Page 77 of Flame and Fury

Wren opens her mouth and then closes it. She turns to stare out the window for a minute before looking back at Hades. “If you know what I am, why are you helping me?”

Fuck. We need to know this. I have the same damn question. Why are Hades and Ares willing to help a Fury that could put them asleep? Ares especially. The Furies punished him last time, right along with my father and the others. I want to believe this isn’t a trap, but I’ve been on full alert for so long that I can’t simply relax and hope that everything will work out for the best.

“Did you know I wasn’t put to sleep with the rest of the gods?” Hades sits back and crosses his arms.

“There were always rumors, but my father isn’t exactly forthcoming with details about that time,” I reply. Wren shakes her head, letting him know she wasn’t aware.

Hades nods. There’s a distant look in his eyes, as if he’s recalling long-buried memories. I suppose if he’s thinking about when all the gods were put to sleep, that was practically an eternity ago.

“It’s true. Not all the gods were put asleep. None of the major gods of Olympus escaped unscathed.”

“Except for you,” I remind him.

“Technically, you could say I’m one of the gods of Olympus, but I’m often overlooked from all angles. Not that I mind. I don’t need to be lumped in with the rest to feel special. And it’s true that many lesser gods also escaped the wrath of the Furies. That’s not to say they were innocent of injustices and shouldn’t have been punished, but it just wasn’t possible. It took an enormous feat of strength for the Furies to get as many of the gods to sleep as they did.”

The sun is starting to rise. I’ve lost track of how long I’ve been awake and the last time I ate. I made sandwiches for Wren earlier, but I didn’t eat any. I’ve learned that when Wren is hungry, her temper is on a short fuse. It’s more than that, though. With Wren, there’s this need to take care of her. She doesn’t do it for herself. Someone needs to. My attention is jerked back to Hades when he speaks again.

“Nyx had two sisters. They were incredibly strong, especially when they pooled their power. Back then, the Furies were responsible for ensuring that what few laws we had were followed accordingly. It didn’t matter if you were human or divine. The Furies protected those who were wronged and afforded them the opportunity for retribution.

“Over time, the gods grew increasingly out of control. Humans became their playthings and punching bags. Eventually, it was so bad the Furies couldn’t stand by any longer. Was I innocent in all of this? No. None of us are truly innocent if we do nothing while others suffer. But I told myself it wasn’t my responsibility. I was the god of the Underworld. That was my domain. I should not concern myself with the living.

“It took me a very long time to realize that alive or dead, I need to care about the lives of others.” Hades rakes a hand through his dark hair. It’s been thousands of years, but it’s as if this admission is still fresh. His guilt is tangible.

“The Furies were born from the depths of the Underworld. Molded from the sands of Olympus, the ash of Earth, and combined with the waters of the river Styx. They were breathed into life by the Titans before many of the gods that you know today even existed.”

The Titans. The mere mention of those ancient beings raises the hair on the back of my neck. It’s said they went to sleep eons before the gods of Olympus were put to rest. They lived for so long that they wanted nothing more than the peace of sleep.

“How did the Furies put the gods to sleep?” Wren’s leaning forward, entranced by the story Hades is weaving.

“That will be a question for Nyx to answer.” Hades falls silent. Wren blinks a few times like she’s waking up.

How is it that we are facing the same problems that plagued us thousands of years ago? My father and the other gods abusing their power. The Furies being the last hope for our future. Except there isn’t an entire population to help us. It’s just Wren and maybe Nyx. I believe Kat and the Underground are fundamentally doing the right thing.I understand why she set things in motion recently. They are working to take back power, to free the people of this territory from the whims of the gods and the clerics. I know it’s necessary, but I’m really starting to resent having to drag Wren into this mess.

We pulled Wren into this fight without asking if she wanted to be a contender. I’m the guiltiest of them all. I took what little trust Wren had in me and smashed it. My only hope is that, in the end, it’s worth everything I’ve put her through. If we don’t put the gods to sleep, we’ll lose everything.

CHAPTER40

WREN

Iturn my attention to the window, resting my forehead on the cool glass as I watch my city come into view. The sun is rising, casting the sky in a dusky gray. There’s no brilliant orange sunrise waiting for us this morning. It looks like more rain is coming.

The farther we drive into the city, the more confused I become. I don’t know where I expected us to go, but when we pass the Hole, the rundown bar where I’ve worked for the last six years, I turn to Hades with a questioning stare.

“What are we doing in Old Town?” It’s the neighborhood that I grew up in. We never adopted a new name for Chicago or any parts of our city. Zeus and Hera tried to implement a god-centered naming system in their territory. Some cities changed their names, like Washington DC, which is now Heraton. But most people refuse to use the monikers assigned by the gods. At one point, the clerics even attempted to change street names, but more often than not, the signs would be spray-painted over, knocked down, or stolen.

“It's not just your neighborhood.” Hades gives me a cagey smile.

More questions are on the tip of my tongue. I don’t have time to ask them before the limo pulls up in front of a four-story apartment building. The mortar on the bricks is dotted with holes and crumbling in some parts. The gutters are clogged with debris and the cement steps that lead up to the front door are missing a chunk on the left side. The rusted railing has fallen off the steps completely and is propped up against the side of the building.

I’ve walked past these apartments hundreds of times in my life. I don’t understand why we’re here now.

“We should probably hurry inside. We wouldn’t want to attract any unnecessary attention,” Hades says as he knocks on the partition window. That must signal something to the driver. Hades gestures toward the door, and Atlas opens it without comment. Knowing Hades is right, I hustle out of the car and up the crumbling steps of the apartment building.

This isn’t the kind of place where you have to be buzzed inside. In fact, most apartment buildings around here don’t have any kind of security besides a deadbolt. The front door is weather warped, and I throw my hip into the aged wood to shove it open.

Atlas and Hades are right behind me. Atlas closes the door and the three of us stand inside a narrow hallway. The floor is covered in gray carpeting that is at a minimum forty years old. It’s ripped and frayed in some spots. In others, it’s darker where things have been spilled and never properly cleaned up. There is a set of stairs immediately to our right that leads up to the other floors.

“Where to?” I direct my question at Hades since he’s the only one who knows where we’re headed.

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