Page 6 of Patron of Mercy

It still hurt to hear it though. His tongue was dry in his mouth. Unsure how to follow that up, he stayed quiet until Thanatos threw him a bone. He was still that generous, at least.

“Hermes said you had something important to tell me—something that might help people.”

“Yeah.” Lach stared down at his pizza, greasy glory and all, and realized he didn’t want to eat it. He pushed his plate toward the middle of the table and leaned forward on his elbows. “Nothing’s growing.”

“Persephone comes back in springtime, and Demeter makes sure the plants grow so humans don’t starve. That’s the deal.”

Lach cocked a brow. Humans starved all the time, all over the place. But he supposed that wasn’t Demeter’s fault. Humans were perfectly capable of hurting themselves. There was plenty of food to go around, but some places had too much and wasted it, and others didn’t have near enough.

“I don’t know what to tell you. Maybe she’s not as happy to see her daughter as she used to be. But she’s throwing some kind of fit, and if nothing starts growing, in a few months, people are going to start dying.”

“And you’ve got some way to make crops grow?” Thanatos asked.

Admittedly, Lach wasn’t known for his agricultural prowess.

Lach ran his tongue along the edge of his teeth, leaned back, and shrugged. “Not exactly. Gaia said we need Cronus’s scythe. With his power, Demeter’s mood swings wouldn’t matter.”

“Still working for Gaia, huh?” Thanatos asked. He leaned away from his untouched pizza too. “Nice to know there are some relationships you can stand to keep forever.”

Lach flinched. Frankly, maintaining a relationship with Gaia was easy; she didn’t care about him. She’d speak to him, sometimes every few months, sometimes with decades between meetings, and request something. After that, it was a simple exchange. She’d give him riches, and Lach would run her errands. It was always weird to have a goddess suddenly speaking into his head, but he’d adapted. There was something freeing about it, like she wasn’treallythere so he couldn’treallylet her down. Not once in three thousand years had she asked him how his day was going.

“Well, yeah. There’s the one,” Lach said, forcing a grin like it was a joke. Thanatos didn’t smile.

“I still don’t see what this has to do with me. Why didn’t you ask Hermes?”

“He’s on the lam.”

Thanatos cocked his brow. “Didn’t stop you from sending him to me.”

“And he doesn’t know the underworld as well as you. Trust me”—fat chance—“I asked. He said he didn’t know where Hades kept Cronus. You weren’t my first choice.”

Well, Lach had always been a liar; why stop now? When Gaia had tapped him for this, his first thought was that he could twist it into an excuse to see Thanatos. It was an absurd notion, sure to end in nothing but heartache, but it was the first time in millennia that Lach had a reason to reach out to the underworld.

Thanatos scoffed. “You always were a flatterer.”

“You wanted me to call you first?” Lach asked. The hardness in Thanatos’s gaze made him straighten in his seat.

“No.”

Lach smirked. “Didn’t think so.”

In centuries past, he’d stood in the middle of graveyards when he docked in port towns. As the years ticked by, the gods’ powers lessened. Once, they could travel anywhere with a thought. In time, they were relegated to their own domains. But Lach had called to Thanatos in a graveyard before, and he’d come at once. Every time Lach had lingered in one since, he’d thought about uttering his name, wondering if he would come or not—if he already knew Lach was there, thinking about him. But he’d never summoned the courage to call. Now, he had an excuse. He doubted Thanatos would come for him, but for the good of humanity, Lach had hoped he would show up.

Hell, even that day, even with a ready excuse, he’d thought Thanatos might not come. Lach had sat at the counter in Hysteria for hours, until he was drunk. Cleo brought him water and enough time passed that, by the time that he left, dejected, he was sober again.

The thrill he’d felt when he’d stepped outside and seen Thanatos had gotten the better of him. Sitting in that pizza booth, it was clear he’d messed this up from the start.

“So, will you help me get to Cronus and back out again?” Lach asked.

At that, Thanatos laughed out loud. It was booming, filling the small parlor until most eyes turned toward them. “Not a chance.”

Lach blinked. “Sorry?”

“Demeter’s throwing a shit fit, and your first option is to go see a murderous titan who ate his own kids? No. That’s crazy. He’d kill you sooner than help you. Gaia’s out of touch.”

Thanatos slid out of his seat. Self-composed, he straightened his jacket and buttoned the front. The suit he wore looked like it cost more than Lach’s whole wardrobe; grunge chic wasn’t a thing. The last time Lach had seen him, his clothes had hung in loose folds. They’d always been nicer than Lach’s, but now, they were staunch and fashionable. Lach missed the tunics he could slip his hands inside and that easy smile Thanatos had saved just for him.

Flustered, it took Lach a moment to realize Thanatos was leaving.

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