Hope Springs Eternal [2/19]

[omega_tau_pi_verse]

Hope Springs Eternal
Chapter 2: Demons & Witches & Fates, Oh My!

In which Hades is approached by a vile seductress (who he'd totally do, if she didn't annoy him), and the Fates give him a little TMI with a chaser of WTF in the form of The Big Prophecy. [contains singing]

 

 

Ασυνηθη Υποπτης

It was just another shitty day in the Underworld. Same as the days, weeks, in fact the millennia... well, you know the drill. It was the very same day, if you want to get absolutely technical about it, that Cupid was hatching his plot on Olympus.

In the dismal throne room of the Underworld palace, the imps Pain and Panic (who considered themselves both right- and left-hand to their master, though they could never decide which of them was which) were very busy cleaning up. They were cleaning to try and cheer up the Boss, who was in the weirdest mood either of them had ever witnessed.

It kind of disturbed them, the way he'd been so quiet and withdrawn in recent weeks. He hadn't screamed insanely even once, nor had he threatened to have them chopped up and fed bit by bit to some slavering creature conjured from the darkest depths of hell. They were so accustomed to such ranting that it was a little unnerving not to hear it. In a way, they missed it. So they'd done a lot of trifling busy work to fill the long empty hours, and their nearly empty minds, and to calm their nerves.

They swept and dusted away cobwebs and litter, moved furnishings into place, polished the giant map table in the center of the room, and shoved whatever they couldn't find another place for quickly in a closet no one had ventured to look deeply into for centuries. Once they had accomplished this task to their satisfaction, they scurried to stand alert before Hades' throne, saluting smartly.

"There ya go, Boss! All tided up!" Panic, the wiry teal imp chirped.

"As tidy as it'll ever get anyway," Pain, the rotund magenta imp chimed in. "We even picked up all those little pawns from your 'Conquer the Cosmos' board game." He held aloft a couple of badly charred figures that still vaguely resembled various monsters Hades had called forth to attack Hercules several months ago.

"Everything is in readiness for you to start ruling again!" Panic declared enthusiastically, standing back in a ta-da! pose.

Hades sat silent and immobile in the eternal gloom surrounding his throne, unresponding. He did, however, sigh deeply as a wind from a grave.

The imps looked at each other in worry. Pain asked in his hesitant, always-cracking voice, "Uh, something wrong, your Atrabiliousness?"

Panic spoke as well, finally voicing what they both felt. "You know, you seem different since..." He bit his lip, cautious. "Well, you know what happened."

Hades' voice drifted forth slowly like a trailing ghost. "Everything's different, boys... I've... lost it. It's all gone now... My bloodlust, my craving for omnipotence... Death, doom and destruction just don't have that old siren's call appeal for me anymore..."

Pain and Panic yelped and grabbed onto each other, leathery wings fluttering and long pointed tails twitching in nameless fear.

"Don't talk like that!" Panic quivered.

"You're scaring us!" Pain quaked.

But it was true and they all knew it. Hades had changed. They had to do something...

"Oh, cheer up, Boss," Panic said in as soothing a tone as he could manage, trying to cajole some normality back into the situation. "You can always start working on a fresh plan of attack!"

"No, no..." Hades rumbled in near-monotone, "my last, best chance is gone with the Titans... Might as well just pack it in..." Shifting slightly on his throne, his blue fire hair flickered briefly though it barely cast a light into the shadows surrounding him. He seemed more a part of the darkness than ever, his gray skin blending into the blackness of his flowing himation, his eyes barely open, a dimmed yellow. He felt strangely both more and less aware of things than he'd ever felt. It made no sense, but what did anymore? With a deep shuddering breath, he lifted one long-fingered hand to his aching head. "Life is a mess... Death is a bigger mess... My world is in chaos and for once I don't want it that way... I don't know what the hell to do..."

A stranger's voice, female, smooth as mink fur and brimming with not-so-subtle wickedness, wafted across the room to tickle their ears.

"Perhaps I can help you..."

Pain and Panic jumped half out of their scaly skins in terror. No one was supposed to enter the Underworld unless they had shuffled off their mortal coil or received a royal summons. Unless they were a god themselves. Or sometimes a foolhardy hero-type who didn't seem to understand the rules. Boy, they got a lot of traffic they weren’t supposed to. But still, this woman didn't seem to fit any of the above categories. And Cerberus the guard dog hadn't made a peep.

They had no clue how she'd gotten inside without any alarms being raised, but they wanted Hades to know they were guiltless of this breech of security.

"We didn't let her in, we swear!" they both howled pitifully.

Hades frowned and snapped, "Just shut up, already.”

They skittered aside and hid under the map table in profound gratitude.

Looking back up at the uninvited guest, Hades sensed the otherworldly power she held, knowing this was how she'd gained access to his domain. He also noticed she was quite attractive. Tall, maybe six feet, and thin yet shapely. Her chitonion and chlanidion were all in shades of violet and grey, she held a staff-length torch of mystical fire. Long sleek black hair with twin stripes of purple seemed to flow and move on its own beneath with a silver horned headdress. Her skin was winter and her eyes were moonlight, silver and cold.

Altogether a pretty appealing package, to someone of his dark tastes. And he was never one to pass up a gaze at something lovely after so many centuries in a land of ugliness. A tiny spark of life began to show in his eyes. He cleared his throat, smiling widely to bare all his fangs. "So... who is this beguiling mortal before me?"

The woman smiled in return. "Immortal, actually," she corrected gently.

"Oh, really?" Hades leaned forward with growing interest.

"Oh, yes." She glided closer to his throne. "Countless centuries ago, Zeus granted my family eternal life to repay a favor. I, too, have inherited that immortality. It's been very useful these past nine decades..." Smoothing a hand down her hips, not seeming a day over thirty mortal years, she smirked.

Hearing the hated Z-word was bad enough. But the fact she was indebted to his enemy and grateful for it turned Hades’ fleeting interest to dust. Voice cold and dry as a mausoleum, he said, "Oh... Whoop-dee-freaking-doo for you."

Ignoring his shift in attitude, she curtsied with smooth grace. "Perhaps you know my name… Hecate, Queen of the Night."

The witch’s name was well-known in the Underworld since so many of her victims wound up there soon after encountering her. "Yeah, sounds familiar,” Hades grumbled. “So... how do you think you can possibly help me?"

"Oh, poor Hades," she tsked, "lost your bid for another kingdom, and now you're stuck with this one. Doesn't look like much but we both know it's more than it seems. Why not just forget the outside world and concentrate on what you have here? True, it needs a little fixing up," she waved a hand to the room, which still showed the destruction he'd wreaked after his defeat, "but with a bit of effort, you can have perfection. A kingdom of darkness that will haunt the world for all eternity. And I'm just the witch to make your dreams come true..." There was a sparkle in her pale eyes that chilled even him.

"And what do you think you know about my dreams?"

"Plenty," she purred. "You long for ultimate power, complete control... adoring adulation..."

The words struck a deep chord in him, which he refused to show. Yet she knew anyway.

"Ah, but you merely sought the wrong venue. Stick with what you know best. With what I know best.” She smiled and held her torch higher. “My resume speaks for itself..."

The flames lifted free of the torch, dancing through the air, and turning the colors of the rainbow though darker and more baleful than any ever created by Iris. Then Hecate sang, and the flame became the animated images of her words.

My experience is varied and vast
I've built quite a bad reputation
my talent for evil
I truly believe will
surpass even your expectation
Ocean, wood and field I've haunted
driven sailors overboard with madness
hunters are my prey
I've led shepherds astray
I'm just bursting with netherworld badness

She had been moving slowly, sinuously among the flames, but at this point she thrust out her arms, her cape flickering like fire itself, drawing his attention directly.

It's as clear as the moon
I've got what it takes
the evil you need
to whip this place into shape
I'm Queen of the Night
the witch with a plan
always more than willing
to lend a hurting hand

Grinning wickedly, saucily up his bland expression, she danced more insistently.

Mortals fear me far and wide
statues of me outside every door
a sacrifice a day
keeps Hecate away
at least until night falls once more
Each crossroad a place of cold dread
not a human alive can escape me
death and glory I crave
send them all to their grave
come on Hades, what more do you need?

She approached more boldly now, her face harder and more calculating, but her voice still smooth as velvet.

It's as true as the stars
you need my aid
to restore your world
to the pinnacle of pain
As Queen of the Night
I know all the tricks
I speak your language
know what makes you tick

By then she had reached the throne, and poised herself expectantly before the dark god.

She had evaded the actual point, but her gaze spoke volumes. Hades, even if he'd been blind, could have read that gaze like it was written in Braille.

He arched his brows at her, speaking as dryly as a dead leaf. "Uh-huh, wicked bad naughty evil Hecate, really need a good spanking, don't ya? Blah-blah-blah... Babe, I didn't get where I am without knowing when there's a catch. What is it you really want?"

Smiling very coyly, she leaned forward, her low neckline giving him a tantalizing view of her charms. Placing a cold pale hand on his warm gray arm, she said, "Well, since you asked so nicely..."

I can't hold a torch to your power
you're an awesome god of evil, it's true
but you're so all alone
on that big old throne
you need a queen to rule beside you

She treated him to her most sultry gaze. Her ways had never failed to ensnare any male, mortal or immortal, alive, dead, or somewhere in-between. She was in for a surprise.

Restraining himself from the urge to roll his eyes, he thought, Saw that coming a league away. Then directly to her, smiling at first in an appropriately captivated way, he crooned, "Hey, doll face, what can I say, I'm flattered! Really I am..." Whereupon he removed her hand from his arm and all but tossed it away, yellow eyes flashing yet somehow icy cold. "...But not a snowball's frigging chance, toots. I'm not sharing my throne with anyone. Not now, not ever."

Truthfully, there was once someone he'd have considered... but she was gone forever. And he was now on his seventh century of grieving. Not quite as long a time of self-imposed celibacy, though he'd gone through exceedingly long dry spells during those years of loneliness. And it was true, he was deeply lonely and nothing ever slaked that thirst in his soul, possibly never would. Perhaps on a normal day, in a more normal mood, he might have actually entertained a go at Hecate, this attractive madwoman who was practically screaming 'take me now, big boy!' It certainly wasn't as though he usually had women falling at his feet. Not unless they were already dead.

But he found himself frankly put-off by Hecate’s overconfidence, thinking she could simply seduce him to get what she wanted. Though the idea of quick sex certainly had its appeal, he knew from experience it would only leave him more hollow and dead inside, and that was decidedly not a feeling he craved right now. Even if simple lust had won the results would have remained one-sided: His. He was the one who made the bargains for power, not the other way around. And it might not be a great job he had, but it was it belonged to him alone. No one would dare play pretender to his throne, not so long as there was breath in his body... or whatever it was that kept him going.

And now, seeing her positively shocked expression, he felt strangely vindicated. He mentally patted himself on the back at his restraint, casually waved her away from his presence, and glibly remarked, "Well... thanks for stopping by, your application's on file, we'll be in touch, don't let the door hit your ass on the way out, ta-ta."

She was truly stunned that Hades had resisted her. That had never been done. Anger joined the surprise, as she realized she would have to resort to actually working out a battle plan to meet her ends. She recovered her composure at this utter rebuffing, and said, "Oh... well... let me know if you change your mind." She turned to leave, silently fuming as he continued quipping behind her back.

"I woooon't," he sing-songed, "Good-byyyye."

 

Hecate returned to her own lair suspended in the Netherworld regions of the night. It lay somewhere vaguely between the restless dreams of mortals and the haunted realm of monsters, with its darkest border brushing against the Underworld itself. It was a place no mortal could enter and few immortals cared to. She had built the sub-dimensional area herself, using the blackest spells. The outside was virtually invisible but the inside was fairly cozy and almost normal. She had her privacy and no rent to worry about.

Entering her dark grotto, swearing under her breath, she was greeted by her hellhound demon familiars. Havoc, the male, was albino-white with red glowing eyes, his fur shaggy and long. Mayhem, the female, was black-and-grey, also red-eyed, her fur short and sleek. Both had expansive bat-like wings. They flew down from their perches in the craggy trees to land near their mistress.

"So," said Havoc cheerfully, smiling broadly at the nasty look on the witch's face, "how'd it go?

Hecate snarled, "It didn't, if you must know."

"Should have guessed," Havoc continued lightly, ignoring her mood. "The Underworld is Hades' personal chew-toy. He's not bound to share it easily."

"Besides," Mayhem asked, raising an eyebrow, "we thought you hated him…?"

Hecate screeched, "I DO!” Then more restrained, “It was worth a shot."

The two hellhounds rolled their eyes. They'd heard this before, and it never changed or got better.

Hecate tossed her torch aside to float in the air. She began to pace, trying to work off her anger. "After all this time, all this effort... the Underworld is still the only place mortals can reach that I haven't been able to affect with my powers. And I deserve it! I've worked too hard to stop now!"

Magic ran in her family, all the way back to her great-great-great-something aunt, the powerful sorceress Heket for whom she had been named. The elder had been given immortality, declared a goddess in her Egyptian homeland, and had possessed powers beyond anyone else in the family. When Hecate had been born something stronger was seen in her, and everyone hoped she would carry on the name appropriately. So far she'd failed to live up to the reputation. And it stung.

For years, she'd tried everything. Others in her family had turned to dark magic, and while some like Circe contented themselves with shape-changing or poisons or mind-control, she felt the call to something darker still. The Underworld had become her ultimate fantasy.

And she had done her homework on this, had followed Hades' exploits on the sly for several years. She's seen his single-minded devotion to conquer Olympus, the lengths he’d gone to, to secure his mission and remain unnoticed. He'd been clever enough to impress her. She'd also seen the peculiar almost-gentle demeanor he’d adopted with his minion Megara, at least until the mortal girl betrayed him. Beneath it all he was immensely lonely and sad. And this was the angle she'd needed to pry her way into position, certain she would discover a way to take complete control.

She truly felt she deserved control over such a powerful realm. She was, after all, descended from the same stock as the gods themselves. Her own parents were half-Titan. Being so closely related, the same opportunity and privilege ought to be accorded her. Of course the gods didn't see it that way, but there were ways around the rules.

Besides, sleeping with the Lord of the Dead wouldn't have been the worst compromise for power that she'd made. She had blackened her soul with evil and death, more than enough to get through the Underworld's door... but then had it slammed in her face unexpectedly. Damn Hades all the way to hell, he was smart enough to see through her. He was also a god, much too strong for her to consider outright attack.

She stopped pacing and crossed her arms, pouting and obsessing over her failure. "The only thing standing in my way is Hades, and my woman's intuition tells me something isn't quite right with him... Well, something has to be wrong with the man if he could so easily refuse me. And I'm gonna find out what that is."

Approaching the torch where it hovered, she grabbed it and lit her cauldron with the flame. Swirling colors began to spark as she smiled slyly. "Now that I've used my torch in his throne room, I can always view it again. So let's have a peek, shall we…?”

 

"Oy vey, what a witch! I need her kind of help like I need a hole in my head." He snorted at the idea. "In fact, I could live with the hole, no problem."

Pain and Panic, having witnessed the entire Hecate event (the incredible attempt at seduction made their skins crawl), finally came out from under the table and rejoined their master. But they both knew Hades' humor hadn't really returned, and they were worried about his mental state.

"Uh, say, Boss," Panic ventured, "can't you at least tell us what's wrong?"

"Yeah, I mean we're your loyal, trustworthy minions," Pain nodded. "Who else can you share your woes with?"

They smiled with sparkling sincerity and, oddly enough, what seemed like genuine concern. If Hades hadn't known them so well it made him nauseous, he'd have been almost touched by this.

The god sighed. "Look, I'm just not myself anymore, all right? A week spent in the Vortex of Fire really took it out of me, and I'm not sure when I'll get it back. Or how... Or even if... I'm having strange thoughts and even stranger feelings..." He meant that in ways he couldn't even express, and didn't care to. Frankly, it scared the shit out of him.

He recalled the week-long immersion in the waters of Pyriphlegethon like the waking nightmare it had been. The searing pain had dulled after an hour or so, then built up again... The incessant voices, crying and moaning and wailing... The dead hands clinging and tearing at his clothes... He'd been unable to get free. And he might never have gotten out if it hadn't been for the Furies who could withstand the water, even thrived on it. They'd swum down and found him, fished him out, and then turned him over to Pain and Panic. Who'd cleaned him up, tucked him into bed, and tried to force soup down his throat as though he was ill. But he wasn't ill, he was... losing his mind.

Not only had he suffered, not only was he confused and depressed, but when he was able to sit upright again the imps delivered more news. While he'd been down in the Vortex Hermes had dropped by with a missive. Hades was officially ostracized from Olympus and had forfeited his place on the Council. Yeah, like that was a big fat shocker. Hell, they'd been wanting an excuse to kick him out since forever and now they probably wanted his head on a spike. He was never Mr. Popularity. But he had royally fucked himself over this time. Exiled for all eternity. To the last place he wanted to be in the whole damned universe.

The depression unpacked its bags, kicked up its feet, and settled in to keep him miserable company for a good long while.

He rubbed his throbbing temples. "Boys, let's just say I don't feel so good, okay? So I don't need any more unexpected guests popping in for a while, got it?"

The imps promptly looked terrified and began to sweat bullets, though holding their wide and painful grins.

Fingers still propped against his head, fangs nearly sparking from friction, Hades asked in a disarmingly soft way, "...Who did you invite...?"

Panic was fidgeting madly. "We didn't know how you were feeling!" he squeaked, pulling his tall pointed horns down to nibble them.

Pain ripped his hair out in handfuls as he yipped, "We thought you might need some advice!" When he ran out of hair, he resorted to twisting his tail into knots.

Hades' blue flame hair flashed golden-red, his skin went from deathly-gray to ember-hot. Smoke roiled from beneath his feet and crept toward the imps threateningly. "Just spit it out!" he barked.

Pain and Panic clung to each other again, caroling in unison. "The Fates!"

"Oh, perrrfect..." Hades' color shifted back, but his sarcasm went into overdrive. "Well, why the hell not? Look how great everything turned out last time I took advice from them."

A voice like a squawking raven interrupted him. "This time is different."

It was Clotho, the Fate who embodied the Present, she who wove the threads into the tapestry of life itself. With her ghastly skin and worm-hair, she was hideous to behold but still the fairest of the three, and currently possessed the one eye the dread sisters shared between them.

Hades regarded her with a caustic eye of his own. "Different. Yeah. Right. Prove it."

Lachesis, she who determined the Past, who measured out the length of the threads of life, spoke in her gravelly vulture's voice. "We don't have to prove ourselves!" she huffed, as spider legs crept from the nostrils of her long pointed nose, "We are--"

"--The Fates," she and Hades finished the sentence together. She, imperiously; he, mockingly nasty.

"Yeah, yeah. Tell me something new, babe," he growled.

"Sisters," Clotho spoke again, "we must tell him the truth."

Hades snorted loudly. "Okay, yeah, that would be new."

Then Atropos, the Future aspect of Fate, the holder of the shears that cut the threads, her voice a raspy old owl, spoke. But she spoke to Clotho, completely ignoring Hades' presence which she knew irritated the living hell out of him. "We didn't exactly lie to him last time. We only tweaked it a bit, by changing that one little word."

"WHAT?" Hades flamed, literally and verbally. He leaned forward, snarling in fury, "Which word?"

Atropos deigned to acknowledge him after she retrieved the eye from Clotho. "'Should' instead of 'When'," she responded casually, her tentacle-hair waving at him. "We told you 'Should', but we really meant 'When Hercules fights, you will fail'."

There was a look of blithe indifference on her face. Her sisters expressed mild contempt and concern, Lachesis and Clotho respectively. Hades' face, however, was frozen in a mask of absolute shock and disbelief, eyes bulging, silent as death.

Suddenly he cracked, collapsing forward, hands over his eyes. "Oh, fucking hell," he moaned like a lost soul, "my entire plan hinged on one stinking four-letter word? I was never meant to win?"

Clotho sounded almost apologetic. "We had already woven it into the Tapestry of Fate that Hercules would become mortal. You were the only one who could accomplish that for us, so... we made you angry enough to carry it out."

Hades glared from between his fingers, then laughed sharply. "Oh, even better! The whole goddamned thing was about him all along? I was just a pawn for the three of you? I am soooo loving this… But hang on, hold the phone. You also said 'Zeus will finally fall, and Hades will rule all'! What about that, huh?"

"And you did rule all," Atropos said lightly. "For about two minutes."

Hades felt his jaw drop, shocked to the core once again. The prophecy had indeed been fulfilled to the letter, just not the way he'd wanted it. Now he recalled quite clearly the images shown as the prediction had originally unfolded... Hercules, appearing as an adult, eighteen years old, riding on Pegasus to defeat him. If he'd left the boy to grow up as a god, the aging process would have been considerably slower and wouldn't have matched the image at all. The Fates had decided Hercules would be mortal, and Hades had been their puppet in that task. But they'd also thoroughly planned for Hades to be defeated by Hercules, as a mortal.

Holy shit... He'd defeated himself.

Hades leaned back heavily, hands over eyes again, cursing incoherently. He'd been played like a well-tuned lyre by Orpheus. Even though he tolerated the Fates, for the sake of affection for their parents… Even though they were his own cousins... Even though they were insanely powerful and powerfully insane, at times… Even considering all that, if he could have done so, he would have found a way to follow them to their secret lair, hidden in a pocket dimension in the very depths of his own kingdom, and kicked their collective asses to hell and back.

Not that he could have. The Fates were completely inviolable by gods or anyone else, so they always did things their way. And their way usually included games and trickery and manipulation because, let's face it, after so many eons they needed the entertainment. And little did he know, Hades was their choice for New Fall Programming and they didn't want to wait for Summer to end.

Clotho spoke again, encouragingly. "I know things have been a little rough lately. But now we have a new fate for you..."

"I don't think he even deserves to hear it," Lachesis muttered icily, "he's been so rude to us."

At this point, Hades normally would have interjected a protest, flattery, bribes or whatever, to continue the game and eventually draw out the information. But now he simply sat and glared, too tired and too depressed to give a shit anymore.

"Sister," Clotho said softly, "we Fates have been cruel to him for too long. It's time."

Lachesis sighed. Okay, they'd dragged the good-cop-bad-cop scenario out long enough. It was a role they always enjoyed but Hades wasn't in the proper frame of mind to play along. Plus it really was the allotted time they'd already agreed upon to tell him the news. "Fine," she grumbled, "if it will stop his useless moping about... Let's do it,"

The Three gathered into a circle as Atropos removed the Eye, letting it float into the air between them. It lifted higher, glowing brightly as the Sisters slowly spun in their circle, chanting The Big Prophecy they had prepared. Inside the light of the Eye, flashed abstract images describing their words in only the vaguest manner.

Where once was only darkness
poor Hades learns
now a small flame
brightly burns
Only at the edge of his
world will he feel
the pain of his suffering
begin to heal
There in brightness grows
a dark flower
filled with never-
before-seen power
Defeat is triumph
in death is renewal
the Flame and the Flower
together shall rule

As the poem faded away, so did the forms of the Fates. To be contrary, they often drifted away in sparkling smoke to prevent further questioning. The echo of their laughter rang through the tall throne chamber for several seconds.

A void of silence followed, into which a single hollow, unfeeling phrase was uttered.

"...Ba-da-bing..."

Then Panic spoke up derisively. "As usual, they make no sense."

But Pain thought so. Well, sort of. "Hey, what about that one part... uh, 'go to the edge of the world and get healed', or something? Sounds like some kind of vacation, to me."

Lighting up with the idea, Panic addressed their master. "Yeah! That could be just what you need! A little fun in the sun! The wind in your hair!"

"Such as it is," Pain put in.

"The sand between your toes!" Panic went on.

"If you have any under there," Pain said skeptically.

They stopped and smiled with annoying sincerity once more, hoping the ploy had worked even a little. It hadn't.

Hades regarded them with a sneer. "Have you forgotten that I'm in hiding? One step outside and Zeus fires me extra-crispy. Some vacation plan. But," he said, rising from his seat, "I do need some time away from you two, so... Ciao." And he strode out of the throne room and into the Underworld.

For a split second, the imps were quiet. Then they breathed a huge sigh, possibly of relief, perhaps of despair.

"I hope he feels better soon," Pain said, "or we're gonna be up to the ceiling in dead souls."

Panic nodded in response. "More work for us, more responsibility."

"Wonder if we'll get a promotion?"

"At least new business cards would be nice.”

 

Hecate watched as her mystic flame guttered out with the last images, smiling darkly to herself. "So that's it. The Vortex of Fire hurt him. His own powers were used against him. I can't imagine anything reversing that!" she chuckled.

"The Fates," Havoc mentioned gently, "seem to know of something."

"Hmm, indeed..." Hecate frowned in consideration, then turned to the hellhounds. "All right, I'm going to be working on this angle for a while. You two keep an eye on the Underworld exit. If he does leave, follow him wherever he goes and report back."

"You bet!" Havoc sat upright, saluting with one paw, "We'll dog his every step!"

Mayhem joined in, quipping. "We'll hound him to the ends of the earth!"

Snickering at their own cleverness, as well as knowing how much Hecate despised their horrid puns, they took to the air and left the grotto.

"Minions," Hecate muttered in disgust.

Then she pondered all that she'd witnessed of the Lord of the Dead's plight. The god was weakened and unsure of himself, and worried about improvement. It was as if he was suddenly stricken with impotence. No wonder he turned me down, she smirked silently.

But there was one thing even better: Hades was responsible for what happened to Hercules as a baby. No one else must have known, or Zeus would have surely punished him already. It was this secret that was her key to opening a Pandora's box of misery for Hades.

Plus it would serve the bastard right for refusing her generous offer in the first place. She had given him a very easy way to go, to willingly share his kingdom while she casually took it over from the inside. But if he wanted to play rough, she'd find a way to grind him between that rock and a hard place. Too bad she hadn't mastered the trick her aunt Circe used on men who foolishly spurned her. Hades would have made a perfect pork roast.

Voice dripping with scorn and amusement, Hecate once again burst into song.

Exploiting his weakness
seems heartless and cruel
but that's the breaks, babe
when you're destined to rule
I'm Queen of the Night
and I won't be refused
that throne will be mine...
and Hades... will... lose!

The grotto echoed with her delighted wicked laughter. This Summer would have a very good ending, indeed.


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