He’d laughed.
They stared at him, each more astounded than the last. Where Hermes smiled, Apollo gaped. Ares’ cold gray eyes narrowed, his brows furrowing deeply. The silence held until Apollo asked, “What of Erysichthon?”
“He will come for me.” Once he’d spoken the words, he knew them to be true.
They looked at him again.
Apollo shook his head. “He cannot defeat you.”
Ares shifted restlessly, as was his way, but his eyes remained fixed upon Hades.
Hermes rubbed a hand over his face. “Not tonight, surely.”
Hades peered out of the cave. The rain had chilled the air, leaving the sky thick with clouds. The sliver of the moon that hung low in the sky cast almost no light.
Yes, tonight.
“No, not tonight,” he agreed.
It took little encouragement to send them on their way. Apollo and Hermes were eager to return to Olympus to share the day’s events. But Ares lingered, turning his stony gaze upon Hades.
“You’re ready then?” he asked.
Hades did not pretend to misunderstand him. He nodded.
Ares’ eyes narrowed. “He cannot kill you, he knows that. But he would see you suffer, dearly, I think.”
Hades nodded.
He bid Ares farewell. In the darkness their auras shone brightly. Apollo, golden. Hermes, yellow, and Ares, red.
He removed his tunic, leaving the cave and scaling the mountain face to wait.
###
Erysichthon had watched closely.
It took one touch. Once in Hades’ hold, they fell. Not once, but twice, these men had tasted defeat. For him. And he would not let their sacrifice be in vain. He would see this thing through, and be successful.
The night was black. No wind stirred the trees or lifted the shadows.
He was strong. He was ready.
Three spears, tipped with poisoned barbs, were strapped to his back.
He watched them leave, heard the boasts and jokes of Apollo and Hermes. Heard the bark of Ares as they left.
And when they were gone, he saw Hades remove his tunic and climb, with no shield or clothing, to the top of the mountain.
It galled him. Did the God think he needed no protection? Did he doubt Erysichthon’s prowess, his power?
He smiled, slipping through the trees.
Each footfall sounded, the squish of mud, the snap of branches. But Hades did not turn. He stood, alert and ready.
Erysichthon ran, darting about his foe to flank him. He waited, pressing himself flat against the tree. Why did he not move?
“Why do you hesitate?” Hades called out.