Free Spellcrash by Kelly McCullough

opened in the wake of her claws, and she and the spinnerette stepped through into elsewhere, leaving Hades staring at the screen. Even though I knew he couldn’t see me, his dead eyes gave me the twitchies.

    He rose from the desk then, gathering up a briefcase and some other items, before stepping out of range of the camera. Beyond his office window, the boy on the pier took two long steps and dove into the river Lethe.

CHAPTER FOUR
    The image on Melchior’s screen froze. The boy in the background of the picture hung in the air above the waters of forgetfulness, his arms out in the beginning of a swan dive. Seconds ticked past, with the boy coming no closer to the end of all memory. Then, as if nothing had happened, the video started forward again. With a great splash, he vanished from sight and self—an idea that had its appeal. Take a leisurely swim and a nice long drink of the Lethe, and you get to walk away from all of your problems forever.

    Static ripped across the screen, closing off my window into Hades before the screen went black.
    Persephone did not return. Nor did I expect her to; she’d made her message clear enough. I needed to stop Hades for my own sake as much as hers, and possibly Necessity’s as well.

    “Will you do it?” asked Thalia.

    I nodded. Persephone’s request clinched things though I’d almost certainly have gotten involved without it. If for no other reason than needing Necessity at least partially functional to get me back to Tisiphone.

    An expression of profound relief spread across Thalia’s face. “Thank you. She’s got no brakes and all the tools she needs to tear the whole universe apart.”

    “And I wouldn’t blame her for it in the least,” I answered. “If I were her, looking at that, I wouldn’t have called me. I’d have gone direct to the part where you hit the big red doomsday button.”

    Thalia lifted her brow and tilted the corner of her mouth in a way that simultaneously suggested dawning understanding and continuing confusion.

    “You know,” she said. “I might be wrong about that.”

    “Wrong about what?” Melchior returned to goblin shape to speak.

    “The part about her not having any brakes.”

    “She nearly destroyed everything!” said Melchior.

    “Oh, she didn’t have any then.” Thalia smiled. “But I think maybe she does now. She has one lone brake on her actions, a sort of personal angel that she trusts to make things right, and he’s standing right here.” She picked up her napkin and folded it into a pair of white wings, which she stuck lightly to my back before drawing a halo of golden light over my head.

    “Me?” I shook the halo free, and it dissipated. “No one in their right mind would call me an angel of any kind. That’s crazy talk.”

    “Not at all,” said Thalia. “Persephone was Hades’ prisoner and victim for thousands of years before you were even born. In all that time, the only members of the whole pantheon who ever did anything to get her out of that hell were her mother, Demeter, and, when Demeter forced him to it, Zeus. Even that was all only at the very beginning. Zeus cut the deal that got Persephone back to Demeter for nine months and left her with Hades for the other three. After that, all anyone did was say, ‘Oh, how sad,’ and go back to doing their own thing. Then along came Raven. Oh, I know you didn’t set out to help her, but you didn’t blame her for what her escape attempt did to you either.”

    “How could I? She only did what she had to do and—” Thalia’s voice rode over mine.

    “You got all the initial blame for her doomsday virus, and it nearly got you killed. Then, what did you do when you finally found out the truth? You, who had every right to hate Persephone for what she did to you? Why, you turned right around and went back to Hades, and there you offered up your life to save her from further torment.”

    “I came out of it all right.” I really hated this kind of