Hades’s gaze followed. “I’m getting really tired of his interference. If it weren’t for that damn soul mate curse, I’d have lured you out days ago.”
Soul mate curse? Her brows snapped together. “Lured me out? I don’t—”
“Understand? Yeah,” Hades said with growing impatience. “I remember that phrase well.” He pushed to stand. “Now, little queen, I’ve had enough chitchat for one day. The element. And I’ll be on my way.”
Isadora’s head felt like it might just explode. But one thing was clear. She was all that stood between Hades and the end of the world.
She pushed up to her feet, wobbled but caught herself. Her legs ached, her side was sore, and she was covered in dust. But she lifted her chin and squared her shoulders just the same. “No.”
“What did you say to me?”
Her heart raced, her limbs trembled. He was at least seven feet tall and next to him she looked and felt like a child, but she held her ground. “I said no. I’ll not give it to you. Not freely, at least.”
His eyes went from coal black to bloodred, and before she could even gasp, his entire head exploded in a ball of flames. The face of a fire demon shot out from the blazing inferno. “Who are you to challenge me?”
The roar of his voice lifted the hair away from her face as if a great wind had swept through the temple. She gripped the diamond tighter and knew even if it meant losing her life and her soul for all eternity, this was worth taking a stand for.
From somewhere deep inside she pulled up every ounce of courage she had left. “I said go back to hell. You can’t have it! Not now. Not ever!”
His roar was deafening. She slammed her hands over her ears to block the sound. Flames shot out from every part of his body, the heat so intense it singed the hair on her arms and legs. What was left of him swirled so fast, a giant vortex opened up in the middle of the room. Electricity crackled and popped, and then in an explosion that shook the temple, he vanished, leaving behind nothing but swirling dust and debris followed by bone-chilling silence.
No way that just happened…
Isadora’s heart thundered against her ribs. He was gone. Just that fast. Her eyes darted right and left, searching, waiting for him to poof into reality again and backhand her into eternity.
“Very good, Princess.”
She whipped toward the altar, but this time the voice was female, not male. And even before the face registered, somewhere inside she knew the being staring back at her was a Fate.
A Fate. Oh, gods. She tried to remember what each one was responsible for. Clotho spun the thread of life. Lachesis measured the thread with her rod. And…what was the name of the last one? Atropos, that was it. Atropos cut the thread when one’s time was up.
Isadora’s heart lurched into her throat. Please, please don’t let this be Atropos. There was still so much she needed to do with this life. So much she’d been afraid to try before, but now…
The Fate, dressed in a thin white robe, floated across the ground and stopped a foot from Isadora. She was petite, smaller than Isadora, yet Isadora sensed she was stronger and wiser than any god.
The Fate smiled, the wrinkled skin around her eyes crinkling. “That was quite a show you put on.”
Isadora stood rooted in place with the diamond clenched tightly in her hand, staring at the Fate, wondering how the hell this day could get any weirder.
From somewhere below, Hades roared, “Mine!”
The Fate glared down toward the floor. “Oh, go play with your three-headed dog, you bully.”
He let out another ear-piercing roar, then silence descended once more.
The Fate winked at Isadora. “We don’t have much time. I sense a temper tantrum coming on. He never learned to play well with others, you know.” The humor faded from her voice when she said, “Fear not, dear one, I have not come to snip the thread of your life. If anything, I’ve come to—”
“You’re not Atropos.” A breath of relief swept through Isadora.
The Fate frowned. “I don’t know why those from your world keep mistaking me for that old hag. I’m clearly more attractive than the messenger of death.”
Isadora stared wide-eyed as the Fate chuckled to herself over her own private joke. She wasn’t sure what to say…what to do, for that matter. This meeting was beyond anything she could imagine.
“Oh, bah. Take my word for it. Atropos needs a face-lift or two.” The Fate squared her shoulders. “Now, before our time is up, I’ll get on with the purpose of my visit. You grow weaker by the day, as do your sisters. But fear not, for the strength you all seek is at hand.”
“But the Orb of Krónos,” Isadora cut in, remembering the medallion around Gryphon’s—Apophis’s—neck. “We lost it.”
The Fate waved off her protest. “Where does your strength come from, dear one? Not from some magickal orb. It comes from that which is hidden deep inside each of you. Use that for the good of mankind and you won’t be lost.”
Isadora had no idea what that meant. “I don’t understand. Why are you helping me? How—?”
“There are powers at work here no one expects you to understand. And I help you because you, unlike some others I know, are wise enough to listen. But ask yourself this: why wouldn’t I help you, Hora? The Fates want balance in this world and the next as much as you do. I’m not telling you anything you don’t already know. I’m simply encouraging you to remain steadfast. There are rules in this world, rules not even I can break. But know this, you were right in that you are all linked to the Titan Themis through your father’s bloodline. Hold steady to that, and you and your sisters will find the answers you seek. The bonds the three of you share cannot be broken. Not by any god. Not by any spell. Not even by Hera’s curse.”
Hera’s curse.
The ground trembled and Isadora’s gaze shot to the floor again.
“I suggest you hurry.” The Fate pointed toward the entrance. “Hades has a nasty temper. And you, clever girl, have succeeded in aggravating him greatly. Normally I would take much amusement in that, but not at the expense of your safety.”
Isadora’s head spun as she tried to make sense of everything the Fate had said. She took three steps toward the door then whipped back. “Wait. The witches in Thrace Castle…they cast some kind of spell over me. Is that…is that why I’ve been drawn to Demetrius?”
“I cannot answer your questions.” The Fate tipped her head. “But ponder this: what does your heart tell you?”
Isadora searched her feelings. No. No, what she felt for Demetrius had come from the very center of her. No spell could make her feel the depth of emotion she’d felt the last few days.
“I knew you were wiser than most believed,” the Fate said with a smile, drawing Isadora’s attention again. “The attraction spell those witches cast was wrenched from your body when Apophis decided to punish you.”
So her reaction to Demetrius really was her own. Isadora breathed a bit easier, though why she wasn’t quite sure. But then another thought occurred. “Hades said something about the soul mate curse. He didn’t mean…?”
The Fate lifted her salt-and-pepper eyebrows.
Isadora’s throat grew thick. She couldn’t believe she was thinking this, let alone was about to say it. “He couldn’t possibly have meant Demetrius is my soul mate, could he?”
“Argoleans, even those of the royal family, do not have soul mates. You know this.”
No, they didn’t. Only the Argonauts had soul mates. And thanks to Hera, they were intended to be a curse, not a blessing.
The disappointment was swift and consuming. As swift as a blade to the chest. And completely unexpected. Did she even want to be his soul mate? That was just—