Hermes transports me directly to Zeus’ chamber, and we touch down in front of his throne. I don’t even get the reprieve of the walk from the pool to the temple to compose myself before Zeus tears into me.
“What were you thinking?” he bellows as soon as my feet hit the ground.
His anger sends most of the curious onlookers scurrying away, including Hermes, who apparently decides he can collect on his bet later. As much as the other gods might want to see the drama, they have the good sense to get out before Zeus finds a reason to turn his rage on them.
“Never mind,” Zeus says when I open my mouth to defend myself. “You obviously weren’t thinking. What is your sole purpose? Why did I create you?”
“To kill the humans,” I mumble.
“Did I create you to have relationships? To love? Did I create you to get involved with the humans in any way?”
“No.”
“Then how do you explain this?” He gestures to the unmoving black sand in the hourglass.
“I don’t—” I begin, but Zeus cuts me off again.
“I’m not an unreasonable man. I let it go when you told this boy the truth about yourself. I thought it might be good for you to have a little fun. I trusted you to control it. Never did I dream that you would let him into your work area, and I certainly didn’t think you’d let him interrupt your work.”
“He didn’t,” I say. “I did it. I made the conscious decision to put down my shears and spend time with Alex.”
“And I don’t understand why,” he shouts, leaning down from his throne to bellow in my face. “What is so damn special about this boy that you have defied every rule that I set for you?”
“I love him,” I say simply.
“You don’t know anything about love.”
“And you do? You tried to pair me off with Thanatos, who’s an abuser and about as unstable as they come. Did you do that for love?”
“No, I did that because it would have been good for you.”
“Good for you, you mean.” Zeus raises his eyebrows at that, and I see a flicker of uncertainty cross his face. “Yeah, I know all about your little plan to overthrow Hades. Thanatos talks too much. Maybe someone should tell Hades about your duplicity, by the way.”
“Careful,” he warns. “That would not be wise. There would be unpleasant repercussions.”
I say nothing, but I mentally file the information away for later use. I’m sure there will come a time when telling Hades the truth will outweigh any punishment from Zeus. I can wait.
“You may think you love this boy, but I highly doubt he loves you in return. Would he love you if Lacey hadn’t fated him for you? If she hadn’t intervened, do you think he would care for you? It’s impossible for a human to really love a killer.”
Zeus’ words sting. It’s the one thing I wonder above all else. Would Alex love me if not for Lacey’s interference? In my heart, I think not. But I won’t admit that to Zeus.
“I don’t know,” I shout, climbing the steps to Zeus’ throne so I can argue with him face to face. “But maybe you should have thought about the consequences before you allowed Lacey to carry out her ridiculous plan of revenge. Then none of us would be in this mess.”
“Get down,” he says, pointing toward the lower level. The one where the supplicants grovel. I stand my ground. I’m not about to give him the satisfaction.
“No. If I’m going to be bellowed at, you’re going to do it on level terms. I refuse to cower down there like a criminal or an underling. This is as much your fault as it is mine, and I refuse to take all the blame. Or the punishment.”
Zeus’ face turns purple, and lightning begins to ripple from his fingers. Good. Get good and mad, I think. Maybe his rage will meet mine, and we’ll knock Olympus and all its stupid rules right off its foundations.
“I don’t know if Alex could love me without Lacey’s interference,” I say in a calmer tone. “And it’s not like there’s a way to find out, now. But I love him. Lacey didn’t mess with my fate because I don’t have one. I have no life at all, remember? The idea that I can love him gives me hope that he might love me, too. Anyway, as you’ve repeatedly pointed out, he’ll be dead soon, so what does it matter to you whether he loves me or not?”
Zeus sits back on his throne, breathing heavily through his nose, like a bull snorting before charging. He’s thinking hard. I put my hands on my hips and wait for whatever he says next.
“I let your foolishness slide once before, but now you have invited the boy into your sacred space, dishonored your work, and disrespected those who were supposed to die today. Those actions must be punished.”
“Get on with it, then,” I say. “If it will make you feel better and absolve you of your role in this, then go right ahead.”
He raises his hand and, for a moment, I think he might actually hit me. I don’t flinch, though, and that makes me proud. Either because I don’t show fear or because he loses the urge, he lowers his hand and points at me instead.
“You and your workspace will be moved back to Olympus and away from this boy until he dies. You will not spend any more time with him. Instead, you will dedicate yourself to your work. If you need to consult with your sisters or mother, they will be brought here. You will not return to your home until the boy is dead.”
I lean back as if he’d slapped me after all. Of all the things Zeus could do to me, and history shows he has an impressive imagination, strangely, this one hadn’t occurred to me. Buzzards eating my liver? Expected. Separation from Alex? Not expected. In shock, I make a reckless decision.
“Fine. Then you can go ahead and create another Fate to do your killing for you. I quit. Furthermore, I demand mortality,” I say, throwing out the last demand on impulse. Yet, I know it is what I want, and not just because of Alex. Living and killing for as long as I have is unnatural. I’m so tired, and I just want it all to end.
“Absolutely not,” Zeus roars, turning purple again. “You will do your job and you will remain here. As an immortal. I will not even entertain the idea of mortality, which is tantamount to suicide, for any daughter of mine.”
“We’ll see. I think Hades owes me a favor. Might as well cash it in and have him rip out my immortal soul,” I say.
Hades is the only god who can revoke immortality, although it’s never been done. No one’s ever wanted to give up their immortality and besides, from what I understand, the process is beyond painful. Hades once told me that it involves ripping out the immortal soul and replacing it with a mortal version. Sort of like being attacked by the Keres, except you aren’t dying when it happens, so you get to experience all the pain and confusion, unrelieved by the comfort of death.
Zeus waves his hand dismissively. “You forget that my brother works at my command. He won’t do it.”
“He might. He’s never respected you all that much, as I recall. And he doesn’t know about your attempted betrayal, either. There’s bound to be a reward for telling him that. I’m not making an idle threat. I no longer want to be immortal. I’m sick of my job, sick of you, sick of Lacey, and sick of living if the only life I’m ever going to have is nothing but killing. I’ve had a taste of a normal life, and I want it. I don’t want to be your Death Fate any longer.”
“You are my daughter,” Zeus says slowly, as if speaking to an idiot. “And my servant. You have no choice in the matter. It hurts me that you don’t value the gifts you’ve been given, but I will not relieve you of your job. And I will not lose you to mortality.”
“Fine. I’ll go find my uncle.”
I turn to leave Zeus’ chamber, bound to seek out Hades, but two guards who look like they’ve been taking too many steroids appear beside me. Each grabs an arm and holds firm. I twist but can’t get free.
“If you won’t accept your punishment, I’ll simply imprison you until you do,” Zeus says.
“You bastard,” I scream at him. “I’m your daughter, and this is how you treat me?”
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nbsp; Zeus cocks an eyebrow at me. “I grow tired of repeating myself. You are my servant, Atropos, and disobedient servants are punished.”
He waves a hand, and I see a spark of lightning shoot from his fingers. It’s the last thing I see before I black out.