Page 38 of Patron of Mercy

Two steps past it, the only posting that mattered—maybe in the whole world—finally registered. He doubled back, snatched the poster off the wall, and rushed back to their table, where another bottle of wine had already been opened.

“I got the flaó. The waiter said—”

“Styx is playing in Ibiza.”

“O-kay?”

“Styx. One of the top five greatest bands of all time—”

“Depending on who you ask—”

“Is playing tonight. In Ibiza. We have to go.” Lach tapped the poster in front of Thanatos. “It’s Styx! Have you ever seen Styx? You have to see Styx.”

“I’ve seen the river,” Thanatos offered.

Lach made a sound, high and tight in the back of his throat. This wasn’t a matter for joking.

“Oh, Lach.” Thanatos’s dark eyes swam with concern. “Aren’t most of the band members kind of... getting on?”

“First of all, how dare you? Second, maybe. But that’s why wehaveto go. How many more concerts do you think they’ll have left?”

“On this plane? Not many.”

Lach froze. “Are you telling me that, in Hades, there are a bunch of great fucking musicians lounging around, giving concerts all the time? Are you saying, if I died, I could go see Tom Petty? I could go see Tom Petty in concert every gods damned day?” He dropped into his seat, his legs splayed out before him.

Thanatos refilled his wine glass, losing the battle to keep his lips turned downward. “If that’s what would make Tom Petty happy in Elysium, then yeah. I guess it’s possible.”

Lach threw his head back. “What the hell am I doing still alive then?” he demanded. “If I get myself killed, at least I’ll have that.”

“Always something to look forward to.”

Before he thought about it, Lach nodded enthusiastically, but as Thanatos’s slow smile spread, Lach bit the edges of his tongue. Thanatos had glorious warmth in his eyes that Lach absorbed like a man trapped in the Arctic, desperate for it. Tom Petty was great; Thanatos was better.

“Fantastic as that would be, could you come with me? I mean, going to concerts alone is okay, but—you could come, right?”

Thanatos frowned. “Well, no. That’s not really... how it works. I help souls find where they’re going, but Elysium’s not a place for gods to stay.”

“Well, there you go. Guess I have to keep ticking.”

Thanatos rolled his eyes. “You might tire of it one day.”

With a deep breath, Lach tried to dislodge the heaviness that sat on his chest. Much as he didn’t want to admit it, yeah, he might get tired one day. Spending every day alone, without people like him, without anybody, got old. It was hard to imagine how that feeling might outweigh his fear of what came after, especially if it meant he’d be somewhere he couldn’t find Thanatos, but it could happen.

But damn it all, they were going to see Styx, and this was not the day for that kind of anguished self-reflection.

“So we can go to the show?” Lach asked, leaning forward in his seat. He clasped his hands together under the table.

“We can go.”

“Awesome!”

The waiter returned with their dessert. It was fantastic, but in his excitement, Lach shoveled his half in his mouth—well, maybe a little more than his half. Guiltily, he scooted the plate with the last bite across the table. Thanatos smiled around his fork as he ate it.

“We could get another,” Lach suggested.

Thanatos shook his head. “Things like that are always more enjoyable the first time.”

Lach bunched up his napkin, dropped it on the table, and did his best not to think about what other indulgences might only be pleasant for one round.

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