Page 6 of A Touch of Chaos

His father, Cronos, God of Time, was free, wandering the Upperworld after nearly five millennia locked away. Cronos, the man who had envied his own father’s rule and took him down with a scythe that had recently resurfaced in the black market. The man who had feared the fated uprising of his children so much that he had swallowed them whole as they were born.

It was Zeus who had freed them from that horrible and dark prison, and when they had emerged, they had been fully grown and full of wrath. Even now, Hades could recall how he’d felt, the way anger had moved through his body, the way vengeance had crowded his mind, fed every thought. After they’d succeeded in overthrowing the Titans, those feelings followed him, bleeding into every aspect of his reign and rule.

It did not seem like so long ago.

“I do not know who else managed to escape with him,” Theseus said. “I must confess, I had to leave, but we are sure to find out in the coming days.”

“Youimbecile,” Hades seethed, his voice quiet. “Do you know what you have done?”

It was not as if Cronos had been asleep for the last five thousand years. He’d spent all his time in Tartarus conscious and planning revenge just as Hades was doing now. He worried over what his father would do first with his freedom. His thoughts turned to his mother, Rhea.

Rhea, who had tricked Cronos into swallowing a rock so that Zeus might live to overthrow him.

It was she who would receive Cronos’s wrath first. Hades was sure of it.

“Come on, Hades,” said Theseus. “We both know I do not make rash decisions. I have thought about this for a while.”

“And what exactly did you think? That you would release my father from Tartarus and he would be so indebted to you that he would join your cause?”

“I am under no such delusion,” said Theseus. “But I will use him as I imagine he will use me.”

“Use you?” Hades asked. “And what do you have to offer?”

Theseus grinned. It was an unsettling smile because it was so genuine.

“To start,” he said, “I have you.”

Hades stared for a moment. “So you will what? Give me as a sacrifice?”

“Well, yes,” Theseus said. “Cronos will need offerings to feed his power and strength. Who better than his son and a usurper too?”

“Your father was a usurper. Will you sacrifice him?”

“If the occasion calls for it,” Theseus said.

Hades was not surprised by the demigod’s answer. His honesty was also likely an indication of his belief that Hades would never leave this prison.

“What happens when you both decide the other must die?” he asked.

“I suppose it is good then that I am fated to overthrow the gods,” said Theseus.

Hades knew the demigod was referring to the prophecy of the ophiotaurus, a half-bull, half-serpent creature whose death assured victory against the gods.

Theseus had been the one to slay the monster, and he assumed that meant he would overthrow the Olympians,but the prophecy never specified how or whose victory would come about.

His arrogance would be his downfall, but Hades was not about to argue. Theseus could face the consequences of his hubris, as all inevitably did.

“You are not even invincible. Do you think you can win against the gods?”

Perhaps he should not have said it, but he wanted Theseus to know he knew his greatest weakness—that he could not heal like other gods. Dionysus had discovered as much when he was trapped on the island of Thrinacia. Hades wished more than anything that he could test it himself, and one day soon, he would.

Shadows darkened the lines on Theseus’s face, and an evil Hades had never seen before lurked behind his eyes. The demigod dropped the helm and drew a knife. Hades barely saw the gleaming blade before Theseus plunged it into his side. For a moment, his lungs felt locked, and he could not take in breath.

Theseus tilted his head up to meet Hades’s gaze, speaking between his teeth.

“Perhaps you can tell me what it’s like,” he said, twisting the blade before tearing it from Hades’s body.

Hades gritted his teeth against the pain, which was sharp and almost electric, radiating down his side. He refused to make a sound, to let the demigod know how he hurt.

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