Ganymede's heels dug into the dirt as he hauled a hosepipe into the Minotaur's new home. The dark, round cavern had been laid with straw, a feeding trough set up awkwardly in one corner, and the massive animal itself ambled, shackled by Hades' leash, around a natural pillar of stalactite that dove straight through the middle. He noted that the food in the trough lay untouched.

"Alright, big guy," Ganymede said as he yanked on the hose's rubber, which flipped out like a snapping towel with every pull. "It's bath time."

The Minotaur lifted it's snout, it's ears flicking. Ganymede grabbed the handle on top of the nozzle and tried to work it loose, grunts of exertion forcing their way into his voice. "Don't look at me- like that- I'm sick of coming down here and- getting a face full of Minotaur-stink." It had, of course, landed on him to feed this thing and clean out its pen.

The hose didn't give easily. He gritted his teeth against the frustration bubbling up behind his eyes.

He wasn't lonely. He preferred being alone.

Solitude meant no threats or jeering sales pitches. It meant no friction-burn in his chest when the people around him proved to be as self-concerned as he was. They were all trying not to drown, and they would all sink each other in their attempts to keep treading water just a few moment's longer - he was just sick of being the one whose head got shoved under first. But that, in the end, just meant he wanted someone else to drown faster. His nose curled as he shoved down a growing well of tears. He loathed himself more than he could ever have loathed Hades.

The raw flesh of his heart couldn't take much more going wrong. His elbow yanked back and forth and the stiff handle remained locked in place.

The Minotaur moved forwards on its knuckles like a gorilla. With a clunk of iron, it approached Ganymede and huffed deeply.

"Woah!" Ganymede yanked himself back as the giant beast's lungs sucked his curtain of hair towards it. "Hey! Back off!" The bull rocked its head to the side and flicked an ear, and in that moment he hated the sympathy he imagined in its blank eyes. It huffed at him again, sending hay fluttering into the air, and he snapped.

"I said don't look at me like that!" Hot, wet anger squeezed up from the tightness in his chest, his voice cracking and the shriek bouncing off the walls in mockery. "You think I want your pity, you big, stupid animal?!"

It stared towards him without comprehension. Feeling the last thread of his heart's tissue snap, a sudden viciousness shook him to his roots. Heat flushed through him, fury shook every muscle, every word and every thought, and he screamed with rage; "We are NOT friends!" The hose shook in his grasp. "You're not even my stinking pet! You're just one more problem dumped on top of me, and do you have any idea how many others I've got?!" The Minotaur's ears fell and it snorted, turning its head in discomfort. Throwing himself back at the stupid hose with ripping fingers, he kept screaming, "Do you know how many self-righteous assholes wanna screw me - me, specifically - right now?! Do I get any sympathy?! Do I get any respect?! I'm just Olympus' latest chew toy and they just- keep- chewing!"

The handle gave way all at once and a torrent of ice-cold water shot into the Minotaur's chest. Ganymede fumbled in shock as the massive, blind animal reared against the chain and let out a ground-shaking roar of confusion and hurt. It charged like a steam-train towards the source of the water. Ganymede thrust the hose away from himself and dove from its path, and the first time the beast hit the end of the length of chain it made the whole world shake. The hose, now hissing freely, swung in every direction, soaking through hay, stone and fur. Ganymede slammed his hands over his ears as another roar shook the air, then the Minotaur charged again. It was fortunate that Hades' god-made chain couldn't be broken so easily.

The stalactite shattered instead. Ganymede let out a cry of panic as the Minotaur buckled free and then, in its rage (or grief, or fear), charged on. He scrambled back up to his feet, sandals slapping into the frothing puddles. Wringing out the hem of his tonic, he staggered after it before breaking into a full-blown run. "No-no-no-!"


Warm air pulled through the Minotaur's fur as it thundered through the night. Fresh smells - grass, tree bark, running water, the closed cups of sleeping flowers - passed over its snout for the first time as it rolled hoof-over-hoof over the hills and troughs of the countryside. It slowed, its ears lifting, its head tilting, but didn't stop. It faltered only to shake the cold water from its fur, never knowing that it passed beneath a network of stars, or that the flat, white discs of its eyes matched the full moon.

It charged on through the forest, feeling green wood bend and break beneath the pads of its curled fingers, hearing the wind rustling above its head, and though it had never been outside before, or heard a kind voice, or felt a loving hand against its fur, a quiet joy still invited itself into its chest. It galloped up the crest of a hill, drew the air of ten men into its lungs, angled its nose to the sky and lowed. Wolves howled miles away, the boughs of all the trees shook in a shockwave of dust, and somewhere half a mile back, Ganymede stumbled after it.

He didn't recall being under a curse. No midwives with soothsayer side-gigs had ever declared he'd been born under any bad stars. Mercury hadn't been retrofitted to Jupiter or whatever - his fortune shouldn't have been this bad, If that stupid cup had been in his stupid house, and if his own stupid dogs hadn't turned on his own stupid self, maybe he wouldn't have been stuck for so long suffering without hazard pay for that fang-toothed, bug-eyed, six-handicap asshole.

"Stupid Underworld," he panted, fists swinging, hair in tangles. "Stupid Labyrinth-" He kicked a skittering rock. "Stupid Hades."

He stormed throught he forest, slapping through thorned branches with his bare hands as they ripped at his tunic in retaliation. Brambles hooked around his ankles, cut at the leather of his shoes, snagged at his hair, each point of resistance adding to his rising fury. Pressure building, fingers numbing, chest tingling, he was ready to gnaw his own head off at the neck.

He was used to sheep - cute, fluffy, well-behaved sheep, not furry, stinky tanks five times bigger than he was. He'd been a damn good shepherd once, but if the Minotaur hit civilisation, it was unlikely that anyone would remember what an unfair match-up this was. His teeth ground in his skull, a welcome distraction to the guilt burning the pit of his stomach.

Hermes stirred from his cloud to the sound of hoofbeats. Gathering his bleary senses and pulling on his glasses, the blurry smudge of the hulking monster swayed into focus far down below, trampling the countryside, in the direction of a city sprawling along the horizon; Thebes.

"Oh no!" He jolted upright, wings snapping to life. "Not again!" He snatched for his bugle, until a blond speck stomping almost as hard as the monster caught his eye. He rose to his feet and leaned over the cloud to get a better look.

That boy again.

If the Underworld was involved, if they'd released the Minotaur on the city for some reason, then sounding the alarm would mean instant war. Furthermore, he thought back on what Hera had said to him. Even if he wasn't sure what to make of all the fuss surrounding this one acerbic shepherd boy (whether he was a looker or not), he wilted at the thought of causing her any more distress. He glanced to the Minotaur, then to Thebes' skyline, then back to the Minotaur as he tried to pull together a plan.

Grabbing his lyre, he shot down towards the jagged cliffs that stood to the west, not too far off in the distance. There sat a solitary building, immaculately clean and well-kept for its relative isolation.

The plucking notes reached the Minotaur's ears. One lifted. The first song it had ever heard drifted on the sweet wind, patterns of colour playing themselves out, blooming then fading, rising then falling. A new form of beauty unfolded itself through the medium of time, like ink through water, all the more beautiful for how - as far as it could tell - it seemed to be a part of the very breeze itself. It turned, barely hearing the desperate, miserable huffing of the young man trying to catch up.

It took one step towards the music, then another, each one bringing it deeper into the flowing pattern of notes that moved like yarn being gently pulled in all directions.

It moved from the crest of the hill, and a few moments later Ganymede dragged himself up in its place, groaned at his own misfortune, then dragged himself after.

Hermes dashed through the open doors of the Temple of Zeus, his lyre singing, wheeling to a stop only for a moment in front of the mighty statue that rose with pride in its very centre.

Without the brackets lit, without the glow of the fire, the statue's dark eyes loomed with cold threat and tyrannical rigidity - a calculating, disinterested, dull and inert sort of tyranny that seemed awfully far from the warm if overbearing boisterousness of his dearest friend. This whole building spooked him with its uncompromising demand, even the animal-sized offering bowl gaping open, hungry and selfish between its stone feet. He strummed the strings, the floor shook with hoofbeats, and he zipped up to perch on the statue's shoulder. Between bars, he gave the head a polite knock with his knuckles.

"Hey, uh, I hate to wake you, but we've got a bit of a delicate situation here." His fingers continued skittering up and down the frets, filling the Temple of Zeus with the sugary sound of jazz-lute.

Ganymede stumbled to a halt when, breaking through the thicket, he stumbled into the view of the temple. He recoiled with an instant lurch of disgust. The music floating through the open doors, bashfully coy and flat to his ears, only repulsed him further. However, the hulking silhouette of the Minotaur sniffed at the doorway and stepped inside.


"Where's that stupid kid?!" Hades snapped as he entered the throne room. "One tantrum and, what, now he's in hiding?! I'm not running a hotel, here!"

Claws skittering over stone, Panic pulled up alongside. "Heyyy, who needs him?" he said with a big, helpful grin.

"Yeah!" said Pain. "He's always been a no-good freeloader!" They trotted around him, frantic and pacifying, as they tried to mind the flames licking up his robes.

"Ohh... I don't know," Hades summoned his throne and drew himself down into it. Both of them froze. "It's kinda nice having *one* minion," his teeth gritted, flames jumping from his shoulders, "who occasionally manages to pull off one thing I ask of him!" His shout rang from the walls and the two imps threw themselves down at his feet.

"Forgive us!"

"We're sorry!"

Hades flicked his fingers. "Ah, enough of the theatrics. You-" He tapped a claw in Pain's direction. "Go find out where our little soprano is hiding - he can't have gone far." They peeked open their eyes, their tails flicking with a low thrum of curiosity

"You think?"

Hades thumbed to the central table and their eyes followed. The cup still stood there, still glinting like honey in the dim, grey light.

"Hey!" Panic raised his quivering beak. "Imagine forgetting a thing like that!"

"No, you boneheads," Hades sighed, though his anger had bubbled down to a low simmer. "Give the guy some credit - he knows this is the best gig he's got. Trust me, he's just off moping somewhere until he comes up with a new scam."

"Really?" said Pain.

"Obviously!" He threw his hands into the air. "And when he finally comes back grovelling for mercy, I'm tossing him straight out the back door!" The imps exchanged a doubtful glance, before Pain shrugged, pulled himself to his feet, and waddled out of the throne room.

"There's just one problem, however..." Hades continued. Panic turned back, his spines lifting in concern. The god of the dead rolled up his sleeves and, with a showman's flair of the wrist, reached for the cup.

A whip of blue flame lashed from the surface and snapped for his hand. Withdrawing and shaking the sting from his fingers, he explained, "The little jerk made a deal, remember? I don't get to actually keep hold of the thing until we re-discuss his contract."

"And why..." Again, Panic winced through his question, "Didn't you do that earlier?"

Hades waved him off, "Artificial scarcity. Show of control. It's business negotiation, it's over your head."

"Uh-huh." Cynicism tainted Panic's voice again before he chirped, "Well! It's great you've made a friend!"

"Oh shut up." Hades crushed his cheek against his fist, slumping against the arm of his throne. They both perked up in alarm as Pain came charging back into the room screaming at the top of his lungs.

"Woah, woah, hey!" Hades snapped, "Calm down! Where's the fire?!"

"The Minotaur's gone!"

Hades face dropped to a snarl as the whole room fell dark. "Oh..." he gave a dangerous laugh. "Oh, I'm gonna kill him."