Bride of Death

by Celina Summers

  “You must go,” he said gently, his eyes fixed desperately on her face. “But know that I will love you throughout all the ages of man.”

  “Hades, I — ”

  “Go,” he ordered harshly. He dropped her hands. When she didn’t move, he gave her a small push in Demeter’s direction.

  “Forgive me,” a voice interrupted, “but the Queen cannot leave the Underworld.” The gardener Ascalaphos stepped forward from the immortals at the back of the room and bowed to the stunned Olympians.

  It was her cue.

  Persephone whirled toward Ascalaphos, her eyes blazing in sudden anger. “What did you say, you groveling sneak?”

  “Forgive me, my lady,” Ascalaphos said, a sneer in his voice as he fell to his knees. “But yesterday afternoon, I watched you in Lord Hades’ orchard. I hid behind a tree and saw you pluck seeds from a pomegranate and put them in your mouth. Seven seeds did you eat before you tossed the rest of the fruit on the ground, and this I do swear by the Styx. You have eaten the food of the death, my Queen, and by the laws established by the Fates, you cannot depart the Underworld.”

  The throne room erupted into chaos. Persephone stood very still, staring in assumed anger at the immortal who’d just betrayed her secret. This was the only way she could think of to make her mother drop her revenge. If it became accidentally Persephone’s fault, if she’d condemned herself to Hades out of ignorance, surely her mother would relent?

  Demeter cried out in anguish, dropping her face into her hands. Hades, on the other hand, was quick to react. He stepped to Persephone’s side, pulling her against his body with possessive elation.

  “She is mine!” he exclaimed triumphantly. “She cannot leave my side by our own laws — the laws we have all agreed to uphold. Even you, Demeter, swore by the Styx to abide by the restrictions the Fates have placed upon us. Persephone has eaten the food of the dead. Under our laws, she is bound to me for eternity!”

  “Then eternity will end quickly!” Demeter shouted. “For I will burn the mortal realm to a crisp.”

  “Mother, don’t — ” Persephone begged, but tumult broke out in the throne room. Every immortal present had something to say and Persephone was drowned out.

  “Silence!” Zeus bellowed, and Olympus trembled. Obediently, the immortals subsided. Zeus glared at his daughter fiercely. “Did you marry Hades freely?”

  “I did.” Persephone stood, small but defiant, before him and did not shrink away.

  “So.” Zeus sat back on his throne. “You are willing to return to Demeter still?”

  “I would not be a goddess of your get if I did not remember always our responsibility to the humans on the mortal realm.” “And you, Demeter, will accept nothing but the restoration of your daughter?” Zeus asked.

  “No, I will not.” Demeter’s eyes, so like her daughter’s, were angry and glittering. “Especially not to this dealer of Death.”

  Hades didn’t bother to look at Demeter; all his attention was for his brother. Zeus glared and opened his mouth to say something, but Hades cut him off. “It would not be meet for our King to be foresworn, would it brother?” He smiled lazily, but there was something about his stance that warned Persephone he had some other purpose in mind. His hand clenched convulsively at his side, as if he were waiting for something.

  “That is quite enough,” Zeus said wearily. “Persephone, come here.”

  Obediently, Persephone came to stand at the very foot of her father’s throne. He looked down on her, his expression grim. “How many pomegranate seeds did she eat, gardener?”

  “Seven,” Ascalaphos reported.

  “Then here is my judgment. The marriage of Hades to Persephone is upheld, as per my sworn word and the desire of my daughter. She will remain his wife and Queen of the Underworld. However, since she only ate seven seeds of the pomegranate, she will remain in the Underworld for seven months.” Zeus glanced at Demeter. “The other five she will spend with her mother, tending to the world that has been punished as a result of her departure.”

  “But — ” Persephone began.

  “That is my decree!” Zeus thundered. Olympus trembled again and Persephone subsided. “This is the only way to appease everyone and uphold my word. Hades, do you agree?”

  Oh no. I have failed! Persephone swallowed miserably as tears rose up to sting against her lids.

  Hades hesitated. He glanced at his wife, who could barely look at him so consumed was she with guilt and grief. The god’s face stilled, taking on that grim immobility he’d had before he had taken Persephone to share his bed. “I do.”

  “Demeter?”

  The goddess bowed her head and whispered, “I do.”

  “And you, my daughter? What say you?” Zeus asked, his eyes suddenly twinkling with good humor.

  Persephone couldn’t look at him. “Do I have a choice?”

  “No.”

  “Then why bother asking me what I think?” she demanded and glared up at him from beneath her wet lashes.

  Zeus tried to look stern. “Because you must agree in order for the deal to be struck. And also to teach you a lesson. You have orchestrated this day beautifully, daughter. Too beautifully. You will learn not to be as careless next time, won’t you?”

  She scowled. She hadn’t associated the seeds with months. Ascalaphos winced and shrank back into the crowd. Persephone’s shoulders drooped and she murmured. “Fine. I agree.” She turned to Ascalaphos. “But you, teller of tales, will screech forever as a reminder of my wrath.”

  Ascalaphos turned for the door, apparently trying to flee. Persephone sent her power — the new power of the Underworld’s Queen — flying after him. As the gathered immortals watched, Ascalaphos’ body suddenly shrank and lifted from the floor. Long golden-brown feathers covered his body; his legs dwindled and shriveled into his torso and his arms suddenly curved into long wings. The screech owl gave a single piercing shriek and flew from the great hall, disappearing into the broad expanse of blue sky.

  “Good!” Zeus rose from his throne and took her hand in his. He gestured for Hades to join him and stared at Demeter until she came to his side. “Let all Olympus rejoice! My well-beloved daughter, Persephone, has wed Hades and is Queen of the Underworld! Let the celebration begin!”

  He put Persephone’s hand in Hades’ ceremoniously and Persephone’s friends rushed up to congratulate her. For a moment, she let her happiness overwhelm her. She had won the right to remain with her husband.

  But she had also lost. For five months of every twelve, she would be forced to remain on Olympus in her mother’s house. It was a victory for everyone but her.

  She had failed.

  Persephone looked up at her husband and smiled. Hades’ expression softened and he bent to kiss her. Around them, the immortals rejoiced.

  Epilogue

  PERSEPHONE SIGHED AS SHE brushed her hair. Her reflection looked different now, but she didn’t care. She’d tried everything she could think of to save her marriage and in the end, she had failed. Five months without Hades? Even if he came to see her on Olympus, it wouldn’t be the same. She’d be forced to live apart for him for five months.

  It wasn’t fair.

  Her mother, gloating over the fact that she would have Persephone for part of the year, had informed her that she would teach her to be the goddess of spring and to nurture new life on the mortal realm.

  But that wasn’t what she’d wanted. She wanted to stay with her husband in the Underworld, not to be lonely and depressed on Olympus.

  “Why so discontented, my love?” Hades leaned in the doorway, watching his wife. This palace was more like what Persephone was accustomed to, despite the black marble. The rooms were large and airy, with great windows open to the always comfortable winds of Zephyrus as he wound his way around Olympus. The furnishings were rich and comfortable. Invisible servants hovered near to fulfill any god’s wishes immediately. She bit her lip and turned to him. He’d laid aside his regalia as the god of Death. He
looked handsome and wicked as his dark eyes lingered on her. Her body warmed in response. He also looked kind and understanding. Persephone knew she could tell Hades anything and he would try to help her.

  “I am sorry, Hades. I meant to make certain that no one could take me from you. If I had known it would be this way, I would have eaten the whole pomegranate. I wouldn’t have stopped at just seven seeds.” She sniffled, dropped her head and finished, “I failed you. I’m sorry.”

  “Failed me?” Hades sounded puzzled. He came to her side and stood over her. “Is that what you think?”

  “What else am I supposed to think?” she asked softly.

  Much to her surprise, Hades laughed. He lifted her from the chair easily. Cradling her against his chest, he carried her to the bed, laughing all the while.

  “What’s so funny?” she asked, offended.

  “Persephone, my love — you didn’t fail. You convinced your mother to accept a compromise and an empty one at that. So five months of the year you must live in your mother’s house? For those five months, I will live in my house on Olympus. I will stay here while you pursue your duties with her. We won’t be parted, really; not in the slightest. Then, when those five months are over, we will return to the Underworld and no one will intrude upon our happiness there.” He shrugged, his dark face lit with suppressed mirth. “What will your mother do when I arrive in my own house on Olympus at the same time as you?”

  Persephone stared at him. “What?”

  Hades kissed her. “Nothing, my love. So you see, you didn’t fail at all. I do not mind spending part of my time on Olympus as long as you are here. And your mother, who will be gladdened at the sight of you, may get over her anger at the match in time. You can have both your worlds, Persephone, and share them with me.”

  She lifted her lips to his as he kissed her and happiness flowered in her breast. Hades laughed again and turned his attention to the fastenings of her gown.

  Persephone laughed in mingled joy and relief. As her husband’s arms tightened about her, she allowed her worry to slip away. No matter what anyone said, she was Hades’ wife and would remain so as long as Olympus and the Underworld endured.

  “You are a lucky bastard,” Pan said wryly as he and Eros wandered down the road from Olympus to the mortal realm.

  Eros laughed, his wings fluttering. “I am lucky. I must have been born under a fortunate star.”

  “Or an evil one.”

  “Why would you say that?”

  “You cause more misery than Hades does with his dark realm.”

  “Not so dark anymore,” Eros noted, glancing over his shoulder at Hades’ black marble palace on the hill. “There is at least one beautiful light in his halls now.”

  Pan snorted. “Yes, and if Persephone hadn’t thought quickly, we both would have been there for eternity to watch that ‘one bright light,’” he mimicked.

  Eros didn’t seem upset at the prospect. “You aren’t going to wish the newlyweds well?”

  “Now? Are you insane? They’ve won — for the most part — and the last thing they want is an unwanted guest. No, I thought I’d go to Earth for a while and see if I can find something to do.”

  “Can I go too?”

  Pan looked at him suspiciously. The winged god’s face shone with innocence. “All right,” he said gruffly. “But only for a little while and by the Styx! Don’t cause any more trouble!”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it,” Eros winked at him. Pan grimaced. Completely at ease with each other, the two gods wandered down to the mortal realm, pleased with themselves.