a sob, and she covered her mouth with her hand to quell her emotion. After a moment, she continued, brushing at her face. “She’s sick. Pineoblastoma. It’s an aggressive cancer.”
He studied the woman; the hurt dwelled within her broken soul. She had struggled to conceive. After several devastating miscarriages and painful treatments, she finally had what she wanted—a perfect baby girl. But at two years old, she started having trouble walking and standing, and all the elation the woman had felt turned to despair.
Still, beneath that horrific sorrow, he could sense the hope she still had for her daughter, the dreams she still dreamed for her. The woman had fought to have this child, and she would fight to keep her on Earth, even if it killed her.
And it would.
Hades’ fists tightened at the thought.
“I wager my life for hers.”
Many mortals had offered up the same, the life of one they loved for another, and no one meant it more than the mothers who begged at his feet. Still, he would not accept.
“My wagers are not for souls like you.”
“Please,” the woman whispered. “I will give you anything. Whatever you want.”
A humorless laugh escaped him. What do you know about what I want? he wanted to say as his thoughts turning to Persephone.
“You could not give me what I want.”
The woman blinked, and she seemed to come to some sort of unspoken conclusion, because she hung her head in her hands and her shoulders shook as she sobbed.
“You were my last hope. My last hope.”
Hades approached her, placed his fingers under her chin, and brushed her tears away. “I will not enter into a contract with you, because I do not wish to take from you. That does not mean I will not help you.”
The woman inhaled sharply, her eyes widening with shock at Hades’ words.
“Your daughter has my favor. She will be well and just as brave as her mother, I think.”
“Oh, thank you! Thank you!” The woman threw her arms around him. He stiffened, not expecting her to react physically, but after a moment, his grip on her tightened before he pulled her away. “Go. See to your daughter.”
The woman took a few steps away. “You are the most generous god.”
Hades’ lips twitched as he chuckled. “I will amend my previous statement. In exchange for my favor, you will tell no one I have aided you.”
The woman’s brows rose. “But—”
He held up his hand to silence her. He had his reasons for asking for anonymity, among them that this offer could be misinterpreted. He could offer her reassurance that her daughter would be okay because she was not dead yet, just in limbo. It was not the same as Orpheus asking for Eurydice’s return to the Upperworld.
Hades had more control over souls in limbo because they were like wildcards, their fate was undetermined. There were various reasons for this—sometimes the original destiny needed to change and the Fates used limbo as a mechanism to alter lives, sometimes the soul themselves did not know if they wish to live or die and limbo was used as a way to give them time to decide.
Finally, she nodded and then broke into a smile, tears still streaming down her face.
“Thank you.” She turned on her heels. “Thank you!”
Hades watched the door after she left, the satisfaction he felt at helping the mortal dissolving into something unpleasant once he was alone, with Hermes and Persephone still hiding in his office. He turned, his magic surging, and forced the two out of the mirror over his fireplace. Hermes, having been in these situations numerous times, was prepared and landed on his feet. Persephone wasn’t so lucky. She landed on her hands and knees with a loud thud.
“Rude,” Hermes said.
“I could say the same,” Hades replied, his eyes quickly shifting to Persephone as she got to her feet, dusting off her hands and knees. She looked different, but he assumed that was because of the way she was dressed. She wore a white tank top and black pants, and her hair was piled in a bun on top of her head, exposing her angled jaw and graceful neck. He liked her like this. She seemed…comfortable.
“Hear everything you wanted?” he asked her.
She glared at him. “I wanted to go to the Underworld, but someone revoked my favor.”
He had not revoked her favor; he’d just kept her from entering the Underworld before he had a chance to talk to her. Unfortunately, he now needed to talk