“YOU ARE MEDDLING!” raged Hades. “He was almost in my grasp and you let him go—again!”

“I did nothing but send him to the Underworld,” Zeus said, frowning. Was someone meddling? Athena? She knew better than to go against his wishes, though where Kratos was concerned, he felt a growing knot of skepticism.

Zeus looked up when Hades growled deep in his throat, more animal than god. He found his brother’s ire increasingly difficult to tolerate. He fingered the Blade of Olympus resting against his throne and considered how quickly this problem might be removed. A quick slash and Hades would follow Ares into the sky, dissipated and no longer annoying.

But he had decreed that one god could not slay another, so that he had to turn Kratos mortal again before running him through with the Blade of Olympus. Thus far, Zeus had enforced this edict and had agreed with Athena that it applied to all gods, the Lord of Olympus included. Still, Hades was unbearable.

“You rescued him. How else could he avoid the fall to the banks of the River Styx? I vow that he never arrived.”

“He does not lack for work,” Zeus said, his hand resting on the Blade of Olympus again. The power within it thrilled him and reminded him of the final battle against the Titans. With that memory came an anger that knew no bounds. Cronos had not suffered enough. Zeus had chained Pandora’s Temple to his father’s back and forced him to crawl endlessly through the Desert of Lost Souls. After Kratos had killed Ares, it had been such a pleasure to banish Cronos to Tartarus for still more torture. He could revisit that decision, perhaps dangle a bit of hope out to Cronos that he would no longer suffer, then find a punishment even worse than Tartarus. To give hope and then snatch it away was the worst—the best!—of all tortures.

“You mean all the Spartans you sent to my realm?” Hades stroked his long, sooty beard.

“Many will be crossing the River Styx,” Zeus said. He wished Hades would leave so he could ponder the matter of Cronos. The renewed energy in the Blade of Olympus reminded him of the Titanomachy and the greatest day for the Olympian gods. His greatest day of victory.

Since then, there had been nothing but petty squabbles among the gods to mediate, and the more serious matter of Ares wanting to kill his father to sit on this very throne had occupied too much of his time. Zeus had thought manipulating Athena to offer Kratos the God of War’s throne would have returned peace to Olympus. If anything, it had made discourse impossible and battle inevitable.

“You can send all the armies in all the cities to me and it won’t be enough, brother,” Hades said. “Twice! Twice Kratos has cheated his fate.”

“Cheated his fate,” Zeus murmured. “That is impossible. The Sisters of Fate do not make mistakes.”

“They favored us against the Titans. How can they favor Kratos, a mortal upstart, against us? They can’t! It is your intervention that has rescued him. I know it.”

“You know nothing,” Zeus said coldly.

“I am sovereign in my realm yet you meddle in my affairs. Kratos is mine, and you stole him away. Twice!” Hades puffed out his chest and allowed fires to glow in his coal-like eyes. Smoke curled away from his body to the point that Zeus almost sent a lightning bolt to give reason for such behavior.

“Return to your domain, and let me deal with Kratos and matters of greater import in Olympus.”

“You order me away like some scullery maid? I am your brother, Zeus. You cannot—” Hades stepped back and glared as the Sky Father stood and grew until his head brushed the dome of his throne room. His eyes flashed like deadly beacons, and he fought to keep from violating his own decree against one god killing another. Hades read the message in his brother’s eyes. Zeus almost laughed when the Lord of the Underworld backed away, then bowed deeply.

“You have your own concerns,” Hades said. He looked up, and his submissive attitude evaporated like fog in the morning sun. “Don’t meddle with mine!” Hades stormed away.

Zeus took a step forward, arm cocked back to unleash a lightning bolt, but stayed his hand when he saw Hermes at the doorway, watching intently. The Messenger of the Gods retreated, then let his winged sandals lift him away.

Zeus started to order Hermes to return, then sat heavily on his throne.

“Kratos,” he said, his fury growing. “This is your doing. You will never return to Olympus to sit on this throne. On my throne!” Zeus then released his lightning bolt and blew a huge hole in the wall. Shards of stone and precious gems cascaded down, leaving behind a dusty cloud. With a huge intake of air, Zeus exhaled and blew it away in a furious windstorm, then sank back on his throne in a dark choler.