Goddess (Starcrossed)
be. “Okay, first question. How can I do this? How can I control the Underworld?”
“Because you have a talent in common with me, and with Morpheus and Zeus, to name a few,” he said firmly. “Each of us can make one world. I made Hades. Morpheus made the shadow lands. The Furies made the dry lands. Zeus made Olympus, and Tartarus created Tartarus eons before any of us existed. And Tartarus left the boundaries of her land open for all who share in this power, although none of us have ever seen her.”
“But what has this got to do with me?” Helen blurted out, feeling like she was in way over her head. “I’ve never made anything. I’ve never even made the honor roll.”
“You haven’t made anything yet . But you will if you choose to,” he said with a small chuckle that was hauntingly familiar. “There have been other Scions with this talent before. You call them Descenders, but that is not the correct name, really, as it only describes the allowance I made for Scions of your kind to be able to come to me for help. What help I can offer, at any rate,” he said, his voice heavy with regret. “So far, I have failed you all.”
“My kind?” Helen’s palms started to sweat. “What kind am I?”
“You are a Worldbuilder, Helen. You have the power to sculpt a land for whomever you wish to enter it. A world of your own that abides entirely by your rules. Eternal youth. Fulfillment. Or eternal trials and suffering—whatever you think will serve best.”
A thin silence wreathed around them as Helen absorbed this.
“But . . . that’s . . . just . . . terrible!” she stammered, the air knocked out of her lungs for a moment. “Have you seen my pottery? I can’t ‘sculpt’ a new world—it’ll be a disaster! Can’t you find someone who can at least draw or something?”
“I’m sorry, Helen, but the Fates do not dole out this particular talent often.” Hades smiled before he grew serious again. “In fact, there have only been two Scions before you who learned how to use the talent well enough to create their own lands, and even then those worlds only lasted a short while.”
“Who were they?”
“Morgan and Atlanta. One created Avalon, and the other Atlantis. Both their worlds dissolved into the mists or beneath the waves when their creators were defeated, but Scions remember those lands to this day. Especially Atlantis. They die for it still.”
“Wait. You’re saying that Atlantis doesn’t exist?”
“Not anymore. Every Worldbuilder must be able to defend his or her lands against any challenger. Morgan and Atlanta both lost.”
Helen sat down on the seeping wet of the damp sand, her head in her hands. She’d shouldered a lot of responsibility because she’d had no other choice, but this was beyond her.
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “I can’t do this. I’ve done a lot, but this is too much.”
“And what’s that?” Hades asked. “What can’t you do?”
Helen raised her head and regarded Hades with blank, desperate eyes. “I can’t go back to rest of the Scions and tell them that all this murdering they’ve been doing so they could get to Atlantis has been for nothing!” Her voice took on a hysterical edge. “What was all that crap from the Oracle about there being only one House left, and that ‘One House’ being the key to Atlantis? They’ve been killing each other off for decades now, and you want me to go back to them and tell them it was all a lie, that there is no Atlantis? I can’t do it!”
“It’s not a lie. Just a misinterpretation of the prophecy,” Hades said calmly. She stared up at him, numb with shock.
“That’s not good enough,” she replied in a surprisingly level voice. “You need to tell me more.”
He sat down next to her on the sand, near enough that the shadows parted a bit so she could see the bright green of his eyes and a familiar beauty mark that hung like a dark tear high on the slope of one of his perfect cheekbones.
“The prophecy has been fulfilled. The Houses are one, Helen.” Hades took her hands between both of his, cradling them in warmth. “You will raise Atlantis, or Avalon, or Helena—whatever you wish to call it—and once your world is made you can decide who may enter, who must stay or go, and how each inhabitant experiences your land. It really is all up to you.”
“That’s too much for one person,” Helen said, shaking her head like she could keep her responsibility at bay by
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