While Hip managed the dreams of the mortals and followed Selene around the dark side of the earth, bringing slumber to those who needed it, he also hovered with Aether above the Canadian Rockies, waiting for the Giant to eat the herb that would make him cough up Ares’s leg.
The Giant was still blind from having his eyes gouged out. Hip had no idea if the blindness was permanent; nevertheless, the beast’s acute sense of hearing and of smell more than made up for it. The Giant knew he wasn’t alone, as his aggressive stance clearly demonstrated, but if Hip and Aether didn’t see where the leg was regurgitated, they might not ever find it. Unlike the Giant, who could be tracked by Aether, using gravity and magnetism, the leg could perish in the ice and eventually be unsalvageable.
Hip’s impatience with the Giant vanished the moment Jen and Muggie entered the Fields of Asphodel and embraced him. Muggie instantly fell asleep in his arms. He kissed the boy’s cheek and lay him in the flowers, in the warm spot on which Hip had just been lying himself. Then he turned his full attention to Jen.
“You certainly know how to make life interesting,” he said to her.
“Don’t give me a hard time about it, Hip.” She threw her arms around his neck. “Just kiss me and tell me you forgive me.”
He pressed his mouth to hers—harder than he had intended. She responded by taking his hair in her fists and pulling him down into the flowers beside the sleeping child.
Back at the Canadian Rockies, Aether said something to Hip telepathically.
What did you say? Hip asked the white god of the upper air.
I said he’s eating the herb.
But Hip had long forgotten about the herb and the Giant and Ares’s leg. The only thing he cared about at the moment was Jen, holding Jen, loving Jen.
Than helped Therese cook supper while Persephone and the twins sat around the kitchen table molding clay into figures. He was pleased to see Hestie make a three-headed dog that was meant to be Cerberus, and, when Than asked Hermie what he was making, the boy said, “Grampa Hades.”
“What about me?” Persephone asked them.
“You’re next!” Hermie assured her.
Persephone kissed the boy on the cheek. “I wish I could stay longer to see you make it, but I really must go.”
Just then, the back door burst open, and Carol entered the kitchen. Her eyes were red-rimmed, and she was trembling. She immediately noticed Persephone at the kitchen table and said, “I’m sorry. I should have called. I didn’t know you had company.”
“Carol, what’s wrong?” Therese wiped her hands on a dish towel and crossed the room to her aunt. “You’ve been crying.”
“I’ll talk to you about it later,” she said. “When you don’t have guests.” She glanced again at Persephone. “Isn’t this Than’s mother?” Carol’s eyes widened. “Wait! Isn’t she…” Carol’s voice trailed off. Her face became as white as the kitchen sink.
Persephone stood from the table and shook Carol’s hand. “It’s lovely to see you again. I see you finally know who I am.”
Carol stared back at her blankly.
“I’m afraid I was just leaving,” Persephone said.
The goddess kissed each of the twins, blew kisses to Than and Therese, and then disappeared.
Carol collapsed onto a kitchen chair, apparently struggling to breathe.
“Carol?” Than asked.
Therese took Carol’s hand. “Can I get you some cold water?”
Carol nodded.
Therese brought her a glass full of ice and water. Than expected Carol to drink it, but instead, she splashed it into her own face and blinked several times, causing the twins to laugh. Then she looked around and asked, “So this isn’t a dream?”
“Grammie?” Hestie laughed at the sight of Carol’s hair plastered to her face. “Did you think you were in the Dreamworld with Uncle Hip?”
Hermie laughed, too.
Carol stared blankly at Hestie for a moment before she said, “That’s exactly what I thought.”
“What’s brought you here all shaken up?” Therese asked.
“Steph called to ask if Richard could come down and help her and John and Bobby carry in a new sofa set they got in town.”
“Did something happen?” Than asked.
Carol shook her head. “Before we hung up the phone, Steph asked if I’d learned to speak to your favorite red birds yet.”
Than glanced at Therese, who met his gaze with a pale face.
Carol looked up at them and said, “So it’s true, then? Are you telling me that the souls of your mother and father, of my sister and her husband, are in those two Cardinals?”
“Yes,” Hermie said matter-of-factly, as he continued to work the clay with his fingers. “They talk to us all the time.”
“They sing to the children,” Therese explained.
“And they speak to us,” Hestie said. “With words.”
Therese and Than exchanged looks of shock.
Than knelt on the floor by the table between the kids so he could look at them at eye level. “This is serious, kids. Do you mean to say you can actually understand what the birds are saying to you?”
The kids looked at one another and nodded.
“We can understand all the animals,” Hermie said. “Even Clifford.”
Therese shouted for joy and jumped up and down before hugging everyone in the room. Clifford ran around the table, yapping his little bark.
Therese asked, “What’s Clifford saying now?”
“He’s so happy that you’re happy,” Hestie said.
Than felt warmth and joy wash over him as he continued to kneel between the twins and watch his happy wife.
“Do you know what this means?” Therese asked. “This means I can talk to them again, through the kids! I can communicate with my parents again!”
Than noticed that Carol was still pale and trembling where she sat at the table.
“Are you okay?” he asked her.
“No, but I will be.”
Hermie held up the figure of clay he’d made. “This is my Grampa Hades.”
“And this is his dog,” Hestie added. “His name is Cerberus.”
“Have you met them?” Carol asked, looking as though she was afraid of the answer.
“Of course,” Hermie said. “We went to see them just last week.”
Than was surprised when Carol’s pale frown became a smile and she laughed hysterically. “Of course you did! That’s perfectly reasonable! You went to visit your grandparents in the Underworld!”
“Grandma Persephone wasn’t there,” Hermie corrected.
“She was still on Mount Olympus,” Hestie explained.
“Of course she was!” Carol laughed. “Mount Olympus! With the other gods and goddesses!”
“That’s why she came today to see us,” Hermie added.
Hestie nodded. “She’s going back to the Underworld for the fall and winter while our great-grammie stays in her winter cabin. Right, Mommy?”
“That’s right,” Therese said.
“I may need another glass of ice water,” Carol said.
Jen lay in the Asphodel between Muggie and Hip, with Hip’s cheek against her heart. She played with his soft hair and listened to the gentle sound of his snores. She wished she could fall asleep, too. It had been weeks since she’d slept. But there was too much on her mind.
One thought swirling around in her head was her disappointment in herself for trusting Scylla when everyone had warned her not to. Jen had really believed that there was good in her.
And maybe there still was. Jen wasn’t ready to give up on her completely.
But why? Why was she so desperate to believe that this monster could be rehabilitated? Jen had never been that kind of person before—the bleeding-heart who believed everyone was innately good. That was more Therese’s style. No, Jen was usually less trusting, perhaps even to a fault. So why would she put herself and Stormy in danger? What was she trying to prove?
She supposed she might not ever figure out the answer to her question, and, as she was about to give up on it, another plagued her mind. Why was Hip tracking the Giant alone? He’d originally gone with half a dozen Olympians—until he lost his power of disintegration when he was hurt. He was healed now, so what was the deal? Why hadn’t he rejoined forces with the others?
She kissed the soft hair on his head. “Hip? Will you disintegrate and meet me back in our rooms? I’m leaving Muggie here, though, with you, because I need to get back to my duties for a while.”
He nodded without opening his eyes as she slipped out from beneath him, kissed him and Muggie once more, and then walked through the fields to their rooms.
Before she entered her abode, she heard shouting coming from the main palace. Curious, she turned down the winding corridor and followed the Phlegethon—the river of fire—to the back of Hades and Persephone’s palace.
“I should have been consulted,” she heard Hades shout. “This affects my domain.”
“Our domain,” Persephone corrected.
“Yes. Our domain.”
“And how many centuries did you make decisions without consulting me? I didn’t think you would object.”
“I made those decisions long before the Athena Alliance gave us equal dominion over the Underworld, my dear, and it gives you no right to make decisions without me now.”
“What would be the harm in having another deity among us?” Persephone asked. “Especially when he would bring joy to our son and his wife?”
“It’s the principle of the matter,” Hades pointed out. “Besides, I’m concerned less with another deity than I am with the well-being of Hypnos. We have no idea who’s behind these attacks. Doesn’t it bother you that he’s in grave peril?”
“Of course it bothers me, but the other gods said they would help him.”
“And are they?”
“They were, until he was hurt. No one knew where he was for a while.”
“Exactly my point.”
“But he’s fine now. He’s back. He’s already returned to his duties.”
“A lucky break. And what happens the next time he’s hurt by one of those beasts? What if we’re not so lucky?”
A cold shiver worked its way down Jen’s spine. Hades was right.
“Maybe you should have a word with him then, darling,” Persephone said. “I don’t want to fight with you. We’ve barely kissed since I’ve been home.”
“Come here, my dear,” Hades said. “I go crazy without you. Every year.”
As Jen turned back to her rooms, Hecate appeared and said, “Hades is right, you know. Talk to Hypnos. Convince him that he should never work alone. We may lose him forever.”
Jen’s heart seemed to halt in her chest for a moment before she caught her breath and asked, “Did you have a vision?”
“Not a vision, but a bad feeling,” she said. “If anyone can convince him to take these precautions, it’s you. Good luck.”
Hecate disappeared.
Jen entered her abode and found Hip waiting for her on their couch in front of the small stream of fire that ran alongside their den.
“What took you so long?” he asked.
She sat beside him and told him about the conversation she had overheard between his parents.
“They’re right,” she said. “You shouldn’t be working alone.”
“I’m being very careful. I promise.”
“The other gods want to help. Persephone said that Athena is chomping at the bit to find you, but you haven’t told her your location. Why?”
Hip frowned. “It’s complicated.”
“Don’t give me that.”
He took a deep breath and sighed. Telepathically, he said, I’m not alone.
Jen raised her brows. “You’re not?”
I’m getting help from another god, but he’s made me swear to tell no one his name. He likes to stay under the radar. He’s only helping me because I need it.
“Wait a minute.” Jen sat up and squared herself to him. “You got after me for trusting Scylla, and yet, without hesitation, you’re trusting this god no one even knows about?”
“Sshh.” He’s not unknown. He helped overthrow Cronos. He just likes to keep to himself.
“But still…”
Hip ran his fingers through Jen’s hair and pulled her lips to his. She kissed him back but then lifted her head. “I’m serious, Hip.”
“He saved my arm, Jen. He saved you.”
“What? You lost your arm?” She jumped from the couch and glared at him in shock. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“It’s all good now. The dude was amazing the way he moved in and saved the day. I’m telling you, I can trust him.”
Jen put her hands on her hips and squinted. “Why are you being so hardheaded? Why can’t you just work with the gods we already know we can trust?”
He stood up and wrapped his arms around her waist. “You know what Ares did to Therese, right? You know what Athena did to Medusa. You know what Zeus did to Athena? How is trusting this lesser known deity any riskier than trusting them?”
Jen pouted. “Then why the lecture about me trusting Scylla?”
“Scylla is a known enemy. This dude saved my arm and probably kept me—and definitely you—from being swallowed.”
“Then take your sisters with you. Hecate. Your mother.”
“Fine. If it’ll make you feel better, I’ll ask them.” Hip lowered his voice. “I’m waiting for the Giant to cough up Ares’s leg.”
“What? How?”
“The other god has an herb that will make the beast vomit.”
“That was actually pretty smart.”
“See? This dude knows things.”
“But that Giant isn’t going to just stand there while you take the leg.”
“Probably not.” Hip smiled at her. “The other god will lure the Giant away.”
“And then what?”
“I’ll grab the leg and go to Mount Olympus.”
Jen wrinkled her nose. “It sounds too easy. Things never work out the way you think.”
“It sounds easy because it is. And don’t worry. Before I leave again to find the one responsible for the attacks, I’ll ask my sisters to go with me. Deal?”
Jen leaned in and kissed her husband’s sweet lips. “Deal.”
That night, Therese read to her children, tucked them in, and kissed them goodnight—including Clifford, who was in Hermie’s bed this time. Then she headed downstairs with new feelings of exuberance and glee. It wasn’t that she hadn’t been happy all along. She loved her life in Colorado with her family and her part-time job at the animal shelter. She loved being a wife and mother and being close to her aunt and uncle and Lynn. But she’d been longing to fly through the sky, to god travel at the snap of a finger, to run and swim at super-fast speeds, to communicate freely with her parents, and to speak telepathically to Than and to the other gods. And, oh, how she missed living in the magnificence that was the Underworld. She missed the bats and the snakes and the river of fire. She missed her Underworld family, too. Most of all, she missed her ability to bring humans and their animal companions together with her bow and arrows.
There were still days when she reached for her bow and quiver before she remembered that they were gone. The day she became mortal again, they had disappeared. They had gone as quickly as they had appeared that day she had claimed her purpose on Mount Olympus.
And now, to be told by Persephone that there might be a chance for her to have it all again. Well, who could blame her for feeling giddy?
But Than didn’t believe it. He’d said again and again that Persephone’s idea seemed impossible. Even now, as she settled onto the couch beside him in front of the television, he noticed her expression of exuberance and frowned.
There was nothing he could say, though, to prevent her from having hope. Persephone had said that the words of the Fates would still ring true if the four of them were to one day undergo apotheosis—which was the process of a mortal being made immortal by Zeus with goblets of ambrosia on Mount Olympus. The Fates had said she and Than would have no immortal children, that they would bear no immortal children, and that had come to pass. But the Fates had not said that their mortal children wouldn’t one day be transformed. Persephone seemed sure that if Therese and Than could think of something that Zeus desperately needed—if they found some kind of bargaining chip—then they could make the dream of reuniting with the gods a reality.
Than stroked her hair and met her smiling face. He kissed her gently and whispered, “Would you be unhappy living a mortal life with me and our children?”
Therese cupped his cheeks with both hands. “Of course not. I’m already happier than I ever thought possible.”
As he kissed her again, she couldn’t help but think that, although her words were true, Persephone had planted a seed of hope in Therese that could never be destroyed. Therese was determined to find a way to restore immortality to all four of them.
Hip groaned and pinched his nose at the mound of green and red slime that shot from the Giant’s middle head and down the mountainside. Aether hovered in the sky beside him, apparently unaffected.
“That’s so disgusting,” Hip said. He covered his mouth and looked away. “Do you see the leg?”
“Not yet. Be patient.”
Hip glanced back down at the beast in time to see the two outside heads spewing more slime. “Oh, gods.”
“It’s still better than fighting him. Wouldn’t you agree?” Aether asked.
“Um, I’d say the jury’s still out on that.” He fought his own urge to vomit and was suddenly reminded of the time Hermes had fed him the Moly plant to protect Hip from Circe’s dark magic.
That hadn’t gone so well.
“There.” Aether pointed to a patch of ice on a cliff edge. “See it?”
Hypnos narrowed his eyes. It was Ares’s leg, all right, but it was covered in green and red slime. “Oh, boy. I don’t suppose you know how to make it rain? Give the ol’ leg a quick shower?”
“That’s not my department,” Aether said. “You’ll want Iris for that—though, at this temperature and altitude, I have a feeling it would only turn into more ice and snow.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right. But thanks, man. Now all I have to do is figure out who let the dogs out in the first place. If I do that, Zeus will allow me to have a son.”
“I didn’t realize you had so much riding on this quest,” Aether said.
“I’m afraid I’ve already invested quite a bit in the idea,” Hip admitted.
“I’ll go lure the Giant back toward the east. Once you’ve returned Ares’s leg to Mount Olympus, come back, and I’ll help you find the god responsible for this mess.”
Hip frowned. “I promised my wife I’d work with my sisters. She doesn’t like me working alone.” Hip extended his hand to Aether, who shook it. “But thanks, man. I couldn’t have gotten this far without you.”
It was Aether’s turn to frown. “That’s too bad. I was beginning to enjoy your company.”
“Same, my friend. Why don’t you come out of hiding, back into the fold? Maybe you don’t want to live under the radar after all.”
“I wish I could, Hypnos, but I have my reasons. If you want to hear my story someday, you know where to find me. And if you don’t make any progress with your sisters, feel free to come see me. I have a hunch about who’s been attacking Gaia, but I can’t risk saying so out here in the open. My cave is heavily warded. You’re welcome anytime, but come alone.”
“Why didn’t you tell me this earlier?” Hip asked.
“I didn’t want to get involved,” the god said. “But I’ve grown fond of you in this short time. I’d like you to have your son.”
Before Hip could say more, the god flew down and taunted the Giant. Enraged, the beast leapt across the Canadian Rocky Mountains toward Aether, leaving Ares’s leg behind.
Holding his breath to avoid the pungent odor, Hip cupped snow into his hands and melted it, using the water to rinse the leg until it was washed clean. He took up the leg and god traveled to Mount Olympus. At his request, the seasons opened the gates. Hip was alarmed when Hermes appeared near the whale fountain with a look of fright, shouting some kind of warning as he pointed at the gates. Hip dropped Ares’s leg and turned.
Peering down at him just outside the still open gates was one of the heads of another Giant—one with eyes. It opened its iron jaws and spit fire as it filled the air with a terrifying shriek. The fire engulfing Hip strangely felt like ice, though it burned. When the flames gave way to smoke, Hip was lifted from Mount Olympus between iron teeth, and the slimy tongue of the monster forced him down its throat.