they were deep in discussion with Hades. Their attention, I noted, rested solely on a man before them. A man dressed in a red robe with oiled hair. In his hand he held a beautifully ornate lyre. Though it was not his hair or instrument that caused me to stifle a gasp as I reached beside me and grabbed Hecate’s hand, it was his opacity.
ORPHEUS!! ORPHEUS!!
