Page 9 of Spring's Descent
But I’d lost track of time.
I’d joined Thanatos this past year as Hecate’s ability to travel between realms grew harder, her magic weakening in time with the power of the covens. My little witch had evaded me for too long, and now both our worlds were suffering for it.
The night air shifted, bringing with it the scent of rosewood and the subtle sounds of large, feathered wings overhead. Thanatos dropped from the sky a moment later, the soles of his boots gentle on the hard earth. His silver blond hair was half bound, the long stands reaching well past his shoulders.
“Anything?” I asked, keeping my voice low as I scanned the trees. We’d told only Hecate of our plans to venture between realms, but that didn’t mean my bastard-of-a-brother wouldn’t have spies scattered across The Realm of the Living, just in case.
Zeus knew of the rapidly approaching deadline, as did the other gods in The Aboveworld, and did nothing.
Never mind that the death magic was running wild in my realm, as well. My brothers and sisters hadn’t started this apocalypse, but they didn’t particularly care if it came to fruition.
They were convinced I would fail. When I did, when every soul in The Realm of the Living was forced to The Underworld, Zeus would create a new generation of humans. Like a spoiled child exchanging his old toys for new ones.
Thanatos was one of the few gods who sided with me. Being the God of Death forced you to grasp the enormity of a soul transitioning between realms. He was my brother in every way that mattered, the one being who’d been by my side through it all—war, women, and curses. Hecate understood enough, but Thanatos felt each loss as I did.
“Not yet,” he said, his white wings vanishing from view as he stepped beside me. “But the humans in town tell tales ofpowerful witches from the forest. Witches who enjoy music and drink… and the occasional partner.”
My teeth clenched. It would seem my little witch enjoyed rebelling against Demeter more often than I realized. It should have been a relief that I wasn’t marrying a pious bigot, a sign that perhaps I could get her to set aside her prejudices and join The Dark Faction willingly, but the thought of her scent clinging to another caused an unfamiliar burn in the pit of my stomach—was that jealousy?
I’d had fleeting nights of pleasure myself, but it was an exchange. A basic need being met—like eating or drinking. Everything, all emotion other than anger and pain had been stripped from me long ago. There was a time when it had been more, a fading memory of blood racing and bodies moving, but those days were gone.
This wasn’t about love. It never would be. Love was a fool’s notion, a ridiculous belief mortals concocted to lighten the harsh reality of their short, miserable lives.
Thiswas about possession. Claiming my little witch would ensure power was returned to me.
That was all it was. All it could ever be. But the thought of her fucking another felt like a dull knife sawing through bone.
“I’ve had Orpheus playing ballads to lure witches for the last three days,” Thanatos continued in a conversational tone, the same one he always got when trying to steer me away from a killing spree. I may not be as callous as my siblings, but there were always souls in need of punishment. “Word is circulating. If the Earth Coven is truly in The Black Forest, Persephone will appear within the week.”
I nodded. “Demeter is calling her ‘Korae’. I doubt she knows her true name.”
“I’ve informed him,” Thanatos said. “The witches who frequent the tavern never stay. Orpheus says some lingerthrough the night if they choose to take a lover, but all return before the sun rises.”
My nostrils flared but I pushed the flicker of anger from my mind and stepped forward, teetering on the cliff’s edge. The tavern continued to fill, but I sensed no flash of power among its patrons. No promise of redemption. “We have a month, brother. One month until all is lost.”
“We’ll find her. Orpheus was sure a few witches visited yesterday. We only need to wait for the first to arrive and then follow them back to the coven.”
“As we have done time and time again,” I gritted out, the darkness inside of me spilling over. The sparse foliage peeking through the rocky cliff withered as the temperature around us dropped. “Another forest. Another coven, but I can’t scent her. What if the stableboy was wrong? Who’s to say we’re any closer to finding her?”
“Don’t do that. This is the last coven founded by earth witches originating from The Crystal City. I’ll take the far edge of the forest while you stay near. She must be here,” Thanatos said, taking a step back as shadows condensed around me. Frost fissured out along smooth stones as the plants alive and thriving only moments before blackened into husks devoid of life. But he didn’t run. Didn’t flinch under the might of the death magic.
He understood the strain I was under because he’d been the one cleaning up my messes.
Rolling out my shoulders, I took a deep breath and drew the darkness toward me, coiling it tightly within my being where it couldn’t hurt anyone. The anger I’d felt moments ago chilled as the dark magic of The Underworld rushed through my veins, weaving its cold power through my very soul.
“You can’t keep taking the power into yourself, Hades.” Thanatos’s voice was soft, not chiding but concerned. “You maybe the God of The Underworld, but you are not immune to the effects of death magic.”
I didn’t bother responding. It had felt like an ice pick slicing through my ribs the first few times I’d taken back the death magic, but my heart had stopped beating long ago, frozen by the infinite darkness. I barely felt it now. Barely felt anything.
We’d had this conversation hundreds of times and the results were always the same: Thanatos cautioned me while I reminded him we had no other option.
Tilting my chin to the moon, I lifted my hands to the stars, expelling a fraction of the creeping cold, more to appease him than anything. The slim traces of moisture in the air froze into dozens of shimmering crystals before pinging in the branches of the trees below.
Those little displays no longer helped. I still felt cold, like the magic of The Underworld was slowly changing me into stone. With this much death magic flowing in my veins, I wondered if I would be cursed to remain. If Persephone escaped and the realms fell, would there be anything left of me to save?
“Shall I fetch Orpheus?”
“No,” I said, allowing the tendrils of my magic to stretch along the edge of the forest. It was a risk to expose my power over such a large area of land. If Demeter sensed me, she’d pack up the witches and flee. But if my little witch was near, she’d be drawn toward me, like a moth to flame. “Let Orpheus play while he can. If he is as good as he claims, Persephone should be along shortly.”