Furious

Chapter Twenty-Four

The leftover questions I had evaporated with the Fates. Poof: the three of them melted into each other and were gone, their bodies sucked into the middle, like a vacuum hose had been hiding behind them the whole time.

I had to do something about the mantle; and I had to figure out the rest of the story. Not even I believed that they were working for humanity's own good—or the gods, for that matter.

Fate had gone rogue just before disappearing for who know how long while Atropos died, grew up, and came into her powers.

It wasn't Zeus against Hades; it wasn't even about the Nectar. This war was about continued existence, survival, eternity. And ironically every single one of the gods had to die to be reborn. How many were there? How many had to die?

I was alone with my thoughts and the world's largest tome of Greek mythology.

Once more the book weighed down my lap, settling in for the long run.

Chapter One: The Beginning.

I took a break after chapter one. As soon as I snuggled into the couch to begin Chapter Two: Lineage of the Gods, Hector burst through the portal again.

Maybe "burst" is too strong a word. He emerged one foot at a time, just like always, but brought with him a serious storm cloud of bad energy. Something must have upset him big time.

Couldn't have been me...

"There are rules in place for dealing with myths so old as the Fates for a reason. They do not come at your beck and call; you answer theirs. That's the way it has worked since the beginning of time! For decades I have been at their whim; how did you even get them here?"

Well, hello to you too, grumpy gills.

Hector didn't look tired anymore—he was just a ball of anger with a pretty face. The room actually lit up behind him, as if a wall of pure, invisible heat had formed in the empty space. For the second time I truly feared my captor.

But I tried to play it cool.

"Relax—the Fates showed up of their own volition and we just had a conversation. No blood was shed in the making of this tête-à-tête. They told me that I'm not specifically important but that the Fury who will take over me is—fingers crossed—important, and that you're pretty important and that this whole damn war is important. Basically they told me what you should have when you brought me here. And besides—" I added, remembering something they'd said about Lindsay, "—they know Lindsay. I was probably a welcome distraction compared to her. I'm not nearly as crude as she is."

I wasn't lying, the Fates were much more open to answering questions than Hector or anyone else had been. And Hector had had numerous occasions to spell it out for me. I might have been more cooperative had he filled me in on the plan, prophecy and all.

We could have avoided the Fates' presence at all if he had bothered to hold a ten minute Q&A.

But then I would not have the mantle of Hades—the tiny replica of an iron-wrought helmet, like a prop from a very small movie—which I dutifully hid between the pages of Dracula and Hector might never get them, even after the Nectar was found.

"Lindsay was a mistake. She turned out more stubborn than I could have imagined; somehow, she managed to call the Fates on her own—an error which had her thrown in my dungeon. If you would stop comparing yourself to her for an instant you would realize that you are the more powerful Fury, by far.