Page 103 of Deathless
Three days had passed since Kiev. Three days of medical exams, debriefs, questions that circled the same drain. I learned, hour by hour, how to be a father to a daughter who flinched at loud noises and arranged her stuffed animals like sentries on the perimeter of her bed. Diego moved through the compound with his arm in a sling, making coffee one-handed, teaching Mila chess, checking my bandages when he thought I was asleep.
I climbed the stairs to the roof, already pulling the pack from my pocket. The sun had dropped below the horizon, leaving the sky the color of a fresh bruise. The roof was mine at this hour. Everyone knew it.
Except tonight, Rhadamanthys sat on the edge facing west, his silhouette unmistakable. The black Stetson cast a shadow over his face. He tensed when I stepped onto the gravel but kept his eyes on the horizon.
I almost turned around. But this was my roof and my time, and I'd spent enough years giving ground.
I crossed the rooftop and lit my cigarette. The first drag tasted like coming home.
"Judge," I said.
"Hephaestus."
"It's Jasper now."
"Is it?" He turned his head. "I wonder if names are that easy to shed."
I sat a few feet away from him, legs over the edge. The compound spread out below us. Workers cleared rubble from the east wing. Lights came on in the windows.
"I wasn't expecting company," I said.
"I can leave."
"Free roof."
He gave a small nod and turned back to the horizon. We sat in silence, me smoking, him staring into the darkness swallowing the landscape. Neither of us needed to fill it. The Pantheon beat that out of you early.
"Any news on Hades?" I asked.
Rhadamanthys stared at the horizon. "Nevada thinks he might be back in the states. Maybe Mexico." He looked over at me. "The girl. Eight. She's adjusting?"
"Mila," I corrected. "Her name is Mila."
He inclined his head. "Mila, then."
I took another drag. "She's resilient."
"Zeus trained her well."
"Too well."
"There's no such thing."
I looked at him. "She's nine."
"She's alive." His voice stayed flat. "In our world, that's the only metric."
I blew out a long stream of smoke. "You think Hades is alive?"
Rhadamanthys unscrewed the flask and took a long drink. "I hope so."
“And if he isn’t?”
“Either way, Zeus is a dead man,” he said. “The only difference is how many people I have to kill to get to him.”
He offered the flask. I took it. The whiskey burned down my throat and sat warm in my chest.
"I never thought I'd see it," Rhadamanthys said after a stretch.
