I really don't have much to say about this chapter. It's been in my head for a very long time and now it's finally out. Try to enjoy.


Her hand left the curtain and it fell gently back across the window, obscuring the battle from her eyes. She walked slowly back to the bed, sitting on the edge and looking down at her clasped hands. She couldn't shake the terrible feeling that this war was her fault. She knew Hypnos must have been planning this for a long time, had merely acted on her because he saw the opportunity, but the Oracle's words kept coming back to her. It will be your fault. You will bring the destruction. If she had ignored Hermes, if she hadn't fallen for him, would this have happened? If she had gone about her life, ignorant of the fact that Hermes was out there, that gods existed, would they be at peace? Or was this inevitable? Would there have been some other girl, some other victim, if not her? Had this been the inescapable end that they had been rushing towards the entire time, and nothing anyone could have done would have changed anything?

She glanced right, at the table beside the bed. It contained a few scrolls, a pile of pens, but most prominently displayed was a picture of Lucy. It had been in the spring, when he'd insisted on taking her to Central Park in the rain. She'd protested heavily, but it had done no good, and she'd slipped on rain boots and an anorak. The park was mostly empty, but Hermes had pulled out a speaker and placed it on the bench.

"What are you doing?"

He grinned, pushing play. A cheerful song came from the speakers. He straightened and walked to her, taking her hands and twirling her around. "Dance with me."

She rolled her eyes and laughed, but obliged him. They spun through the puddles, dancing more gracefully than she'd ever danced before—but then, she was with a god. Song melted into song and still they never left each other's arms. The last song drifted to an end and Hermes spun her one last time and she spread out her arms, looking up into the sky. A camera flashed and she stumbled to a stop, turning to look at Hermes. He stashed away a thin camera, grinning at her.

She wrinkled her nose at him. "Why can't I ever take pictures of you?"

He took her hand, pulling her closer. "There are millions of pictures of me. There are far too few of you."

A tear slipped down her cheek as she stared at the picture. He was so ridiculous all the time. And now he'd gone over the edge, done the worst possible thing: he'd sacrificed his life for hers. Such a valuable life for one so insignificant. "Why did you do it, Hermes?" she whispered.

"I wonder the same thing," remarked a voice. She whipped around to see Hypnos standing in the doorway. He smiled congenially at her, but it did not quite reach his eyes. "It did put a damper in my plans. I will have to have a word with my son after this whole mess is over. Why he let you go is beyond me." He sighed, shaking his head. "You made quite a deal more trouble than I thought you would, Miss Harrison. I must commend you for that." He walked into the room a few steps. "I'd like to offer you a deal."

Her hands clenched around each other so tightly her knuckles turned white. "What kind of deal?" She allowed a small part of her brain to be proud of the fact that her voice barely wavered. Not that he'd never seen her cowering in fear before.

"Once this debacle is over, I'll need people to assist me in running the world."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying, unlike Zeus, I am very open-minded in the species of people I allow to work in my government. And you seem like a clever young woman. I'd like to offer you a job."

"Just like that? You aren't afraid of me seeking revenge for deposing the gods or anything like that?"

He laughed. "I trust you, Lucy. But, I do have something that will help with that." He reached into his jacket and pulled out something. He took another few steps forward and held it out. She examined it, not moving from her place on the bed. It was a small glass vial containing a silvery liquid. She looked up at Hypnos.

"What is it?"

"This is water from the river Lethe. It is my river, so to speak. I'm its guardian. Lethe is one of the five rivers of the—"

"The Underworld, I know."

He frowned. "Don't interrupt me. Yes, one of the five rivers of the Underworld. I assume you know what it does."

She bit her lip. "It's the river of forgetfulness. You drink from it and forget everything. But…I thought it was only for the dead."

He shook his head, the grin back on his face. "Not if you're its guardian. I can choose who to give it to." He tipped the vial from side to side. "One sip of this and you'll forget your old life. You can forget about the gods, about Hermes."

"Why would I willingly do that?" she asked angrily.

He tutted. "Temper, Miss Harrison. Besides, your willingness wouldn't be a problem if I really wanted you to take it. Don't you remember what happened last time you tried to resist me?" She shuddered and he chuckled. "So you do. But my point is, I'm giving you a choice. When this war ends and the gods are defeated, you won't be able to do anything about it. It will be as if your precious Hermes is dead." She winced and looked down. "Yes, you can guess how much pain you'll be in." He walked forward until he stood directly in front of her and took her chin gently, pulling her up. He smiled. "So I'm offering you a deal. Drink this." He held the vial up. "And you'll forget him. You will have a high place in my government. You'll be happy. Or, don't drink it, and be forced to remember him for the rest of your life. You'll remain a mortal, on Earth. You'll be in pain. You won't be happy." He stroked the side of her cheek, a sad expression assembled on his face. She trembled, her eyes fixed on the bottle. "So which will it be? Drink or don't drink?"

Her eyes moved from the vial to his face and back again. The silvery liquid spun lazily in the bottle, as if still connected to its river. Would it be so bad, really, to be able to forget? To finally forget, not only the loss of Hermes, but her past? Would it be so terrible?

Hypnos watched the girl, pleased. She had been just uncertain enough for him to plant the seed, and now it was growing. She was considering it, truly considering it. He hadn't been lying when he'd offered her a position. He had to grudgingly acknowledge that she was very clever, and a girl like that, especially one that had originally been on the side of the gods but seen the light and switched over, would be a powerful incentive to anyone else to switch. It would show that he could be fair, that he could be reasonable; unlike the gods he'd deposed. She looked up, her expression determined, and he composed his face. She reached for the bottle, her fingers shaking. His smile widened.

"I choose…" And then she was gone, and the vial was smashing against the floor.

He blinked, spinning around to find her and catching sight of the girl disappearing around the door. "Hey!" He followed.

Her mind raced frantically as she ran. She thought it was futile, stupid to run from a god. She expected him to catch her at any second, trap her again in those awful chains. But he didn't. She didn't dare look behind her, only focused on stumbling through the halls. Luck was on her side, if in the worst way possible, and she had to take advantage of it. It seemed like ages before she even made it to the Great Hall, but she did and tore through it straight out of the palace. She flew down the steps, dodging the furiously fighting immortals. No one paid any attention to what they assumed was just another fighter.

Lucy left the palace behind, running as fast as she possibly could from the dark figure she was sure was behind her. Her lungs burned, her breath came in harsh pants. But she couldn't stop. Pure fear and adrenaline pushed her forward.

She ran past fallen columns, burning pennants, immortals locked in battle. There was Poseidon, surrounded by huge waves. There was Ares, furiously slashing at another god. There were Apollo and Artemis, back to back, wielding their bows. There was Zeus, his thunderbolts flashing. There were hundreds of gods, all battling to the death, or whatever awaited immortals after life. Olympus had been transformed into a terrifying bloodbath.

Lucy had no idea where she was running, only that she was running from Hypnos, until she saw a golden caduceus glinting in the red sun. Hermes' temple. Hermes' temple! At that moment, a plan flashed through her mind. It was supremely dangerous, of course—more than dangerous, actually, deadly—and she wasn't entirely sure it would work. But if it was all she could do, she had to try. She owed him. She owed him for so much. This would barely start to repay the debt.

She dodged falling debris and sprinted to the temple. Other than columns in front that had been knocked over and a section of the marble roof that had somehow caught on fire, the temple was in an acceptable condition. The girl flew up the steps of the temple, not knowing that she had been imbued with some kind of supernatural speed, not knowing that the spirit within her was the reason she hadn't yet been caught, only knowing that she had to get inside the doors of that temple. She pushed against them desperately; they'd been knocked ajar by a fallen column. Luckily, or she would have had no hope of opening the heavy golden doors. Squeezing through the gap, she fell into the temple.

It was cool and dark. A sense of calm pervaded the room, but did not touch the frantic girl. It was her first time in his temple and any other time she would have spent hours memorizing the room and what was in it, but she ignored the statues and paintings that decorated the hall, going straight to the alter in the middle.

She fumbled for the ornamental knife, dropping it with her shaking hands. Frantically, she grabbed it and held it above her heart. Please work, she prayed, please, please.

Hypnos entered the temple just in time to see Lucy kneeling and clutching the jeweled knife, visibly trembling with fear.

"I sacrifice myself to Hermes," she panted, "to release him from his imprisonment."

In one smooth movement, Lucy plunged the blade through her heart.

She gasped in pain and Hypnos screamed in frustration.

The god looked like he would finish her off himself, then suddenly turned eerily calm. He walked toward her slowly.

"Well well well, Miss Harrison. This was your answer to my deal? The third option, one that, admittedly, even I didn't think of. Releasing Hermes, that's very clever. How did you come up with it?" He sighed sadly. "You would have been an excellent addition to my government. But no matter." He laughed. "How do you think Hermes will react once he finds out that his precious mortal killed herself? How effective do you think he'll be against us then? Considering how he was when he thought you'd merely lied to him, this should actually be more entertaining than detrimental. You really didn't think that one through, did you?" He tsked at her before vanishing in a cloud of dark smoke.

Lucy knelt on the ground, her fingers wrapped around the knife handle weakly. She pulled it out with a gasp of pain and pressed her fingers against the wound, instinctively trying to staunch the flow of blood. Maybe I shouldn't have done this, she thought. But with the time and resources she had, it had been the only way.

Hermes was free; now he could fight, he could defend himself. He was as safe as she could ever make him.

She curled up, her head on her knees, tears slipping down her cheeks. As her last breath left her, she closed her eyes.

"I'm so sorry, Hermes."

In the temple of the God of Thieves, a girl lay against the base of a golden alter. A jeweled knife, used only for sacrifices, was discarded next to her, stained a bright, violent red. It matched the red that came from the dark gash in her chest. No one knew the girl was here, no one knew what she just sacrificed. She was more alone than she'd ever been in her life, more alone than the night after her rape, more alone than her first day in the city. But it didn't matter anymore. Her soul was no longer in her body. Her fingers would no longer touch piano keys or color a drawing, her cheeks had no color left to blush, her lips would never again curve upward in an unwilling smile. Her green eyes had closed forever.

Lucy Harrison, the first mortal loved by a god in over twenty centuries, was dead. And the battle, completely oblivious to the loss, raged on.


None of you expected this, did you? But people die in wars. They do it every day.