Page 27 of Song of Memories

Orpheus's jaw dropped at the sight of the god next to his wife and nodded dumbly.

Hermes tugged on Eurydice's elbow and pulled her away to the corner of the room again. His judgmental expression vanished as he looked down at Eurydice, chewing his lip as if he was debating whether or not to tell her something.

"If you ever need anything, call me. I'll answer. Pan speaks highly of you." Eurydice was taken aback by the offer. It wasn't every day that a god offered you the extreme favor of being able to call on them.

"I don't see why that would be necessary," Eurydice found herself pretending to assure Hermes that everything in her life was going swimmingly, "but I appreciate the great honor you've shown on me by extending such an offer." She bowed her head, but Hermes only let out a loud, guffawing noise.

"Ha! Keep those elaborate pleasantries for the rest of the pantheon." Wings appeared on Hermes's feet as he prepared to depart.

"Oh, and one more thing?" Hermes raised a brow and leaned in a little closer towards Eurydice. "Those lyrics that Orpheus was singing to you, sweet muse? He stole those from Sappho."

Hermes disappeared in a cloud of golden magic, leaving Eurydice in the wreckage of the banquet hall.

14

Hermes was never more grateful for his own swift footedness than for that very night. It had been slightly dastardly, letting Eurydice know that her beloved Orpheus hadn't actually written those loving lyrics about her, but he couldn't be too bothered to care. Pan was his son, after all, and although he had never acquired a strong sense of paternal instincts, it had certainly never been part of his reputation—he hated seeing Pan upset.

The creatures and inhabitants of the forest, associates of Dionysus and all the revelry that Greece produced, should never look so haunted. It was hardly a secret that Pan was in love with Eurydice, except to Eurydice. So what if he happened to poke a few more poles in Orpheus's shining reputation? He should actually try if he wanted to win his wife's affections back, not steal from other poets. Orpheus wouldn't even have a chance with Eurydice if she remembered the trials he put her through.

If Orpheus wanted to play dirty, then Hermes would play dirtier.

Hermes knew exactly where to find Pan—lurking in the forests. He had been spending most of his time there recently, except for when he snuck out to go visit Eurydice in the Underworld. Hermes had never been prouder of his son when Pan came to him with his plan to skirt around Underworld rules and visit Eurydice as often as he wished after her death. He was the son of a trickster, after all.

Pan was half asleep when Hermes crashed into the wooded clearing. There was an empty amphora next to him, and his lips were stained with wine. His magic was ebbing and flowing around him, unrestrained in his subconscious, reacting to his dreams. Flowers and entire shrubs grew up from the earth around Pan and wilted away back to nothing in seconds while the air around him was tinged with an emerald glow. His features were restless even in sleep. Pan jumped to his feet at the thunderous sound of a god crashing to the earth, his horns appearing on his head in a bright flash of magic.

"Who is it?" Pan bleated out into the clearing before his eyes could comprehend who was in front of him. As soon as he saw Hermes, his posture deflated, and he exhaled heavily. "What the fuck? Did you feel like giving me a heart attack?"

Hermes gracefully sat down on an upturned tree stump, crossing his ankle over the knee like a mortal woman of high society. He grinned from ear to ear, his golden magic reaching out and interacting with Pan's in the moonlight.

"I thought you would be happy to see your father."

Pan snorted. "You are a co-conspirator at best."

"Isn't that what every little boy wants growing up?" Hermes winked, and Pan scoffed, but there was no genuine frustration in his reaction.

"Well?" Pan stretched his arms above his head with a yawn, his bones popping as he did so. For the first time in his immortal life, Pan was feeling the weight of his existence and of his foolish heart. He could've sworn his joints ached and muscles tore a little more easily these days, now that Eurydice was truly forever out of his grasp.

"I thought you would want to know that I saw Eurydice tonight." Hermes raised an eyebrow, and Pan's body went rigid. He turned all his attention to Hermes, his cheeks flushing red. He nearly jumped over to his father, grabbing his shoulders.

"Is she all right? Do you think she was having a good time? I’m assuming she was at a party? What was she wearing? Does Orpheus know she prefers black wine to white wine?" Pan rattled off an obsessive number of questions before Hermes managed to stop him.

"I didn't leave her in peril, if that's your main question. Yes, she was at a party at Perseus's house tonight. Orpheus was performing there."

"Fucker." Pan released Hermes and took a few steps back. He ran his hand through his curly hair, pushing some of it off his forehead. "Did she look like she was enjoying herself?"

Hermes let out a short chuckle. "Ha! I've seen more lively people at funerals."

"That doesn't help me. You go to funerals of people you didn't like to celebrate," Pan deadpanned. "Was it like that or do you think she was enjoying herself?"

"She was not having a good time." Hermes shook his head. "Eurydice was hiding in a corner half the night while Orpheus dedicated a song to her with lyrics he stole from Sappho."

"That fucking pig," Pan hissed. His face turned redder with his anger while his hands drew up into fists. Pan started pacing through the clearing, his magic rolling off him in erratic waves. He pivoted between his human and satyr form, kicking up dirt with his frantic movements. "Eurydice should know what he did to her."

"I agree," Hermes hummed in agreement. "But you know the rules of the Underworld."

"Hades is a fair ruler! He cares for the young, for women, for victims. You would think he'd use a little judgement to bend the rules in this case!"

"Pan!" Hermes snapped, his eyes going wide. "You know as well as I do that Hades is the most honorable god in the whole damn pantheon of them. If the rules the gods preside by ever become up for interpretation, it won't always be Hades doing the interpreting. Then what do you think would happen?"

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