Page 68 of Going to Hell
“Will you come to me before you pay the price to leave?” she asked hesitantly. “I missed you. You were gone so long.”
I had no intention of paying the price that Hades demanded. But if he’d found my uncle, there was a chance Hades would finally believe me and send me home without claiming his due. Or he might kill me. Either way, it was unlikely I would see her again. Yet, I couldn’t take that hope from her.
“I’ll try,” I said after a moment.
Woeful understanding flitted across her features, and she nodded.
When Hades was close enough to see, I noticed the way his intent gaze remained locked on me. Did that mean he’d found something? Did he already know I was who I claimed to be? Was he angry? Although, after everything Zotera told me, maybe he’d be relieved to find out I wasn’t Persephone.
“She didn’t harm me,” Zotera said quickly, coming to stand next to me.
His gaze swept over her. “For both of our wellbeing, I hope you speak the truth.”
“I do, Father.”
He held out his hand to me, and I didn’t even hesitate to accept his hold, though I did struggle to maintain eye contact. Why? Because I pitied him or due to the intensity of his gaze? I decided both.
“Goodbye, Mother,” Zotera said sadly.
I returned her unhappy smile and let Hades lead me across the large room.
When we reached the exit, he abruptly stopped and grabbed my chin, surprising me. Anger and frustration rolled from him, and his eyes flickered red. Yet, his touch remained far gentler than his tone.
“Tell me where he is.”
“I-I don’t know. That’s why I asked you to help me find him.”
He narrowed his gaze at me and leaned in so his nose almost touched mine. Internally, I braced myself for another yell.
“I hate your games,” he said roughly before releasing me. “Tell me where to find Creon, and I will locate your soul faster.”
Creon? I struggled to grasp the shift in conversation.
“I don’t know who Creon is.”
Hades curled his lips back as if he’d like nothing more than to strangle me, but he didn’t touch me.
“Creon is the Hall of Records’ scribe. He is missing.” Hades turned on his heel and started walking.
“Wait,” I called. He paused but didn’t look back at me. “Maybe Zotera knows.”
She’d seemed to know a lot about what Persephone did to make Hades miserable.
When he didn’t move, I bolted into the Throne Room and raced across the expanse. Zotera’s shocked stare tracked my progress as she slowly stood. I wished she would have met me halfway because I was out of air by the time I arrived.
“Creon,” I panted. “Do you know where he is?”
Her gaze shifted to just over my shoulder then back to me.
“Yes.”
“Great. Can you show us?”
There was enough hesitancy in her body language when she nodded that I knew I wouldn’t like what we found.
Twenty minutes later, my gut feeling proved correct when I unlocked an oversized wooden door. A giant man lay on a bench in the center of the room. Sharp quills danced over each of his chained six arms, slicing into his grey flesh while ink dripped onto his forehead.
At the sound of the door opening, the giant lifted his head. The joy on his face when he saw Hades spoke volumes as did the way he shuddered when he saw me. There was blood everywhere. The floors, the ceilings. Dried and new. The room stank with the smell, and I covered my mouth and nose.
