She hated to think it, but they wouldn’t free the Hecatoncheires and leave the mountain without challenging the jailer, yet Kore wanted to delay the confrontation for as long as possible. Though she wouldn’t let on, she was less sure than she’d been the entire journey of them succeeding. 

The jailer towered over both her and Hades, maybe even the Hecatoncheires, and Kore wouldn’t doubt she could shake the mountain if she wanted.

How could the two of them defeat the jailer? 

Though Kore didn’t know the creature’s name or parentage, she knew the jailer was older and more powerful than Cronus. At her strongest, Kore’s mist would only irritate the jailer. 

Would Hades be able to use his Purpose? 

If he did, how much damage could it cause? From what Kore had gathered and understood, of his siblings, Hades had the least impressive Purpose. The other five Olympians had utilized their abilities to garner fear and respect, but not Hades. 

No, Kore and Hades needed help. 

Kore glanced at the Hecatoncheires. She could gauge no emotion from their mud-like faces as they gazed down at Hades, who stood in front of the cell. They didn’t react when Hades set down his sword and held up his hands and nodded at the cell bars. 

If asked, would they aide the Daemon Queen and the god? 

Could they rationalize? Had confinement stolen their sanity, if they’d ever had it? 

If not, and the Hecatoncheires lashed out blindly once freed, how could Kore and Hades direct that attack to their advantage?

From this distance, Kore saw Hades’ mouth move, but couldn’t hear his words. At first, it didn’t seem like the Hecatoncheires could either, but after a time, the middle one’s eyes narrowed, and he shifted position. His brothers looked at him and turned back to Hades; more intrigued by the god. 

Hades continued to talk until the middle Hecatoncheir held up multiple hands. The god’s mouth clamped shut, and the Hecatoncheires bent their many heads together. 

A hiss rose from the three as they conversed, and the animal heads around the jailer’s middle growled and whined louder. The jailer’s tail shifted and flicked venom toward Kore. 

As much as it pained her, she hopped out of the way in time to avoid being struck. The venom landed where Kore’s feet had been, and the dirt smoked. Sweat pooled at the nape of Kore’s neck. 

The Hecatoncheires ended their conference. The middle one nodded at Hades. Hades turned and motioned for Kore. With a fleeting glance at the sleeping jailer, Kore sprinted to the cell.

Hades pulled Kore close and nodded at the Hecatoncheires. “They’ll help us if they remain free. We’ve all sworn on the Styx.” 

“My thanks,” Kore said to the Hecatoncheires. She looked at Hades. “We’ll need them to kill the jailer.” 

“I know,” Hades said. 

Kore tested the cell. She saw bars, no lock. “How do we get them out?”

“We weaken the bars, and they’d do the rest.” 

“What could—”

“I thought your mist might,” Hades said. “In your state, can you produce enough to get a good portion of the bars?” 

She could, but to do so would leave Kore nearly useless. What if the jailer woke up before she got far enough, or before the Hecatoncheires could rip apart the bars? What if Hades was forced to go up against the jailer alone, and he failed?

The thought of losing the god twisted Kore’s stomach so horribly, if she didn’t know better, she’d swear she’d been gutted. As selfish and wrong as it was, Kore considered turning away, of letting both the Underworld and Upperworld perish if it meant Hades would stay safe. The god had shed more than his fair share of ichor, sweat, and tears for this war, he shouldn’t offer his life, too. 

“Can you?” Hades pressed. 

Kore pushed aside her misgivings. Hades had had no wrong assumptions about how this mission might end, and he fully accepted what might be inevitable. To suggest, even just to herself, he shouldn’t follow through was an insult.

“Yes,” Kore told him. 

Hades’ eyes flicked to the jailer. His jaw clenched. “We need to hurry,” he said. “I saw her shift.”

Kore nodded and left Hades’ side. She stepped in front of the cell, so close she could touch it, and instructed both him and the Hecatoncheires to give her as much space as possible. 

Once they had, Kore took a few calming breaths and turned her focus inward. She was still aware of her surroundings, of the growing chorus of animal shouts and snarls, of the Hecatoncheires’ hundreds of eyes watching her, but they weren’t in the forefront of her thoughts. 

As tired and injured as she was, to use her mist in the capacity required of her was dangerous. It was a part of Kore but didn’t always obey her, especially if she emitted too much of it. Her ability was much more powerful than any of her siblings’ powers had been and could drain her life-energy if she forgot caution. 

Kore unleashed her mist. It responded as effortlessly as if she had bent her arm. As much as she’d like to emit it all at once, Kore restrained herself. She had to do this slowly. 

The mist pooled around Kore’s feet. She didn’t direct it toward the bars until it had crawled up her legs and obscured her body. As she did, a worry that hadn’t crossed her mind before came: what if the metal bars were immune to her mist?  

The question shook Kore’s concentration. 

In response, her mist shot past the bars, aimed at the Hecatoncheires’ enormous feet. 

Though their expressions didn’t change, the Hecatoncheires all pressed themselves into the opposite wall. 

Just before the mist licked their toes, Kore wrangled it into submission. She sent it back toward the bars and breathed a relieved sigh when she saw flakes of metal fall from the bars. Where the mist was the densest, the bars bubbled. 

The air behind Kore shifted, and before she heard Hades’ shout, she knew what was about to happen. She also knew there was no way to avoid the blow angled at her. Calm rooted her in place and urged her to keep going. Better she died having completed her goal than let all this work be for naught. 

On her right, with her peripheral vision, Kore saw Hades launch himself forward; the sword she’d lent him held high. His face had become a death mask, his eyes as hard as the gems they resembled. With a bit of excitement, Kore realized this is what the god looked like in the throes of battle. 

Hades crashed into the awakened jailer, and Kore felt the heat of one of the flaming blades caress her back. It destroyed parts of her peplos and burned her flesh. Kore gritted her teeth against the scream that hummed in her throat and wrapped her hands around the damaged bars. The mist pulsed, but she held fast to her control. As much agony as it’d brought, the blade had only grazed Kore. 

Kore regained her composure, though difficult with the thrashing and cries she heard as the god battled the jailer. 

The various animal heads squealed louder than ever. 

The jailer, in a cold, seductive voice, goaded Hades. 

The god laughed in response, which brought crueler insults. 

The mist hadn’t worked halfway up the bars when the middle Hecatoncheir stepped forward. “The god needs help,” he said in a booming voice that echoed from his dozen mouths.

Kore shook her head. “The bars aren’t weak enough.” 

The Hecatoncheir looked at his brothers then back at Kore. “It must do.” 

Kore was about to refuse, but Hades released a pain-filled yelp unlike his previous grunts of discomfort. The god was a brave fool, but he couldn’t last much longer. 

She called back her mist with less ease than she’d released it. Kore stepped away from the bars, and the all three Hecatoncheires grasped the weakened bars. 

As one, they pulled, and the swirling qualities of their bodies intensified. Hulking muscles bulged and sweat dripped from their multiple, half-formed faces. 

The metal groaned and drowned out all other noise in the cavern. The jailer paused a mighty swing of her arm that would have cleaved Hades’ head, who she had pinned under a clawed foot. Her eyes, as dark and blue as the ocean, widened and she let loose a terrible shriek. She kicked Hades aside and raced toward the cell. 

The Hecatoncheires struggled harder, but for a long, horrifying moment, it seemed their tremendous effort wasn’t enough. Despite Kore’s assistance, the metal bars were too strong. Somehow, Cronus had found a material that not even the most powerful of Gaia’s children could destroy. 

Then, as the last of Kore’s hope threatened to die, the bars buckled under the Hecatoncheires’ force. 

A triumphant cry escaped the trio; overshadowed by the jailer’s wails. Her pace increased, and Kore saw that, though the Hecatoncheires were now making progress, they wouldn’t free themselves in time. 

Hades limped toward the jailer; covered head-to-toe in gashes and ichor. For his injuries, he moved at a decent speed, but he wouldn’t reach the jailer before she got to the cell. He must have realized this for he slung insults at the jailer as she had earlier, but she didn’t take the bait. 

With a half-formed idea, Kore removed her staff from her back and charged the jailer. 

“Kore, no!” Hades shouted, but her mind shut out his protest. 

Not with stealth or skill, Kore attacked the jailer. She had little strength but had enough to drive the end of her staff into the jailer’s left leg. Kore had struck between scales, and her staff sunk into the jailer’s tender flesh. 

The jailer roared and stopped her assault on the cell. She jabbed at Kore with one of her flame blades. Her years of training overrode her sore, pathetic body, and Kore narrowly avoided the attack by darting between the jailer’s tree-thick legs. Kore attempted to conceal herself under the base of the jailer’s tail, but she didn’t expect the appendage’s whip-like response.

As if an entity with its own mind, the tail swiped at Kore’s chest too fast to avoid. It struck her high in the abdomen and knocked her to the floor. 

She landed on her back and agony like she hadn’t known in decades flooded her body, almost made her pass out. Her vision swam and the scream from earlier belted out of her.

“Kore!” came Hades’ furious response. 

She wanted to tell him to stay back, to make sure the Hecatoncheires were free, but she forgot how to form words as the tail’s scorpion tip hovered over Kore’s face. Collecting at its tip was a drop of venom large enough to cover all of Kore’s head. 

With detached clarity, she knew it would melt skin and bone, would dissolve her skull. Though it’d be quick, it would be painful to the end.

As much as it shamed her, Kore closed her eyes. For this end, she couldn’t meet it as a fearless queen. Her emotions were too raw, her body’s stress too great, and at that moment, she reverted to a youngling scared of the shadows and begging for Fulrict’s comforting embrace. 

The ground tremored as if in warning of an earthquake, and Kore felt the space above her become devoid of the jailer’s mass. In disbelief, Kore opened her eyes to find herself alone and couldn’t believe her wonderful fortune. Though death loomed all around her, it no longer held her by the throat. 

Before her mind could plan her next move, Hades scooped her into his arms. The unexpected movement sent a dizzying flurry of pain through her body, but this time Kore welcomed it. It was terrible to endure, but at least it meant she lived. 

Hades hobbled toward the vacated cell. 

Halfway there, Kore noticed the battle occurring behind them. While it hurt, she maneuvered herself to watch as the Hecatoncheires unleashed their pent-up fury on their jailer. 

Their massive bodies collided hard enough to shake rocks loose from the ceiling. The cavern walls dented when they slammed into them. 

Though outstripped, the jailer held her own against the Hecatoncheires. She wielded her flaming swords with a graceful skill that made it look like she was dancing more than fighting. The Hecatoncheires attacked with a brutal intensity that was at odds with their impassive faces.

Once in the abandoned cell, Kore demanded Hades release her. 

Hades’ arms tightened. “You’re injured.” 

Kore regarded him. “No worse than you.” 

“But—” 

“We need to be prepared if the Hecatoncheires can’t defeat the jailer.” 

Hades’ lips thinned into a nonexistent line, but he set Kore on her feet. She had to lean against him to regain her balance as a fresh wave of agony rocked her. 

It didn’t last long, and soon she stood beside Hades without aid. Hades flicked her one sideways glance but kept silent. 

They watched the Hecatoncheires and their jailer. 

By this time, all four were covered in cuts, bruises, and each other’s blood. One of the jailer’s swords laid broken in the distance, and her tail’s tip was missing. Though battered, the Hecatoncheires fought with endless vigor. 

The jailer stayed upright, and her blows were confident, but Kore could see her strain. Unless the Hecatoncheires acted unwisely, they would overpower her.  

The jailer miscalculated as she dodged several punches aimed at her head from the Hecatoncheir with strange curves to his limbs, and she stumbled. 

The Hecatoncheir Kore considered their leader jumped to action and knocked the jailer’s second sword out of her grasp. 

The third Hecatoncheir wrapped as many of his arms around the jailer as possible and pinned her arms to her torso. The animal heads tore at the Hecatoncheir’s flesh, but his hold didn’t lessen.

Silent and unceremoniously, the Hecatoncheires’ leader slit the jailer’s throat with her own blade. Grey-blue blood gushed from the wound and coated her chest and the Hecatoncheir confining her. 

The animal heads ceased to form around her middle. 

In their absence, the cavern grew quiet. 

The jailer’s dimming gaze sought Kore and Hades. A mad, amused smile pulled at her full lips. “You fools.” 

She laughed until the noise became a watery rasp. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head and her body went limp.  

The Hecatoncheir holding her squeezed her once, and when he got no response, threw the jailer to the ground. 

The Hecatoncheires’ leader nodded at Kore and Hades. “We’re free.”