Anubis studied the three of us, still chuckling as Talon stood back to his feet, licking his fur dejectedly, pretending none of us had seen anything amiss. I let it go, because the fact that Anubis hadn’t taken offense to it removed all shame. Well, some of it.

“When you made that sweet, magical decision, I want to go to Hell… I was quite satisfied, you might say. Odin – against his will, I might add – was forced to make good on a favor he owed me from way back. You remember now, yes?” he asked.

I tried to hide my surprise. “You were the guy in the hood…” The mysterious guy that Odin had brought before me, asking if he was satisfied after they watched me for a few moments.

He held out his hands dramatically. “Couldn’t stay long, you understand. Can’t leave this place unguarded. The residents get… uppity. But I sent my wardens to keep tabs on you in my stead.” He pointed at the Calaveras. “I still had to wait for Death to arrange the meet. Formally. Pity the Calaveras never caught you. Your trip would have been so much easier, and less costly.”

I blinked, opening my mouth and then shutting it. The Candy Skulls had been… trying to give me a ride? And I wouldn’t have had to risk… I took a deep breath, not even wanting to hear the details or I would do something drastically stupid. I followed Othello’s advice.

“Anubis…” I said instead, shaking my head. “I honestly didn’t see this coming.”

Anubis leaned forward. “Anubis gets all the chicks.” I guessed he was technically right, being Lord of the Dead. He got all the chicks and dudes, in the end. Just… sloppy seconds. I very wisely didn’t voice that thought.

“What about Osiris? I thought he took your place?” I said, hoping he couldn’t read minds.

He waved a hand. “With Isis giving him that new golden… confidence-booster and then ditching him after she got what she wanted – her son, Horus – he found other ways to occupy his time. I discreetly took back the throne to leave him to his… hobbies. It’s amazing what a woman will do for a bar of gold.” He winked at me. “Or for a son. Like Horus.” His eyes flared for a second. What the hell was that supposed to mean?

Talon and Carl shared a look, not understanding the conversation in the slightest. Their faces, if anything, were almost entirely smudged now. Like greasy, black stains.

Anubis scratched at his ear absently and I swore I saw his foot quickly tap the floor as he did. No, I thought to myself. Did he just… like a dog when someone scratches his ear?

“Well, what is your request? May as well get on with it. No use burning daylight.”

Anubis was apparently very lonely down here in Hell. Like he had been saving these jokes for eons, and we were now his captive – double entendre intended – audience.

“Surely, you already know…”

“I don’t get much conversation down here. Humor me, Hope.” I stiffened as his eyes locked onto the necklace at my throat. “Unfortunately, you won’t find much use for that down here,” he said, suddenly pointing his flail at my necklace. “I must take precautions, you see, to keep my… citizens safe. Like any good King. Always looking out for their best interests,” he said, waving a dismissive hand, as if mocking the words. But the way he said them hadn’t sounded dismissive at all. “Even when they don’t always realize it.”

I hesitated. With my friends looking so… distorted, had my priorities changed? Was he subtly hinting that it was more important to take care of them than my personal ambition in speaking with my parents? Or he was trying to derail me from talking to them. Frighten me.

I realized Anubis was staring at Virgil, frowning, as if I had missed a conversation. Then those indigo black eyes latched onto the Candy Skulls and I saw them all wilt, practically lying prostrate on the floor.

Talon and Carl were both fingering their weapons nervously at the sudden tension.

“You were attacked on your way down here?” Anubis snarled in outrage. I frowned. How would he have not learned this until now? Was he playing a game with me? Trying to see if I would buy such a weak lie? He shot them another withering glare. “This should not have happened,” he warned them in a low tone. As I watched, I began to think that he really might be annoyed, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to witness the Calaveras punishment. If life was torture down here, what constituted punishment? “They must have been so interested to see you appear during the inmates’ recess, that they forgot their job. I can’t just kill them, though. Obliteration is the only exit from this place, and only a god can do that. And I won’t grant them that mercy because good help is so hard to find down here.” He finally turned back to me. “That being said, I now owe you repayment in addition to the original agreement you made.”

I pondered the conversation, ignoring the topic of punishing the Candy Skulls. Anubis would hold to the original agreement and grant me repayment. Perhaps the repayment could be to not pay for the request. I doubted he would go for that. Probably why he openly stated that the original agreement still stood.

Maybe I could ask to heal my friends as this repayment. But one thing at a time. I had come here to talk to my parents, risked our lives for it. That came first. The fact that my parents had been stashed down here in the first place, so hard to reach, pretty much guaranteed they knew something important. And judging by several of Anubis’ comments, I felt mildly confident that I could negotiate the safety of Talon and Carl as this repayment. I locked eyes with Anubis, doing my best to look confident and in control as I faced the Lord of the Dead.

“I want my parents.”

“To take them back home?” he asked in a wry tone. I shook my head. Anubis watched me, curious. “Interesting. To see or speak to them?”

“Both.”

His fingers tapped the arm of his throne thoughtfully, as if considering the dangers. “Hmm… Well, let me see your satchel,” he finally said. “You obviously aren’t carrying anything else useful, and you mentioned gifts. Unless they are the gifts,” he said, pointing at Talon and Carl. I shook my head quickly before they could agree. Something in his tone had sounded almost… eager at mention of my satchel. Could he sense the things inside? Not having much of a choice in the matter – because I could sense Carl and Talon didn’t have long if the smeared look was any indication – I handed it over, keeping my face blank.

As I did so, I discreetly focused on my satchel. Anubis unceremoniously upended it like a bag of trash before his throne. Nothing valuable came out. At least… nothing that I didn’t want him to see. Instead, a stream of weapons, blades, bandages, clothes, and food fell to the floor. I winced as I saw a thick glass vial fall, landing on a pile of silver chain Talon had wanted to bring – a cat-o’-nine-tails, ironically – a whip of sorts.

I let my face flush with guilt as he slowly looked up at me. Oh, he didn’t look pleased. Nothing about his face had changed, but his aura suddenly seemed furious. “Quite a few… weapons. Does this imply you wished to attempt force? Against me?” he chuckled dryly, but his attention shifted back to the pile. He toed some of the items with a boot, grunting at the vial. “A sample from the River Styx… Interesting. Is this your gift? Water?” he spat.

I shrugged sheepishly. “I doubt you wanted any of that floating around up above,” I said neutrally. “Unless you want more men like Achilles.” Because the water of the River Styx was rumored to have made him all but invincible. Except on his heel.

Anubis scooped it up, hefted it in his palm a few times, and then set it beside him before resuming his casual search of the pile of items at his feet. Then he scowled. Maybe he had expected to find something specific inside. The Hammer? The Hourglass? The Hand of God? All were inside, safely tucked away. He lifted the satchel to his nose, sniffing. He snorted, and then stuck his whole freaking head inside, ears and all.

I blinked, sharing a stunned look with Carl and Talon. At least, I think their return look was stunned. The smear made it impossible to tell. Was there any danger to him sticking his head inside my pocket dimension? Could he see what I had hidden?

His muffled words made me flinch. “Something strange about this…”

Ice shot down my arms. “The satchel is very strong. Try slicing it,” I offered in what I hoped sounded a casual tone.

He pulled his head out, shook it like a dog would, and then studied me. His hand instantly changed to a black set of claws that matched the material of his mask – and he slashed at it.

Nothing happened to the bag. Anubis grunted in surprise. Then black shadows abruptly infused his arm and I felt the sudden power practically vibrating the air itself. He had turned on his godly steroids. The world dimmed at the arrival of the shadows around his arm, and screams echoed inside my cerebral cortex as he slashed again, a full body motion.

I hoped Darling and Dear had a good return policy. A dog destroyed my satchel.