Page 40 of Song of Memories

"You don't want to know?"

Hades reached the opposite end of the hallway and turned around, a mischievous smirk on his face.

"Plausible deniability," Hades grunted. "I can't stop you from breaking the rules if I don't technically know it's happening."

Hades patted his thigh twice, and Cerberus bounded over to join him before they made a quick exit. Hermes looked over at Hercules, somewhat shocked.

"I didn't expect that reaction out of Hades," Hermes admitted. Hercules only shrugged, slipping his hand into Hermes's and walking them out the front door of Hades's home.

"I did." Hercules looked up at a tapestry depicting Hades and Persephone. "He's terrifying...but he's fair."

Hermes nodded in agreement, and the pair slipped back out into the night, the tiny jar labeled 'truth wine' in Hermes's pocket.

20

Eurydice had been staring out the window of Orpheus's kitchen, her eyes fixed on the tree tops of her fruit grove. It haunted her—the way she watched Pan help her grow it, and how Orpheus once again tried to take credit for it. She tried to focus on those small interactions instead of reckoning with the events of the night prior. Eurydice didn't remember much from the full moon ceremonies, but she remembered calling out to Pan. She retained every single second of their time together, the feeling of his body against hers. Pan set her body on fire, and he looked at her like he was willing to burn alive as collateral.

The scariest thing of all was the warm, fluttering feeling that had taken hold of Eurydice's chest ever since. She was no stranger to casual sex; nymphs typically viewed sex as casual as eating and breathing. Eurydice was horrified to realize when she woke up to Pan's sleeping frame that morning that it wasn't a simple infatuation she held for him. One night together, nestled underneath the open sky and surrounded by Dionysian rituals, and a deeper, more eternal feeling had shaken Eurydice to her core.

There was no gentle progression of feelings through time spent together. No, this was as if everlasting, romantic love for Pan had been hibernating in her heart and woke up starving. She had to rip herself away from Pan's sleeping body that morning, hating herself for every step she took farther away from him. It was the only thing she could do to even get to a place where she could think straight. Eurydice knew that she didn't remember all the time she'd spent with Orpheus, but not a single memory came even close to the way she felt about Pan.

Everything about Pan was right. Ironically, it felt like a melody. This was something that Eurydice could dance to, an ebb and flow of trust and attraction that had been built over centuries of time spent together. It seemed that all Eurydice's heart needed to get on board was the juxtaposition of Orpheus's increasingly unhinged behavior and one night with Pan.

No, not even one night, Eurydice's thoughts interrupted themselves. It was one head job. That's all it takes for you to turn your attentions to someone else. Oh, the gods below and in Olympus. Am I horrible person?

Eurydice had dismissed the staff from the kitchen that morning, wanting to wallow in peace in the one room of the house that Orpheus would never willingly go into. She looked out at the fruit grove and down at her empty plate, debating going to pluck something off the heavy branches to eat.

"I'm an awful cook, but I'm happy to pour you a drink if you’d like."

Eurydice squeaked and jumped up from her seat at the table, spinning around with her plate in her hand, holding it like a weapon.

"Hermes," Eurydice let out a relieved sigh. "I didn't think I'd see you here this morning, of all places." Eurydice blushed slightly and replaced the plate.

I can't say that the first person I wanted to see this morning was Pan's father. Eurydice knew their relationship was different than mortal sons and their fathers, but it still wasn't a good reminder of everything she walked away from.

Hermes was dressed casually, stripped of anything that would identify him as a god. His entire presence exuded immortality and power, but his notable winged accessories and staff were missing. He leaned against the door frame, crossing his arms across his chest. He looked rather pensive as opposed to flirtatious, which was not how Eurydice was used to seeing Hermes.

"God of tricksters, the unseen, messages..." Hermes chuckled, "the god of everything no one else wants to do, apparently. I can come up with a reason to be just about anywhere."

Eurydice shook her head, some of her anxiety thawing in Hermes's presence. His energy was similar to Pan's in some way, and it soothed her. It took her mind off the fact that she was in Orpheus's house.

"What's your excuse for being here this morning?"

"Friendship." Hermes winked.

"That's Philotes."

"Psh," Hermes scoffed in reply, "he's a minor deity at best. I'm major Pantheon, my love. Consider it an upgrade."

Eurydice laughed in spite of herself, nodding towards the empty seat at the kitchen table. "Well, god of friendship, do you want to take a seat? I'm assuming Orpheus is sleeping off another hangover."

Hermes gave a short bow in reply and sat down graciously, pulling a tiny, ancient looking jar out of a satchel. Eurydice hadn't even noticed that he was carrying anything before. The tiny bag had been hidden between Hermes's body and the door frame. She raised a brow.

"Should I be concerned?"

"You wound me!" Hermes cackled dramatically, going to tug on the small string that fastened the jar's lid. "I was just going to say that I have some kykeon if you want it."

"Psychedelic kykeon? If so, I'll have to pass."

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