Hades And Persephone: Curse Of The Golden Arrow

by Heidi Hastings

  “I wish,” she said wistfully, “I wish that my mother could see my father again.”

  “You know that is not possible, Persephone,” he said in a soft voice.

  “I cannot bring her into Elysium. As the Queen of the Underworld, you are the only other besides me who is permitted to travel between worlds. Even as a Goddess, your mother is not able to come into the Kingdom of the Dead. My palace is the last stopping point. Only the most ancient, powerful of Gods may enter and they can only stay a short period of time.”

  She tangled her hand with his. “I know, but it is so unfair that Zeus took everything away from them.”

  “Not everything,” he replied, kissing her nose. “No more sadness now, my love. I think we should return to the house before your father finds us.”

  He helped her to dress and it took twice as long as usual, as he explored each curve and hollow before he covered it. By the time they made it back the temple she was breathless and flushed. She went into her room and she saw he had come in with her and she held out her hands, shoving him out.

  “Enough,” she cried. “I can hardly walk and I need to get dressed and ready for the day!”

  He laughed as she closed the door against him, and she leaned against the frame and could not help the wide smile that spread across her face. She loved him, she wanted to cry it out, screaming it aloud until even cursed Zeus himself heard her.

  “I love him.” She whispered it to herself, tasting the words on her lips. She decided she liked it very much, indeed.

  She dressed quickly, choosing a pink gown that was as light and airy as her joyous mood. By the time she went out to the courtyard, Hades stood with two longbows in his hand. He smiled appreciatively, watching her move closer to him.

  “Do you know how to shoot?” he asked her.

  Persephone made a derisive noise, placing both hands on her hips. “I can outshoot you.”

  A grin spread across his face. “Ah, my confident wife. Want to bet on that?”

  Taking an arrow from the quiver, she eyed him. “Let us make a bet. If I win, we come back to Elysium and have an official honeymoon -- a whole week. You will have to let Charon take over. Or perhaps, Cerberus.”

  “Oh that is tempting. If I win, however, you judge the souls tomorrow. All of them.”

  She looked at him aghast. “That is a horrible bet! Choose something else!”

  “It is what I want. Not all of us only think of going to bed, Persephone.” He gave her an angelic look and this time she actually snorted. “Now, how bad do you want that honeymoon?” He queried. “I very much want to get out of work.” His long fingers released the string of the bow and the arrow thudded hard into the bullseye.

  “Hmm, decent,” she murmured, stifling a yawn beneath her delicate hand. “You are shattering my perception of you, I thought you lived to work.” Persephone pulled the bow close to her chest, then let loose the arrow and it made a small zing as it flew straight through Hades’ shaft, slicing his wooden arrow in two.

  “I have married Eros!” he cried with mock surprise. “Beginner’s luck.”

  “It is not luck! My mother taught me, and father taught her,” she said indignantly.

  Twisting the string of his bow, he picked up another arrow. “I have a feeling your mother taught your father. Next time, remind me to ask for a lesson.” He grinned at her. “Best of three?”

  His arrow flew from the bow hitting the center of the target again, splintering her arrow.

  Persephone concentrated her aim, then shot. She let go with deadly precision, once again, cutting his arrow in two. “You are almost as good as I am,” she said, her smile sycophantic. She sobered as she saw the casual way he held the bow in his hand. This God had fought in the most vicious wars this world had known. “Did you fight with a bow in the Titanomachy?”

  “No, I was a close-range combatant.” The quiver held only two arrows, he looked to her. “You shoot first this time.”

  She drew the arrow out, taking her time to arrange her bow, but when she released it she could tell she had overcompensated and gave a sigh of disappointment as the arrow narrowly missed the bullseye. “Looks like you will have tomorrow off duty, husband.”

  “How lucky for me,” he murmured. “I am quite fatigued.” Hades placed the last arrow lazily in his bow and carelessly drew back, the arrow not even making it to the target. “Oh dear,” he said with mock distress, “I missed.”

  “You threw the game!” she hissed with indignation.

  “Did I?” He asked, a slow smile pulling his lips as he stepped towards her. “I think you overestimate my skill.” His hand slowly began to push the gown from her shoulders.

  “What are you doing!”

  “The God of the Dead always pays his debts.” And with that, he bent his head to hers.

  They fell asleep, exhausted and sated, their sweat slick bodies clinging to each other. Hours had passed, when suddenly she was jolted from sleep, the room now covered in darkness. A rustling noise had awoken her and she glanced at Hades; he was in the throes of a bad dream. He was breathing rapidly and his body thrashed beneath the covers, sweat drenching his skin. “No,” he cried, his hand was clutching the sheet so tightly she saw his knuckles whiten. Were these the same nightmares that had haunted him when she had made him drink the elixir of poppies?

  “Mother!” His voice was an agonized cry.

  “Hades,” she whispered urgently. “Wake up!” She shook his shoulder, but he remained tightly trapped in his nightmare. Closing her eyes, she opened her mind to his, willing him to listen. Wake up, she pleaded, her words a cry in her head.

  His dark eyes flashed open and he jerked out of bed, gasping for breath. She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close to her and he laid his head against her heart.

  “What did you dream of?” she inquired softly.

  For a moment all he did was breathe against her and then he finally replied, “I watched myself kill my mother again. I see her face over and over… as I plunge my blade into her and I watch her die. It plays out endlessly in my dreams -- my eternal nightmare. ” He pulled himself away from her, burying his face in his hands and she felt the shiver that ran over his broad back. “I am a murderer, a failed assassin who sent the one he loved best to her grave.” He looked at her suddenly, his hands moving to grasp hers. “I fear that I love you so much. I am cursed to lose those whom I love. I could not bear if I--”

  “Hades,” she intervened, moving closer to him. “Nothing is going to happen to me. You are innocent,” she said, brushing her lips against his. “Your mother loved you. She drove that blade into her chest, not you.”

  He dropped his head, pressing his forehead to hers. “Persephone,” he whispered, “I wonder if I am selfish to keep you here, in this darkness. I have seen where the shadows lead. My brothers’ have a blood price that is yet to be paid. Zeus will rewrite history and he will sacrifice as many innocents as necessary to come out the victor. He will not tolerate my happiness and you make me… very happy. Sooner or later, he will make his move against me. I do not want this vendetta to touch you.”

  She jerked up, pressing her fingers against his jaw, bringing his face to hers. “I am not leaving you. I will not leave you. We have not been through all of this only to be separated now. Whatever you face -- I will face it with you.”

  “I do not deserve you, my fierce Queen. You deserve a prince with a light beauty to match yours. I am afraid you only ended up with a shadowed phantom.”

  “But I am made of shadows, dark prince, and it is you who lights my soul,” she said softly. “I will not leave you.”

  “But--”

  “Hush,” she said firmly. “Let us go back to sleep, I will protect you from any bad dreams.”

  She cradled him in her arms like she would a wee babe, and to her surprise his breathing eventually slowed and she knew he slept. The hours passed, but her eyes did not close. She watched and guarded in the blackness, making sure that nothi
ng came to touch him.

  Chapter 24 - Justice For The Dead

  ◆◆◆

  Sunlight was streaming through the room and Persephone woke, reaching towards Hades, but the bed was empty next to her. She sat up and saw that a gown was spread across her dresser, and she dressed herself as hurriedly as possible, leaving the stays loose at her back. As she moved through the house, it was still and empty and she felt a pang as she realized this small reprieve was over. The doors were open and she paused as she saw Hades, his back silhouetted against the brilliant dawn. She took in the orange-pink sky, the pound of the waves against the shore, and the sweet scent of nature, locking it all into her mind. A chill of foreboding told her to keep this memory close, and she shivered in the warm morning air. The Fates had said that she would want to stay, but that she would not. But, wasn’t that her choice to make? She wanted to stay.

  Hades turned towards her suddenly and his face was composed, no trace remained of the nightmares that had haunted him. “You look lovely this morning,” his voice was caressing as he took her hand. “We must go I am afraid. I sent the horses back earlier so we will take the river.”

  “Can I not say goodbye to my father?” she asked.

  He shook his head. “We will return here soon. I wrote him, letting him know we had to depart. I have left my responsibilities for too long. I suppose I allowed myself to be most pleasantly distracted,” he finished with a smile.

  “I suppose you did,” she replied. “And I wish I could say that I was sorry, but I am not. Promise me we will come back here?”

  “I promise. Come, my Queen.” He led her down to the seashore, and further from the temple there was a dock where an elegant boat waited. He helped his wife down into the craft and jumped in after her. Lifting a large oar, he began to push the small craft through the sparkling waters.

  “Could you not use magic to take us there?” she inquired.

  “Ah yes, but I enjoy the simple life here, remember wife?” he answered.

  She laughed, letting her fingers dangle in the warm waves, the sunshine dancing across her face. A cave appeared near the shoreline and Persephone was not surprised to see him heading towards it. It seemed her destiny to end up in the dreaded, dark caverns, and she kept silent as they drew nearer. She held her breath, preparing herself for the suffocating blackness, but as they entered, she looked up in awe. The caverns sparkled with thousands of pale blue lights that shimmered and lit their way down through the narrow passage.

  “It is magical!” Persephone exclaimed.

  “They are glow worms. Beautiful little creatures, are they not?”

  She glanced at her husband, as he looked up fondly at the glowing lights. “Yes, beautiful.”

  “We are almost there,” he continued, smiling down at her.

  Dread pitted her stomach at the thought of returning, but she forced a smile on her lips. Things would be different now at the palace, she assured herself. The curse was over and she would not let memories of that time corrupt their future. The shore appeared and Hades docked the boat in a little cove, securing the craft with surprising efficiency. She began to stand, but he moved swiftly, taking the seat next to her own. His large body was pressed against hers and he leaned back, bringing her to lay over him, so that they looked up at the mysterious blue lights.

  “Just a little while longer,” he murmured against her neck. “Let us just pretend we are two young lovers looking up at the night sky. No responsibilities except to ourselves.”

  The blue light flickered over his face, lovingly shaping his high cheekbones, straight nose, and perfect, full lips. How I love him, she thought, and she felt the ridiculous prickle of tears against her eyes. Why did this sense of doom always seem to hover at the edge of her life?

  “Are we not young lovers?” she retorted with a glare, hoping that he would not notice her sudden melancholy.

  “You are young,” he replied, laughing. She felt dampness on her cheeks and she lifted a hand to her face, but he reached for it too, wiping small white, crystals from her skin. His gaze narrowed as they melted on his fingertips.

  “Snow,” he muttered. “Something is wrong.” He pulled her to her feet, wrapping his cape around her, his long fingers securing it around her neck. “Come. We will go the rest of the way on foot.” As they hurried out of the cave, Persephone saw that chunks of ice were pushing into its entrance and the river was beginning to freeze over. They stepped from the cave and she gasped. It was a blizzard outside and the wind whipped wildly around them stealing the breath from her chest. Hades strode to the main docks of the river and she saw the Judges were waiting.

  They gave a gasp of relief as they saw him, their long robes flying behind them as they hurried to the King. “My lord,” Minos cried. “The upper world is covered in ice and the death toll is mounting. We are behind schedule with sorting. A tragedy seems to have befallen the world above and the souls are demanding retribution for their unjust deaths. I fear we have a rebellion on our hands. The rivers are frozen and Charon can barely ferry the souls across.” His eyes drifted to Persephone and his face twisted with animosity, the hostility so ripe in his gaze that Persephone gave a small gasp. “I fear you have been preoccupied, my King. Never before have I seen such anarchy in these halls. I cannot help but to attribute it to certain changes that have recently occurred here.”

  Hades grasped Persephone’s hand tightly in his hand, taking a step closer to the Judge. “You think to blame my wife?” he questioned with anger, his voice a lethal whisper in the wind. “I left for several days, as I have done in the past, and return to find chaos in my Kingdom. If you cannot manage to maintain stability in my absence I wonder if I need you at all? And if you look, or speak to your Queen in such a way again, you will do so without your eyes and your tongue in the future. Now leave me!” Minos’ face had turned pale and he turned and rushed out hurriedly, the others falling into step behind him. “I will take you to your rooms,” he said, pulling her quickly beside him. “You will stay there until I sort this out.”

  “What?” she cried, pulling against his grasp. “No, I should come with you! I should help you sort them. If there is a riot, you will need my help.”

  “I forbid it,” he hissed out between his teeth. They crossed the threshold into the palace and Hades bellowed, “Phoebe!” The handmaiden appeared, running hurriedly down the halls. “Take your Queen to her room,” he ordered.

  Persephone grasped his arm tightly, angry at his dismal. “I am the Queen!” she seethed, looking up into his face, the veil of coldness firmly back in place. “I will not be pushed away. There are two thrones and I am supposed to sit on one of them. My place is at your side.”

  “Today it is not,” he replied coldly. “These souls are angry and I do not yet know what is happening or what the Judges have said to them. If they have tried to place blame with you, the sight of your face could incite dissension. Stay here where you are safe and let me deal with this today.”

  He gave Phoebe a nod and turned his back on her, his footsteps soundless as he moved down the marbled halls. The sounds of muffled, raised voices increased as he approached the throne room. Hades pushed open the doors and paused as he took in the crowded room, hundreds of angry faces turned towards him. He allowed none of his shock to show, keeping his face a blank mask and their voices quieted as he strode towards his throne. Sullen, furious eyes followed him as he crossed the large room. He sat slowly, eyeing the dead when the doors opened suddenly and Persephone stepped into the hall.

  The cries of the mob were deafening as they hissed at her. A chant was rising and Hades realized in horror what they were saying.

  “Murderess.” A rock was hurled through the crowd, hitting her face, and she gave a small cry of pain.

  Hades took a moment to locate the man who had thrown the stone before fury caused his vision to blur, and he lifted his hands, throwing the bodies away from her, the floor quivering with the force of his rage. He rose from the throne,
his hands lifted as purple fire arced between his fingers.

  “Touch her again and I will rip your souls apart until you are little more than cinder on this floor.” His voice was a deadly whisper as he walked towards Persephone. He raised his hand against her cheek, his fingers brushing away any trace of pain from her skin.

  “Her mother murdered us because she is here!” An anonymous voice called out from the crowd. “She as good as killed us. And here she sits on the throne while we starved and froze to death! She should burn!” The crowd began to become louder and Hades could feel them pressing closer, their faces filled with loathing. Persephone tried to step closer to the crowd and he could see she meant to comfort them. Hades knew that they would as soon rip her body to pieces as listen to her words. He pulled her behind him.

  “You think to dictate to me,” he said in a low voice. “I welcome you into my Kingdom as guests and it makes you greedy and gluttonous and demanding. Your Queen is blameless. I am the reason for your deaths. I took Demeter's daughter against her will. Demeter grieves for her child - neither of them are responsible.”

  “She is the one who brought this upon us!”

  “Throw her in Tartarus. Send us back above!”

  The mob’s chants rose to a thunderous roar, the hundreds of cries and curses merging together until the last ounce of Hades’ patience drained away. Tilting his head back, he let the words tumble from his lips, “Mors omnibus.” The whispered phrase echoed loudly through the hall, ending with a hiss as the room was plunged into darkness.

  Persephone reached for Hades but she was rooted in place. She felt a soft touch against her face as an insidious silence trickled through the room, a heaviness that covered the air. Suddenly the room was immersed in a brilliant purple light, the violet hues seeming to emanate from Hades’ skin as he levitated from the ground. The flesh around his eyes was black and his irises glowed crimson, veins etched onto his flesh. He opened his mouth and the voice of death poured from his lips. “Mors tua, vita mea. Do you forget to whom you speak? I am death. I am King of the Damned, the Infernal; I have been known by many names. You can die once or you can die a thousand deaths. Your souls will empower mine.” His feet returned to the ground and he took a step closer to the crowd, smiling, his canines sharp and extended. A hiss filled the room and he lifted his hand, as a doorway opened in the floor. The door flung back and tormented cries of misery echoed from the gaping blackness. With a wave of his hand, the man who had thrown the stone was lifted from the ground and thrown into the pit of darkness. Flames burst from the depths as his body disappeared over the edge and a cry of agony was quickly cut off as the door slammed shut again. He turned back to the crowd.