Olive trees and waving fields become a blur of green below us. I've waited all these months; I can't wait any longer.

   "Faster, Hermes," I say. "Faster."

   Hermes shrugs, but Abastor hears me and twitches his ears—beautiful Abastor, eager to bring me home—and then his muscular neck is stretching out farther; his wings picking up their pace. The other horses immediately follow suit. Wind sings past my cheeks, strokes my bare arms.

   Hermes' knuckles tighten around the reins. He throws me a look, but a quick one; the surging horses take all his attention.

   Now rocky land, now beach, now ocean spreading out below, blue beneath the bright blue sky. Near shore, boats ply the waves, but soon we're beyond where even the bravest mortals go. There's nothing now but endless blue, ocean and sky merging into one seamless whole. I strain my eyes over the infinite sameness, searching.

   Then suddenly, there it is: a thin line splitting the universe in two.

   We fly lower and the line thickens, takes on the weight and form of land. That's the Styx below us now, and Charon, a tiny figure in a sailor's cap, waving up from its banks.

   I've almost stopped breathing. Where is Hades? In the palace? The stables? And then I see him, pacing by the oak tree on the hill below my garden, his purple cloak whipping with each turn—

   "There!" I cry, but I didn't need to say anything; Abastor already knows, and we're slowing, circling, landing in a flap of wings and clatter of hooves.

   Hades strides toward the chariot, but I can't wait. I leap out, into his arms, and home.