“Nyx killed Persephone?” Tisiphone hissed along with her three snakes. “You're damn straight I'm going!” She released the snakes, and they slid up her arms to curl about her neck. “Come on, my babies,” she said to them, “let's get us a bite of murderess flesh.”
“Graphic,” I murmured.
Tisiphone joined the army; finding a place among the throngs of gods who wanted justice for Persephone. I wished Sephy could have seen this; it was a violent, yet touching, testament to how deeply she'd been loved. Persephone would have been proud and most likely moved to tears.
“You have the power of speech now,” Azrael said to me as we began our trek through Tartarus.
I glanced around me at the vast landscape and the varied punishments being carried out within it. There was a red cast to everything; possibly due to the flaming river of blood flowing through the center of Tartarus. Yes; blood that was burning. It was hot, humid, and just plain horrible. I couldn't imagine why anyone would want to live there.
“I've always had the power of speech,” I said to Az.
“You know what I mean.” Azrael chuckled. “You should try it out before we reach your enemies.”
“Ourenemies,” I reminded him, “and what's with all the practice; first you want me to fly and now you want me to talk. I feel like a toddler.”
“You have new magic and you're marching to war,” Azrael pointed out. “Being prepared is not childish.”
“He has a point, Vervain,” Odin said.
“Okay; what do you suggest?” I asked Azrael.
“Try speaking a word with intent,” he said.
“Like;water?” I drew the word out and thought about a geyser as I said it.
To the left of us, water spurted out of the ground, and I gaped at it as Odin made a surprised sound. Before I could say anything, a man came running out of the darkness; shrieking with happiness. He stuck his face directly into the geyser as he opened his mouth.
“Tantalus, you idiot, that's not going to work,” a Greek goddess who was dressed like a Goth teenager shouted at the man.
I scowled at her lack of sympathy, but it looked as if she were right. The man—Tantalus, evidently—fell back onto the ground and started weeping with despair.
“Told you,” the Goth said as she shook her head. She caught me looking at her and added, “His punishment is eternal thirst and hunger; he can drink the water, but it will never satisfy him.”
“I'm having the oddest feeling of deja vu,” I murmured.
“You know what? Me too,” the goddess said as she scowled at the crying Tantalus.
“Perhaps you can try the word 'dry' now,” Azrael suggested.
“Oh! Yeah; okay.” I focused on the geyser going away and said, “Dry.”
The water disappeared.
“That's an impressive talent,” Odin noted. “We may not even need the hourglass.”
“You think I could just tell Aion to freeze?” I asked.
“Unfortunately, you can't control anything with free will,” Azrael said. “And you can't create life, either. Still, the magic is powerful. This god may control time, but it sounds as if he's otherwise defenseless. You could freeze him in a literal way; by manifesting ice around him.”
“That's brilliant.” I gaped at him.
“I've seen Gabriel fight.” Azrael shrugged.
“Oh, no,” I whispered. “Were you two friends?”
Azrael made a surprised bark of laughter. “Hardly. Gabriel was a supreme asshole. Don't worry, Carus, his death didn't bother me. I would have been far more upset by yours.”
“What does 'Carus' mean?” I asked him.
