Page 78 of Crown of Olympus
Cerberus blinked, sulking.
Static suddenly buzzed against my skin, and I knew at leastone god had taken up my offer of tentative peace. Cerberus’ heads whipped towards the gate, snarling resuming.
The darkness within flickered as Caelus strode forward confidently, Lykos nipping at his heels. He stopped directly in front of me, expression unreadable as he took the time to assess his surroundings.
“Welcome to the Underworld, princeling — where it is always night, and thingsdotend to lurk in the dark.”
He rolled his eyes and tilted his beautiful face upwards, mouth parting as he looked at the starry night sky. Caelus was so still he could have been a painting. His chiselled jaw was raised, golden skin shimmering softly in the starlight, silver eyes reflecting the constellations above us.
For a heartbeat, I wished I had any talent with a paintbrush — just to preserve the moment the god of lightning and storms fell in love with the night.
My breath hitched. His eyes snapped to mine. Caelus cleared his throat, about to speak when three sharp barks drew our attention. Aros stepped through the arch, sword drawn. Rufus prowled through next, followed closely by Aphrodite and her snowy dove, Leucia.
Emotion clogged my throat. All three had forsaken expectation and fear to come willingly into the Underworld. Aphrodite flashed a brilliant smile.
“I can’t wait to see your home, Nyss! The last time I was here, I didn’t make it that far…” she trailed off sadly.
“Last time?” Aros questioned, confusion twisting his brows.
“It’s a long story,” she murmured.
“Well, we have time! And wine, or so I’ve been promised,” Aros winked, breaking the tension with expert ease.
“Right this way,” I said, grinning as I hooked Aph’s elbow and began the short walk up to the palace. I knew the pathway, with its blackened dirt and jagged edges, so well that I couldwalk it blindfolded. And yet tonight, it felt different. Familiar, worn down by my own footsteps, but inherently changed.
I had never walked it with someone from above. And in inviting these three Olympians down into my home, I saw the Underworld through brand new eyes.
It possessed an eerie, ethereal grandeur found nowhere else. Not in Olympus. Not in the mortal realm. I loved it — so much more than I could ever love the soft kiss of the sun. Even without a moon, the night shone so brightly, flecks of purple and green dotting the star-filled sky.
The trio remained silent as they absorbed everything I took for granted: the groves of asphodel with silvery petals swaying gently in a non-existent breeze; the weeping willows overhead, ink-coloured leaves sprouting from skeletal branches; and far in the distance, the city of Erebos — its obsidian domiciles a haven for the minor gods and unclaimed demigods, discarded by their primal parents. They came here when they had nowhere else left. When their mortal loved ones had passed on. When they remained — tragically, ageless.
Aphrodite paused beside the ebonwood trees, running her fingers across its rough, black bark and glowing blue leaves — the very same trees Charon and I used to climb as godlings.
“They’re so beautiful,” she whispered.
Relief and pride coursed through me. If the goddess of love and beauty could find something worth appreciating here, maybe she could find it withinmetoo.
Aros was unusually subdued, frowning occasionally to himself.
“It’s not what I was expecting,” he murmured. “I mean, it’s dark, and ominously quiet, but I didn’t expect to find…lifehere, too.”
I didn’t respond immediately. I was hesitant to share anything personal with anyone other than Charon — and nowmy bound dragon, who hadn’t exactly had a choice since shackling herself to me in the third trial.
“Charon’s mother raised me, mostly. My father… was absent a lot of the time,” I said. All three Olympians turned to listen intently. “Between his duties and his grief…” I trailed off, composing my thoughts.
Clearing my throat, I continued, “Charon’s mother — her name was Lethe — told me bits and pieces about my mother. When I grew old enough to start asking questions about her, she told me what she could. She said my mother had a phrase she loved to impart:life always finds a way.
And it did. Here in the Underworld, under her influence. Things began to grow where there had been nothing before. Her power was so vast things have continued to grow — even after her death.”
I couldn’t help the way my eyes drifted to Caelus then. Emotions crossed his features so rapidly they were hard to decipher — anger, despair, confusion, finally settling on regret.
“I’m so sorry, Nyssa,” he choked out. “For what my father took from you.”
He sounded broken. Melancholy wove through his tone so forcefully it trembled.
“That was never your apology to make,” I whispered. “The consequences of a parent’s choices do not rest upon the child’s shoulders. Not here,” I declared, shaking my head. “Here, every soul is judged on its own worth and merit.”
And all at once, the realisation slammed into me: I had been doing exactly that to the god before me. I had only seen him as his father’s son — untrustworthy, dangerous, powerful. And while he was definitely the latter two… perhaps I could trusthim.
