Hope held up a hand. “I still have my Book of the Fates . Remember how I recognized that handwriting? That’s why. And that’s why you can’t find it here. It’s in a hotel room in the mortal realm, where I left it.”

She couldn’t believe she had left it, the statue of Hecate, and all of her possessions in the dingy hotel room. How long had Priska paid the bill for? Gods, what if it was stolen?

“You have your Book of the Fates ?” He nodded as if accepting what she’d told him. “And you are of the lineage of Hera?”

Hope nodded in confirmation. “Phoibe refused Apollo’s advances, and on the night she gave birth, he showed up and cursed her offspring, then killed her and her husband. Phaidra was her daughter. She was the Sphinx in Egypt, Thebes, and everywhere else that had Sphinxes. She made a bargain with the Graeae, which is how we have our human form, except on the new moon, when Apollo placed the curse, or if we are on the land where he placed it. But I don’t know if that is all of Europe or just ancient Greece. I’ve only ever been in North America.”

Thanatos leaned toward her. “And what fulfills the curse? Why does Apollo have the Sphinx killed?”

“It has to do with what constitutes a family. Way back when Apollo killed Phoibe, a family was a husband, wife, and their children. If we refuse Apollo and marry someone else then have children, making a complete family, it fulfills the curse. I want to find a way to break it. I don’t want to have my choices limited just because some god got thwarted. It’s ridiculous.”

“Yes. I could see why you would feel that way.”

Disbelief made her frown. “You understand?”

The god of death stood, towering over her. Anger flashed in his eyes. “Do you think you are the only one affected by curses? Even gods can be bound if enough power is exercised. Think of Cronus in Tartarus. Do you think he voluntarily went there? He would love to escape, but he is bound by the power of the gods. Do you think I enjoyed killing your mother? I. Had. No. Choice.”

Her mind raced as she put it together. “You are bound?”

“I serve Hades.” He sat back down, almost collapsing in on himself. “And yes, I am bound.”

Sympathy pulsed through her chest. She’d never even considered that the gods could be bound. Or that they wouldn’t like it. Of course they wouldn’t like it. Who would? “Are you trying to break your curse?”

He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. “One day, my dear, I shall. And it will be glorious.”

That was exactly how she felt.

“So how are you to break your binding to Apollo?” Thanatos relaxed back into his seat. He rubbed his hands together as he studied her.

“I don’t know.” Hope explained how she’d gone to the temple of Artemis, the conservatory, read a few Books of the Fates , and then had put together that she needed to come here. “None of my mother’s history is recorded, and you said yourself that the dead can’t lie. I need to know what I can do to break the curse, and everything has pointed to coming here.”

A dark curl fell across the god’s forehead, and he brushed the ebony lock back from his face. “I will help you. Together, I’m confident, we can see an end to this.”

She should have been ecstatic with his declaration, but a foreboding sense of unease unfurled in her belly. Hope pushed the worry away. It was only because of what he’d done to her mother. Of course distrust lingered.

Over the next two days—that was how Hope preferred to think of the time she was awake, although she had no way to measure time—she and Thanatos discussed every detail of her understanding of the curse. Not being able to reference her Book of the Fates was incredibly frustrating, and there were a few times she had to admit a dead end. When she wasn’t with the god, she would sneak into the library and read the Books of the Fates from others who’d been cursed. But no matter how many she read, she still hadn’t found a way around a god’s binding.

She ate prepackaged food until she couldn’t stand to look at a granola bar or fruit cup, and even beef jerky and canned chicken held no appeal. But the food and fluid had done their trick, and she felt strong and energized once again.

Hope sat in bed, counting the days on her fingers again and again. Even if time moved slower in the Underworld, she should’ve changed by now.

When she brought it up to Thanatos, he looked like he’d won the lottery. “I was wondering about that, too. I had my suspicions, but I didn’t want to give you false hope.”

She tried to connect the dots, but then that meant . . . “It doesn’t work here?”

“Curses from one realm don’t usually carry into the next, unless the god has powers in both realms. Apparently, Apollo’s power has no effect here.”

“You mean I’m human?”

Thanatos shrugged. “You are whatever you would be without the curse. You still have blood from Hera, so not quite human, I would say.”

Which would explain why she’d been able to go as long as she had without water. Several days, according to Thanatos, who had informed her that time did not work the same in the Underworld.

“Let’s go find your mother today, shall we?”

She’d been about to ask, and something about the fact that he had extended the invitation made her happy. The longer she was with Thanatos, the better she thought of him. He wasn’t traditionally attractive like Athan or Xan; the god of death was too thin, too pale, and too angular to be considered handsome. He didn’t have the same terrifying beauty of Apollo, either. But Thanatos was kind, which softened his sharp features. He was a god and still had that striking quality, but over the course of the time Hope had been in the Underworld, she’d come to consider him a friend. A tentative friend.

“Yes. That sounds fabulous.” She stood and accepted his arm as they made their way out to Asbolus.

The centaur stood hitched to the carriage, a scowl on his face.

“Hi, Asbolus.” Hope practically sang the greeting. “How are you today?”

The creature turned and glared at Thanatos, making Hope falter in her steps. “This is wrong, Thanatos.”

Thanatos held up his hand. “What you see is not set in stone, Asbolus, and we both know it. I will do this . . . for Hope.”

Asbolus snorted then turned to her. “Be on your guard, little one. Truth can be a painful lesson.”

“Enough,” Thanatos said. He helped Hope into the carriage and then stepped up to Asbolus. “You would do well to remember I choose where my kindness falls. I will not bow to Hades forever.”

Asbolus inclined his head to the god but said nothing.

They lurched through the first rings of the Underworld, the barren waste passing by in a blur of grays. Asbolus slowed to a trot as soon as they crossed into the Fields of Asphodel.

Hope looked around as if her mother would appear, but when Leto didn’t appear, Hope turned to Thanatos while asking, “How do we find . . . ?”

The words died on her lips.

Thanatos grimaced as if in physical pain. The muscles of his neck bulged under whatever strain he was going through. His eyes were closed, his jaw rigid, and he shuddered and trembled from the invisible force.

Hope reached out to the god but hesitated to touch him.

Just before contact, he opened his eyes. With a hiss, he withdrew from her. “Don’t,” he said. His eyes bore into her, and his intense gaze held her captive. Through clench teeth he said, “I must go. I will return as soon as I can. Asbolus, take her home.”

And he disappeared.

Fear simmered and boiled, making her skin crawl. “What just happened?”

Asbolus trotted around the fountain in the square. “He has been summoned, and he cannot refuse.”

“Who would do that?” But there was only one lord of the Underworld, so only one logical choice. “Why?”

Asbolus’s muscular shoulders rose and fell. “It is not Thanatos’s place to ask why.” The centaur glanced away. “I’ll take you back.”

“No.” She wasn’t going back. Now that they were in the Fields of Asphodel and she could actually start looking, she was determined to make use of it. “We can still look, right?”

But Asbolus continued to make his way through the crowds of people.

All thoughts of Thanatos fled, and her goal of finding her mom suddenly seemed to be slipping through her fingers. “Stop!”

But the centaur didn’t even glance back at her.

She reminded herself that she was not going to be a victim. She stepped to the edge of the buggy, and with a deep breath, she jumped. As soon as she hit the dark rock, she rolled. Pain exploded on her left side, but she stood and ran back toward the square. There had to be someone who could help.

“Hope!” Asbolus yelled after her, but with the cart hitched to his back, he would have to find a space to turn around.

She knew searching for her mom would be like the needle in a haystack analogy, but at some point, she had to start looking.