As Hermes had guessed, the boat was in fact sinking. And rather rapidly. "We're in trouble," Morpheus said, forcing himself to remain calm.

Hermes stood frozen, his umber eyes wide in panic. The water would soon be in the boat. Thank goodness that they could both fly. "Use the stupid sandals!" Morpheus yelled, hoping to break Hermes out of his daze as he launched himself in the air.

On his way up, he grabbed Hermes's arm, pulling him into the air with him. He strained to keep them both in the air, feeling his grip on Hermes slipping. "Use your sandals!" he roared again.

Finally, Morpheus's voice cut through Hermes's mental fog. The wings on his sandals flapped, and Hermes was supporting himself. Morpheus released him, his own wings exhausted from the effort. He might have been able to support a girl with them, but Hermes? Never.

They somehow managed to make it to shore. Morpheus collapsed on the sand, his wings falling down at his sides. The wings on Hermes's sandals drooped down as he gasped for breath. The first words out of his mouth were, "Probably not?"

Morpheus shrugged, grinning a little. "I've been wrong before. Since when did you ever listen to me?"

Hermes made a face at him. "That's not funny. We almost died. We were over the River Styx!"

"Well, that wouldn't have been death," Morpheus disagreed. "Just the entrapment of our souls for all eternity, and, really, what's going to happen to us if we die anyway. So, I'd advise against dying."

"Good advice," Hermes said. "Advice I'm keen on following, and what's necessary to do that is to get out of here."

"I can concur with that," Morpheus answered. A door of light appeared in front of them. Suffice to say that neither of them had ever been so happy to leave the Underworld before.

A little while later, they sat in Morpheus's home at the back of his temple, in the multiple-bed front room. Hermes had taken off his sandals, absently stroking the tired wings on them. "You've made yourself a powerful enemy," he commented. "What do you plan on doing about it?"

"Trying to stay alive," Morpheus said, shrugging. He'd replaced his black cloak to cover his wings. "Beyond that? I'm not certain. I'm not sure how one is supposed to survive attacks from a major god?"

"No idea," Hermes said. "I'm a young god, remember? You know, 'son of Zeus'? The person to ask would probably be one of the original six. Hera, or Demeter, or Poseidon. Zeus would probably say you were a lunatic and of course Hades is the sixth."

"He probably wouldn't give me a straight answer, that's for certain," Morpheus agreed. He sighed, leaning his head back against the wall. "I'm doomed."

"Don't say that," Hermes scolded. "Sleep on it. I'll see if I can get Apollo to give us a prophecy or something. It could be of use."

"If the prophecy tells me I'm going to die," Morpheus said, "don't tell me about it."

"I'm sure it won't." Hermes's voice failed to carry the assurance his words did. "I'll see you in the morning, Morpheus."

Morpheus gave him a vague wave as Hermes went out the door.

It didn't take much longer for Morpheus to fall asleep. As usual, though, while his body slept, his mind entered the world of dreams.

One would have thought that would be interesting, but more often than not it was frightening. It was astonishing what the mortal mind could invent. And sadly, most of the dreams they wanted to be rid of were either dreams of people they wished to forget, or nightmares.

The only dream Morpheus dreamed for himself was a recurring one; a blonde girl, her blue eyes as clear as his own, staring at him in horror. He didn't know who she was, or why she would look so... upset. Like he'd betrayed her. How could he betray someone he didn't even know?

That dream was not to be dreamt that night. The instant he fell asleep, his mind connected to a young woman, slipping through the shadows. In the realm of dreams, he had no emotional quality. He couldn't determine the woman's identity, but he decided to delve deeper into her mind. It was odd—she wasn't dreaming. He was dreaming what was going to happen to her...

. . . . . . . . .

Adelaide's sandals slapped against the stones, her normally-perfect hair streaming out behind her. What if something had happened to him? She would never forgive herself if something had happened while she was doing Hades's dirty work for him! She would kill the god of death if anything had happened to... to him.

Adelaide ended up tossing aside stealth for speed. Her nerves were on edge, and she couldn't imagine what would happen if something were to happen to him. The need to hurry ended up being Adelaide's downfall. A hand shot out of an alleyway she was passing and grabbed her wrist, yanking her inside. She opened her mouth to yell for help, but a second hand slapped over her mouth, cutting off her ability to speak. "Well, sweetheart," he whispered in her ear, "I'll show you what we do to cronies of Hades."

. . . . . . . . .

Morpheus's eyes flew open. For a moment, he tried to remember the reasoning behind his rude awakening. Then his mind cleared and he remembered that girl's infuriating habit of smiling without her lips even moving. She had delivered the message for Hades. It was possible that she knew more about the situation than she was letting on, and if she did, then he would rescue her and extract whatever information he could from her.

Grabbing his one black cloak with holes in it for his massive wings, Morpheus ran through the temple, his boots slapping against the floor. The people spread out in the temple sleeping stirred but didn't wake as he bolted outside.

Once in the streets, Morpheus spread his wings and took flight. It was much easier without having to drag Hermes around. Rising into the sky, he scanned the streets, his knowledge of Athens showing him where Adelaide was. He spotted the alley from his dream and dove towards it.

Landing softly behind Adelaide and her captor, he quickly assessed the situation. The man had Adelaide backed against the wall of the dead-end alley, his sword pressed against her throat. Oddly, in spite of her horrible situation, there was no fear in her eyes; rather, there was simply disgust and possibly even amusement. She really was an odd bird, Morpheus thought. He reached for his own sword but stopped. Provoking the man might make him kill her before turning on him.

He spread his arms out, his wings following the movement. Light from the torches lining the streets behind them illuminated his massive shadow against the wall, and the man turned, his sword falling from Adelaide's throat. She moved away from him; amused or not, Morpheus knew she would try to stay out of reach of that sword.

The man fell to his knees. "O merciful one, have mercy!" he pleaded. Morpheus allowed himself a thin smile, concealed in the hood of his cloak. Apparently his reputation preceded him. His amusement was dashed when the man went on, "O wise Thanatos, do not take me to the Underworld!"

Really? He thinks I'm Thanatos? Morpheus gritted his teeth, but reminded himself that he was trying to save Adelaide's life. Still, he hated being mistaken for his uncle. "I am not Thanatos. I am Morpheus."

The fear quickly left the man's eyes, and he lunged at Morpheus. Sighing to himself, he sidestepped the man's clumsy stab and grabbed his wrist, flinging him against the building. The man went to scramble to his feet, but Morpheus was faster. He lunged and brushed the tips of his fingers against his foe's forehead. Instantly, the would-be killer started snoring like he'd been asleep for hours.

"Impressive." Morpheus turned; he'd almost forgotten about Adelaide. Her bare arms were crossed over her chest, and he saw black bracelets around the top of her arm. They were made of obsidian. The bracelets of Hades. "I suppose I owe you a 'thank you'. So... thank you."

"My pleasure," Morpheus said. "Might I walk you home? Your jewelry might invite more trouble."

Adelaide glanced at her arm, as if she had forgotten they were there. "I can make it home myself," she said.

"You wouldn't have, if it weren't for me."

Sighing, Adelaide nodded. "Fair enough. I suppose you can walk me home, though I don't think any more trouble will come to me."

Wondering how she could be so sure, Morpheus allowed her to leave the alleyway first. He trailed after her, astonished that such a short-legged girl could move so quickly. Determined not to allow her to leave him behind, he lengthened his strides. She glanced at him, as if annoyed that he was still there. "Where did you get the wings?"

"I've always had them," Morpheus answered. "My uncle Thanatos's fault, I suppose."

"You have no idea how strange it is to hear you refer to a god my family has worshipped as your uncle," Adelaide commented. "It almost makes you seem ... mortal."

"I'm only too aware of the gods' mortality, Adelaide. Trust me; we are not immortals," he said.

Adelaide raised an eyebrow. "Do you?" she said. "What sort of experience have you had with that?"

That was not a conversation Morpheus wanted to get into. He chose to walk several steps ahead of her, and she scrambled to keep up with him before fixing him with that odd smiling-without-smiling face once again. "Apparently a touchy subject," she commented. He glared at her, and Adelaide finally smiled a true smile. "Alright, fine. I'm sorry for prying, alright? So stop making that angry face. It doesn't suit you."

Why was everyone so concerned with what suited him? First Hermes, now Adelaide. Why couldn't people just leave him alone? "Are we almost to your house?" he asked, by way of answer to her apology.

Adelaide made a face. "Yes, we're close," she said. "Though I would remind you that it was your idea to walk me home in the first place."

Morpheus stopped her, bending down to look right into her eyes. "Adelaide, I know you serve Hades," he said. "But do you know that Hades plans to destroy the gods—myself included—and take over rule of Mount Olympus himself?"

Adelaide shrugged. "Why should I care about the petty arguments of the gods? It's not like you've ever done anything for me."

"I just saved your life, you ungrateful child," Morpheus said.

"If you're going to lord it over me for the rest of my life, then I wish you hadn't," Adelaide retorted. "And anyway, that gives you no right to my private business."

"Private business?" Morpheus repeated, his voice rising in pitch for a moment. "How is it private business if Hades is going to kill me?"

For a moment, Adelaide's face remained inscrutable. Then it softened. "Alright," she said. "I know nothing of Hades's plan. I simply do as he tells me."

"Why?"

"I'll tell you," she said, "if you tell me how you know the gods aren't immortal."

Morpheus shook his head, and Adelaide's little smile returned. "See? We both have our secrets. That's my house. Thank you for saving me," she added. She kissed his cheek before turning and disappearing into one of the many houses lining the street.

Morpheus stared after her, a peculiar tingling sensation crawling on his skin where she had kissed him. After a moment, he realized he was blushing and quickly turned his back on her. "Mortals are so strange," he mumbled, and started making his way back through the streets towards his own home.