Page 38 of Raising Hell
Grace’s arrival saved the moment from growing any more uncomfortable. She strode into the hall carrying several bags.
“I hope the food pleases you, Father,” she said, heading for the table that remained at the foot of the stairs.
Before she reached it, the table changed from plain wood to a slab of marble low to the ground. A grass mat peeked from underneath the cushions that appeared. Colorful splashes in an otherwise greyscale space. Three golden sets of dishes waited on the smooth surface, along with gold trident-like utensils and goblets.
If the change surprised Grace, she didn’t show it. She reached the table and unpacked the bags.
“The food should still be warm. Megan said she knew how you liked your steak,” Grace said, looking at me. “So this one is yours.” She touched one container before looking at Hades. “Is there anything else, Father?”
“No, daughter. Thank you.”
He waved his hand, and she disappeared.
“I wonder what she thinks when you do that,” I said, hoping to distract him as I stood.
“Explain,” he said, escorting me from the thrones.
“She’s the oldest of three furies, right? Your favored daughters? Don’t you think she feels a little unwanted when you abruptly dismiss her like that?”
“I am not dismissing her. I am protecting her.”
“Does she know that?”
He released my hand when I reached the first cushion and moved to take the one next to mine. A quick glance confirmed that he was lost in thought. I pulled the container Grace had indicated toward me and checked the napkin waiting on top.
There was another message written inside.
Over 200,000 dead. Learn faster.
I balled the napkin in my hand, feeling sick.
“Eat,” Hades said, noticing. “You’re pale again.”
I nodded and opened my container. My mouth should have been watering at the scent of the steak sitting in its own juice. At the very least, the potato topped with some fancy blobs of butter and sour cream and the side of asparagus should have tempted me. But instead of feeling like I’d found a piece of home, I could only think of the number on the napkin.
Why was I being held responsible for any of this? I never asked to be sent here.
Hades and Zotera took their first bites. Zotera’s eyes closed as she slowly chewed her steak. Hades watched me as he tried his.
“Do you like it?” I asked after he swallowed.
“I do.”
I gave him a weak smile, acknowledging to myself that discovering what foods he liked wasn’t enough to stop people from dying. Two hundred thousand. Was I being selfish by not giving Hades what he wanted? What if sex was what it took to return him to the state I’d found him? I realized it wasn’t having sex with Hades that I feared. It was knowing that I was tricking him. It was knowing that I would condemn him to that decaying state again when I wasn’t sure he deserved it any more than I’d deserved to be sent here. Yet, did those people on earth deserve to die just because he got angry?
Maybe that was the answer. Not appeasing Hades and putting him back to sleep but finding ways to make him happy so no one else died.
“You’re not eating,” Hades said.
“Sorry. Lost in thought.” I cut a bite of my own steak, and all thought stopped the second it touched my tongue. Grace knew what she was doing. It was the best steak I’d ever had. I hurried to finish the bite so I could try the potato.
“Do you like it?” Hades asked, humor lighting his eyes.
“So good,” I mumbled around a mouthful.
“It would seem that humans have advanced much since I last observed them. Perhaps I should spend more time at the viewing pool.” He took another bite.
I was about to agree with him, thinking that he might not be so quick to make everything shake if the pool could show him the damage it caused, when Zotera interrupted.
