Page 160 of A Touch of Chaos

“For now, I can forge healing arrows from the Golden Fleece,” said Hephaestus, which would mean they could easily be used during battle if any of them were injured. “But it is a finite resource. Once it is gone, it is gone.”

Finite, Hades thought. He wanted it to be infinite, but he knew that was not possible. The fleece had belonged to Chrysomallos, a winged ram born from the coupling between a mortal woman and Poseidon, and even if they were to attempt to recreate those circumstances—which he never would—it did not mean it would produce another golden ram.

“I have one more request,” said Hades. Withdrawing the lion’s claw from his pocket, he handed it to the god. “When I was in the labyrinth, I encountered the Nemean lion. Its claws happened to cut through Theseus’s net. I was only able to come away with one, however. Can you forge a blade?”

“I can,” Hephaestus said. “Perhaps two if I can split it.”

“Whatever you can manage,” said Hades.

Hephaestus set the claw aside. “Do you wish to see what I have made for your wife?”

“Of course,” Hades said.

Hephaestus moved across the room toward a table that was covered with a heavy linen cloth. As he pulled it away, he revealed several weapons—bows andgolden-tipped arrows, spears, and a trident—but it was the black armor and gold bident that drew Hades’s attention.

The armor was in pieces—a breastplate and armored skirt, engraved with a flourish of gold details the god had likely done by hand. The bident looked as though it had been found in a garden, covered in vines and flowers. It was entirely ornamental.

“Hephaestus,” Hades said, taking the bident in hand. It was light despite the added florals, which were mostly clustered at the base of its prongs. “This is…too beautiful to see battle.”

“If the funeral games go as planned, then perhaps it never will.”

They could only hope.

“Hephaestus!” Aphrodite called.

Her voice echoed with alarm in the cavernous forge, raising the hair on the back of Hades’s neck. Her call was followed by a sharp yelp. They both teleported to her instantly, fearing the worst, finding that she had slipped and fallen coming down the steps.

“Hades,” Aphrodite said as she tried to rise to her feet. “You must go—”

Her words were cut off by a cry of pain as she put pressure on her foot. She started to collapse, but Hephaestus caught her and lifted her into his arms.

“You must go to Persephone,” she said as Hephaestus carried her out of the stairwell into his forge. “Everything is ruined. Our plan for the funeral games, it will not work now!”

“I do not understand,” said Hades as Hephaestus set her on one of his tables. Now they could see that herankle was swollen and bruised. Hephaestus wrapped his hand around it, and Aphrodite moaned as his magic healed.

When he was finished, she took a breath. “I hate being mortal.”

“You were saying, Aphrodite?” Hades asked, growing impatient.What about Persephone?

“Helios is claiming he witnessed Persephone murder Demeter,” said Aphrodite. “It is all anyone can talk about, which means not only will the announcement of the funeral games be overshadowed, but our purpose is meaningless. We can hardly point out that Theseus has murdered gods when Persephone has done the same.”

“It is not the same,” Hades snapped.

“Do you think the mortal world will care about details? A god killer is a god killer.”

Hades did not care what the mortal world thought. He cared about Persephone and how this would affect her.

He glanced to his left where the weapons Hephaestus had made for them gleamed and picked up the trident.

“Hades, what are you going to do?” Aphrodite asked, an element of warning in her voice.

“Kill a god,” he answered.

“Do you really think that is the best course of action given everything?”

“Are you really going to ask me that?”

“Do not make it any easier for the world to side with Theseus, Hades,” said Aphrodite. “We still need followers. We still need worship.”

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