A pang of guilt uncoils inside Redana. How could you take someone away from something this beautiful? “It’s lovely here.” Yes, that’s right: and if you convince Epistia to leave with you, you’re putting it all in danger. Look closely at the houses, princess: see the stones set about the mantel? Opals the size of your fist, rubies shaped like pomegranates, diamonds for door-knockers. Flowers bloom everywhere, the sound of rushing water is all around, and even if she can’t stay... “Hades, Keeper of Stones, your blessings are grand. The work of your hands is that which men remember.” A simple prayer, an offering of praise. If this is what Elysium will be like, she can understand why the Ceronians would risk their lives in battle. This is a paradise.

But no paradise can survive a locked door. And there are so many things that she hasn’t seen, and Epistia never has! Her heart settles back into its course, grateful that she does not have to consider turning aside and risking the violation of her oath.

When she offers freedom, Epistia will smile. When she does that, she has to follow through, or what good is she? She has to let Epistia see the stars[1].

And also she needs to let Epistia learn about other gods. This is [i]disastrous.[/i] How do the Ceronians have good counsel if they do not offer praise to Zeus? How can they see their relationships thrive without the eye of Aphrodite and Hera? And Athena... well, a situation like this is exactly why you need to sacrifice to Athena regularly.

Jas’o. Down the hill, over her shoulder, she can see his squat, ugly shuttle at the end of a trail of ruined, smouldering crops. “Can we hurry? Your story is lovely,” she says, reaching out and brushing her fingers against the Assistant Secretary’s slick skin, “But the longer I’m here, the more danger everyone is in from the peacock who just showed up. I’m sure an accomplished public servant like yourself knows how to do things quickly, so please... let’s hurry and meet Epistia!”

***

[1]: a thought she has the good sense to bury whispers to her that Poseidon’s stars shine brighter than the greatest of Hades’ jewels. A thought like that never ends well.