Page 171 of A Touch of Chaos

Persephone teleported, and Artemis followed.

By the time they reached him, Theseus was gone,and Apollo lay on the ground, burned beyond recognition. Artemis fell to her knees, hands hovering over Apollo as if she were too afraid to touch him.

“Heal!” she screamed, the word drawn out and guttural. “Heal!”

Persephone felt dizzy, and just as she thought she would collapse, Hades’s magic consumed them. Suddenly, they were in the Underworld, and someone was shouting for the Golden Fleece. It was a few moments before Persephone realized it was her.

“It’s too late, Persephone,” Hades said.

“It’s not too late,” she said, shoving him away. “Get the fleece!”

“Persephone,” Hades said again, reaching for her.

“Why isn’t anyone getting the fleece?” she screamed, whirling to find everyone—Aphrodite and Hephaestus, Hermes and Hecate, Sybil and Harmonia. Then her eyes dropped to Artemis, who had managed to lay Apollo’s head in her lap, and it was then that she understood what Hades was saying.

She went to her knees.

Apollo was dead.

Part III

“For no god may undo what another god has done.”

—OVID,METAMORPHOSES

CHAPTER XXXII

THESEUS

Theseus stood on the porch of his mother’s home, the House of Aethra, which overlooked the entirety of New Athens.

Parts of the city were in ruin.

The Acropolis, once the tallest building in New Athens, an icon of the city, was no more, toppled by his father’s earthquake. Its collapse was perhaps the greatest symbol of his triumph, but it was marred by the presence of Hades’s abhorrent club. He had hoped it would fall during the earthquake like Alexandria Tower, but it had not even cracked.

Seeing it made him angry, and for a moment, he almost forgot that he should be celebrating today’s success. Nevernight might be a stain on his city, but it would soon be eliminated.

Everything will come in time, he assured himself.

What was it mortals said? Sometimes things had to break to be rebuilt?

And he was just getting started.

Tomorrow, when morning came, he would purge the city. He would drag every priest and priestess from their temples and slaughter them in the streets. What was not destroyed by earthquake or flood—every business and building, every sacred garden and grove—would go up in flame.

He would destroy every holy place until no sign of the Olympians remained.

Until then, the city slept, oblivious to the horror that would befall them tomorrow—the horror that would begin tonight.

“All communications are down,” said Helen. “How do you expect me to share your accomplishments beyond New Athens?”

“Do you not trust me to give you what you need, Helen?”

He looked at her, but she said nothing.

“From this day forward, you are responsible for how the world will see my creation. It will be you who shares the beauty and prosperity of New Athens under my rule. Your words will bring people from all over New Greece to witness the paradise I have created. It is you who will ensure I am worshipped.”

“You have put a lot of faith in my words,” she said.

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