The chaos and the hunter.., p.1
The Chaos and The Hunter (Shadows of Olympus Book 2), page 1
Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Playlist
Chapter
1. A Brewing Storm
2. Questions and Answers
3. An Unwelcome Guest
4. An Exchange
5. An Easy Task
6. When She Rolls Her Eyes
7. Good Intentions
8. Your Problems Are My Problems
9. Anchor
10. Insults and Threats
11. Islands
12. Choose Me
13. To Carve A Soul
14. I'll Rewrite Your Fate
15. Drink and Let The Games Begin
16. Revenge and Monsters
17. The Price of a God’s Love
18. Morality and Rocks
19. A Dance Of Strategy
20. A Small Price
21. The Promise of Tomorrow
22. Stares and Declarations of Love
23. Purpose
24. The Crack of Thunder
25. Fact and Fiction
26. Why
27. You Are What You Choose To Be
28. What Lies in Wait
29. Moves and Countermoves
30. As Below, So Above
31. To Be Wrath
32. Death and Riddles
33. Thousands of Fucking Pieces
34. Drinks to Remember
35. Sharp Words and Arsenic
36. The Fragility of Honor
37. Make It Bow
38. Carry Them, But Don’t Bury Yourself
39. A Reckless Question
40. The Stories That Make Us
41. Chosen and Bound
42. So Says The Chaos
43. Take My Seashells
44. The Echo of Silence
45. Stand
46. The Smell of Death
47. Worship
48. The Victor
49. First Ichor
50. The Oath
51. To Be Ruin
Epilogue
The Myth
Don't Miss Hades and Persephone's Story
Acknowledgements
About The Author
Also By J.A. Good
Also By
The Chaos and The Hunter
J.A. Good
Copyright © 2024 by J.A. Good
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. For permission requests, contact j.a.good.author@gmail.com.
The story, all names, characters, and incidents portrayed in this production are fictitious. No identification with actual persons (living or deceased), places, buildings, and products is intended or should be inferred.
Book Cover by Hannah Sternjakob
Edited by CreedReads Author Services
First paperback edition April 2024
To Rebecca, Sia would not exist without you. She is you and you are she.
I am grateful to have found a Kindred Spirit in you and love worth celebrating.
To Veronica, you inspire and motivate me to be better than I am.
Your friendship is carved into my very soul.
Playlist
All of my books have a playlist on Spotify that inspired the words on the pages before you. You can scan the QR code below to access or search me in Spotify under J.A. Good.
Chapter one
A Brewing Storm
Sia
Nineteen years was just a blink for an immortal, or so Artemisia was reminded on a daily basis. Someday, these long days will fade, and you will have to fight to remember them. Her Uncle’s words rang in her ears after how many times she had heard them throughout her life. The thing was, though, that she didn’t care about how she felt five hundred years from now. All she knew was that she was in a permanent state of hovering between happy and as if she were going to crawl out of her skin.
Maybe most nineteen-year-olds felt that way, but then most were not destined to kill their father and rewrite the hierarchy of gods. So was Sia’s fate. When she was twelve, she overheard her aunt and uncle discussing what would happen when “the twenty years were up.” Of course, her uncle knew she was there and immediately stopped talking. It was an annoying ability of his, but somehow, Sia knew it was about her. She had pestered them relentlessly until they did their annoying stare at each other and had a full conversation before conceding she was old enough to know.
That is how she learned that her mother was Hera, the goddess of women, marriage, and childbirth, and her father was the god of gods, Zeus. This was fascinating right up until the moment she learned that The Fates had predicted she would kill her own father, and she had been in hiding her entire life. Which actually explained a lot when she stopped to think about it. All she had ever known was the Underworld. She had only ever read about the sun, but if she so much as mentioned the world above, her aunt would go pale and start rubbing at the mark on her wrist of a bow and arrow.
Sia stared down at her own mark that matched her aunt’s. Her mother had asked her aunt to protect her, and that mark was a symbol of her promise.
“Brooding first thing in the morning, Sia?” her aunt’s voice rang behind her.
Seph was everything she ever hoped she could be. Confident, but gentle. Beautiful. Her long blond hair was braided over her shoulder, and the mark of her marriage to Hades stood out among the low-cut blouse she wore. She hardly ever wore anything that covered the mark, as if everyone in the Underworld didn’t already know she was the Queen. Everyone was a broad word. In reality, there was just Sia, her aunt and uncle, and the beings that belonged to the Underworld. Mostly, all of Sia's friends were dead. It sounded more depressing than it was. The dead were actually excellent company.
“Is Hades with the newest victim?” Sia asked, scooting down the railing to make room for her aunt.
She fought back a smile as she watched her aunt swallow her anxiety and step over the railing of the balcony that overlooked Asphodel.
It had always been a favorite hiding spot for Sia that Seph never understood. The city outstretched over the river and was made of iridescent lights and the dead who went about their business of existing. Boats passed easily as fishermen continued their trade, which brought them peace. Asphodel, after all, was whatever the dead needed it to be, and there was something beautiful about that.
Persephone delicately scooted back and gripped the sides of the railing on either side of her. “You know we have chairs, right?” she said, staring forward.
“Yes, but that isn’t as much fun. This adds a little spice to daily life. You do know we are immortal, right?” Sia parroted back the words with a grin.
Seph rolled her eyes. “It would still hurt.”
Sia shrugged. “How is the sad soul who is dying for my life faring?”
“Sia.” Seph’s voice was accusatory.
It only set Sia’s temper flailing. “What would you call it? One champion is chosen by each god to compete in a battle of wit and skill. The first eleven to fall must surrender something of Zeus’ choosing. The final two fight to the death for the chance of immortality.”
“I know the rules, Sia.” Seph sighed.
“Everyone knows Zeus started the trials three years ago to get me. If Hades loses, he’s bound by his oath on the River Styx to give up something of Zeus’ choosing.”
“That’s why he doesn’t lose,” Seph said dismissively.
She said it like it was a matter of fact that Hades couldn’t lose, but maybe he had just been lucky the last three years with his victor making it to the final two. It didn’t matter that none of them had won the final match, only that they survived long enough to keep Sia safe. Hades kept much of the brutality of the games a secret, but she was smart enough to fill in the blanks. The champion who was left standing was usually too broken by the end of the games to fulfill the impossible quest for immortality.
“He has a name, and it’s Orion,” Seph chastised.
Of course, Sia knew he had a name. So did the two others who never came back. Alexander and Ajax. They both died in the final two against Athena’s champions in the end. That was when she decided it was better not to know them. Not to know what motivated them to accept the role of Hades’ champion. For Ajax, it was his father who was rotting away in a prison cell for a crime he hadn’t committed. For Alex, it had been his little sister who was being hunted for marriage by a man four times her age. The two champions left standing could ask for anything they wanted short of immortality. A boon from the god of gods.
“And if he loses, Zeus asks for me, and Hades has to give me up,” Sia said.
Seph gave an audible sigh, and if she wasn’t currently grasping the balcony, Sia was sure she’d be pinching the bridge of her nose in irritation.
“He won’t lose,” she repeated.
“How can you be sure? It’s the third year of the trials. The gods and their champions know what to expect now. It won’t be like before.”
“He won’t lose because Hades won’t allow it. He chooses his champion carefully, Sia. Orion has a lot to live for, and he is more than capable. You and I are in this together.” Her flawless immortal features stared back at Sia.
Seph held out her hand before realizing that she was less stable on the balcony and returned her grip. When she was convinced she wouldn’t fall once more, she met Sia’s eyes with smooth, calm features.
“You may not have been born from us, but you are our daughter in every other way that matters, Sia.” Her aunt took a steadying breath and slid her hand over hers.
All of the frustration that had rushed to the surface quelled like the sea after a storm. She knew that they loved her. Sometimes, it was hard to see past what they were and what Sia was. As if she could never truly trick herself into thinking she belonged with them. Where Hades was darkness incarnate, and Seph was elegant and beautiful with her blond hair and light features, Sia was…not.
Her hair was the color of fire, thick and unruly, and her eyes were the same as her father’s. A light brown that looked like mud when she was mad. It was ironic that she should have so much of her father and so little of her mother. As if The Fates truly enjoyed irony when they made it her fate to kill her own father.
“You are ours,” Seph said quietly, seeing the trail her thoughts had taken.
It was too hard to force out words as emotion worked through her body. If she was theirs, then they were hers, but in six months, everything would change.
“My birthday is in six months. You won’t be bound by your oath any longer,” Sia said, steeling her jaw.
“Would you like it if I made another for twenty more years? I would do it if it would reassure you.” Her aunt’s tone brokered no argument.
Gods, she knew she would, too. It was part of what she admired most about the Queen of the Underworld. She was as tenacious as she was powerful. If she thought it would make Sia feel safer, she would extend her oath another hundred years.
“Hades would lose his mind,” Sia said with a small chuckle that alleviated some of the pressure in her chest.
Seph shrugged her shoulders. “It wouldn’t be the first time.”
As if the wrath of the god of the dead was nothing of consequence, but then again, for her, it wasn’t.
“You two know we have chairs, right?” A deep voice said behind them.
“I told her the same thing,” Seph said with a pointed look at Sia.
“I like this way better,” Sia proclaimed as she took in the twinkling lights of Asphodel.
“You do know Seph is afraid of heights?” Hades asked as he wrapped his arms around his wife, whose face went a tad pale at the movement.
“I am not,” Seph declared, though the way she now gripped Hades’ arms said otherwise.
Hades’ lips curled up in a smile as he pressed a kiss to the top of Seph’s hair. Once, when Sia was younger, she had asked if her parents were just as in love as them, and Hades’ answer had been, ‘They love each other in the only way they know how.’ It was hardly a glowing recommendation, but seeing as her father wanted her imprisoned for all eternity, it was hardly surprising.
Hades' dark blue hair fell across his forehead in gentle swoops that dipped into his eyes.
“Weren’t you supposed to cut your hair?” Sia asked with a small smile.
“Selling me out first thing, Little Chaos? Savage.” He winked at her.
“That just means I get to cut it,” Seph said with the quirk of her lips.
“Last time I let you do that, I regretted it,” Hades said.
“Guess you should have cut it yourself when I told you to,” Seph shot back.
Hades shot an accusatory look at Sia. “See what you’ve done?”
Sia shrugged even as her chest filled with a lightness she craved. This was her family, and she loved them dearly.
“Fine.” Hades sighed. “You can cut my hair, but only if the two of you get off the balcony.”
Seph leaned in towards Sia and whispered, “I really want to cut his hair.”
Sia rolled her eyes but swung her legs off the balcony and onto the safety of firm ground. Her aunt was a little less delicate as she shakily clung to Hades as he guided her down.
“If she wasn’t immortal, you would have given her a heart attack,” he said to Sia.
That earned him a hit to the chest, which he brushed away as if it were nothing.
“Now, can we have dinner like a normal family,” he said, raising his hand to create a portal of dark smoke.
Seph reached out and caught his hand in hers, narrowed eyes telling him that he knew better. The portal woven with flowers opened a second later, and they all stepped into the dining room, where a large table with endless options was laid out before them. When she had been ten, she had first felt what she now knew to be hunger. It was strange to think she hadn’t eaten anything till then, but the Underworld worked differently than other places. Her aunt came into her own divinity enough to be able to eat food in the Underworld without it claiming her when Sia was ten, and thus, Sia was able to eat as well through the bond they shared.
“You need to conserve your power,” Seph chastised as she eyed Hades, who did, in fact, look more pale than normal.
It was difficult to spot the changes for anyone who didn’t know him well, but Sia never missed it. Never stopped feeling guilty for every subtle change. A line under his eyes, a slight stutter in his walk, a cloudiness in his gaze. It was always different, but there was always a tell to how exhausted he was.
“I am sure one portal will not be the final snap in my thread,” he said as he practically fell into his chair at the head of the table.
Her aunt watched him as she took the seat next to his, and Sia took the chair opposite her.
“It’s not just one portal, Hades. You gave him too much,” she accused.
Lifting his hand, Hades pinched the bridge of his nose and spread his finger out over his cheekbone as if it would take away some of the tension that lived there.
“You know I had to,” he said quietly.
Guilt ate at her like time to a mortal. She was the reason he had given his champion so much of his power. It was part of the reason Hades had made it to the final two in the last trials. The rules were the god or goddess could bestow up to a certain amount of power, but whether they chose to do so was up to them. Dionysus was notorious for giving up a fraction of his power, and his champion was usually the first to die. Only Hades, Hera, and Poseidon gave the maximum allotted power. She knew Hera did so that her champion could team up with Hades, but no one was quite sure about Poseidon’s motivation. Either he had something to lose as well, or his power was vast enough that he didn’t mind the loss.
“You are fracturing, Hades,” Seph said, reaching for his hand.
He allowed her to pull his hand away and into hers, but his sigh was low and exhausted. “It’ll be fine. After the trials, I’ll have six months to recuperate and strengthen the seal on Tartarus.”
He said the words as if they were nothing. Hades was in charge of the Underworld, which meant that he saw to the dead but also to the prison that held the Titans, who had once controlled the world in place of the Olympians. They were dangerous, and sometimes, their cries of rage broke through their prison and haunted Sia’s mind. She knew Hades was powerful enough to maintain it all, but there was also the fact that he was using his power to create a barrier over the Underworld in a protection that kept everyone except Hermes and the dead out. To protect her. He exhausted himself to protect her.
“At least you can release the barrier in six months.” Sia meant it as a joke, but the undercurrent of anxiety she felt seeped through.
Hades twisted to her and then to Seph, who shook her head as if to say she didn’t understand either.
“What kind of shit is that?” Hades asked, eyes narrowed on her.
Sia stabbed an errant pea with her fork and pointed it at him. “It’s true. You can’t keep going on like this forever. Everyone knows when your champion dies, they take a fraction of your power with them. Now you’ve given this one too much. How do you expect to keep going on like that year after year? It’s not sustainable.”
Shoving the fork into her mouth, she choked down the pea. She was just being practical. They both wanted to pretend like this wasn’t an issue when it was.
