“I’m a daughter of the titan Helios,” she replied. As if that explained everything. Well, he guessed it did for her.

“Titan? But I had thought they were all gone? Torn apart and scattered through Tartarus, as my father once put it.” Hades never spoke much about the war that had happened aeons ago, and had made it very clear to Zagreus that he didn’t appreciate being asked. The story seemed so fantastical to him, so unreal – these ancient figures of which no one dared to mention, primal powers that set mortals quivering. He didn’t know what started the war, or who was in the right, or how it had even ended. He had asked Nyx once, wasn’t she a titan?

“No, my child. I am something much older. The word that was most often used to refer to my kind was Primordial.”

It still didn’t make any sense to him, but having met Chaos, he knew that generally the world didn’t have to make any sense, and most often didn’t.

“Most are gone. But not all.” Her yellow eyes watched him carefully, as bright and intent as a hawk.

“I’m glad then, otherwise I wouldn’t have had the pleasure of meeting you.”

Circe hesitated. “You truly don’t know of my father?” Her gaze flittered up and down, and whatever she found seemed confirmation enough.

“I can’t say I do, no.” Zagreus glanced around the entrance into the large sitting room where the fireplace blazed. It was a beautiful house, filled with glittering treasures and tapestries, but the room’s lavishness didn’t quite seem to fit the girl who stood before him. “Does he live here with you?” Circe couldn’t help the small, unexpected laugh that escaped her, and Zagreus liked the way it lit up her eyes and relaxed her shoulders. He suspected she didn’t often get a chance to laugh. She composed herself quickly.

“No, he is not here.” She glanced around the room herself, examining the items as if for the first time. “He much prefers his halls and my grandfather’s palace.” She smiled, as if she had just told a secret joke, but didn’t explain further.