The first hint of the headache bloomed as I’d healed Aidoneus, but by the time I stumbled back to my chamber, the slight throb had grown nauseatingly sharp. I pushed open the door and rushed to the basin of water on my dressing table, barely reaching it before the retching began.

After my stomach hollowed, the headache transformed into a pounding agony that threatened to rob me of consciousness.

Curled up in a pained ball, sleep eventually found me. By then, my body shook with fevered chills and I was grateful to fall into oblivion. But the peace of sleep did not last long.

Dark figures crowded my dreams, shapes moving through the night in an eerie fog. Pain exploded through me. The force of my sickness sent me flying up from the dark depths of illusion. Skin drenched and terribly hot, I jerked up straight and lunged for the basin. The retching began again.

On and on went an unending cycle of frightened fever dreams and unabating sickness until night bled with day and my nightmares were indistinguishable from reality.

Through my darkened, foggy vision, a male figure approached and I half-wondered if my body had given up the fight. The fog of my dreamscape cleared and I found myself standing in the center of a great hall. Infinitely larger than that of the palace, great obsidian arches stretched high above, supporting a ceiling too lofty for me to find in the deep, endless gloom.

The figure stepped closer and dread settled heavily in the hollow pit of my tortured stomach. Tall and finely built, he stalked towards me, shadows following like a bride’s train in his wake. Black hair fell in thick, shining waves past his pale face and broad shoulders. The rest of his features were hidden from brow to cheek behind a mask. White with silver filigree, a strange gaze was framed by painted, feathered black crow’s wings.

Those eyes . . . They were Aidoneus’ eyes.

But this was not the Lord of Myridia.

A hissing breath rushed past my lips and his attention flashed to my mouth. But where Aidoneus’ gaze was a molten, ever-changing silver, this male’s eyes were brittle, immutable iron.

“Am I dead?” I asked the Lord of the Underworld.

Hades smiled, revealing teeth too sharp to belong to any living male. “You?” he asked in the smoothest of baritones. “Of course not. Ares is the greatest of fools. It is a trait he breeds in his children. It would take a great deal more than Adresto’s poisons to send you to my hall, Aurora of the Dawn.”

Adresto. The Emperor. Poison. The words rang through me like the striking of a gong. The wine. “Sweetness tempers a bitter tongue,” I repeated the Emperor’s words.

“I rather appreciate a female with a viper’s tongue.” His unnerving smile widened and he offered me his arm. “A little venom certainly makes things more interesting.”

Reluctantly, I placed my hand in the crook of his elbow. Silver velvet, covered in intricate black embroidery, lay beneath my palm. The rest of the King of the Dead’s costume was no less lavish. The cut of his jacket was like nothing I’d ever seen. Lace ruffles spilled from his collar and cuffs. A black cape was draped cavalierly over his shoulder and fine black gloves covered both his hands.

As he led me further into the hall, music began. Instruments I’d never heard played, their voices slightly out of tune, their rhythm discordant.

A wave of his gloved hand sent torches flickering to life. On and on they went through the endless darkness until their light was as distant as stars. “Welcome to the Hall of the Dead.”

Dozens of faces turned to me. All masked, most were as bloodlessly pale as Hades. The males wore a similar costume, though none was as resplendent as their master’s. The females’ style of dress was even stranger. Gowns billowed around them in layers and layers of fabric. Where lace covered the males up to their throats, the female’s decolletages were cut so low that here and there I spied the pink hints of peaked breasts.

Another gesture from Hades and they turned away. As one, couples came together. Then the dance began.

“Are they . . ."—my voice faltered.

“Dead? Most of them.”

I swallowed. Unfazed, he pulled me into his arms. One gloved hand took my own and the other traveled down to my waist as he began to lead me through the unfamiliar steps of the strange dance. I glanced down, unsurprised to find I wore the same garish fashion as the other dancers. My breasts, at least, were somewhat covered beneath the black brocade.

“And the others?”

“There are a few of the older gods here. Titans who were not as lucky as your mother was in keeping her old place in this new world. I even have a few wayward Olympians, exiled for this or that.”

We spun around the hall and my eyes locked with a female who stood, arms crossed, near the obsidian wall. She was the only female among the ridiculously dressed whose gown resembled something that could have come from my own wardrobe. And around her . . . the same aura of power I remembered from the few times my mother had deigned to visit me in childhood.

The look on her marble-smooth face could have stopped a mortal’s heart cold. It was the same sharp ferocity Hades possessed. There was no question as to what she was—an Olympian.

We whirled away from the goddess’ burning glare. “You speak of the Olympians as if they are another species. Are you not an Olympian yourself?”

His upper lip pulled back, those sharp teeth of his gleaming. “You may have passed beyond the Ether, darling, but does this look like Olympus?” he said, voice soft and velvet smooth, but somehow all the more ferocious for it.

My pulse stuttered and I missed the next step in the dance. If this was a dream, it was certainly the strangest one I’d ever had.

A breath, then his features settled back into the pleasant, though utterly inhuman mask he’d greeted me with.

“This is a dream.”

“Oh, no, love. This is certainly not that.”

“Then why am I here?”

Hades spun me again, his iron gaze weighing. “While your visit was a most pleasant surprise, it is one I cannot take credit for.”

My feet stopped, pulling us both to a halt. The faces of the dead and undying turned to watch. “If you didn’t bring me here, who did?”

“Well, my golden girl, I think you did.”

“What—”

Hades cocked his head—an animal listening for a threat. “Hmm, seems our time has ended. What a pleasure it was to meet you, Daughter of the Dawn. Until next time ”

“But, wait—”

Icy hands pulled me, struggling, into the land of the living.