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Claudia gaped at them feebly, bile rising in her throat again.

The enormity of it hit her at last, all at once, like being knocked down by a wild, runaway horse. Those feelings that had been muted and repressed suddenly came to the forefront in a wave. She stared at her hands – her pale, cold hands – no longer full of life, full of blood.

‘I was poisoned,’ she remembered. ‘By General Aquinas.’

‘It’s a popular way to die these days,’ said Invidia.

Gia’s face hit her like a landslide, dragging her under. She would never touch her face, or feel their lips meet again. She would never hear her voice, her laughter, the warmth of her hand in hers…

‘Gia.’

Claudia gave a strangled little sob, her throat aching.

‘No, no, no. I must go back. Please, goddesses, you must help me. I cannot be dead. This can’t be happening.’

She clutched at their robes but they were immaterial, made of thin white smoke that slipped through her fingers.

‘First of all, you need to calm down,’ tutted Invidia. ‘You can’t do anything now. It’s too late. Death is irreversible.’

‘That’s not true. It cannot be. I have heard of people returning before, in mythology,’ said Claudia, speaking quickly and with increasing desperation. ‘There are tales of Orpheus, Hercules, Proserpina herself. Surely, there must be a way? I will try anything.’

‘You think you’re that important?’ said Invidia.

‘It didn’t work out so well, much of the time,’ said Discordia.

‘Help me and I will pray to you. I will venerate you. I will build your statues in the palace. I will start a cult and name it after you. Anything you want, I will do it,’ said Claudia. ‘I can do it, because I am the empress. I have that power, so long as I live. Then you will never be forgotten.’

They looked to each other, intrigued.

‘What do you think, sister?’ said Discordia.

‘She is full of it,’ said Invidia. ‘Just like every other mortal.’

‘I swear it,’ said Claudia. ‘You have my word. I am used to making negotiations and agreeing terms. That is what I do. Just tell me what your demands are, and I will do everything to fulfil them.’

‘We’d want our own temples, for one thing,’ said Discordia, raising a finger, ‘and statues that would be most flattering.’

‘I would like an apology from Venus,’ huffed Invidia. ‘She said some not so pleasant things about me, back in the last millennium.’

‘Sure, whatever you want.’

‘I don’t know. We’re not really helper deities,’ said Invidia. ‘We mostly just cause chaos and strife. We get mad and we get revenge.’

‘Then help me with that,’ Claudia said. ‘I want revenge, on the man who poisoned me.’

‘There are plenty of terrible men. I could throw a stone over my shoulder and hit one of them. What’s so special about this one?’

‘If you know who I am, then you will know what I have done,’ said Claudia. ‘I killed my father and my brother, so they wouldn’t reign in terror. I did that for the goddesses. They enabled me to do so.’

‘It is just as we heard,’ said Invidia, looking to her sister. ‘I thought those gorgons were merely exaggerating.’

‘I have lived through many labours to claim that throne. I have sacrificed everything. I will not let some… some… fascist, geriatric, corpse-eyed, Jupiter-kissing warlord take it from me now.’

‘She is speaking of General Aquinas,’ said Discordia.

‘Yes, sister. I gathered that.’

‘Yes, him! Aquin-asshole! He tried to kill me, tried to frame another man for it, tried to make me marry my cousin. He killed the consul. He poisoned me, attacked my friends and captured my lover.’