Curses of Olympus (The Olympus Trilogy #2)

45. Hestia

45

HESTIA

T he chaos and cacophony of the deconstruction of the Under Temple has been a persistent nuisance, and Hestia massages her throbbing temples.

With all thirteen symbols accounted for, Hades instructed that the stones containing the symbols be extracted from the surrounding rock and architecture. Hestia is skeptical of his plans to reconstruct the circles of standing stones in the diagrams, but it certainly cannot hurt to try.

Even in the sanctity of the library, the noise is continuous, but Hestia trudges on. She knows she has seen the box Medusa described. Was it in a book?

It sounds similar to one she has seen in Aphrodite’s possession but not exactly the same. If only Aphrodite had not rushed back to Olympus, but she is at least grateful to know that her former friend is now an oathed member of the Allegiance.

Having Aphrodite deeply entrenched in Pantheon business will be an unbelievably advantage for the rebels—as long as she doesn’t double cross them, that is. With how easily Nicodemus managed to evade his oath, Hestia cannot help but worry this will all backfire on them.

The library bustles with activity as others help Hestia research the box. Medusa sketched a crude drawing of her memory of it, but they have not seen her for a while now.

Hestia tries to stamp down her irritation when Epiphany comes whisking up the aisle, but she cannot help but roll her eyes when she sees the Muse is reading a children’s book, for Fates’ sake.

“Epiphany, dear, your time might be more useful going over the history texts,” Hestia says, trying to keep her voice level.

The Muse laughs brightly. “But then how would I have found this?” Epiphany presents the open book to Hestia.

Reading the title of the fable out loud, Hestia exclaims, “Pandora’s Box! Epiphany, you’re a genius!”

“You’re welcome!” Epiphany calls out cheerfully as she is already walking away.

Hestia scans the page, muttering out loud to herself. Of course! Countless fables for children are rooted in history and facts. It is truly shocking that she never considered that during all her research.

But what does a story about not letting curiosity get the best of you have to do with Medusa? Nobody really even knows if Pandora is or was a real person. At this point, her legitimacy is as much debated as her merit.

“Everyone, meet me at the center tables!” Hestia calls out and walks briskly to the spot, book of fables in hand.

Hestia is surprised Hades was assisting in the research, but it should not have been unexpected at this point. Since arriving in the Underworld, she has constantly been impressed by how hands-on the King of the Dead is.

The row of shocked faces when Hestia tells the group about Pandora would be humorous if the state of the world were not so precariously hinging on a fable.

Hades is the only person who does not look surprised. He merely sighs, “I wish we did not have to disturb her, but we do not need to look far for Pandora. Getting her box from her, however, might prove to be more difficult.”

“Just tell her how important it is,” Alec says, growing impatient.

Hestia glances Alec’s direction, and he greets her with a tight smile. There has been no time to talk to him about their relationship and things with Hera lately. Allegiance missions have increased in frequency, and Alec is away more than he is here.

Hestia tries not to take it personally. The Allegiance is all that matters right now. She can only hope he knows she loves him, and she prays to the Fates that they get a moment to talk soon.

Shaking his head, Hades says, “It’s not that simple. She has been driven mad for centuries. I do not know what was actually placed inside that box, or by whom, they torment her endlessly to keep its secret contained. Despite the fable’s declaration otherwise, it has never been opened. Hestia, Cassandra, come with Persephone and me.

“Perhaps if only the three of us go and speak with her, it will not be as intimidating, and we will have some luck. This problem will require patience, not brute force.”

H estia glances around the cozy, dimly lit room. They are in a wing of the Under Temple she has not seen before, one reserved for Hades’s personal one. On the walk over, he explained to her how he found Pandora centuries ago and someone got her here safely. He, and eventually Persephone, have been caring for her ever since.

“No. No. No. No. I can’t. No. No. No. No!” Pandora shrieks, covering her ears and squeezing her eyes shut as she sits in a dark corner of the room on a lush velvet chaise. Hestia examines the frail being before her. She was likely otherworldly beautiful at one point, but now she is a husk. Her long, straight white hair looks so much like Arachne’s, except Pandora’s is stringy and lifeless. Her skin stretches over her body like it is two sizes too small for even her dainty frame. Hestia imagines that when healthy, her complexion is a rich olive, not the pasty ash-like flaxen skin she sees now.

“Who gave you the box, sweetheart?” Persephone asks, her voice sweet like honey, warm and inviting.

“No. No. Please. No. She will kill me,” Pandora whispers the last words, and Hestia’s heart breaks for her.

Hades raises his brows and looks at Persephone. He mutters to them, “That’s more than she has ever said before.”

Persephone nods, and places her arm on his bicep.

Cassandra clears her throat softly, and Pandora looks up at Cass for the first time. She tilts her head and asks, “Who are you?” Her voice is so strained it sounds like a whisper.

Is it merely from disuse, or is there that much fear in her right now?

“I am Cassandra. I see your pain and know it well. The Fates would like to speak to you through me. Will you allow them a message?” Cass asks gently.

Pandora looks to Hades, uncertain. He nods, his lips pressed together.

“Oh. Alright,” Pandora says meekly, giving in.

Hestia is familiar with Cass’s appearance when the Fates speak through her by now, but it still makes her skin pebble when her friend’s eyes go white and her voice is no longer her own. “Pandora. You have been deceived. It is time for your story to be righted, as well as the realm’s. It is time to relinquish the box.”

“No! I cannot!” Pandora cries out as if she has been struck. Who did this to her?

“Do you doubt us, child?” the Fates ask, and Cass tilts her head.

“No!” Pandora shakes her head aggressively as tears run down her face.

“Do you wish to be free of your torment?”

“Yes. Please!” Pandora wails.

“Give them the box, child.”

Pandora is despondent as she hands the box over to Hades. As soon as it is out of her possession, she slumps in exhaustion, passing out. He catches her quickly and gently places her in her bed.

“Let’s get everyone together and crack this thing open, shall we?” Hades asks.

“ M y love, are you angry with me?” Hestia asks Alec once they are finally alone in her quarters.

Alec tilts his head. “Why would I be angry with you? I know the Allegiance has taken up my time, but it has nothing to do with you,” he assures her.

His large hand cups Hestia’s cheek, and embers of hope spark within her heart.

“You aren’t upset about… my feelings for Hera?” Hestia picks at the fabric of her dress, avoiding his gaze while she awaits his answer.

He chuckles. “You think I couldn’t tell? I have known the entire time you were searching for her so earnestly. You love her.”

“That doesn’t bother you?”

“You said you love me, right?” His voice is soft.

“Yes.”

“Then why would it?”

Hestia lifts her head and looks at him. His steely gray eyes burn with the same love and devotion she always finds there, and the knot that was twisting in her stomach loosens.