Smoke & Mirrors

This is dedicated to SashaBug, Nacaza, Samantha, and to all those who commented and subscribed to A Hall of Mirrors. Your support has fueled me and my writing, which is probably why I couldn’t wait to share with you this book. If you have been waiting for the sequel, thank them.  The announcement arrived for the Lord of the Underworld via the god’s official, slightly annoying, and very self-important courier. As the God of Messengers, Hermes had the famous privilege to traipse around anywhere he wanted with very little consequence to suffer through. It was convenient for him. Utterly. And the job came with really cool perks, such as getting first dibs at the hottest news and juicy tidbits before he whispered it in the right ear and they blew up on social media.  Hermes swaggered into the dark palace, whistling a merry tune with lyrics that were probably not meant for young ears. He took the stairs one step at a time, winking at the pretty wraiths that he passed until he found the lord of the realm’s office at the end of one of his myriad halls. He frowned at the door, weighing whether he should be polite and knock first or not. It was not a very difficult decision. The god flicked the door open and strolled in uninvited, hiding his smirk as the dark-haired, brooding deity stood in defense at the sudden entry. “Hermes,” growled Hades darkly, not quite vanishing the dark mist of pure energy that grew behind him like smoke. “Are you asking to get thrown into Tartarus?” The winged god rolled his eyes, promptly plopping down on one of the many comfortable couches littered about in the room. “Now, now,” he sang. “Who would deliver your message from your lovely brother up in the heavens if you throw me into that cesspit of fiery blech?” The way Hades’ features hardened gave way to Hermes’ wide grin. “What did my brother have to say?” Hermes smirked, and deciding not to play with his food, said, “You got a court date.”