Page 80 of Crown of Olympus
“I hope you haven’t drunk all the wine; otherwise, you’ll be sent on a mission to retrieve more. We’re sorely in need of a drink after that one,” I said to my best friend. His humour drained instantly, replaced by something akin to pity.
“I got your message,” he replied solemnly.
“And you personally saw them to the gates?”
He nodded.
“Who was on sentencing duty?”
“Thanatos. And yes, I made sure that the mortal soldiers were sent to the Elysian Fields, where they belong.”
“Thank you, Char.”
He nodded, extending the bottle of wine.
“Aye, that part was fucking awful,” Aros said, intercepting the bottle and taking a huge swig. “But this is actually really good,” he murmured, passing it to Caelus, who followed suit.
“Agreed,” he said, passing it to Aphrodite.
“Mmm, agreed,” she hummed, finally passing it to me.
I raised it to my lips, but by then only a single drop graced my tongue. I huffed a laugh.
“I’ll get some more wine; you deal the cards, Char.”
A few hoursand more than a few bottles of wine later, Aros had reached an understanding of ‘Pay the Ferryman’ that none of us could surpass, not even Charon. He was unbeatable. And overwhelmingly obnoxious about that fact.
“That’s some beginner’s luck,” Charon grumbled.
“God of war,” Aros winked. “Strategy falls under that umbrella of abilities. Speaking of, why don’t we raise the stakes a little? Have a friendly wager on the next round?”
A collective groan sounded from the group, all of us wondering where this was headed but knowing it was nowhere good.
“Alright, losers have to give something to the winner.”
“That’s it?” Charon asked, eyes narrowed suspiciously.
“That’s it.” Aros grinned like he’d already won.
That is, until I laid down the winning hand precisely six minutes later.
“Pay the Ferryman!” I bellowed. “Bow before me, for I am the mighty Nyssa, goddess of the Underworld!” I yelled, climbing atop the table and knocking more cards to the floor.
My friends — for that was what they had become — howled with laughter. Aros clutched his belly, Aph wiped a tear from her eye, and Charon and Caelus shared a grin — joyous and bright, a mirror image of each other’s glee.
“Alright, my fair queen, come down from your pedestalso that we can shower you with gifts!” Aros joked, offering his hand to help me down.
It was absolute freedom, being able to touch a bare hand without fear of murdering a person. That thought, and the memory attached to it, sobered me up quickly. Nevertheless, I stood before them, waiting.
Charon spoke first. “I offer you a memory. One you’ve probably forgotten.” He glanced around, grinning mischievously at the Olympians, and I inherently knew this would be more of a gift to them than to me.
“You see, when Nyss was a little girl, no older than six, she went through a bit of a rebellious streak,” Charon began.
“Rebellious? Oh, this I have to hear,” Aros teased.
Charon nodded. “Oh yes. Hades was away, attending to the gates and sentencing souls and all that, when Nyssa decided she’d had just about enough of her lessons. She snuck away from the drawling history professor-turned-shade, who tended to drone on so much he frequently put himself to sleep.”
We all chuckled.
