Who do you think you are?

He had dared me to show myself. That insolent mortal had dared to stand there and call me a liar.

“A liar!” I shouted and flung my goblet of wine across the room. The black glass shattered against the marble stones and blood red wine dripped down to the floor. Cerberus bent his heads to inspect the dark puddle and then yelped and skittered away as I hurled a golden plate with the same violence as the cup that had preceded it. Purple grapes bounced and rolled along the floor and I crushed one under my heel.

How dare he.

How dare he challenge me. This librarian… this mortal… this…

A pewter bowl filled with dark red pomegranates caught my eye and I lifted one and examine it carefully before crushing it in my fist. The tart juice ran down my arm and dripped onto the floor to stain my bare feet, but I didn’t care. The ruined fruit splashed into the puddle of wine as I threw it away with a disgusted sneer.

I ripped tapestries from the wall, smashed ancient jars, and dented golden plates. With each item I destroyed, Gideon’s face was burned deeper into my memories. The way he had spoken to me in the library just now—full of fire and conviction—this was what I craved; my own secret desire.

I didn’t want a docile partner. I’d had a pale, silent consort for centuries, and look where that had gotten me. I ground the pomegranate into the marble stones and gritted my teeth. I needed a challenge, and somewhere, whatever Fate had aligned me with Gideon had known...

I clenched my hands in anger, looking for something else to throw and found nothing but my books.

There was no denying what I had felt. No way to avoid it. But how could I go to him now? How could I tell him that he had been right all along? He would throw it in my face, that’s how it would go.

I paced the library while my mind whirled, replaying every moment we had shared, analyzing every word spoken—how had I not known sooner? How had I been so blind to his true nature, and why was I now trying so hard to escape it?

But he had pursued me—something had pulled him to me. Were the Fates on our side after all?

In a fit of frustration, I pushed over a stack of books and roared in anger as they toppled to the floor. Wine soaked into their ancient pages and I cursed myself for being so blind to the truth. I had been so busy avoiding the prophecy that I had ruined my chance at fulfilling it. If I went to Gideon now he would laugh.

The God of Death—afraid of an apology. How ridiculous. I deserved Gideon’s laughter.

“What did you do now, brother?”

Zeus.

I grabbed the flagon of wine and drank deeply before throwing it against the wall with a crash.

A baby’s startled cry cut through the noise and I froze as my brother came down the stairs and into the library holding his newborn goddess in his arms. She was wrapped in a snowy white woolen blanket shot through with gold threads, no doubt woven by Pan from wool taken from his personal flocks.

Cerberus barked happily at the intrusion and bounced around the pair like a puppy; his tail wagged crazily and knocked more items I hadn’t already broken onto the floor before I shooed him away.

“Hush now,” Zeus crooned to the infant. “Uncle Hades has a nasty temper, does he not? You shall have to teach him patience my little flower.”

The baby gurgled in reply and reached up to grip her father’s finger tightly. Zeus’ beatific smile made my stomach churn. He came closer and held the child out to me.

“I’m not hungry,” I snapped, waving the baby away.

“I will forgive your absence this time… but you can’t avoid this any longer. You haven’t been properly introduced to your niece,” Zeus said firmly. “Take her.”

“This isn’t a good time,” I said through gritted teeth. My brother’s gaze tracked over the destruction in my library, and I watched an amused expression spread over his face.

“This is the perfect time.” He held the baby out to me again. I glowered at my brother but this time I took the child. I held her awkwardly at first, and then settled her against my chest.

“Alkira, Goddess of the Spring Winds, meet your uncle… Hades Polyxenos, Lord of the Dark Kingdom of the Underworld,” Zeus said solemnly. The child moved gently in my arms and blinked up at me with wide violet eyes. Her bloodline was clear, this descendant of two gods—ancient and modern.

“I don’t recall any of your children being so… small.” I said after a moment. “Or having so many freckles.” I tapped the child’s tiny nose with one long finger.

At my words, a light breeze that smelled of rain-wet grass and wildflowers blew through the library.

“She gets her freckles from Cameron,” Zeus said softly. “And I think she likes you.”

“No one likes me,” I replied grimly. I looked down at the little goddess’ face as she burbled up at me and reached to tug at my beard.

“Then you had best treasure any ally that crosses your path, no matter how small.”

He wasn’t wrong, but he didn’t need to know that. My younger brother had a habit of being a smug bastard when it suited him—and it always suited him.

“I hope you’ll visit the nursery more often,” he said casually. I disentangled my new niece’s fingers from my beard and handed her back to her father.

“We shall see. I’ve been busy.”

“I’ve noticed,” Zeus snapped as he shifted his daughter in his arms while she fussed and reached for me. “We’ve all noticed. For someone claiming not to be touched by the prophecy, you are spending an inordinate amount of time on earth.”

“Perhaps I am,” I replied as casually as I could. “You said yourself that we should be searching in earnest for our sparks—”

Zeus’ laughter cut my words short and I glared at him as he doubled over with mirth. “You cannot be serious,” he cried. “My dear, gloomy brother, next in line to find the mortal destined to bear his children? Forgive me, but I cannot—” The ruler of Olympus stomped on the marble floor as his laughter overcame him once more.

“Save your breath,” I snapped.

While Zeus wiped at his tears, quieted his squalling daughter, and struggled to bring his laughter under control, I crossed my arms over my chest and glared at him.

“Ah, brother, I am sorry. Truly. But you must see the humor in it. Death himself brought low by a mortal… it cannot be so.”

“When you put it like that it sounds even worse,” I muttered.

“What happened?”

“I lied to him.”

Now it was my brother’s turn to stare. “One rule for you and another for the rest? I don’t know why I expected more from you, Hades.”

“Save your lectures,” I snapped. “What’s done is done, he would never have me now.”

“Are you so sure?”

“What does it matter…”

“But you claimed him… you took him and felt everything Poseidon and I have described?”

I didn’t have to answer; he already knew he was right. All at once, Zeus’ expression changed. “How could you neglect your own warning?” he shouted at me. His eyes blazed with fury as he rounded on me. “You have left him vulnerable, this mortal. You have abandoned your spark to the goddess’ wrath—how could you be so selfish?”

At my brother’s words, I finally shook myself out of the angry trance I’d been consumed by. Gideon was my responsibility now. Whether he hated me or not, I had put him in danger.

“Eris.”

“What? What did you say?”

“Eris,” I repeated myself. The pieces were finally falling into place; I’d just been too blinded to see them. “She was there. She possessed a girl who volunteers at the Vallicelliana. I saw her and she fled.”

“What?” Zeus roared.

“The library, my library—” I stopped mid-shout as a rush of premonition snaked its way up my spine. Alkira’s terrified wail filled the air and Cerberus howled along with her until Zeus quieted them both.

In the blink of an eye, I was standing by my black basalt throne, staring down into the cistern that acted as our window into the mortal world. Zeus appeared a moment later, the child deposited back with Cameron in the nursery.

“Gideon,” I whispered, trying in vain to see him through the fog that was presented to me. “Why can’t I see him?”

“Father!” Hermes arrived on Olympus with a howling wind at his heels. Our messenger always traveled with haste, but his expression was filled with worry, something I’d never seen in him before.

“What is it?” I bellowed. I strode to my nephew and grabbed him by the edge of his tunic to draw him close to my face. “What news?”

Hermes gulped as the chill of my grip seeped into his skin, but Zeus intervened to push me away. “Calm, brother,” he snapped.

“It’s the library… the Vallicelliana. There’s been an earthquake—”

My roar of anger filled the marble hall, and before my nephew could finish his sentence, I was gone.