As if answering his question, Hecate turned to him. “You drank from the Acheron. Both you and the girl. You now belong to the Underworld. And I have claimed you.”

“Ridiculous,” Hermes said with a wave of his hand. “Athan—”

“I threw it all up!” He couldn’t contain himself. “Every last drop, every piece of rotten flesh.” He spit on the dark stone floor. “None of it stayed in my body.”

She would not get him. She would not stop him!

Xan’s face was frozen in horror. He shifted as if to step forward, and the guards halted him. “Dahlia,” he breathed.

“I will bargain with you, god of travelers, and messenger to the gods. I will make you a deal.” The goddess of witchcraft smirked at the other god.

“No—”

“I will speak with my son,” Hermes said as he walked from the room.

Athan glared at the goddess and followed his father. As he passed Xan, Athan whispered, “It will be okay.”

But Xan’s expression made it clear he didn’t believe the same.

As soon as Athan was out of the room, Hermes dragged him into the small changing room. In a voice seething with frustration, Hermes asked, “What in the name of Olympus are you doing here?”

Athan opened his mouth to respond, but Hermes didn’t give him the chance. “I can’t believe the insanity that must be running through your head. Do you owe that son of Ares? Is this a dare? Cronus and Rhea, if you are trying to prove—”

“It’s about Hope, Dad.” Athan willed his father to understand.

Hermes’s furrowed brow relaxed, and then his eyes widened. “The Sphinx?”

Athan hated that his father still refused to acknowledge her as a person. Clenching his teeth, Athan reminded his father, “Her name is Hope.”

Hermes broke eye contact. He adjusted his shirt, tugging the fabric away from his skin, and then leaned against the dark rock wall. “What is she doing in the Underworld?”

“I don’t know.” Athan let out a sigh of frustration. That wasn’t completely true. “She wants to break the curse. For some reason, she came here. Myrine told me.”

Athan filled his father in on what happened since they’d last spoken. How Athan had searched for Hope, only to find her in the conservatory. He told his father about the Skia attack that had put him in a coma, and how Hope had disappeared by the time he woke up. He told all about the tentative truce with Xan and the difficulty they’d had in navigating the Underworld.

As Athan spoke, Hermes’s face hardened into stone. His nostrils flared, and the skin around his eyes tightened. He crossed his arms over his chest and snapped, “You are not meant to be here, son.”

“But I must find her.” It didn’t matter if his father didn’t approve. Athan felt the need to help her, an ache deep in his chest, and he wasn’t going to give up on her. “She saved my life, and I . . . I love her.”

Hermes grunted. “It is not love of which you speak. This infatuation—”

He was done having his father brushing off his feelings. Athan stepped into Hermes’s personal space and with a low growl asked, “Have you not been listening to me? How can you even say that?”

“How long have you known her? A month, maybe two?” Hermes waved his arms dismissively.

Athan ground his teeth. His father was such a hypocrite. “How long did you know Mom?”

Hermes straightened, and his eyes hardened. “That was different.”

“Mom was only nineteen,” Athan whispered. “She said she knew the moment she saw you cross the room.”

Pain crossed over the god’s features and aged his otherwise youthful appearance. The anger washed away, and his shoulders dropped. “What if it isn’t love?”

“A life without risk isn’t worth living, right?” But as Athan said the words, something in his soul resonated with them, and he stood tall, accepting the challenge and all that would come with it. “I have to try.”

The god acknowledged his words with a small nod. “I can see that you must.”

“I didn’t drink from the river—”

Hermes waved away the words. “I can see that. So can Hecate. She’s trying to get something from me. What about your other companions? Are you here with more than the son of Ares?”

“There is a daughter of Eris, too. She fell in the river.” Athan’s stomach turned with the memories. “She consumed a lot.”

Hermes frowned. “I will not be able to save her.”

“But—”

“There are laws, Athan. Hades rules the Underworld in a very organized fashion. I cannot break the law without making recompense.” The god of thieves, languages, commerce, and boundaries sat down on the bench, as if the weight of his words pressed him down. “Ares’s son is a better fighter, so I would encourage you to take him with you. She drank from the river, so one of you will be bound here. I doubt you will want to trade places with her.”

Xan will never forgive me . Nor would Hope. Athan shoved the feeling of betrayal away. In truth, he would likely never forgive himself, but he would save Hope, no matter what the cost.

“Fine,” he choked out, but he couldn’t bring his eyes to meet his father’s.

Hermes put his hand on Athan’s shoulder. “It is not selfish to act so. Even if you’d protested, I cannot save Eris’s daughter from the Underworld.”

Even with his father’s statement, guilt pressed on Athan’s heart. “Can you do nothing for her?”

“Is she skilled? She is certainly beautiful, but that will not serve her well with Hecate.”

His words sounded like a warning.

“Aren’t all demigods attractive?” He couldn’t help the defensiveness. No one wanted to be judged solely on their appearance. “She’s an excellent fighter. Second only to her cousin.”

Hermes grimaced. “Is she smart?”

They hadn’t taken any classes together, but Xan wouldn’t put up with her if she was an idiot. Even if she was family. “She’s not dumb.”

“Sometimes that’s worse.” Hermes sighed, and his shoulders sagged with acceptance. “I will do what I can, but she may not thank me for it.”

Athan had to believe it would make it better. Better than her just dying.

“No matter what I say, don’t protest.” Hermes met Athan’s eyes with no spark of fun or teasing. “No matter what, okay?”

Athan nodded. He understood what his father wasn’t saying. He wasn’t going to like the way this went down. Which meant there was a good possibility Xan wouldn’t like it either.

Xan stood inside the doorway, still flanked by the two female guards. Hecate rose from her throne as soon as they entered and gracefully glided toward them.

As soon as they crossed into the large cavern, Hermes pushed Athan away from him and toward the goddess. “I can’t believe your stupidity. You have not acted in a way befitting your station.” The god turned to Hecate. “You may have him.”

Athan’s stomach hit his toes. His father couldn’t be serious. Not after what he’d just said in the hall. This must be part of his plan, but anxiety crawled over Athan nonetheless.

Hermes stepped closer and shoved his son again. “He is remarkably dense for being my son. Probably only good to be one of those .” He waved at the men standing beside her chaise. “You may as well take both of them. They’re nothing more than pretty faces.”

Both of them? Hermes words didn’t make sense, but Athan pushed away at the doubt crashing into him.

“What?” Xan yelled, stepping forward.

The two priestesses stepped with him, grabbed his arms, and pulled him back to where he’d been standing.

Hecate’s face clouded with confusion. “The son of Ares hasn’t consumed anything here. He is not bound.”

“No?” Hermes pinched his lips. “No matter. I will trade them both for the girl.”

Hecate chuckled, but her smirk appeared to pain her. “You favor the daughter of Eris?”

Hermes withdrew a pace as if the words were a physical shock. “Favor her? Absolutely not.”

More confusion clouded the goddess’s fair face. “But she is quite beautiful.”

Xan muttered obscenities under his breath.

“I do not want her for her looks.” He indicated behind him where Xan and Athan now stood. “Dip them in the Lethe. They are handsome enough for you, right?” Hermes continued as he stepped up to Hecate. “But I would like the daughter of Eris.”

Hecate said nothing as she worried her lip with her teeth.

Athan could almost hear the wheels of her mind clicking through the information. “Is she intelligent? A strong fighter?”

Hermes broke their gaze and stared up at the dark rock. “No, not at all.”

The air hung heavy with the lie, and they all knew it.

Hecate narrowed her gaze. “I would look upon the daughter of Eris again.” The goddess stepped from the dais. “Come with me.”

The guards grabbed Xan and pulled him through the doorway. Athan waited by his father until Hecate swept past.

“What are you doing?” he whispered once the goddess had exited the room.

The resounding crack of Hermes’s strike brought tears to Athan’s eyes. The initial sting blossomed into an ache that made his head throb.

“Don’t speak to me. No son of mine would be so foolish.”

For the first time, Athan wondered if his father was really acting. He closed his eyes, willing the tears not to fall. Worse than the physical pain was the doubt. He’d never seen his father so cruel, and there was no reason for it. No explanation. Athan’s hesitation cost him any chance of looking into his father’s eyes. By the time Athan raised his head, Hermes was gone, and Athan was left to catch up.

There was plenty of noise to direct him down the hall, and as he followed it, he mused that this was close to where he’d woken up. Approaching the door, he realized it was right next door to where he’d been, in fact. He shook his head and entered.

His face still throbbed, but the pain was nothing next to the sight in front of him.

Blood ran down the side of Xan’s face, but he knelt, oblivious to the open wound, holding his cousin’s hand.

The sheets were twisted around Dahlia’s body, and as she thrashed, Athan could see why. Her once vibrant skin was gray and ashen, her lips pale and cracked. Dark bags aged her appearance, and her eyes were sunken deep into her skull. She looked like death.

Athan let his eyes flit over the rest of the room.

The two guards were crumpled in a heap inside the doorway, and it didn’t take a genius to see what had happened.

Hermes’s face was filled with sorrow, and Athan knew his father was lost in memories of his own loss.

Only Hecate seemed unconcerned with the state of her guests. The Underworld goddess leaned against the black rock, her pale skin and green chiton a striking contrast. Her eyes bore into the demigod daughter of contention and strife.

“You will have to burn through the desperation that has filled her.”

Hermes snorted. “It will not be just desperation. Her soul will be filled with anguish and loss.” He stared at the goddess until she looked away. “As you well know.” He sighed as if put out. “Nevertheless, I’ll take her with me.”

He approached the bed and nudged Xan.

Xan’s head snapped up, and his eyes glinted with fire. He stood; his clenched hands hung by his sides. “What do you want of her, Lord Hermes?”

Hermes stared at Xan. “You have two minutes to say goodbye to her, son. And that’s a mercy you don’t deserve.”

This man was nothing like the father Athan knew. This god was used to getting his way, and humans and demigods were subjects to do his will, nothing more.

Hermes leaned over and picked up a lock of Dahlia’s dark hair. He let it drop through his fingers. Athan watched while a mixture of awe and disgust churned through him. Had he not been so focused, he would’ve missed the pain that skirted through his father’s eyes. What was he doing?

Hecate stepped closer, brushing past Athan and coming to a stop in front of Dahlia. The goddess of witchcraft placed her hands hovering just over the demigod’s head, then her chest, and finally rested them on Dahlia’s navel. With a gleam in her eyes she said, “On second thought, keep your son. Take him and his friend. The girl is mine.”

“But we agreed—”

Hecate glared up at Hermes and held up her hand. “There was no agreement.”

She turned back to Dahlia and felt her pulse, lifted her eyelids, and then put her hands back on her abdomen. “She will be fine.” Violet light pulsed from beneath her palms once, twice, three times into Dahlia’s belly.

Dahlia screamed, then rolled to her side to retch over the edge of the bed. Tarry sludge spewed onto Hecate’s feet, splattering on the edges of her flowy chiton.

Hecate placed the palm of her hand to Dahlia’s forehead and pushed the demigod back to the bed. She then turned to the other occupants. “Get out.” Her eyes glowed the same pale purple that had glowed from her palms only moments before. “Right now.”

Hermes grabbed Athan and Xan and pulled them from the room.

The door closed as soon as they’d passed the threshold.

Hermes embraced his son but said nothing.

What was going on? “Dad?”

Hermes shook his head.

“When will she be better?” Xan asked.

“Not before you’re dead, and maybe not even then.”

Xan moved to push past the god, but Hermes blocked him and pushed him back. “The worst thing you could do right now is go back in there. You’d be damning you both to Tartarus, or worse.” He shoved him down the corridor and indicated that Athan follow. “Move.”

Hermes ducked into the changing room a second time, pulling both the demigods with him.

“Mother Gaia.” Hermes released a long breath.

Xan’s features were stony, and he glared at Hermes. “Bloody hell.”

Athan didn’t know what to say. Had his father saved Dahlia or damned her? Athan was afraid to ask, afraid to find out the answer. Something deep within told him he didn’t really want to know.

Xan’s eyes glistened with unshed tears. He turned toward the door and whispered a farewell to Dahlia. “May you find peace in this realm.”

“Why didn’t you fight harder for her?” Athan asked.

Xan turned to Hermes. “Would it have done any good? Could I have saved her?”

Hermes glanced down before meeting Xan’s eyes. “No.”

Xan swallowed hard and glared at Athan. “Don’t mistake acceptance for cowardice. She would’ve never been happy in the mortal realm. Maybe she’ll even be able to find Roan.”

“Roan is here? In the Underworld?”

Xan flinched. “You aren’t the only one who’s lost someone because I failed.”

Athan knew immediately what Xan was referring to. Xan had spent more than one night, legless , as he called it, or rather drowning his sorrows in liquor. He’d been drunk the night he’d taken Isa out. Obviously, he’d made the same mistake years before with Roan. “Did she know?”

Xan shook his head. “I could never find the words.”

Gods. He’d never even told his cousin? “Skata .”

“Where are you going?” Hermes asked, his body sagging against the wall. Whatever game he’d been playing had made him nervous, too. “Wherever it is, we need to get you out of here before she finds a reason to keep you here. Trust me . . .”

And even though he didn’t finish the sentence, the weight of the words was enough to convey the message. They did not want to serve Hecate.

Their best chance at finding Hope was to get the ruler of the Underworld to agree to help them. “We need to get to the palace of Hades.”

Hermes ran his hand through his hair again before squaring his shoulders. “I won’t be able to help you after this.”

Athan nodded.

Hermes placed both hands on Athan’s shoulders. “Think before you speak. Don’t eat or drink anything. And be very careful what you commit to.”

Blinding light exploded, forcing Athan to close his eyes. A deafening boom resonated through his entire body, and his ears began to ring.