Page 95 of A Crown of Hopes and Sorrows

Hera disappeared, the floral scent mingling richly alongside the dampness of the cave.

Val stumbled, blood pouring forth from the wound.

Epiphany screamed.

Valerian fell to his knees right as Persephone reached him, taking Epiphany from his arms.

“Valerian,” I yelled. Epiphany tumbled from Persephone’s grasp and dropped to the floor with a thud, her tattered dress sopping up mud. Her fingers hovered above Val, and then her face lifted towards me, terror a tattoo in her expression.

She wanted me to fix it. But… I couldn’t heal. Or… if I could, I didn’t know how. Val touched the knife, and then his hand dropped again. Epiphany cried as Persephone and Hecate lingered near both of them.

I turned towards Hades. “Please…” He remained stoic, his dark eyes glinting in the low light. “I understand that you have no relationship with me, but please help him.”

Hades tilted his head. “I fear I cannot.”

“But… but, he’ll die.”

“He’s a mortal, Artemis,” Hades said gently. “Mortals die.” His voice dropped to a whisper that barely rose over Epiphany’s weeping. “The underworld is not as fearful of a place as many make it out to be, especially for those with good hearts like your friend. He will be at peace.”

“No.” I looked over my shoulder, where Epiphany brushed Valerian’s hair back. “Please. I’m begging you.”

Hades studied me for another moment, his lips pressed together. “I do not have healing powers, I’m afraid.”

Fear and hopelessness crawled over my flesh. I’d struck enough animals to know the wound Valerian had was a death blow. He had minutes if we were lucky, and there wasn’t a damned thing we could do to restore him. But I couldn’t just let him die. What was the use of being a goddess if I didn’t have the ability to fix anything? I turned back towards Hades. “Can Poseidon heal?”

Hades paused for a moment, his imposing form unnaturally still. “He can, yes.”

I gasped and ran out of the cave, hitting the sand of the coast and dropping to my knees, whipping incense out of my bag and lighting it faster than I’d ever managed before. “Poseidon,” I prayed, bowing my head. “Lord of the seas. Father.” I bit the word. “Please hear me and come to me.”

For a minute, nothing happened.

The sea crashed against the beach.

My arms stung where it bled, dripping down my elbow, punctuating the sand.

Epiphany’s cries and Valerian’s gasping breaths echoed out of the cave.

A hopelessness washed through me, like it would drown me. I had no control over this situation and could only hope my father would answer my call.

Then the water parted, and Poseidon rode onto the shore, his stallion giving its head a shake and salt spray trembling from its mane. Poseidon jumped down from his horse and met me. “Yes?”

For a moment, words wouldn’t form. He’d come for me. I was still angry and hurt, but a twinge of gratitude pinched at me. “My friend is dying.”

“I told you that was likely to happen.”

I breathed through my teeth. “I want you to heal him.”

“No. I do not interfere with mortals anymore.”

“I want you to heal him for my sake.” Tears broke loose and fell down my cheeks. “You owe me.”

Poseidon’s expression turned curious, his dark skin highlighted silver by the moon. “How so?”

“You created me. And whether you intended to be involved with me”—tears came earnestly, grazing along my collarbone—“that was still a choice you made. I deserve more from a father. So, I say you owe me, and I want you to heal my friend… quickly… before it’s too late.”

“Losing mortals to death is a reality of what we are, Artemis. Better for you to learn to deal with it and focus on your fate.”

“I can’t concentrate on it if I caused his death. And you can fix it. So, if you wish for me to focus, do so.”