Page 88 of Going to Hell
“Need of you? How about saying something nice to Zotera about the carvings?”
Hades’ lips actually curled back into a silent, angry snarl.
“Why can I never be enough?”
“How does saying something nice about her hard work have anything to do with you being enough? Which also doesn’t make any sense. Enough for what?”
“For your displeasure. You hurt anything I favor. So I choose to favor very little.”
The lightbulb went on in my head. He hadn’t fed Zotera because of me. He didn’t look at her or act nice to her because of me. Or rather, Persephone. They both thought I was going to find some way to be cruel to her, which would hurt him indirectly. That’s what he meant by being enough. He wanted me—or rather Persephone—to only hurt him directly.
Why then did he openly say he favored the furies? Was that like putting a bullseye on their backs?
I frowned and rubbed my head again.
“You make me tired,” I said.
“Then let us rest.”
“No. I’d rather let you keep working on the names. Any luck finding my uncle?”
“You will be the first to know when the requested soul is found.” Hades’ attention flicked to the statue then back to me.
His gaze swept my face, lingering on my mouth for a nerve-wracking moment, before he turned and strode away.
“He provided you with refreshments, Mother,” Zotera said, drawing my lingering focus from the empty doorway.
I glanced at the far table, and my stomach growled even though I couldn’t see what was there.
“Are you hungry?” I asked Zotera.
She hesitantly nodded, and we started across the space.
“What should we make next?” I asked.
“Anything you want, Mother.”
“Do you know what a penguin is?”
“No.”
“What about a dog?”
The laugh she gave was borderline maniacal. “Yes. I will make the perfect statue for Father.”
“Let’s eat first.”
She took her seat at the table and picked up her piece of moldy bread.
“Please change that into something that tastes better.”
Her shocked gaze locked on mine for a moment. Then the bread changed into a stew bowl similar to mine.
“What other foods are there? And please don’t make a pig’s head appear. I already saw one, and it did not look appetizing.”
Her food changed from stew to a platter of cheese, bread, grapes, olives, and a small bowl of oil.
“That looks good. Can you change mine into that?”
