Persephone’s mouth went agape. “Her… My mother’s what?!”
Demeter’s policy of keeping Persephone ignorant had stopped surprising Aidoneus a while ago, but this instance didn’t stop him from shaking his head at the injustice done to his wife. “Some years after you were born, a mortal farmer came across the shores of the Styx with stories about Demeter, and an infant goddess named Kore. His name was Iasion— a very skilled farmer, in truth. The greatest mankind had produced in those early days. Zeus had caught them… coupling… and struck Iasion down as he lay beside your mother. He died instantly— he didn’t even know what happened.”
“Why would Zeus do such a thing?” she said, horrified. “He’d already abandoned my mother! Why couldn’t he just leave us alone and let her be happy?”
Aidon pursed his lips. “Because he still loved her, in his own selfish, foolish way. He sought an alliance with Hera because she was a better match. And that was the most frustrating thing for me. I always knew that Hera was a better choice for him, but what could I have told your mother? Hera was craftier, more influential— clever in all the ways Zeus wasn’t, and they complemented each other perfectly. But that didn’t mean he loved Demeter any less.”
Persephone scowled, angry, wishing she could have known at least something about Iasion, this singular man who had never caused her mother any grief. She also puzzled at why her mother hadn’t made her lover immortal— especially when he had given her so much joy.
“After I learned what I could from Iasion,” Aidon continued, “his shade drank from the Lethe and was at peace in Asphodel, his name forgotten. But I could see what manner of man he was. He was too valuable to the world above to languish below, and when the time was right, after mankind regained Prometheus’s fire, I returned him to the mortal world. Before he left, I did something I had never done before, and had his shade drink from the Mnemosyne before departing.”
Persephone shivered, remembering the flood of memories when she’d sipped a few drops of the Mnemosyne. “What happens to shades when they drink from it?”
“The Pool of Memories gives them a chance to recall fragments of their previous life when they return. It would be a dangerous thing to give mortals all their memories back; they would go mad. I’ve only allowed rare souls the privilege. Iasion had more to do, more to teach to his kind… but another part of me…”
She held his hand, tracing the lines on his palm.
“…I had hoped that when his soul returned it would find Demeter, somehow. Give her some happiness, be it as a friend or lover.”
“Aidon, why didn’t you ever tell my mother this?”
He clenched his teeth together. “Hermes was not yet born. Without the Messenger of the Gods, I had no way to tell her, short of rising out of the earth myself, which our pact forbade me to do. I later learned my efforts were for naught. Demeter had long since made her home in Nysa, where mortals cannot go. The shade returned across the Styx after a full life. She had been a mother of six, a grandmother of twenty. She milled wheat, baked bread with her husband, and bartered it at market. Her whole village mourned her death and buried simple, tender gifts for her to carry here with her. I was glad for it, but didn’t interfere with Iasion’s soul again.”
Persephone shifted and sat across from him, holding his hands. “This is why I wish there was something we could do for souls such as Iasion’s. A way for them to keep their memories, to rest, to be rewarded for a life well lived.”
“Sweet one, I only have what I was given when I came here, and this order existed well before you and I, before the current race of mortals even came into being. There is Asphodel, and there is Tartarus. It would be a torment for shades to walk the Fields with memories of their lives— imagine when they meet those they knew and loved, stripped of everything that made them alive. That fate serves as a temporary punishment for the shades that stand at the Cocytus, and eternal agony for those in Tartarus.”
Persephone bit the inside of her lip while she digested his rebuttal, helplessly sympathizing with those noble souls trapped by aeons of tradition. She lifted her feet onto the divan. “Will Thanatos be all right?”
“He already left to hunt down Sisyphus.”
“But he was seriously injured! Why did you send him?”
“I didn’t,” Aidon said, pulling away. “Hypnos told me this morning that his brother left in the middle of the night.”
“I didn’t mean to sound accusatory, Aidon,” she said. “How did they capture Sisyphus in the first place?”
“He was in Chios, and they snared him in the Chains while he was—” Hades stopped cold and stood up, his mind turning. He paced across the floor of their antechamber. “Gods…”
“Aidon?”
“That… gios enos kakodaimonos suagroi…” he snarled, cursing in the common tongue.
“Aidon!” she said incredulously, scrunching her nose in surprise at his profanity.
“I don’t know how I didn’t see it before!” He turned to her, eyes alight with new understanding. “Everything happening in the world above… it largely rests at your mother’s feet, but he’s been exploiting and worsening it! That’s why he was going from city to city, priestess to priestess… I knew this couldn’t be all Demeter’s doing…”
“What do you mean?”
“The earth has ways of restoring itself, with or without Demeter. She is not the only one watching over the earth. There’s Gaia, Rhea… It could not have become this bad unless there was something else at work. And the something else is Sisyphus! He’s been using the wise women who’ve been trying to restore the earth to sap its vitality even faster.”
“How?”
“The hieros gamos,” he said, sitting down again. “The mortals’ version of it, at least. What Hecate and others have taught the nymphs and mortals is that they are surrendering themselves to creation, distilling the primordial energy of the earth and returning it to their fields and villages. Sisyphus was using them to steal that for himself! With all he’d amassed before coming here, he was able to escape. And since the Olympians barely keep to the old ways, he’s been able to do this right under their noses!”
“But why would he purposefully get caught, come down here and steal the Chains?”
“It was all in what he said…all I dismissed as delusion. He means to overthrow Olympus. He had the last Book of Tantalus, for Fates’ sake… Seeking immortality, seeking the means to bind the gods themselves…” he brushed his hand back through his hair and began pacing again. “He sees himself as a damned hero…”
“But he wouldn’t have been able to do any of this if my mother weren’t…”
Aidon thinned his lips and looked down.
“Aidoneus, we have to do something. You and I—”
“How? We have no say over the world above. Zeus will speak to Dem—”
“My father isn’t going to convince her of anything!” she said, wrinkling her brow.
“You didn’t know them together as I knew them. She will listen to him.”
“She will not! You don’t know them now, Aidon. Zeus was the one who consented to give me to you in marriage. If she was going to bend to his will, she already would have. Do you honestly think Zeus has the power to convince her to do anything?”
He put his head in his hands, his fingers pulling back through his hair. Aidoneus shook his head. “Then what should I do?”
They will look to you, Aristi Chthonia, for guidance…
“Are you looking for advice?” she said cautiously. “Or are you just curious about my opinion, as you were with the fate of mortals who had led good lives?”
“No, Persephone. I am legitimately seeking your counsel. I’m lost,” he said. Lines appeared on his forehead, and he met her eyes again, his expression filled with pain and uncertainty. She knew he would never allow anyone else to see him like this. Persephone wanted to wrap her arms around him, but she fought to stay where she was and listen without distraction. His voice wave
red. “What Demeter wants is untenable. This world needs you too much. I need you. I cannot give her what she desires. I’m lost. I didn’t ask for the weight of this to fall on us.”
Persephone nodded. “I must go, Aidon.”
He looked up and felt his heart nearly stop. He had always sworn to himself that he would let Persephone go if she asked it of him. And now the fate of the world hung over their heads. It was the rational thing to do; a decision Aidoneus would have made himself— before she had awakened everything within him. He tried to speak around the lump in his throat, to calm himself. Showing his distress would only make it harder for her. “Back to Demeter…”
Persephone watched him heroically try to mask his panic, but she could sense what he feared— that she was about to leave him forever for the sake of the mortals. “Not back to her, Aidoneus. I need to tell her that I’ve made my choice. That it’s mine to make,” she said, and saw faint hope flicker in his eyes.
“If you do this, it cannot seem as though I’m exerting any influence over you.”
“Then I need to go to her alone.” Tell him.
“What will you say?”
“I will tell her that this has gone too far, that too many have suffered. I’ll say that she can come visit us whenever she chooses, and I can see her when it doesn’t interfere with my duties as Queen.” It’s time, Persephone thought. “I’ll say that I need her acceptance. I am married. I am Queen of the Underworld. She needs to understand that you are my husband.” Tell him. “That it’s not just duty that keeps me, but that I choose to stay with you.”
He stared at her as she took a deep breath, her heart beating out of her chest.
“And I choose to stay with you because… I love you.”
“You—”
“I love you, Aidoneus.”
Aidon expected to feel a change once he finally heard her say it. Perhaps he did— a sensation of everything clicking into place, a sweeping sense of rightness and peace pervading his being. He’d given her time to think it over and consider its meaning.
“My love?” she said, tentatively breaking the lingering silence. Her voice came out meek and small. “Are you alright?”
He smiled softly at her. “More than you know. Because now I can finally speak the words I’ve been longing to say since the moment I met you.”
“What would those be?” she whispered.
“I love you, too.”
She felt her cheeks and eyes burning hot. It wasn’t until her vision wavered and she felt teardrops fall onto her peplos that she realized she was crying.
“Why are you weeping, sweet one?”
“I don’t know,” she smiled, brushing a hand across her cheek. It was futile. The levee had burst and everything she’d held back for days streamed down her face in a torrent. “I don’t know why I am when what I feel is… relief. I can’t explain it. I haven’t felt this since I— not ever! Not even when I lived in the world above. I’ve never felt so…”
He reached to her and brushed away another tear.
“…So free,” she said and reached up to hold his hand. “I love you. I waited to say it, and I’m glad I had time to think on it, but… Aidon…”
Persephone said nothing more. His lips were already on hers, slowly savoring her. Aidon kissed the corner of her mouth, where one of her tears had trailed, and brushed his lips across hers to peck at the other corner. He drew back and looked at her, his eyes warm, rare flecks of gold appearing in his dark brown irises.
He looked away from her and smiled broadly. She placed her hands on his chest and he looked back at her, both their eyes swimming. Aidon grasped her at the back of the neck and pulled her lips against his, sampling them before canting his head and feeling her open to him. She tasted like sunlight.
Persephone hummed softly and Aidon brought her closer, wrapping his arms around her and feeling the room itself tilt, losing himself in her. He wavered between staying here to enjoy this moment or carrying her to their bedroom to celebrate this revelation more fully.
She decided for them. Persephone grasped at his robes and stood, bringing him with her, then pulled at his himation until it dropped around his feet.
“What would you have of me, my love?” he whispered against her lips.
Persephone stopped and flushed pink. “I… want to hold you.”
“To hold me?” The corner of his mouth twisted up.
“It’s… such an uncomfortable angle here on the divan. I thought we would… be more comfortable, that is, if—”
He chortled at her stumbling words. “Are you sure that’s all?”
“I— Yes,” she said, not meeting his gaze.
“Why so shy? We’ve lain in that bed many times over.”
“It’s just very… everything feels heightened right now.” How could she put it into words? When they were, as Aidon had phrased it several days ago, merely friends and lovers, she had no hesitation at all. Half their encounters she had initiated herself, much to their mutual delight. Her chest felt heavy and her throat closed again, tears forming before she could speak. “I don’t know. I feel… exposed.”
Aidoneus nodded and held her closer. “I understand.”
“You do?”
His mouth remained set, but his eyes smiled. She gathered at once that this was how he had felt after his declaration burst out of him the day she arrived. That such a time spanned between their confessions made her heart ache.
“My sweet Aidoneus, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize—”
“I was scared. I thought if you knew you’d won me that you would lose interest and abandon me, the way Zeus did to my mother,” she said warily, and saw an incredulous half smile quirking the corner of his mouth.
“Can the sun find its match in anything but the moon? Can the heavens lose interest in the earth?” Hades pulled away from her and stroked her cheek. “Can death exist without life?”
She looked away from him. “But, I waited so long…”
“No you didn’t,” he said. “And I was willing to wait far longer.”
She stared up at him, her eyelids growing heavy, her body urging itself closer to his. “I think… we’d be more comfortable elsewhere, my lord.”
“After you, my queen,” he gestured toward the bedroom.
“We…”
“Not unless we both desire it. And right now I need the same thing as you.”
Persephone relaxed her shoulders and led the way, almost regretting her shyness. Her heart was beating faster than it ever had around him, and she sat at the edge of the bed before hitching up the skirt of her peplos to scoot back on the sheets. Aidon clenched his jaw, studying her bare legs before joining her. She lay on her side and he nestled in behind her, his hand stroking her arm. For a moment she was reminded of their first meeting in Eleusis, and her thighs closed together around a familiar empty ache. She waited for it to pass. When she relaxed again and fit her body to his, she felt him pressed against her rear.
“Ignore it,” he muttered through his teeth.
She rolled over to face him with a smile. “Hard to ignore.”
“As are you,” he said. He wound his fingers into the hair at the nape of her neck and pulled her close, kissing her forehead. He whispered her name against her skin.
“Aidoneus…” she answered. “I love you.”
He spread his hand across her back and pressed her closer still. “And I love you. It pleases me to hear you say it aloud.”
“But not for the first time.”
“That day at the Lethe,” he said under his breath.
“That’s not what I speak of. I said it a few days ago, once I knew you were asleep,” she shyly admitted, “and every night since.”
“I wish I had heard. I wish I’d been willing to hear you say it.”
“But you were right. We weren’t ready.”
“What changed?”
“Everything. I couldn’t go any longer without telling you. Not with w
hat I have to do. It was time.”
“Time.” He laughed dryly. “To think— I’ve only had the pleasure of hearing that, of feeling that, for such a short time. Minutes, for Fate’s sake, and now you have to leave me.”
“I should go first thing tomorrow.”
“So soon?”
“I won’t be long. And it must be done, my love. Every day we delay, more die.”
“Their journey here is inevitable. They’re mortal.”
“I know. But to come here all at once is neither fair nor just,” she said. “The balance of everything—”
“Please stay with me a few more days. It will make little difference in the end.”
“Husband, this— I don’t understand. You’ve always looked beyond yourself to the greater good.”
“You think too highly of me, wife. Please, please permit me a shred of selfishness,” he said, kissing her. “Stay. Just a day or two longer.”
She sighed softly. Maybe she should stay and enjoy this. All of her time here had been spent trying to find where they stood in each other’s lives, and now she would leave just as soon as they had found it… “I’ll think about it, Aidon. But we know I must go eventually.”
He nodded and brushed stray hairs from her forehead.
“How will I get there?”
“There are many ways. The long roads are by way of the passages through which the souls descend to the Styx. They wend through the caves and chasms in the world above, and on foot the journey can take days. The short road, through the ether… to traverse those same boundaries requires the Key.”
“Which means you’d have to go with me.”
“Which we cannot do, or Demeter will not listen. And I don’t like the idea of stranding you in the world above, sweet one.”
“Neither do I,” she said. The sleeve of her peplos slipped down on her shoulder and she saw Aidon’s eyes follow it. “What if they don’t let me come back?”
Destroyer of Light Page 7