Chapter Twenty Nine

## Twenty Nine

The thratch poured into the glass, filling the bottom third before the bottle was tipped upright and set aside. Biting the thumbnail of his right hand, Asclepius' eyes left the glass and eyed the pourer. Then, raising his eyebrow, he extracted his thumb from his lips. "That for you or me?" he asked as the goddess picked up the glass and handed it to her husband. Asclepius accepted the offer as Epione sat beside him.

"It's for you," said the goddess as she rested her head on Asclepius' shoulder. "If you tell what is happening in that beautiful mind of yours."

Leaning forward, Asclepius returned the glass to the refectory table where he had placed it moments ago before getting too caught up with his thoughts to pour it. "No," he said, shaking his head. "I need to keep my mind clear."

"Allow me to help you clear it out," said Epione, offering a gentle smile.

Asclepius smiled. "I don't know how good of a prick I'd offer-" he began to say but paused when he saw her expression shift. He let out a sigh as he leaned back on their sofa. "You meant you wanted me to talk about it, didn't you?"

With a giggle and a roll of her eyes, Epione smiled. "I want the words of your mouth. If taking you to bed lets you loosen your lips, so be it. I'll take it. I'm not going to say no."

Shaking his head, Asclepius looked at the glass of thratch. "I do not need to be bribed to speak with liquor or cunny. If you want to know, you need to only ask. You know that."

Epione nodded. "Of course, I do. We've been married so long. However, with that experience, I know you're stressed, and it pains me to see you this way. Hence the offer of drink or sex... or both," she added with a giggle. "If mere talk frees your mind of burden, start to speak, husband. I will listen. If words alone will not be the remedy you need, then know I'm here to help you. I did not make my vow lightly."

Letting out a heavy sigh, Asclepius nodded with a grin. "How did I get so fortunate to have a wife such as you?" he asked, putting an arm over her shoulders and delivering a kiss to her forehead.

"Well," Epione smiled as she moved about, straddling his lap and placing the tip of her nose against his, "the way I see it. I'm the fortunate one to have a husband as remarkable as you."

They stared into each other's eyes as Asclepius let his mind think about how the two had met. It was the time of the hunt for the Great Boar of Calydon. The creature had been plaguing the Aetolian countryside in the region known as Calydon for some time, harassing or killing travelers and destroying vineyards. When the local soldiers and hunters of the area were insufficient to hunt down the ferocious monster, King Oeneus put a significant bounty on the creature.

The reward for killing the beast was incredibly generous. Moreover, it drew the attention of the greatest heroes of the era. Many Argonauts came to hunt the beast, including the heroine Atalanta who would be the one to slay the great beast. However, before the creature's death, Asclepius had come to the area to examine the beast.

A rumor had spread that the goddess Artemis had sent the beast to punish Oeneus. The notion of such was preposterous. The creature was a spawn of Typhon and Echidna, not some creature unleashed by the gods. Still, despite the assurances of Hermes that Artemis was not responsible, the rumor spread, and sacrifices made to Artemis were withheld as a result. Hera had used this as justification to censure Artemis and open an inquiry into the allegations, despite Artemis being away on an extended hunt and unavailable for comment or question.

That is what brought the physician of the gods to Calydon. Asclepius had been asked by Apollo to exonerate his twin by supplying evidence of the beast's origin. Asclepius had planned to take a flesh sample to clear his aunt's name. Monstrosities born of Typhon had similarly dark flesh that was stronger than any armor. When their skin was cut, it would not heal fully, causing such beasts to often have this ghastly appearance with sloughing flesh that revealed their musculature, bones, or viscera beneath. It would be easy to compare whatever flesh he could to that of Cerberus to prove this was a creature of Typhon's making and not some ferocious pig Artemis bred for destruction.

Shortly after Asclepius' arrival, wearing the trappings of a humble *therapeutes*, or healer-priest, he found that he was not the only deity in attendance for the hunt. Hera had sent her representative to verify the authenticity of any evidence Asclepius would produce. So keeping watch over Asclepius for the remainder of the hunt's duration was Epione, adorned in the trappings of a well-dressed *hetaira,* or courtesan.

When he first saw the goddess waiting for him upon his arrival at King Oeneus' garden, Asclepius recognized her as a godling among Hera's retinue as gods were not affected by the workings of trappings. Before that moment, Asclepius had never had the pleasure of speaking to Epione, but he immediately knew why she was there. As he approached the king to explain why he was there, it became apparent that Epione had already told the king to expect his arrival. Furthermore, it seemed she had already poisoned the king against Asclepius by telling him the priest was there to chastise him for not paying sacrifices to the god's aunt.

After trying to set the matter straight with Oeneus and failing, Asclepius asked to speak privately with the goddess. He did not wait for an answer as he took her by the arm and walked her to an unoccupied room within the king's palace. He had barely closed the door behind them when Epione began to laugh.

"You seem upset," said the goddess.

Asclepius turned around and glared. "You turned him against me before I had the chance to speak my purpose."

Rolling her eyes, Epione dismissed that notion. "He was already against your purpose. Artemis has soured this whole region against the gods with her actions."

"Artemis didn't do this," replied Asclepius.

Epione blinked and smiled. "You're adorably dumb," she said as she folded her arms. "You're sweet to think the best of your aunt; however, whether she did or did not do this, the fact remains that the mortals of Aetolia do not appreciate the gods right now... and you come to beseech the king for his cooperation dressed a priest?" she asked, punctuated with a scoff.

Scratching his cheek and chuckling, Asclepius conceded she made a good point. He walked across the room and stared out the window. The view was nothing impressive, but the fresh air from the open window drew him there. The room had a mild funk to it. Whoever slept here did not bathe with any regularity. Judging by the smell, size, and lack of regular cleaning, it was likely where one or more sentries slept. "I will admit, it is not my finest decision," he said as he leaned his shoulder and upper arm against the wall beside the window.

Epione took position across the window from him and smiled. "I will give you points for admitting I'm right. Not many gods would do that."

"I'm not sure if I should take that as a compliment or if I am meant to take offense," said Asclepius with an uneasy grin.

"It was meant as praise," she said with a smirk. "Why would you be offended by such a remark?"

"You implied that my gender does not respect yours."

"Do they?" asked Epione with a scoff. "I have not seen much evidence of that."

"What is your meaning?"

She motioned out the window. "The mortals seem to be under the impression that men and women are opposites. Their medical writings regard men as hot and dry while women are cold and moist. They think women are cold-blooded creatures. Men are seen as virtuous figures, which means women thus have no choice but to be vile. Women have fewer rights. Female citizens of Greece are only seen as marginally better than their slaves."

Asclepius chuckled. "Mortal men and how they treat mortal women have little to do with the dealings between gods and goddesses. The Council of the Twelve is composed of six gods and six goddesses. Our monarchs are one god and one goddess, who reign together."

"Yes," admitted Epione. "Hera, Demeter, Hestia, Athena, Artemis, and Aphrodite play a fair role in combating the inequality within our culture, but why should they be alone in that work? Why cannot the gods do more to help goddesses? We do so much to help you."

"I'm confused," Asclepius said with a raised eyebrow. "What would you have us do?"

Epione scoffed as she reached over to give his cheek a patronizing pat. "Such clueless creatures, you males... both mortal and divine."

Catching her wrist and locking eyes with her, Asclepius stepped forward. "If my tone was insufficient evidence, allow me to be precise. I am being serious in my inquiry."

"I know," said Epione, jerking her hand free from the god's grip and rubbing the joint with her other hand.

"Do I harm you?" Asclepius asked.

Epione shook her head but averted her eyes. "No, you did not," she said, stepping away and turning her back to him. "Goddesses are not as fragile as you think."

Sighing, Asclepius followed her and walked around her. "Let me see your wrist," he said, offering his hand instead of outright taking hers.

Reluctantly, Epione sighed and humored the god, delicately placing her hand in his. Beneath the bracelets and other fineries she wore for her trappings, Asclepius found her flesh bruised. "It's not that bad," she said.

Asclepius released a long sigh. "It's nothing Ambrosia wouldn't mend," he said, reaching into his pouch and producing some dried curds of Ambrosia. He opened his hand, offering the Ambrosia to the goddess, but she gently rolled his fingers over the cheese. "What are you doing?" he asked, shaking his head. "Please, have some. I have plenty."

She batted her eyes at him. "That's just the point. You have plenty because you are the physician of Olympus. That's yours. You earned that. I have not yet earned my ration for the month."

"For the month?" Asclepius asked, scoffing. "This is Ambrosia. It's the necessary sustenance. It's not meant to be used as some sort of salary to be dispensed for services rendered."

"Maybe that's how it is for the family," Epione again rubbed her wrist. "That's not the case for the divinity."

Blinking, Asclepius shook his head. "No," he said. This was the first he had heard of this. He could not believe that Ambrosia was being used as payment. "My brother Aristaeus-"

"Aristaeus oversees Nektar," said Epione. "At least the Empyrean Nektar. Which is fine, but I actually prefer the Stygian blends. It reminds me of home. Plus, it's more readily available to us common gods," she said accusingly. "You and your family always get the first claim to the Empyrean Nektar."

Asclepius had not considered who provided the Ambrosia he consumed and had on hand for his patients. Then, stroking his chin, he looked to Epione to enlighten him. "If you are being rationed, who is it that you receive this payment from?"

"Who else?" she asked with a scoff. "Your father oversees the gods' health, doesn't he? Just as Artemis is extorting these mortals for worship, your father is extorting the gods."

With a scoff, Asclepius rolled his eyes. "Apollo may have put his seed into the womb that I was cut from, but make no mistake. He is not my father."

"He sent you here," she replied with contempt. "You're on his errand."

"I was asked by a member of the Twelve to investigate and provide proof, whether to prove or disprove the queen's claims," Asclepius said. "While I believe that Artemis did not do this, I am not biased. I only want to serve the court to the best of my ability."

Epione had not expected that answer. "I must say that I did not expect such an answer. I had wrongfully assumed you were another of Apollo's minions."

"Minions?" Asclepius asked. "What does that mean? Do you speak of the Heliads?"

Shaking her head, Epione turned and returned to the window, folding her forearms on the sill as she looked out. "While I have complained about both the Heliads and Muses in the past," she said with a sigh. "This particular grievance I place at the feet of Helios, Eos, and Selene," Epione said. "The pardoned ones."

Helios, Eos, and Selene were the former exalted champions of the Titans Hyperion and Theia. When their side had lost the war, and Theia had been imprisoned, Hyperion had insisted that he be spared the same fate. He had been the Titans' God of the Sun, and he truly feared the eternal darkness that Tartarus offered. So, Zeus gave Apollo and Artemis a choice to show mercy as Hyperion had surrendered to them. The gods took Hyperion to the Underworld river Styx and had him bathe in its waters. From that, they had reshaped him into the god Phaeton and his seven sisters.

Having seen their matron imprisoned and patron remade, Helios and his spirit sisters asked that they be spared Tartarus. So they forsook their oaths to Theia and the memory of Hyperion, bathed in the river Lethe which washed away their memories, and then pledged their devotion to Apollo and Artemis. When the pantheon was young, Helios, Selene, and Eos would operate the golden and silver chariots, riding them across the sky to collect the psychic energy of mortal worship. Then, they would bring this energy back to the Haven for processing. This processed worship was then used to fertilize the gardens of the Haven, which the celestial bees would use to make Nektar. The worship was also used in the fields that Apollo's herd of cattle grazed upon. These cows would then be milked to provide Ambrosia.

In further discussion with Epione, Asclepius learned Selene, Eos, and their spirit brother had also been tasked with overseeing the herd that Apollo had previously tended. Those three, citing their direct connection to the Titans, also claimed they were on par with the gods and goddesses of the Quorum of Six. Helios, Eos, and Selene also kept exacting records of how much Ambrosia the various residents of the Haven had been using. Anyone who requested what they deemed excessive was denied until the next moon. The Twelve and those directly affiliated with them, such as Asclepius, were the exception to this rationing.

This angered Asclepius, but he could little about it at that time. So instead, he promised Epione he would do something about this when he had the chance. In the meantime, he somehow convinced her to share his Ambrosia with her. After the hunt was over, with the heroine Atalanta bringing down the beast, much to Epione's joy, the pair had returned to the Haven with a sampling of the monstrosity's hide.

Presenting evidence that exonerated Artemis did little to advance Epione in the ranks of Hera's retinue. So, shortly afterward, Epione came to his residence. Well, she had not come there on her own. She had been unconscious when two satyrs brought her in, having found her beaten near the stables. Asclepius treated her injuries, and as he was doing so, she awoke and asked him what he was doing.

"I'm treating your injuries," he said with a laugh as he dabbed a sponge soaked in medicated Ambrosia over her bruises, essentially wiping away her contusions.

Epione was not laughing. She grabbed his wrist and glared. "You promised that something would be done about this."

Asclepius blinked. "Wait... Are you saying that the pardoned ones did this to you?" he asked, suddenly concerned. He had told Aristaeus about Epione's claims. His brother had assured him that he would raise the matter with Apollo.

Letting out a sigh, Epione shook her head. "I knew I shouldn't have told you. It figures that you'd look out for your father's cronies."

Asclepius regretted having shared Epione's name with his brother. However, he had no suspicions that Aristaeus had intentionally done the same with Helios, Eos, and Selene. Aristaeus would not have done that. Much like Asclepius himself, Aristaeus had been raised by Kheiron. They had a code. They knew what was right and what was wrong. Aristaeus would never allow this thing to happen without objection.

"I'm sorry," Asclepius said. He moved to dab her bruises again, but she reeled away.

Epione shook her head as she walked toward the doorway of the spare bedroom he used to see patients. "It's no longer safe for me here. I need to be going."

Catching her wrist, Asclepius stalled her departure. "Give me a day?" he asked.

"What can you do in a day?" Epione asked.

"I can fix this," he promised her.

"How?" she asked, shaking her head. "I don't see how it's possible."

"Anything is possible," he said, looking her in the eye. "Just give me a chance."

Epione shook her head. "There's nothing here for me anymore. Hera dismissed me. I cannot work in the fields, not after today, and I have no head to work for Hephaestus or Hestia. That is to say nothing about the Graces. I'm nowhere near beautiful enough to join their ranks."

"There is plenty of other work in the Haven," Asclepius said, brushing hair off her brow and dabbing the bruise now exposed with his sponge.

Epione winced, then scoffed. "Like what?"

"There are shops," he said with a smile. "I know Rhapso is looking for help. How are you at sewing?"

She rolled her eyes. "Lousy."

"I could teach you," he said.

"You could teach me to sew?" she asked with a scoff.

He nodded. "In fact, I'm a great sewer," he said as he took the goddess' hand in his, then mimed a needle in his hand as he stitched an imaginary wound. "See?"

Epione sucked on her lower lip. "You want me to work for you?"

Asclepius had not actually considered that possibility. He had always just been content to handle these matters on his own. It had never occurred to him that he could have assistants. Smirking, he looked her in the eye and then shook his head. "No, I don't want you to work for me."

Sighing, she nodded and looked away. "Right. I'm sorry I presumed-"

"I want you to work with me," Asclepius said with a grin and a solid nod.

The replying scoff was loud and forceful. "I'm no healer," Epione said.

"You don't need to be," Asclepius said. "I can teach you what you need to know, but most of what you would need to know you already do."

"I do?" she asked skeptically.

Asclepius nodded. "You do. For Hera, you brought her meals and drinks, didn't you? You probably helped her bathe, too. Those are the sorts of things that my patients need. If I had someone who could do that for me, I could have them stay somewhere where we could give them the care they need until they recover fully."

"You want to have an Asclepeion sanctuary here... in the Haven?" Epione asked with a bewildered expression.

"Why not?" he asked with a shrug. "The healing temples in creation are remarkably effective... and those are mortals managing them. Imagine what a pair of gods-"

"A god and goddess," Epione said with an exacting, correcting tone.

"Right," he said with a nod and wink. "Imagine what we could do together. We could even employ assistants if we could petition the Twelve to grant us enough resources and space."

Epione blinked, becoming more confused as her eyes opened and reassessed his expression. "Why would you do that for me?"

Biting his lip and shrugging, Asclepius did not have an answer ready. He saw her shoulders drop and could see her eyeing the doorway again. He took a step forward and felt his throat go dry. "I want to protect you."

That was the wrong thing to say. Asclepius knew it as soon as it left his mouth. However, he had said it, and if he did not want the goddess to leave—and that was the last thing he wanted—he would need to make them the right words. So, he took a deep breath, raised a finger to stall for a moment, and then blurted out something resembling reason.

"I know you feel you don't need protection. However, I cannot help it," Asclepius said, placing his hand over his heart. "It is my nature to protect you and everyone else that I meet. I'm a protector."

Epione held her ground as she giggled. "Oh, yes. Behold, the mighty Asclepius!" she said, shaking her head. "It is he who felled the Titans and none can best the fearsome Ares except he!"

Asclepius did not mind the mocking. He even smiled. She had a good sense of humor, and he did find the idea of him bearing a spear and shield ridiculous. "I don't protect people from blades or bludgeoning," he clarified.

She scoffed and pointed to her bruised face. "Oh, now you tell me."

He locked gazes with her, taking her hand by the wrist and lowering it. "I protect from something worse. I protect from what follows blades and bludgeons. I protect from disease and death," Asclepius explained. "I can stave off death from the most greivous of injury," he boasted. "I have met no disease that I cannot remedy."

"There is no moment that goes by that I do not express how great I am," Epione said, mimicking his posture and voice.

Asclepius sighed. "However, as can be seen from this conversation and our many prior ones, I am not the best with words. I can diagnose ailments but I can not read the room. I have no head for politics. I make for lousy conversation."

"You really do," she said with a nod.

"That's why I need your help," Asclepius said with a smile. "You knew back in Calydon that approaching the king as a herald of the gods was a mistake. So instead, you approached him as a well-spoken courtesan. I'm not saying we need to treat our patients as a contentious negotiation, but having someone who knows what people want to hear will aid the healing process."

"How so?" she asked, finally warming up to what he had to offer.

"Healing is not just a process of the body," explained the divine physician. "Equally important is the mind's will to live. I have seen those who lacked such will die from minor ailment and injury while those with a potent zest for life survived the worst afflictions. So, if you can help me, I think that working together, we could do a lot of great work."

"What makes you think I want to do this?" Epione asked.

"You care," Asclepius said, nodding. "You did not tell me about this matter with the Ambrosia for your own sake," he said. "You told me about it because you wanted something done, not for yourself, but for the others affected," he paused as his mind came to a sudden realization. "Aristaeus had not told the Helios, Eos, and Selene about your report to me. Did he?"

Epione bit her lower lip and shrugged. "I can not say," she eventually admitted, averting her eyes as her hand rubbed her arm.

"You confronted the three on your own," Asclepius said, "even though you knew this would be the outcome. I'm willing to bet that you confronted them before, and they're the ones who left the marks on your wrist that I found in Calydon. Isn't that, right?"

Smirking, she let her finger tap him on the nose. "Ah, not so dumb anymore, are you?" she asked, closing the distance to him. She brushed some wheat-colored hair off his brow and gazed into his eyes. "Still adorable, though..."

Letting out a long sigh, Asclepius barged out of the room. He adjusted his chlamys in his residence's foyer and barged into the corridor. He had no exact plan, but he knew he had to do something.

"What are you thinking?" Epione asked in the present moment, resting her forehead and nose against her husband's face.

Taking a deep breath, Asclepius let himself remember his surroundings. Then, with hands placed on his wife's hips, he smiled. "Just reminding myself how lucky I am to have you."

Epione smiled. "You flatter me, but your marital bliss is not what troubles you. Talk to me. Let me care for you..."

Nodding, Asclepius began to recount the events of his last few days. "The autopsies in Sparta revealed most of the crew of the Advancer had not died in the crash. They had been murdered while in flight," he explained. "Which obviously only leaves a few suspects."

"Such as?" asked Epione.

"Those capable of flight," Asclepius said with a nod. "I've been assured by the experts that there was no way for a boarding party to catch the crew of the Advancer by surprise, as the lack of defensive wounds on the crew seems to indicate was how their killers did the deed. I looked into it; Daedalus nor his brash son are presently among the living. So, that seems to rule out mortals with stealth flight capabilities."

"Pegasus?" asked Epione.

"No, Pegasus could only haul one or two combatants to the altitude needed," Asclepius explained. "The injuries I found seem to suggest at least three, probably more participants in the assault."

"Who do you think it was?" asked his wife, sitting up and resting her hands on his shoulders.

"The harpies."

Epione nodded. "So the rumors are true. Hera was involved in this?"

Asclepius shrugged. "I cannot comment on that. You know me. I'm not very good at these politics. However, I will say that they were not my first suspects."

"Who was that?" Epione asked, raising an eyebrow.

"The furies."

Nodding, Epione agreed. "That does seem possible. You know who else could do it? The Throne Guard."

Asclepius rolled his eyes. "Dear, this is not a jesting matter."

She scoffed. "Oh, you can suggest the harpies, the queen's personal guards and enforcers, but I can't suggest the king's thugs? There's a word for that."

Letting out a sigh, Asclepius shook his head. "You think I'm sexist?"

"I think you're capable of being sexist," she said with a very political answer. She then leaned forward to give her husband a light kiss on his lips. "But, please, continue. Tell me why the harpies did this."

"Like I said," he began, shaking his head and unable to help his silly smile offered for his wife's benefit. She was too beautiful not to award with a smile. It was the least he could do for her when her beauty pleased his eyes as it did. "I suspected the furies as I departed Sparta. I had been summoned back to the Haven on word that Hades was in critical condition. Well, as you know, I performed surgery on him. I successfully removed the adamantine slug from the patient. I followed up by cleaning the wound with warm Nektar and an intravenous feed of-"

"Dear," Epione said with a giggle, shaking her head. "You don't need the full medical chart. Just talk to me."

Asclepius nodded as she did have a point. But, of course, Epione always had a point. It was part of why he loved her so much. "Right, well, as my patient was recovering-"

"As Hades was recovering," she said with a slow nod.

"Right, as Hades was recovering, we began to talk."

Asclepius recalled the events quite vividly. Just two days ago, he was in the recovery room, checking vitals and restocking the supplies. This was usually a chore his daughters or nymph nurses would see to, but Zeus was insistent that no one should enter Hades' room except for a member of the Six, the Twelve, or Asclepius himself. So stationed outside Hades' room was a member of the Throne Guard. While Asclepius was topping off the intravenous chalice with fresh warm Nektar, Bia watched him do it.

As the physician gave her an awkward smile, she glared in reply. Asclepius took the plate of Ambrosia curds he had prepared from the cart. He offered it to Bia, but she only glared. He shrugged. "Don't say I never offered you anything," he said with a feigned scoff, then placed the plate on the bedside table next to his patient. "By the way, how your hip doing?"

Bia raised an eyebrow. "My hip?"

Nodding, he removed his stethoscope and breathed on its bell, warming it up. "Yeah. You came to the clinic... two weeks ago, was it? I think you had injured it... while... wrestling is what you said."

Bia nodded. "It's fine. Thanks."

"I'm glad to hear it," he said with a smile as he affixed the headgear to his ears and placed the bell on his patient's chest. "Let's see what else I can hear," he said before finding a steady heartbeat and good breathing. Both were shallower and weaker than he liked to see, but they were reasonable considering what his patient had been through.

Then, he felt something. His patient's hand gripped his wrist. That was followed by a weak moan. "What are you doing to me?" Hades asked with a weak voice.

"I'm checking vitals," said the physician. "It's me, Asclepius," he introduced himself to assure his patient, noting the convalescing god's eyes were still closed. "You've been through quite the ordeal," he explained. "Can you tell me what you remember?"

Taking a deep breath and wincing all through it, Hades nodded. He opened his mouth to speak, but only weak rasping breath escaped.

"Here," said Asclepius, helping the god sit up and offering him a small tumbler of Nektar from his cart. "Careful," he said, placing the orichalcum cup in the patient's hand. "It's medicinal strength. Much stronger than you're used to. You'll need to sip it for now. You were deprived of Nektar for some time so your body might reject it. Blood does not want to become ichor, especially yours. It remembers what it was like to be blood. It was simpler back then," he said with an awkward chuckle.

Hades did appreciate the physician's odd humor. He took the glass and did as he was told, sipping the golden drink carefully. It was challenging to chug it, as its potency meant it resembled a syrup more than a beverage. As he took three slow but long sips from it, Bia stepped out to secure a nurse and have her inform the king of the patient's recovery.

After a few sips and the god's struggling to keep it down, he handed the tumbler back to the surgeon. "I remember confronting a heretic. He had a friend who shot at me. I partly deflected the shot," he said, looking at his hand and seeing the gash across his knuckles. "Then he turned his rifle toward my daughter. I charged him, but in so doing, I took a second shot... After that, things get hazy."

Asclepius nodded. "Hazy is not entirely unexpected in this situation. Is there anything that might stick out from the haze?"

Hades nodded. "Hera."

"Hera?" asked Asclepius, folding his arms and eyeing his patient, visually examining his breathing, complexion, and overall appearance of health. "Can you expound on that?"

"She was here... or there..." Hades weakly chuckled. "It's difficult to say. I don't know where I was; I just know she was there... at my side. She kept me from the brink... Her and... and my daughter, Makaria. She was there, too," he gasped and jolted more upright, swinging his legs off the bed. "My daughters!"

Asclepius was quickly blocking his patient and forcibly easing him back in bed. But, as he had told Hermes before, he was not a physician bound by Hippocrates' oath, so he was not above smacking his patient's mending injury to remind him just how fragile his condition was. As he did that, swatting Hades' chest with the back of his hand, Hades turned to putty and fell back into bed, biting his lip to silence his pained howl. Only when his patient was back in bed, with a blanket smoothed out over his legs, did the surgeon ease his mind. "Your daughters are fine," he said with a nod as he took the tumbler from the bedside table and returned it to his patient's uninjured hand. "At least two of them," he said.

"What does that mean?" Hades asked, glaring from over the rim of the cup.

"It means I cannot speak for all your daughters," Asclepius said with a smile. "I have only seen two of them recently," he explained. "By the way, I need to remind you to bring Achlys in for an annual examination. We must monitor those Ambrosia and Nektar levels. She's a growing godling."

Nodding, Hades sipped the drink. He swallowed with a chuckle. "You don't need to remind me. I swear she's grown everytime I blink."

"I know the feeling all too well," he said, nodding. "You remember that Epione and I have five of our own. All goddesses."

Hades nodded. "It has been some time since I saw most of them, but I did see Aglaia not too long ago."

"Ah, yes, she's quite the world traveler now, isn't she?" Asclepius said with a smile. "If you see her again, make sure to tell her that her mother misses her and would appreciate her spending more time visiting us."

Taking another slow sip, Hades nodded. "Are my daughters still here?" Hades asked with a weak voice. "Can I see them?"

"Afraid not," said Asclepius, folding his arm and shaking his head. "They returned to the Underworld this morning to inform Persephone of what has happened."

"She was not told?" Hades asked with a groan.

Asclepius shook his head. "As I understand it, Hermes is away on assignment, and as for Iris... Well, that's complicated-" he said, devolving into nothing but nervous chuckles.

"What assignment?" asked Hades, raising an eyebrow.

"The crash of the Athenian airship in Sparta. He's investigating that," Asclepius explained, giving Hades the pertinent information and sharing his findings from the autopsy and his suspicions of the furies' involvement.

Epione winced and shook her head. "Why would you tell Hades that?"

"What?" asked Asclepius with a chuckle. "He needed to know and-"

"The furies are Hades' royal guard, just like Zeus' Throne Guard or Hera's harpies. You don't accuse them of misconduct without good reason."

"I had several dead bodies," said Asclepius. "Does that not merit enough?" he asked, blinking in confusion.

Epione sighed. "Of course, it's a question that needs to be asked, but you could have done so more with tact. You did not need to be so blunt."

"I'll have you know, Hades appreciated my candor," Asclepius said, nodding with a satisfied grin.

"Is that so?" asked Hades, having heard Asclepius' story and his suspicions. "Well, I do appreciate your candor and you addressing your concerns with me directly," he said, nodding. "However..." he paused to sip at his Nektar, swallowing it with a groan and a long pause. "However," he started again, "I can assure you that my furies had no part in this."

"Is that so?" asked Asclepius.

"In fact, I'm confident that I know who did," he said with a soft grin.

"Oh?"

"The harpies."

"The harpies?" Asclepius asked, biting his lip as he considered it. It did make sense.

They were just as capable as the furies, just as the Throne Guard would be. He had only dismissed them off-hand due to their zealous devotion to Hera and Zeus. Though now that he thought about that, he realized that the furies had the same adoration for Hades. They would never have done so without Hades giving the order. If there was anyone whose loyalty to the pantheon was above reproach, it was Hades. Mortals may have feared the King of the Underworld, but he was nearly universally loved and respected by the gods.

"Why would you say the harpies?" Asclepius asked.

"I found evidence of them conspiring with the heretics," Hades said, nodding slowly. "In fact, before I entered the Orchard House-"

"The Orchard House?"

Hades nodded. "Yes. The one in Thebes."

"Epione and I used to go there," Asclepius said.

"I recall," said Hades, nodding. "Persephone and I saw you two there often. We seem to have the most boring married lives, you and I. While all the other gods were busy pricking all the divine and mortal flesh on hand, the four of us would be in the parlor playing cards or speaking philosophy."

Asclepius nodded with a smile. "Aye. We're nerds."

Hades shook his head but paused and shrugged. "Maybe... but we're also romantics. We love one goddess. That's all we need."

Asclepius smirked. He wondered what Apollo or Zeus would have to say about this conversation. He thought even the likes of Hestia would have some words about how they were neither nerd nor romantic. Maybe fools was a more apt term. It did not matter; he was happy and could tell that his patient was similarly pleased.

"We married good wives," Asclepius may have said.

"That we did," Hades may have agreed.

"That did not happen," Epione said, shaking her head.

"Let me tell my story," Asclepius said with a smirk.

"Fine... What happened after you two took time to butter up your wives that were not present?"

Asclepius smiled at the patient. "Well, if what you tell me about the harpies is true, I imagine that Zeus will be in the market for a new wife," Asclepius said nervously. "Maybe we could give him some pointers on what to look for in a goddess."

"What does that mean?" asked Hades, glaring at the surgeon.

"Oh, just that Hera's been sent to Tartarus and-"

"Excuse me?!" asked an incensed Hades.

"Oh, right... You didn't know that," Asclepius sighed with his nervous chuckle. "Look, I should probably have Zeus explain that," he said as he slipped out into the corridor and gave Bia a pat on the shoulder as he slinked off.

"So you're stressed because you were the one who broke the news to Hades?" Epione asked with a confused look on her face.

"No," Asclepius shook his head. "Well, it's part of it, but I'm troubled by the idea that our queen could have betrayed us all."

"We all our, dear," said Epione with a heavy sigh. "Remember, I used to work with her. I never would have expected her to do something like this. I know everyone likes to say she's so cold and heartless, but... that's not the real her."

Asclepius nodded. "I know. I've had many... exciting conversations with the queen as her physician. I've seen every side of her that there is to see... and I know she is entirely what the rumors and legends suggest. That is what makes this especially troubling. It makes me feel the rumormongers knew her better that I did."

Epione let out a long sigh, caressing her husband's cheek with her hand and running her fingers through his beard. "That's not what truly troubles you, though."

Asclepius looked her in the eye. She was going to make him say it. She would not stop until he voiced it and confronted the grim reality he was trying to avoid. "No," he finally said with a sigh and a headshake.

His hand raised to hers, lowering it from his face. He then guided Epione to the cushions of the sofa beside him. He bit his lip as he considered shifting to the previous offer of carnal rutting right then and there. It would stall this confession a moment longer, if nothing else. That is if he could even get his prick to cooperate. The whole time his wife had straddled him, her cunny being just a few layers of cloth between his prick, he had felt nothing stir. He was not in the mood.

Standing up, Asclepius took the glass of thratch his wife had poured for him. He downed it in a long gulp. He would need all the courage he could muster for his next tale; if he had to supplement with liquid courage, so be it. He had a whole bottle at his disposal.

"It all started with Iris," Asclepius said as he prepared to down his first of many glasses. He took his first sip and continued. "She was brought in the same time as Hades. Well, shortly after. I was in surgery and could not see her. So Ilithyia and Akeso tended to her," he explained, setting the stage. "When I was out of surgery, she was asleep so I checked her chart and let her rest. I'll, uh, spare you the details of her chart."

"Thank you," said Epione with a soft smirk.

Asclepius took a sip and nodded. "But I will tell you that she had been tortured. Significantly. Starved, dehydrated, and brutalized."

"How dreadful," said Epione, pulling her legs to her chest as she sat on the sofa. Her hand brushed her lip, a gesture of comfort she had been known to utilize when she felt overwhelmed with concern for another. "Wait, what she-?" she paused, weighing the moment. "Was she raped?"

"No," said Asclepius. "There were no signs of that. Thankfully. This did not appear to have any sort of sexual motivation."

"Thank the gods for that," said Epione with a sigh of relief.

Asclepius nodded. "She was, however, stabbed. Run all the way through with a sword," he said, tapping his sternum with two fingers of his free hand. "Right here. Clear through. Must've glanced or even severed her spine in the process. Very painful."

"By an adamant sword?" asked Epione.

Shaking his head, Asclepius drank. As he lowered the glass, he shrugged. "I could not be sure. She had been ritualistically starved and deprived of Nektar and Ambrosia. Any sharp blade handled by a skilled swordsman could have inflicted the blow. It was precise and deliberate."

"How can you tell?" Epione asked.

Asclepius raised his eyebrow as he took a sip. "Must I boast?"

She giggled. "Dumb question. I'm sorry. You're good at what you do. I understand. You've plenty of experience with swords, at least with the injuries they inflict."

"Well," Asclepius began, "the odd thing about this injury was that it was not new. At least, not that I could tell."

"What does that mean?" asked Epione.

"It was a scar. Not a wound. Not a scab. It was a scar," Asclepius said. "A scar that had not been there three months ago."

Epione raised an eyebrow. "You know that, because..."

"All the gods and goddesses that work in the Haven are given annual physical examinations," Asclepius said. "Three months ago, Iris had hers. That scar was not there."

"You were looking at her chest that closely were you?" Epione asked.

Asclepius rolled his eyes and drank. As he swallowed, he shook his head. "You know the only chest I examine for pleasure is yours, dear. You can quit this false torment. It will serve you little."

Epione sighed. "You're no fun."

"You married me," he said with a brief smirk.

"So what? She has a new scar," said Epione with a shrug. "The gods do get scars on occassion."

"Not unless they've been injured by adamant, orichalcum, magic, or something else esoteric, and even then only with the most grievous injury. The only way a normal weapon leaves a scar is if they were denied Ambrosia and Nektar, which offset the healing process."

"You said that she had been tortured and deprived of nutrients," Epione reminded him.

"Yeah, but... when?" he asked. "If the injury were caused by adamant, there is no way it would have already healed, even under our care. On the other hand, if she were deprived of Ambrosia for several days, then a mortal weapon could have caused the injury, and she could heal quickly with medical care, however..." he said, pausing to sigh and sample his drink. "I asked around," said Asclepius, "and by all accounts, Iris was spending every night as far as anyone could remember in the Haven. That includes the night before she was brought to my clinic."

Epione shrugged. "I heard a rumor that Iris was seen running out of the throne room before Hypnos and Melinoë brought her into the clinic."

Asclepius nodded. "I heard the same rumor," she said, taking a drink. "In fact, while I was satisfying that curiosity, I went to ask my father for a favor."

"When you say 'father'?" she asked.

Asclepius took a deep breath. He felt his throat go dry. He drowned the ache with another long dose of thratch. "Apollo," he said after swallowing.

Epione lowered her legs and shifted her position on the sofa. Her hands gripped the arms of the furniture. "Since when do you call him father?"

Asclepius walked to the mirror hanging in the parlor of their apartment. He stared at the god in his reflection. He wondered which of his features had belonged to his mother because all he saw was some vague facsimile of Apollo looking at him. He downed the rest of his thratch in his glass, glaring at his reflection as the empty glass rattled in his trembling hand. Finally, he slowly raised his gaze, looking at the ornate molding surrounding the mirror. His eyes fixated on the stylized crest of the mirror's molding, which depicted two centaurs at play with satyrs and nymphs. His focus singled out the male centaur as a warm tear trickled down his cheek.

"Since he's the only one I have left..." he said with a tone deprived of feeling.

"What?" asked Epione, now off the sofa and rushing to her husband.

She had embraced him just as his knees buckled. His gossamer drinking glass fell to the floor and rolled away. His face found her shoulder and buried it as he let out a long, dreadful wail as she gently escorted him to the floor, his hands clutching her clothing as he began to weep and scream.

"Husband... What do you mean?" Epione asked, gripping him tightly. "What has happened? Talk to me! Tell me!"

## Characters

### Gods

* Asclepius
* Epione
* Bia
* Hades