Page 114 of A Touch of Chaos

Hermes glared. “I think what you meant was ‘Thank you, Hermes. I had no idea you would be so helpful when I forced you to come to this island that is inhabited by deadly assassin birds,andby the way,I’ve been chased by them twice before.’”

Hades opened his mouth to respond, but Persephone spoke over him, knowing whatever was on the tip of her husband’s tongue would not be helpful. “That’s exactly what he meant, Hermes,” she said, glaring at Hades as she spoke. “Thank you.”

“At least someone appreciates my help,” Hermes said.

“Fucking Fates,” Hades muttered, rolling his eyes. “Let’s get out of here before those birds regroup.”

They crossed what remained of the shore, heading for the thicket of trees ahead.

“No, no, nope,” Hermes said as they neared. “I am not going in there.”

“Scared, Hermes?” Persephone asked.

“I just ruined my vocal cords to save us from those fucking birds, and you want to wander through their home!”

“The birds don’t live in the trees, Hermes,” said Hades, who had not stopped walking.

Hermes’s frustration vanished suddenly. “Oh,” he said and paused. “Well, where do they live then?”

“In the cliff side,” Hades replied.

“Oh.”

Hermes started to walk again, and Persephone fell into step beside him as they crossed the tree line.

“When did he become such an expert on birds?” Hermes muttered.

Persephone smiled. “I thought you were a warrior, Hermes,” she teased.

“Nature is a different kind of battlefield, Sephy.”

They were not beneath the cover of the trees long when they came to a sheer wall of rock. At first, she thought they were going to have to climb it, but then she noticed a narrow path worn into the side at a slow incline.

Seeing it brought about a deep sense of dread. It seemed too easy, like an invitation to something far more terrible, but she said nothing as they made their way up the cliff, which took them high above the trees, giving them a view of the endless ocean. From here, the world looked so beautiful, and she mourned that it was ruled by someone so terrible.

When they came to the top of the cliff, any feelingsshe had of admiration vanished, replaced by a sense of unease. It trickled down her spine and made her hair stand on end. She tried to keep from shivering but failed. The wind was colder here too.

Before them, a field stretched for miles. It was barren save for golden spikes sticking out of the ground. They looked like wheat. Far in the distance, on the opposite side of the island, was a great oak, and there, glimmering even in the grayish light, hung the Golden Fleece.

Persephone’s heart rose into her throat. The urge to teleport across the field overwhelmed her. She curled her fingers into fists to keep herself from giving in.

“I know you’re all about this hospitality thing,” said Hermes. “But you could have at least arrived onthatside of the island.”

Hades did not respond. He was looking at the ground.

“What is it?” Persephone asked.

“Earthbound warriors,” Hades said.

“You mean the wheat?” she asked.

“That isn’t wheat,” he said. “It is the tip of a spear.”

The tip of a spear, and there werehundreds.

“You mean…they are buried beneath this field?”

“They were sown,” he said. “With dragon’s teeth. They are called Spartoi, the earth-born.”

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