The Deep End of the Sea (26 page)

I reach up and grab at my hair. “Why me? Why is he—” I can’t even get it out, I’m so furious.

Hermes lays a hand against one cheek and tilts my face toward his. When he speaks, it’s like he has to tear the words out. “Do you remember how I told you that, even if you fall out of love with me, I will always love you? That the gods, as fickle as mortals believe us to be, are actually very constant once our minds are made up? He ... he fell in love with you all those years ago. It doesn’t matter to him how you feel, or how much time has passed. To him, you are the person he wants. The one he’s
always
wanted. As sick as it sounds, he loves you.”

This is
insane
. “Don’t I have a say in this?”

“Of course you do,” Persephone says, glancing quickly between both her husband and nephew. “But I hope you don’t mind, we naturally assumed you were not interested in what he has to offer.”

“Damn right I’m not!” Heat flushes up my neck as hopeless rage threatens to tear my chest open. “That ... that bastard—he ... he
raped
me. He ... last night—he ...!” Hysteria chokes the words right out of me.
“I would rather die that ever allow him to touch me again!”

Hermes’ arms circle me; between his shaking and my shuddering so hard, it’s a wonder we’re even upright. “He won’t. I swear he won’t. Medusa, I—I failed you yesterday, but I swear, I won’t again. This is why it’s best you leave Olympus.”

Will he stop this nonsense about failing me? It’s totally ridic—wait.
What’s this about leaving?

“I’m going to make sure he can’t find you, and then I will do everything in my power to make sure the Assembly rules against him. When I am done, you will never have to fear him again.”

The room around me spins. Wait. Hold on. This is going to fast. Wait.

“We will be fighting for you,” Persephone is saying. “This is the best solution. But darling, time is running short. The Assembly is set to meet in two hours time. You must be long gone by then.”

Are my feet even on the ground? I try to be rational; it’s the only way I think I’ll be able to get through the day. “Okay.” I nod my head. Take a deep breath. “Okay. I’ll pack a bag and get Mátia and—”

“There is no time to get him.” Hades sounds sad as he tells me this. “Be rest assured he will be well taken care of, though. A bag has been brought for you.”

They want me to leave behind Mátia? I blink once, twice, three times. “When do I leave?”

Hermes’ lips drop to the top of my head and stay there. It’s Hades who says, “Within minutes.”

“It’s for the best,” Persephone says softly. “To this I swear.”

Okay. Well, this isn’t ideal, but ... “Where are we going?” My hands press against Hermes’ bare chest.

Much like the night before, every muscle in his body tenses. Unease blooms in my belly.

“He cannot go with you,” Hades tells me in a flat voice, and my world officially comes grinding to a halt as I step outside my body.

“None of us can,” Persephone whispers.

They’re sending me away without my cat, without my best friend, without anybody I hold dear?

I try to pull away from Hermes, to see his face, but he won’t let me. He holds on tighter, his chest now rising and falling rapidly. So I stare out accusingly at Persephone and Hades.

“An associate of mine will be taking you to an undisclosed location within the next ten minutes.” The Lord of the Underworld assumes a business-like tone. “None of us in this room know where it will be; it will be best this way. If the Assembly petitions us for knowledge, we will not be able to disclose it, even under pain of punishment. You will be transferred from being under our protection to this person and those they choose to work with you.”

I’m completely numb. Even my fury is gone. Here I am, hearing how my life is once more changing, and I can’t dredge up a single emotion.

“There will be rules you will be expected to follow while you are in their care. Medusa, you will not be allowed to speak any of our names. Not a single one—not mine, not Peri’s, especially not Hermes’. You will not speak your own name; a new one will be assigned to you, one we will not know. Names are like beacons to the gods; if you name us, we will be able to find you wherever you are. My brother will be able to locate you if you use any of these names; it does not need to be only his that is voiced.” He pushes back the dark hair spilling onto his forehead. “There will be no communication between any of us and you, nor will there be any communication between us and your protectors, at least in relation to you. There will be no praying to the gods, silent or spoken.”

I can’t feel my feet. Not even Hermes’ arms around me.

“We do not know how long you must stay in hiding. Obviously, the goal is to defeat my brother’s petition, thereby paving your way back home, if it is what you so wish for then. However ...” He coughs into his fist, once more flicking his dark eyes toward Hermes. “However, if things do not go our way, if my brother somehow manages to sway the Assembly ... then we, of course, will do everything in our power to make sure that neither he nor Athena will have access to you again.”

His meaning sinks in, slowly but surely. I will never see Hermes again. Or my cat. Or anybody I have grown to love. I don’t even have Mikkos anymore. I have nobody.

I think I was better off cursed, on an island.

Amund comes into the room. “Five minutes out,
minn hirra
.”

Hades thanks him. “Do you have any questions for us?”

I stare blankly, not really seeing them anymore. I try one more time. “Do I have a say in any of this?”

“Of course you do.” The Queen of the Underworld is on the verge of tears again. It’s funny how hers can come so easy and mine are nowhere to be found. Why is that? I should be crying. Flat-out sobbing. But I’m not. I can’t feel the fear I know I surely must have, the anger, the helplessness, or the desperation that must be constricting my lungs. “You can choose to come back to Olympus. It’s just ... darling ...”

They cannot guarantee my safety. They thought they could, yet in the end, Athena and Poseidon found me, anyway.
Why me?
Why am I such a draw for these gods? I guess it doesn’t really matter, though. I’m going to be sent to exile again.

“
Minn hirra
Hades?” Amund holds his hand over the base of his phone. “Border patrol says the Greek Seas is thirty minutes out. They tried to detain him, but it appears he’s had help from within our Council.”

“Fuck. Ægir, right?” Hades picks up a nearby vase, thin and an ugly, sickly green, and smashes it against the wall. I don’t even flinch, not like Persephone does. Not like even Amund does. “Give me the damn phone. If they’re looking for war, they’ve got it. Peri, say your goodbyes.” He quickly presses a kiss against the top of my forehead and then storms out of the room.

“We love you so very much. Stay safe, stay safe,” Persephone whispers, kissing my exposed cheek. She wraps her arms around both me and Hermes, as he’s refused to let me go yet, squeezing hard and then hurrying out after her husband.

The heart of the man I love races in his chest below my ear. He expects me to just say goodbye? We’ve been—he’s been my best friend for over two thousand years. And while it hasn’t been until just recently that I’ve seen him every single day, there’s never been an extended period of time when we haven’t had access to one another.

And now ...

I may never see him again.

I want to rage, accuse him of giving up on me too easily, except I’m hollow. This isn’t how it was supposed to be. Love conquers all, doesn’t it? Being a good person, trying your best ... those should count. I’ve tried so hard over the years.

His strong hands once more cup my face, angling it so I look up at him. “I swore to you that I would do whatever it took to make sure you are safe. I will do anything to keep this promise. Even rip out my heart and send it with you. Because that’s is what I am doing today, Dusa. I am sending you away, and I am sending you with my heart, because I cannot stand the thought of you being punished one more second because of my family.”

I’d say my own heart is breaking, only I can’t feel that, either. Maybe he’s already taken it out of my chest. “You don’t want to come with me?”

“Of course I do. You think I like the idea of letting you go, that having no way to find you is easy?” He shoves one of my hands against his heart. “He would be able to find me. The Assembly has always had the ability to find one another; it’s been a failsafe of our governing body. I cannot risk him getting to you. For as strong as I am, as influential as I am, I am not one of the Three. I cannot fight him alone, Dusa. None but the Three are alone a match for each other’s strengths. I need my uncle, my aunt—I need my sister and her husband. I need us to outweigh any and all power he might amass in this fight.” He kisses my forehead. “More importantly, I need you to continue to be strong.”

I laugh quietly. Bitterly. “I am the weakest person alive, haven’t you noticed? If you are no match for him, then I am nothing.”

“In that you are wrong.” He presses a kiss against the corner of my mouth. “He thinks you will kowtow to him immediately. He thought that last night. And yet, you fought back. You went against one of the Three’s wishes and refused his demands. That’s strength, love.”

I look into his eyes. Stars above, I love his eyes. How can I live without them in my life? “He threatened to kill you.”

This amuses him. “He can try.”

How can he be so flippant? Doesn’t he understand what his death would do to me? Somebody calls out his name. Oh, stars—our time is growing too short. I lick my dry lips. “Promise me something?”

Another kiss on the other corner of my mouth. “Anything.”

“Stay at your uncle’s.” I swallow. “Take care of my ...
our
cat. Do not let that bastard hurt you. I’ll never forgive you if you do.”

Another kiss, a light brush across the center of my lips. “I will fight for us, Medusa. I will not give up. Please do not give up on yourself, either. Never forget that I love you. Never forget that you mean everything to me.”

Amund comes in, carrying a small bag. “Andlát is here.”

Andlát ... Andlát ... I cannot translate the word immediately.

Hermes kisses me: hot, desperate, and deep. I can taste his frustration, taste his love and pain, and somewhere in me, something finally breaks.

Our lips part far too soon for my likes. And then Hermes is walking me to the garage, where the small black sports car no longer resides. In its place is an empty room with oil-stained floors and a man with graying hair and a hawk-like nose.

Amund hands the man the bag, gives a respectful bow, and then leaves, shutting the door behind him.

“It is good to see you, old friend,” the man tells Hermes. “Although I wish it was under different circumstances.”

Hermes pulls me close. “She is my heart. Do you understand the consequences of failure?”

The man smiles patiently, as if this threat from a powerful god is nothing. “Of course.”

Hermes holds out his hand; out of seemingly nowhere, the man pulls out a dagger and slashes my beloved’s palm. Just as I’m about to shriek in horror, Hermes’ other arm pulls me in tighter. “Do not worry,” he whispers to me. “This is as expected.”

The man smiles blandly and then cuts his own hand in the same spot. Within seconds, Hermes and the man press their palms together.

“It is done,” the man says.

Hermes squeezes his hand shut; the blood and wound disappear. He gently tips my chin upward so our eyes meet. “I trust this man, Dusa. I’ve known him a long time. He will not fail you.”

You’re leaving me, is what I want to say.

Our foreheads touch. “I love you. Hold onto that. I did not wait two thousand years for your love only to lose it so easily.”

And yet, you’re letting me go, is what I want to say.

When we kiss for the final time, emotions roar to life within me. Overwhelming love fills me up and overflows into this dingy garage, filling up the hollow spaces carved out just minutes before.

Then he is gone, back through the door in which Amund first led us through. And the funny thing is, he calls me his heart, says he’s sending his with me, but he just took mine out the door with him. I am left behind with the strange, composed man holding a bag and the key to my future.

“I am Death,” he says calmly, smiling serenely. “But you may call me Jocko. It’s best we hurry. I feel the Greek Sea’s wrath, moving like a hurricane to dry shores in our direction. The Greek Messenger’s benediction he just laid upon you will only act as a shield for so long through my portal through the afterlife. Our journey there will be brief; just long enough to get us to where I need us to go. Shall we?”

He holds his hand out, the one that now shares my beloved’s blood. I stare at it in wonder. Hermes just blessed me?

“Come, child. Let us make haste.”

The irony is not lost on me that I finally make Death’s acquaintance just when I decide life is worth living.