Page 116 of A Touch of Chaos

“I think,” Hades said, “what you meant to say was ‘Thank you for saving my life, Persephone. If it wasn’t for my idiocy, we wouldn’t even have been in that situation to begin with. As a token of my appreciation, here is a snack.’”

Hermes slammed his lips together and crossed his arms over his chest. “You’re never on my side,” he said.

Persephone tried not to laugh, but Hades sighed and started across the field, arming himself with a spear as he went. Persephone followed. The ground was now springy under her feet, making it a little harder to walk on. When her stomach growled again, she broke the bar and offered Hermes half.

“Thanks, Sephy,” he said, and then he hesitated. “I am thankful you saved us from my idiocy.”

“I know, Hermes,” she said and smiled at the god.

“You’re a really great friend, Sephy,” he said. “Sometimes I don’t think I deserve—”

His words faltered, and so did Persephone’s steps as the ground began to shift beneath them. There were several crisp snaps as warrior after warrior broke free from her bindings, and before they could flee, they were surrounded.

“Maybe stronger vines next time, Sephy,” said Hermes.

She was already trying to plan her next move when Hades materialized beside them and flung out his hand. Beneath his magic, the warriors turned to dust.

Persephone tilted her head back and looked up at Hades, who was peering down at her.

“Fuck hospitality,” he said, and then they teleported and came to stand before the oak tree where the Golden Fleece hung.

She had known from a distance that the tree would be grand, but nothing could have prepared her for its greatness. The oak was massive, with thick, long-reaching limbs that wound and spiraled, some so heavy they had bowed beneath their own weight and now touched the ground.

But what stunned Persephone was the dragon-like creature whose body was coiled around the base of the tree like a serpent. It was covered in shimmering scales that gleamed like fire. Its eyes were open and unblinking, ever watchful.

Nearby, beneath the fern-covered boughs of the tree, stood Ares.

He was large and imposing, his horns only adding to his dreadful appearance. They were long and sharp, curving behind his head. He wore armor that burned gold and a helm that matched. There was no kindness in his face, only malice.

“You killed my warriors,” said Ares.

“They will be reborn,” said Hades.

Ares’s mouth hardened. “You come to my island uninvited to steal from me,” said the God of War. “And you insult me by harming what is mine.”

“We have not come to steal,” Persephone said, angered by his accusation, though she regretted drawing his furious attention.

“So you have come to ask for a favor? Even worse, traitor goddess.”

“We are not here for ourselves,” Persephone said. “We are here for Harmonia. Aphrodite’s sister is dying.”

At her words, a little bit of Ares’s composure slipped, his angry eyes flashing with concern before he recovered and seemed to dig further into his aggression.

“You lie,” he said, looking at Hades. “I can smell the blood.”

“I did not lie,” Persephone said between her teeth. “Harmonia is dying. The Golden Fleece is the only thing that will save her!”

“And your lover, it seems,” said Ares. “Tell me, why should I help you?”

“Because you have no choice, Ares,” said Hermes. “I have come to collect my favor, one of many, might I add, that you owe me from all the times I saved your ass.”

“As helpful as that would be, I am not inclined to grant it.”

“You would risk divine retribution?” Persephone asked.

“Currently, Hermes is mortal, and by divine law, I am not obligated to uphold a promise made to a traitor.”

Persephone looked at Hades for confirmation of his words, but he wasn’t looking at her. He was staring darkly at Ares.

---