She was being carried. The movement was jarring as they shifted her in their arms. She wanted to protest but couldn’t find the strength to open her mouth.

Voices whispered vehement words, and Hope caught bits and pieces of the conversation.

“Not what we’d agreed . . . actually hurt her . . .” The voice was familiar and had the inflection of the divine. But he was angry.

“. . . would’ve healed . . . or are you pretending?”

The man carrying her sucked in a breath and swore.

Hope wanted to tell the other person that the pain wasn’t pretend. There was no way to pretend this much. But she decided she didn’t care enough to expend the effort.

When she opened her eyes, the first thing Hope saw was the god of death sitting at her bedside. His gray T-shirt was rumpled, and his angular features were distorted in a grimace. As soon as their eyes met, the frown disappeared.

“Did you rescue me?” She cleared her throat and accepted the bottle of water.

Thanatos waited until she’d finished all of it and then threw the empty bottle into a waste bin in the corner. He ran his hand through his hair in a very human gesture of frustration. “What were you thinking?”

Hope pulled herself up, groaning as every muscle in her body protested the activity. As soon as she was upright, Hope leaned back against the upholstered headboard, exhausted by her puny effort.

“This world . . . It doesn’t run the way the mortal realm does. You are not invincible here.” He dropped his head to the edge of the bed. He took a deep breath and then looked up and met her gaze. “I don’t know the limits of your curse.”

“Could he kill me?”

Thanatos shook his head. “I don’t know.” He clasped his hands together. “Please don’t wander around unprotected.”

She nodded. “But I need to find my mother.”

He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.

She hated that it felt like she was trying his patience. He’d been so kind, and she hated that she was such an inconvenience. “Would you rather I just go?”

He opened his eyes and frowned. “That’s not the problem, Hope.” He stood and crossed the room. “Try to get some sleep. I’ll be back tomorrow.”

She turned over her relationship with Thanatos as she waited for sleep to claim her. His interest in her was obvious. He wasn’t as forward as Xan in his declaration, but it felt like he was trying to, what was the word her mother used . . . court her? As sleep crept over her, she wondered if the god’s interest was driven from loneliness. Was it her, or would anyone do? Could she be reading him wrong and all he wanted was friendship? Was he driving for something more?

It didn’t matter. She could only offer him friendship.

Thanatos hadn’t returned when Hope awoke the next day. She mulled over her options only for a moment before deciding. She wasn’t reliant on him, and as much as she appreciated his concern and all he’d done for her, she wanted to get out of the Underworld. Which meant she needed to get information about her curse.

As she descended the stairs, Hope passed several more Skia and wondered at the vast number of them. There had to be several dozen here in Thanatos’s home. Like servants or bodyguards. Why would the god of death need so many bodyguards?

Hope dismissed the thoughts as she raced outside to find Asbolus.

The dark rock extended as far as she could see. Behind the mansion-like home of Thanatos stood an outbuilding of the same black stone. The structure had bright white Xs over the doors and in panels below the windows, a pattern very reminiscent of a barn.

“I need you to take me to the Fields; that’s it.” Her last visit flashed through her mind. “And some immortal blades, just in case. Do you have access to blades?”

Asbolus stood at the front door, his arms crossed over his bare chest, his hooves clicking on the stone as he shifted uneasily. “What you’re proposing is madness.”

“Me being here is madness, but I’m here nonetheless.” She narrowed her gaze and offered a patronizing smile. “Didn’t Thanatos say you were an auger?”

He stepped out of the door. “He did.”

She threw her hands up. “Then you know if anything is going to go wrong.”

Why couldn’t she catch a break? Why couldn’t one single thing go her way? Was it really too much to ask?

“Fine.” Asbolus leaned over her. “But you won’t need blades.”

She stared up past his chiseled torso to his clenched square jaw. She felt a little bad about how hard she was pushing. It was probably rude, but being nice sure wasn’t getting her anything. “Good. Let’s go.”

As if reading her mind, he stepped back into his home. “I’ll be out shortly.”

He closed the door in her face. A few minutes later, Asbolus came around from the back of the house carrying a saddle.

“We’re not taking the cart?”

He chuckled, a deep throaty sound that was more human than horse. “For just you? No.”

Was it weird that she was having a bit of a panic attack? “I’ve never ridden a horse before.”

Asbolus stopped walking toward her and raised his brows. “Then it’s a good thing I’m not a horse.” He told her how to fasten the saddle. “Then you just have to hold on.”

Was he kidding?

Again, as if he could read her thoughts, he responded, “It’s like embracing someone while riding a motorcycle.”

“Yeah,” she muttered, “if the guy is naked.”

His laughter was rich and deep, and his abdominal muscles tightened with the force of it. He finally reined in his mirth and, with a twinkle of mischief and a wink, said, “Go ahead and mount up.”

Hope’s face flamed with embarrassment, but she said nothing as she pulled herself into the saddle.

“You are going to have to hold on,” he chided. As if to demonstrate the necessity, Asbolus trotted a few steps and then cantered a few more.

Hope hung on to the saddle and gritted her teeth. Then, with a lurch, she flung her arms around Asbolus’s waist as he broke into a run. It was almost as good as flying. The air tickled and teased at her hair, pulling the golden strands back away from her face.

The second Hope and Asbolus were off Thanatos’s grounds, the air became dank and heavy with a biting chill. The wind buffeted them, screaming a song of pain and the anger of betrayal. Despair crept into her heart, and Hope wanted to weep with the futility of her purpose. There was no way she would succeed, and worse than that, she would be a disappointment to everyone who had ever known her. A wave of hot betrayal hit her, and she wanted to lash out. She should make Sarra, Krista, and Obelia pay. In fact, now that she was in the Underworld, she should track down Apollo’s sons and make sure they were receiving ample punishment. Perhaps there was a way for her to seek revenge, even here . . .

Asbolus lurched, and the bitterness was gone. The dank air, while still heavy, was filled with a sense of acceptance. It was blessedly silent.

“What was that?” she yelled to him. It couldn’t have been natural.

“Tartarus,” he hollered back at her. “I’m sorry. I should’ve warned you.” He slowed to a brisk trot and looked over his shoulder, his gaze appraising her. Whatever he saw must’ve been reassuring, and with a nod he faced forward and resumed his gallop.

With another lurch, they were inside the realm of the Fields of Asphodel. Hope recognized the smell before she even saw the buildings. But Asbolus didn’t stop. He continued his run through the vast fields, and they lurched into another in-between.

“Why the space in-between? And why didn’t I see that before?” First the awfulness of Tartarus and now the in-betweens? “Why is it different?”

“I’m no god. I can’t shelter you from the realities here.”

“Thanatos changed what I saw?” The sense of betrayal spiked, and this time it was all her own. “How dare he!”

They lurched again, and the air was sweeter. Asbolus slowed his pace as they came into the beauty of Elysium. The polished stone houses were spaced farther apart, and the yards had various adornments of colored crystal.

He pointed to a large black tree, the green crystals cut as leaves. Red globes the size of cherries hung from the limbs, and the phosphorus light glinted and fractured off the faux fruit. “It’s very beautiful, is it not?”

“Yes. Where do they get the crystals?”

Asbolus chuckled. “Crystals? No. They are gems, mined from here in the Underworld. Or did you forget Hades is the god of the riches of the ground?”

Hope turned to look back at the cherry tree. “For real?”

He laughed again and tapped her hands after coming to a stop by a garden of sculptures. “Yes. One of the rewards of Elysium. Now here you go.”

Trees and bushes of jewels extended as far as she could see. A low wall separated the road from the pathways of the park.

“Where am I going?”

“They will meet you in there.”

Hope slid from the saddle, surprised at how wobbly her legs were. She held on to the horn of the saddle, and the ground seemed to solidify as her legs adjusted to standing. “Who will meet me? My mom? Priska?”

Asbolus stared across the vast park. He turned, his hooves clopping against the stone. After a deep breath, he met her gaze. “The Fates.”

He nodded once and left.

Hope stood rooted to the ground. She heard Asbolus’s retreat and had a fleeting thought of running after him. She let out a slow breath and then another. Straightening, she squared her shoulders and went to meet the Fates.