GODS PLAYED WITH REALITY like it was a toy. Alex hated it. Hecate was no different. With a rush of cold air and deepening shadows, he watched Ophelia and her mother disappear from sight even as Persephone turned away to speak to Nico.

"Well, then," she said. Persephone shifted where she stood, her green dress rustling as she took another long drink of her wine goblet. "Nico, show these two around. I'll go speak with my husband."

Alex barely had time to register what she said before the shadows bent again and she disappeared into the aether. Silence fell beneath the veranda of Persephone's palace in her gardens. Above them, Nico leaned over the edge. 

As with every time he met Nico, the boy said little and watched everything. Alex turned from him to look at Kitty. He stuffed down his anger as he saw her standing silent, gripping the Lyre of Orpheus to her chest like it would disappear at a moment's notice. 

All around them towered crystal and obsidian trees, chaotic rows of poppies and jeweled roses. An ambient, silver light provided a respite from the oppressive darkness of the parts of the Underworld they'd traveled in thus far. The air, damp and still, suppressed all noise but a nearby babbling brook. If it hadn't been for the aching of his heart, he may have found it peaceful.

"You shouldn't be here," Nico said. He frowned. "Come on."

Alex turned back to him. The son of Hades stared down at them with those eyes which shone with wisdom of one far older than the child they belonged to. In the Underworld, Nico's skin paled even further than in the world above, dark hair black against his skin. 

He didn't dislike Nico. He just didn't know him. And anyone Alex didn't know, he didn't trust. The boy seemed far too knowledgeable about topics that didn't concern him. 

Stairs ascended in a curve up to the dark terrace. Alex went first, not sparing Kitty another glance as his stomach twisted and he clenched his fists. He had a job to do. He would have time to yell at her later.

With each step up into Persephone's palace-like retreat, Alex focused on his job. Step one was to regroup with Ophelia. Step two would be to talk to Hades. Alex doubted the god would be much help, but it would be worth a try. If he'd learned anything in his time since Kronos's army it was that the gods often worked in ways he'd never expect. Hermes's help when he killed the cyclops certainly showed that. Maybe Hades would help them on the quest just to spite his brother.

Reaching the top step, Alex took a deep breath of the cool Underworld air and scoped out the room. It was a mostly open space. Two thrones overlooked the garden and the Fields of Asphodel they had just left, one silver and one bone. Beyond them, further into the black and silver space that glowed with ambient light sat a table down the center of the room. Nico stood next to it. A bowl of pomegranates acted as a centerpiece.

"Being here is a bad idea," Nico said. He didn't come closer, just shook his head as he looked past Nico to Kitty as she finally reached the top. "The Underworld isn't a place for any of you."

"We're not here by choice, Nico," Alex said. "I thought our quest would be prime time entertainment for the gods."

Nico shrugged. "I don't watch Hephaestus TV. Apollo's Haiku ad breaks keep me away."

"Now that I understand," Kitty said. She moved past Alex, careful not to brush sleeves with him. 

"That's the Lyre of Orpheus?" Nico said.

As Kitty confirmed it, Alex watched Nico. His eyes flitted back and forth between them and the Lyre repeatedly, almost unwittingly. 

"Orpheus could've brought her back," he said.

"Yeah, well. He didn't," Kitty said. "But we'll get out alive."

Goosebumps ran down his arm as he watched Nico focus on the Lyre. He'd heard the stories. Gossip traveled at the speed of light even amongst monsters, but especially in traitor half bloods. Luke's demigods talked about the son of Hades, the boy out of time, and his search to bring his sister back. 

Alex knew guilt. He still saw his mom's crushed bike frame when he closed his eyes at night. Even if Ophelia had convinced him that they had to focus only on the demigods of Kronos, he wished he could turn back time and reverse that day.

But he couldn't. His mom was dead, somewhere amongst the souls of the Underworld. Alex had no power over their souls. But he did have power over some of the living. 

"What are you going to do now?" Nico said.

Alex glanced up, pulled out of his thoughts. He ran a hand over Vindication, massaging the smooth metal and tracing each little feather of each wing. "We're going to leave, and I'm going to take the Lyre to Olympus."

Nico nodded. He spared another glance for the Lyre before gesturing back further into the small palace. "Come on."

"I'm going anywhere further without Ophelia," he said.

Nico shrugged. "They'll be back soon."

"So, like, are Hecate and Persephone friends?" Kitty said.

"Yeah. I guess." Nico moved to the side of the large terrace hall. "She guided Demeter to Persephone back when Hades first took her to the Underworld."

"Kidnapped her," Kitty said.

"Yeah."

"Great."

He just let out a silent sigh, staring into a fountain made of shadows. "Well, they hang out. Usually here. I don't spend time with them very often but they knew you were coming."

Before Alex could say anything, Nico straightened up. It looked almost as if he'd been called, but Alex hadn't heard anything. Instead he walked back to the terrace overhang. He peeked down over the edge in silence. 

Footsteps sounded on the stairs. As Alex turned, he forced a small smile and sighed with relief as Ophelia came up over the top. She turned away from Nico towards Alex. Blue and gold eyes hard, skin pale but full of life, Alex nodded.

"The clock's ticking. We've got work to do," she said. "Come on."

She was right. They had to complete step two now, an audience with Hades.

"Nico, can you take us to your father?" Alex said.

He nodded. Without another word, he turned and started down an open bridge towards a massive black castle or temple, some kind of palace, not far away. That had to belong to Hades. Nico looked back twice. Both times he avoided Alex's gaze, looking between the Lyre and Ophelia without a word.

Alex shivered as they passed over a massive white river, a single shiver ran down his spine. Lethe, the waters of oblivion. It flowed across the entire Underworld. He moved closer to the center of the dark stone bridge.

Another shudder ran down his body as they approached the entrance at the other end of the bridge. On either side of the black pillared entrance stood skeletal warriors dressed in rags. An unmistakable Screaming Eagle patch still intact on the shoulder made Alex pause. World War Two paratroopers. He supposed guarding Hades' Palace for eternity was a better and more secure job than wandering the Fields of Asphodel. They raised up their black spears straight as Nico passed between them.

The Greek architecture reminded him of Olympus. But instead of glorious white reminiscent of the clouds that surrounded Olympus, this palace had only black stone and dark bronze accents. At each pillar stood a skeleton soldier. Legionnaires served beside Redcoats, Confederate grunts beside World War One infantry. None spoke. They only parted when Nico approached. 

He wondered if they would've done the same for Ophelia had she not lingered in the back. If Alex didn't know her better, he would've said she was brooding. He'd rarely seen anger on her. But she carried it in her crossed arms, tight shoulders, and deep set frown. Whatever Hecate had said must've been bad.

They passed a hall on the left that Alex could've sworn had been crafted of pure gold. Tables set with fruits and meats, he almost asked Nico to stop. But he knew the stories. He knew that partaking of the foods of the Underworld meant staying there forever. They couldn't do that. No matter how enticing the hospitality was.

The hallway opened up after a black colonnade reminiscent of Mount Olympus. Magic must've wreathed this place, for the throne room rose higher than Alex thought possible from what he'd seen outside. Two thrones, as large as those on the throne room of Olympus, sat at the center. One had been constructed of bone and jewel. The other had wreaths of flowers. Both sat occupied. 

Hades wore his crown. Alex knew as soon as they stepped in the room because his body temperature dropped like a stone and his hands began to shake of their own accord. Black robes spilled down even to his feet to obscure most of his heavy black plate armor. To his left, Persephone still wore her green dress. As she shuffled in her throne, the flowers moved and swayed with some unknown wind.

"Alex Griffith, son of Hermes. You come to my hall uninvited," Hades said. "But my son and my wife have asked me to allow it. And so here you are."

Alex forced his hands to settle. He pushed beyond the fear Hades crown inspired, moving to stand closer to the thrones. He ignored the way bones rattled and the shadows seemed to move with every word that Hades spoke. He forced himself to remember the golden red campfire in Camp Half-Blood, the way Hestia's hearth had warmed him on Olympus. He had a job.

"Lord Hades," he began, looking him in the eyes, "we come to your realm accidentally."

"That much is obvious," Hades said. He looked past Alex to Kitty and Ophelia. "I certainly don't want that Lyre."

"No. Lord Zeus does." The formal title left a nasty taste in his mouth, but Alex focused on the job. "We ask. I ask," he said, "that you allow us passage back to the living so we may complete our quest."

Hades scoffed under his breath. Where he'd been lounging nonchalant he now sat up straight. The bones on his throne groaned at the movement. "You certainly speak with a sweeter tongue in my halls than you did on Olympus. I wonder why that is."

Alex tried not to bare his teeth. What more did this god want? Supplication? He hadn't bowed to Zeus, king of the gods, and he wouldn't bow to Hades, king of the dead. But even as he felt his fists tightening, he remembered the sickly green smoke and tritone words of the Oracle. "A choice born of wrath he must unlearn." Alex had made many choices in wrath. He wondered which she had meant. 

He bit his cheek. With the memory of his celestial bronze arrow piercing the heart of the empousa and the sky split with thunder, he let himself drop to a knee. He had a job to do. The hard dark stone floor hurt his knee but not more than it hurt his pride.

"Please. Allow us to leave."

A hand grabbed his shoulder. Alex looked up. Ophelia stood beside him, fingers tight as she pulled him to his feet. Shadows behind them swarmed around her and the air grew even colder. She didn't speak. Her eyes stayed on Hades.

He stayed silent. Then he shook his head, gesturing forward to them lazily. "I have a reputation to maintain, boy. And even if I wanted to aid you, my brother has forbidden it." He pointed up. "I've only now been given a seat among my brothers. Why would I risk that for the likes of you? And you think I want that Lyre to get back to Apollo? That's the last thing any of us want."

"Then we're to wander your realm for eternity?" Ophelia said. "Not dead and yet no longer alive?'

"I don't make the rules." He paused. "Well, I suppose I do."

Alex's hands began to sting from how tightly he held his fists closed. But before he could say anything, Persephone stood from her throne. She took a few steps towards them.

"Hades—"

"This quest will succeed or fail on their own merit. I will gain nothing by helping," Hades said. "Find your own way out of my realm, boy. Then you will have deeds to be counted among the heroes of old. Or don't."

"We will," Ophelia said. She took three steps forward to stand parallel with Persephone, unafraid. "We are not afraid."

"Neither was Eurdyice," he said.

The room fell silent. Even the bones froze. Alex could've sworn the darkness grew even darker. After several heartbeats, Ophelia turned her back on the gods. Alex shivered as she grabbed his hand and started back down the hall, Kitty following. Nico watched them go.

They would find their own way out, then. Alex took a deep breath. They would do it themselves.

As they came to an exit, Ophelia guiding them somehow, as if attuned to the shadows, a small snap and shifting of shadows blocked their path. Three steps down stood Persephone, frowning. 

"There's a way out that you may be able to use," she said. Tears filled her eyes as she stared at the Lyre for a moment, lost in memory. Then she looked back up at them. "Find the Door of Orpheus. It is beyond the Wall beside the River Styx."

Alex took a deep breath. The goddess before him had flushed, damp cheeks. He wondered how beautiful Orpheus's music must've been to bring her to tears thousands of years later.

"Thank you," Kitty said.

Alex nodded. He ran a hand over Vindication. At least they had a direction. Back through the Fields of Asphodel. He had no idea of the date, nor if time passes normally in the Underworld. But all they could do was move forward.

Persephone smiled. She looked between them and nodded. "Good luck, heroes."

Alex offered his hand. For a moment Persephone just looked at it. Then she smiled. It brightened everything, even his heart. As the shadows receded, she took his hand. Her warmth reminded him of Hestia's but brighter, stronger, younger. 

"Let's go." Ophelia took his other hand. She led them forward. "We have work to do."

Alex let go of the goddess. She offered him one last smile. He turned towards the dark Underworld before them. They had work to do. They had children to save. He took a deep breath and ignored the cold settling into his veins from Ophelia's grip. They had to get home.