“What did she mean?” Hades asked as they moved through the tunnel at a much faster pace than Kore and Hades had earlier. 

Briareos’ heads shook. Acute worry shone in his dozens of eyes. “I’m not sure.” 

Hades looked at Kore. “Do you think she hinted at what Keuthonymos had?” 

Until the god mentioned it, the thought hadn’t crossed her mind, but now Kore heavily analyzed the possibility. Concern churned her stomach. 

Had it been a mistake to free the Hecatoncheires? 

Had the Fates known? 

If so, why would they have put in motion this mission? 

“I don’t know,” she said. 

Hades sighed. 

“But we keep on course?” Briareos asked. 

Kore and Hades nodded. 

What other option could they indulge? 

The Fates hadn’t lied that the Hecatoncheires were the gods’ last means to defeat the Titans, and Kore hoped that any consequences from releasing the Hecatoncheires wouldn’t be devastating. Or at least less so than Cronus winning the war.

Near the entrance, Hades made Briareos stop so he could retrieve Cerberus. The pup yipped with delight when he saw the god, but squealed in terror when Kottos, the smallest of the Hecatoncheires, reached out to pet him. He fought with Hades when the god went to put the harness on his back, but Hades overpowered Cerberus’ attempts to flee. 

The pup didn’t struggle once in place, but he howled non-stop. 

The shadow of a smile uplifted Briareos’ lips as he picked the god up again. “Can we continue?” 

“Yes,” Hades said. 

Briareos didn’t release his passengers when they reached the desert. Instead, he moved at a breathtaking speed that made Kore wish the Hecatoncheir had been at their disposal at the mission’s start. 

The journey back to the opening of the pit took a quarter of the time Kore had expected their first day. 

By the Tartarus river, Briareos placed Kore and Hades on the ground. Kore put two fingers in her mouth and let loose a piercing whistle that shocked the complaining Cerberus into silence. A beautiful animal cry Kore hadn’t heard in far too long answered, and a dark shape burst from the tree canopy and shot right for Kore. 

Kottos and Gyges tensed.  

“No, it’s fine,” Kore told them as Adrasteia, unharmed and slightly dirty, neared. 

The two Hecatoncheires looked at their brother. 

Briareos nodded, and their muscles slackened.  

Adrasteia landed in front of Kore. Her trusted steed bent close to her master and evaluated her from head-to-toe; sniffed her several times. Finished, Adrasteia let loose a guttural growl, and Kore swore she glared at Hades. 

Before Adrasteia could act, Kore threw her arms around her magnificent bat. 

“Behave,” she said. 

Adrasteia’s growl lessened but didn’t end, yet Kore felt Adrasteia relax. She glowered at the god, but Kore didn’t worry. It might take a while, but Adrasteia would warm to Hades. 

Hades cleared his throat. “How are we all leaving here?” 

Kore released her hold on Adrasteia but kept one hand in her fur. With her free hand, Kore gestured to the god. “We’ll ride Adrasteia.” She glanced at the Hecatoncheires. “I don’t know about you. Hecate could spell a vessel capable of pulling you from Tartarus.”

Briareos looked at the opening of the pit. “Can the walls be scaled?” 

“Yes,” Kore said. 

Briareos clapped his brothers on several of their arms. “Then we will follow.” 

“Won’t that take too long?” Hades asked. 

Kore regarded the Hecatoncheires and shook her head. “No, they’ll make good time. Just be wary of Pyriphlegethon,” she said to the Hecatoncheires. She pointed at the river of flames. “He might try to coax you to come near. Don’t or you’ll perish.”

The Hecatoncheires all muttered their understanding. 

“Once you get to the top,” Kore continued, “wait for a goddess who will introduce herself as Hecate. She’ll help you get to my palace, so we can go to the Upperworld.” 

The Hecatoncheires nodded.

Kore smiled at Hades. “It’s safe to assume we’ve both had enough of Tartarus?” 

Hades approached her and Adrasteia. “We can’t leave fast enough.” 

Kore chuckled and readjusted Adrasteia’s reins. Kottos helped Kore and Hades onto the bat’s back. Like before, Hades hugged Kore close at the waist but gentler, and he avoided her back.

Despite the pain the simple contact brought, the god’s touch still thrilled, made Kore crave more. 

As if he sensed her desire, Hades kissed Kore’s neck. She shuddered but called out an order to Adrasteia lest she forgot where they were and what they’d yet to accomplish and get lost in Hades’ affections. 

Adrasteia launched herself into the air. The sudden movement drew Kore from her longing, though if it hadn’t, Cerberus’ barks of frightened outrage would have. 

The ride back to the Underworld seemed ages longer than the first. Early into the journey, Cerberus ceased his barking, whether from a loss of voice or acceptance of the circumstance, Kore couldn’t say. 

Around this time, Kore and Hades launched into a discussion about their next course of action. 

Both needed a thorough bath and extensive medical aid (Kore assured the god Hecate had spells and potions that would heal them just as well as Apollo could, albeit it’d take longer). A long rest would be nice, but they couldn’t afford the time. 

The Hecatoncheires had to get to Mount Olympus as soon possible, and the last attack against Cronus must be launched before the Titan King could combat the Hecatoncheires. 

Kore and Hades debated if a message should be sent to Zeus while they took the time to mend themselves. 

They decided against the idea. The surprise would upset Zeus, but he’d have less opportunity to lash out insensibly with the Hecatoncheires before him. 

As their discussion died, the opening to the pit came into view. Kore vowed to never set foot in her father’s domain again. If she implemented Hades’ suggestion and used Tartarus as a punishment for the worst souls, she’d choose someone else (and heavily compensate them) to make the treks to that unforgiving land. 

Adrasteia’s pace increased when they cleared the Pyriphlegethon. She soared over the Fields, and Kore sensed the strain the speed put on her steed. She told Adrasteia not to tire herself out, but the bat pretended her master hadn’t spoken. Kore sighed and hoped Adrasteia didn’t exhaust herself to the point of death.  

When the city and her palace came into view, Kore’s heart leaped into her throat and she fought tears. Never had the home she’d created looked so beautiful. Never had Kore been as grateful as she was in this moment that, despite her upbringing, she’d found a haven she’d sacrifice herself for time and time again.

Her emotional response to returning home grew stronger as Adrasteia landed outside her stable and several servants converged around them, cheering and calling sweet endearments. 

The warm welcome ended with a jolt, though, once the servants got a better look at their queen. They let out a collective gasp, and Nalraste, Mulstra’s near-identical sister, rushed to Adrasteia’s side.

“My Queen,” she cried as she reached to help Kore vacate Adrasteia’s back. She hesitated to place her hands on Kore’s burned, abused body. 

“I’ll recover,” Kore said. 

Nalraste nodded, and moments later, Kore stood beside Adrasteia. 

Two stablehands got Hades off the bat and led Adrasteia into her stable. An instant later, she squealed with delight, and Kore knew Adrasteia had discovered a pile of pomegranates waiting for her. 

“My Queen, you need to—” 

“Get me Hecate and inform the Council there will be a meeting as soon as possible,” Kore said over top Nalraste. 

Nalraste nodded, but her red-green eyes remained troubled. “What about your health?” 

The servant’s gaze flickered to Hades, and Kore was happy to note Nalraste displayed no hostility. In fact, she noticed none of the servants regarded Hades as they had when he’d first arrived. 

“I require a healer and a bath,” Kore said.

“First?” Hades pressed. 

Kore smirked at both the god and Nalraste. “Since you both insist.” 

Hades chuckled and Nalraste cracked a tentative smile. 

The three of them headed for the palace. 

As they entered the building, Nalraste kept glancing at Cerberus, whose eyes were wide, and his noses twitched nonstop as he took in his new surroundings. 

Kore nudged Hades and gestured toward the fire demon. 

“Would you like to hold him?” Hades asked. 

Nalraste jumped like she’d been caught misbehaving. 

“I just—I’ve never—Could I, my Lord?” 

Hades shrugged off the harness and handed Cerberus to the fire demon. 

Joy brightened Nalraste’s face, and she giggled when Cerberus licked her chin. 

“He’ll need care, too,” Hades said. 

Nalraste didn’t tear her attention from the pup as she said, “Don’t worry, my Lord. He’ll only receive the best.”

Luckily, Crisian and Friya appeared around the corner, for Nalraste wandered off, lost in her own world as she cuddled and cooed at the pup. 

Crisian glared at the fire demon as she passed him. He opened his mouth, but a quick command from Kore stopped him. 

“Let her be.” 

Crisian nodded. “Yes, my Queen.” 

Kore turned to Hades. “This is where we part, for now.” 

For reasons she couldn’t fully grasp, uttering those words hurt. 

Hades’ eyes glittered with understanding, and she knew he felt the same. His hands twitched like he longed to hold her, but he didn’t. It disappointed her, but his restraint gladdened Kore, too. 

Soon, everyone would discover she intended to make the god her consort if he agreed, but today was not that day. Kore couldn’t risk anything distracting her people from the most important matter: the war. 

The god bowed. “Until later,” he said, and left with Crisian. 

“To your chambers, my Queen?” Friya asked. 

Kore nodded and followed the misery demon. 

In her chambers, Friya tended to her queen with gentle, sure hands and managed to not cause Kore more pain. When she’d cleaned the sweat, muck, and blood from every bit of Kore’s body, the misery demon called for the healer. 

Equipped with Hecate’s magicked ointments and lotions, the healer soon had Kore set on the promising road to recovery, and she felt better than she had in days. 

“Bring Hecate to me,” Kore said once the healer had been seen out and Friya had dressed her in a comfortable peplos.  

“Yes, my Queen.”

Friya left. 

Alone, Kore drank three helpings of the chilled pomegranate juice waiting for her in her main chamber. Simple, nourishing food accompanied the juice, but nausea twisted Kore’s stomach whenever she considered eating. Once she relaxed and her wounds had healed, her hunger would return. 

As she sipped her fourth goblet of juice, a knocking came from her chambers’ door. 

“Come in,” Kore called, and Ziren entered her main chamber. Kore frowned. “Why are you here?” 

Without a word, Ziren raced across the room. While he moved, he revealed a large dagger. Lethal intent etched deep wrinkles into his face, and a zealot fire burned in his eyes.

Before Kore had fully understood the situation, her instincts acted. She threw her goblet at her general. 

It struck him in the head and drew blood but didn’t stop his progress. 

Kore glanced around for a weapon, all while wishing she hadn’t let Friya send her staff away to get cleaned and mended. 

Many objects in her chamber could be used if she had the strength to pick them up, but her well had dried. As a last-ditch effort, Kore attempted to activate her mist, yet got no response. 

With no other choice, Kore dodged the stab Ziren made at her and bolted for the door. 

Kore couldn’t move fast and didn’t get far. 

Ziren’s free hand jutted out as Kore passed and grasped her wet, braided hair. He yanked hard, and Kore lost her footing, which allowed her general to pull her near. She felt his other arm tense and turned as best she could before he could wield his dagger. 

As difficult as it was, Kore elbowed Ziren in the mouth. 

He bit his tongue and cursed her. His hold on her loosened and Kore wiggled free. 

Once again, Kore fled for the door. 

Ziren recovered and ran after her. 

She was a short distance from the door when it burst open. 

A black-clad figure with short, perpetually flowing hair the swirling colors of a torch fire crossed the threshold. Her hands and eyes glowed with a purple force. 

“Duck,” Hecate said in her deep, mystical voice. 

Kore dropped to the floor. 

As easy as flicking away a gnat, Hecate shot forth a pulsing ball of purple witch fire. Too fast to track, it shot across the room and struck Ziren in the chest. He was knocked off his feet and forced back into the table that held Kore’s refreshments. It collapsed to shambles underneath him. 

Ziren lied on top of it, unmoving with smoke rising from where the witch fire had hit him. 

Friya raced around Hecate and headed toward Kore. “My Queen!”  

“I’m—He didn’t hurt me,” Kore said as the misery demon checked her. 

“What happened?” Friya asked. 

The purple glow had left Hecate’s hands and gaze, and she looked at Kore with eyes that kept shifting from icy green to sapphire blue to mud-brown. “The traitor has revealed himself.”