Prometheus’s breath was so shallow she could barely see it in front of his mangled lips. The skin on her palms began to itch, and a longing ache spread up her arms. It was there, it was so close, the ecstasy, she could have it again.
Do it,said the voice.Take his life-threads. He’s dying anyway.
She shoved her hands into the snow. The shock of the cold brought her back to her senses.
“Where is my sister?”
Prometheus’s eyelids began to flutter.
“No!” She launched forward and grabbed his furs. “My sister is dead. If she’s not in the Underworld, where is her soul?”
“I...don’t...”
“Prometheus!” She shook him so hard his jaws clattered together. But when she let go, she could no longer feel his life-threads. He was gone.
She dropped the lifeless body of the Titan and screamed into the sky.
Danae sat on the highest peak of the tallest mountain at the end of the world, staring at the rock where Prometheus had been chained. She didn’t know how long she’d been there. She didn’t care.
You must leave,said the voice.They will return.
She did not move.
Seek out Metis, as Prometheus said.
She laughed. Her throat burned but she couldn’t stop. The mountain echoed the sound back as though it were mocking her. Everything she’d done, everything she’d sacrificed had been for nothing. The gods would never stop hunting her. She could never go home.
Every time she tried to entertain the possibility that Prometheus’s claims could be true, she felt like she was falling again. Her sister had to be in the Underworld. All the dead went there. If there was no afterlife, then what happened to every mortal soul after death?
Anger shook her body. She’d battled to the ends of earth. She’d lied, manipulated and abandoned her friends, all to be told things that could not possibly be true.
But you have powers just like the gods.
She raked her hands over her face. She wished she could block out the voice, but it invaded every crevice in her mind.
Yes, the Twelve had lied and exaggerated the scope of their powers to keep mortals in line, but how could she and they be the same? They had existed since the dawn of time. They were immortal and...
Her gaze slid to Prometheus’s body.
Immortal but not invulnerable.
So the gods could be killed, just like mortals.
Something snorted behind her. She turned and saw the winged horse that had escaped the fallen chariot sniffing her bag. It gave the strap an exploratory nibble, then picked it up in its mouth and tossed it toward her. It hit her in the legs.
She stared at it for a moment, then leaned forward and undid the fastening. She slipped her hand inside, drew out the crumbled remains of the last biscuit and held it out on her palm. The horse lowered its muzzle and munched. The sensation of its teeth nipping through her glove was strangely comforting.
She raised her other hand and stroked its neck.
“What do I do now?”
The horse whinnied and flexed its wings.
With great effort, she pushed herself to her feet, slung her bag across her chest and rested her head against the creature’s neck. It was good to touch something warm, something alive.
She didn’t know what was real anymore and she’d lost too many life-threads to ask questions of the omphalos shard. The only thing she could count on was what she could see in front of her.
She raised a hand and grasped hold of the horse’s mane. It didn’t back away as she’d expected but lowered its front legs so she could climb on. She was grateful, she didn’t know if she’d have the strength to heave herself onto its back.
