gaze to the gates behind which the morning sun was trapped, its crimson rays reaching beyond their great height, bleeding into the night. “Are you afraid?” Hades asked as the light grew more golden minute by minute.

“Yes,” she said, and he took her hand. “Will I remember you?”

“In time,” he said.

She turned her earthly gaze back to him. “Do you promise?”

“I promise,” he said.

She made a small sound, like a satisfied sigh, and golden light warmed her face. Just then, Eos cast open her great doors and stood in saffron-colored robes, wreathed in the blinding rays of the dawn.

And in that brilliant light, Hades held his mother’s hand until she was cold.

Later, after Hades had brought Rhea to the Underworld, he stood on the balcony at the front of his palace, ignoring the stabbing pain in his side. It was radiating like heat across his stomach. He knew that wasn’t a good sign and he’d have to tell Hecate soon, but for now, he watched his realm slowly brighten beneath his muted sun.

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