who spoke, her voice dripped with sarcasm, her anger over Adonis still apparent. “Hades does not know the difference between attention and love.”
“Do you speak from experience, Aphrodite?” Hades challenged.
Her expression turned sullen, and she crossed her arms over her chest, sinking into her seat.
His response to Aphrodite silenced the rest, because as much as they liked to make fun, they knew Hades was dangerous. Stealing Helios’ cattle had been a kindness, revenge in its most basic form. If he had wanted to, he could have plunged the world into darkness himself. Helios need not threaten it.
“You will return his cattle, Hades,” Zeus said.
Again, Hades said nothing. He would not argue with Zeus in front of the other gods.
“Since we are assembled. Are there any other matters you wish to bring forth?”
This was the part Hades dreaded. Council was only supposed to be four times a year, and yet Zeus would call it for a trivial reasons and then ask to hear grievances, as if he had nothing better to do than mediate arguments between Poseidon and Ares—the only two who ever spoke.
Except this time.
“Triad is being led by demi-gods,” Hades said, and he looked at Poseidon as he spoke. “I have reason to believe they are planning a rebellion.”
This time, Zeus was not the only one to laugh. Poseidon, Ares, Apollo, even Artemis laughed.
“If they wish for battle, I will bring it,” Ares said, always eager for bloodshed. Hades hated him, hated his lust for death and destruction. He knew not one other god who wished to revel in the horror of war.
“I suppose you laugh because you think it is impossible. But our parents believed the same of us and look where we sit,” Hades said.
“Do I hear fear in your voice?” Ares challenged.
“I am the God of the Dead,” Hades said. “Who am I to fear battle? When you all die, you come to me and face my judges, the same as any mortal.”
Silence followed his statement.
“It would take great power for these demi-gods to defeat us,” Artemis said. “Where would they get it?”
From Divine favor, Hades thought but did not say.
“We are no longer living in the ancient world,” Athena said. “There are weapons other than magic at their disposal.”
It was true, and the longer mortals studied the magic of the gods, the more they understood how to harness it and potentially use it against them.
“I’m merely stating that it would be in our best interest to observe,” Hades said. “Triad will grow in numbers and strength if their high lords are as predictable as I think.”
“And who are these high lords?” Zeus asked.
Hades looked to Poseidon, and Zeus’ gaze followed, eyes narrowing. “Is this some scheme of yours, brother?”
“How dare you!” Poseidon’s first clenched the arms of his throne, cracking the shell it was made from.
“You’ve tried to take my throne before, you meddlesome prick!”
“Prick? Who are you calling a prick? Need I remind you, brother, just because you sit upon the throne as King of the Gods does not mean I am less powerful.”
Suddenly, everyone was glaring at him, save Zeus and Poseidon, who were locked in a verbal battle. Hades just chuckled.
“Imagine this as your torture in Tartarus,” he said. “For it is the sentence you’ll all receive for making me sit through this fuckery.”
Hours later, Hades found himself in Zeus’ office. It was a traditional space, furnished with a large oak desk that sat before a set of bookcases lined with leather-bound volumes he most definitely used for show. Large windows overlooked Zeus’ vast estate, where he kept a heard of bulls, cows, sheep, and swans. That was where Hades stood, while Zeus poured them a drink.
“So you stole Helios’ cattle,” Zeus said.
“He prevented me from carrying out Divine Judgement,” Hades said. “He had to be punished.”
“But you agree that his punishment has gone on long enough, yes?”
“If you are asking for confirmation that I will return his cattle, yes.” Hades paused. “In due course.”
Zeus sighed.
“Helios can threaten darkness all he likes, but he forgets that I am the darkness. It answers to me.”
Zeus had nothing to say to that. He took a drink and swished the alcohol in his mouth before saying, “Alright, but if push comes to shove, I’m not intervening.”
“I would be offended if you did,” Hades replied.
He drained the drink Zeus had offered and sat the glass down with a click, preparing to leave.