“I’m guessing it has something to do with this.” Tone flat of emotion, Alice held up her arm. From her fingertips to forearm, her appendage had transformed into solid wood. Eyebrows raised, Alice turned it over in cursory inspection. “If it is related to sin, that makes sense. When I ripped Amphrite’s heart from her chest, the blood splattered that far up my arm. Seems fitting for that to be the mark of my sin.”
Sterling swallowed hard, forcing down the acidic bile scorching the back of his throat. “That’s only the beginning of the terror this land holds.”
Both Alice and Persephone followed his wide-eyed gaze. On first glance, the Tuscan village with brick-lined streets and fairy tale inspired buildings was breathtaking. Intricately crafted wooden statues lined the street, each surrounded by bushels of brightly colored flowers.
It was lovely… for the beat it took for reality to sink in.
“Are those people?” Persephone whispered, creeping closer to Sterling—her ticket out of this nightmare.
“Once they were. Now,” Sterling’s complexion drained ashen, “they’re art.”
Men.
Women.
Children… so many children.
All frozen in various poses as their grisly fate claimed them.
Some stared behind them.
Others were locked forever in a scream.
A frightened few clawed at their skin as the unthinkable overtook them.
“There are so many of them.” A fist of dread closed around Persephone’s throat, squeezing tight.
“I’ve been here before,” Sterling admitted in a barely audible whisper. “Once, and again. By far one of the most horrific places I’ve ever been. That rhyme wasn’t even intentional, that’s just how disturbing I find this place.”
“I’m the Queen of Death, have called the Underworld home for years. But this place?” She pointed to the lush grass beneath her feet. “Terrifies me.”
Chewing on his lower lip, Sterling’s head twitched in one direction then the other. “Here before and back once more. The problem remains. Always the same. A widowed father worried for his boy. With each bad decision, he becomes more of a toy.” His chin jerked toward the line of wooden people. “In all the world, all he has is that lad. Yet, try as I might, I can never help that dad.”
With the setting sun gleaming off her hair like molten gold, Persephone squared her shoulders like she was the Goddess of War instead of flowers. “That must be our challenge here. What do you know of them? How can we help?”
Out of equal parts conversational subject matter and the thick weave tweed coat the realm forced him into, Sterling rolled his spine in discomfort. “Always at a fair of food, rides, and fun… for all except the unfortunate one.”
“That sounds promising for this gal that forgot to fill up her canteen before our last leap.” Alice drummed her fingers against the empty canister hanging at her hip. “It’s so hard to remember basic necessities… like water.”
Their conversation was interrupted by the door to an adorable home with gingerbread trim creaking open. A family of four spilled out, dressed in their best with smiles firmly in place. Despite being the age when children live to run, frolic, and play, the son and daughter walked beside their parents with their hands folded politely in front of them.
“Good day,” they chorused in perfect unison as they passed.
Sterling’s body went rigid at the sight of them, tremors shuddering through him. “It’s too late. It’s begun.”
Catching her brother’s chin with the bend of her finger, Alice turned his face to meet her gaze. “Any of the times you were here before, did you have us with you?”
“N-No,” he managed, shaking so hard his teeth chattered.
“My point exactly. This is the first time you’re tackling this fiasco with some serious weaponry… and Princess Floofy-Skirt over there.”
“I didn’t pick this hideous dress!”
“Sorry, can’t hear you through all those layers of tulle.” Alice talked over her, shooting a wink to her brother.
Sterling gave a huff of laughter in spite of the somber situation. “It happens fast. If we stand any chance on stopping what’s to come, we need to get to the carnival before that family does. The fastest route I’ve found is cutting—”
“Ugh!” Persephone interrupted, groaning her annoyance to the heavens. “Yes, we’re in a terrible hurry. By all means lets frolic along on our legs. Really, it’s amazing your kind hasn’t been wiped out of existence.” With a roll of her wrist, she summoned her magic… and exploded them into millions of tiny yellow lights. They moved like a massive swarm of lightning bugs, diving and rolling across town before solidifying at the carnival behind a caramel apple tent.
As soon as his body was returned to him, Sterling spun on his heel and heaved into the grass. “Was that payback for my jumps? It definitely felt… intentional.”
Hands on her knees, Persephone squeezed her eyes shut as her stomach lurched. “My magic is different here. Way more intense. That was unpleasant.”
“Fun side fact.” Alice held up the stump of her arm, her wooden appendage gone. “Turns out the wood was impervious to magic. Anyone one else glad we didn’t just walk? Raise your hand— Oh, wait.”
“Come on, Pin! What are you afraid of? Disappointing Daddy?” a voice taunted from the other side of the canvas tent.
The back of one hand pressed to his lips, Sterling’s head snapped in the direction of the sound. “This is it. This is the moment. That lad is trying to convince Geppetto’s boy to tamper with the Ferris wheel. If he does it, that little girl we just saw will be killed in a horrible freak accident. Not only will Pinocchio be turned to wood for his crimes, he’ll also be axed. I don’t think I need to explain that’s a bad thing. Wood magic can be reversed, but there’s no coming back from an axing. I’ve seen this play out countless different ways, and it always ends the same. Pinocchio loosens one screw, and his life is over. Reasoning with him does no good, as the lad is desperate to fit in with this certain boy that is surely days away from being wood himself.”
“What you’re saying is that the problem you couldn’t solve involved a young human male falling in with a bad seed?” Persephone fact-checked, jabbing her hands on her hips.
“To simplify a murderous situation? Yes.”
“Well, if there’s one thing the Goddess of Springtime knows, it’s how to weed out bad seeds.” Persephone raised one hand, then thought better of a magical exit. “You know what? I’ll walk.”
Head held high, she sauntered around the side of the tent.
At the base of a Ferris wheel comprised of wood beams and copper bolts, a freckle-faced kid with an overbite jabbed a finger into the chest of a waifish boy with midnight black hair falling in his eyes.
Most people would have broken the ice with casual small talk.
Persephone wasn’t most people. “You there, idiot boy! You so desperately crave the approval of this child you would shatter the heart of your father?”
“I-I-I don’t know,” Pinocchio stammered, his cheeks blooming a bright carnation pink.
“I-I-I do,” Persephone parroted. “You’re about to commit a horribly destructive act all to impress this lad into being some version of a friend? All, might I add, while he maintains a safe distance from the chaos sure to follow. Stellar decision making, by the way.”
“I had nothing to do with this!” Freckle-face lied, nervously shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “It was all his idea!”
Persephone leveled him with a glare. “You think being turned to wood is bad? Lie to me again and watch what happens.”
“I’m not afraid of you.” Freckle-face glanced in one direction and then the other, most likely looking for the quickest escape route.
“Yes, you are.” Persephone’s lips twisted into a wicked grin, her tongue teasing over the tip of one incisor in a subtle threat. With a jerk of her chin, her attention stabbed in Pinocchio’s direction. “The stunt you were pl
anning on pulling tonight? It was going to ruin your life and tear your father’s world apart. Therefore, you cannot be allowed to partake in such tomfoolery.”
A flash of rebellion narrowed Pinocchio’s almond-shaped eyes to slits of challenge. “I’m a real boy, not some puppet. I’ll do what I want.”
Hands on her knees, Persephone leaned close enough for the heat of her breath to assault the boy’s cheeks. “I feel there’s been a bit of a misunderstanding. I couldn’t care less about you or your menial existence. Unfortunately, in order to get what I want, I have to help keep you alive.” Rising to full height, she threw her arms out to her sides. “So, here I am, doing all I can to save you from yourself.”
Pinocchio’s lower lip jutted out like an indignant toddler. “And what makes you think you can? That I won’t do what I want the second you leave?”
“That, dear boy, is exactly why I’ve come with a contingency plan. In some deluded way, you think it makes you brave to thumb your nose at the horrifying curse of this land, as if joining the ranks of those macabre totems would somehow make you a hero.” With her pinkie finger, she brushed away a lock of hair that had tangled in her lashes. “Which means it will take something more potent to get your attention. Something… that would make it next to impossible for you to save face in front of your oh-so-important friends.”
“You can’t do anything to me!” Pinocchio countered, taking a cautious step back.
“Oh, I can’t? Then I suppose you have nothing to fear if I do this…” The spectacle that followed was in no way necessary, but Persephone played into the scare tactics of it all. Not to mention, as much as she loathed to admit it, Sterling’s incessant rhyming was rubbing off on her. Arms raised over her head, sparks sprayed from her fingertips. “Eye of newt. Leg from a cricket. Stem of sage. Thistle of a thicket. For every lie told, for every sin committed, let punishment burst forth in a way justly befitted. Each bad decision you chose, shall manifest and… lengthen your nose.”
The show over, both boys blinked her way in stunned confusion.
“That wasn’t real.” Freckle-face huffed an uncertain laugh. “It was a trick.”
Persephone’s shoulders sagged. “Frankly, I’m beginning to find the both of you taxing. Let’s move this along, shall we? How about a bit of proof? Tell a lie about something. Anything. Say ‘the sky is purple’.”
Pinocchio’s lips parted, the words forming on his tongue, but lingering doubt quickly chased them away. “No, I don’t want to.”
“Look who’s suddenly riddled with self-doubt.” Persephone hitched one brow with mild amusement. “Let’s try this. The opinion of Freckle-face is so very important to you. How about you simply state that you like him as a person?”
“I… like him as a person?” Pinocchio’s stare shifted to Freckle-face in the same instant his nose elongated a half-inch.
“Hey!” Freckle-face huffed.
“My work here is done. You just remember this,” Persephone flicked the tip of Pinocchio’s nose, causing it to boing from side to side, “and keep your nose clean, kid.”
Turning on her heel, she strode back in the direction she came.
“Who are you?” Pinocchio called after her, hiding his stretched nose behind his hand.
Persephone glanced down at her obnoxious dress, one corner of her mouth tugging back in wry amusement. “Me? I’m the Blue friggin’ Fairy… and your moral compass, you little twerp.”
Sauntering back to where Sterling and Alice awaited, the goddess beamed with pride. “Sterling, I must admit I have you to thank for that idea. You mentioned a boy with a special nose, and I rolled with it. I was truly inspired—” She didn’t get to finish her sentence.
The matching expressions on their faces silenced her.
She’d seen that look many times before, on the face of each and every soul cast to the Underworld.
It was the abject horror of knowing the end was racing in on a stead of certainty.
“What’s happening?” she rasped, her skin electrified with the anxious crackle of magic.
“Thought I was hearing voices. My name uttered time and again—”
Persephone held up one finger to silence him. “If the next sentence you utter rhymes in any way, I will rip out your tongue and slap you with it.”
Lips pressed together in a thin white line, Sterling glanced to his sister for an assist.
“We got a warning from the mirror,” Alice explained, adjusting the strap on her now full canteen. “Hades is coming. Now. We can’t be here when he arrives. With the curse on this land, this is the last place you want an epic battle of the gods to happen.”
“Simple enough.” Even as Persephone uttered the dismissive phrase, her heart beat a terrified chorus against her ribs. “We’re ready for our next jump anyway. I handled the lad. We’re free to venture on. Where’s our next realm?”
Swallowing hard, Sterling closed his eyes and muttered the phrase as the redhead presented it to him. “Tortured spirits that writhe and reek…”
Persephone needed no further explanation. “No. Not there. I can’t go back.” Hugging herself with her own arms, she rubbed her hands up and down her arms to chase off the chill radiating from her soul.
The grass beneath their feet shriveled into brown stalks of death.
Heavy black clouds rolled in overhead.
People began to flee from the looming storm, having no idea of the true magnitude of the threat.
“Time is running out. We can’t stay here. You have my word that you’ll be safe. Please, just take my hand.”
Persephone stared down at Sterling’s offered hand, her head shaking with increasing intensity. “I can’t go back. I’m sorry. The day I escaped I swore it to myself.”
Bolts of blue lightning flashed overhead, the thunder that followed sounding eerily like a sinister hiss of laughter. The ground bucked underfoot, sending them stumbling to remain upright.
“Leave me here,” Persephone shouted over the suddenly roaring winds. “Just go!”
“That’s not how this works, your Majesty.” Hair viciously lashing against her cheeks, Alice seized Persephone by her upper arms and forced her within Sterling’s grasp. “I’m sorry, but there’s no other way.”
Chapter Ten
Darkness pressed in from all sides. The only light offered came from torches lining the catacomb of tunnels, and the eerie emerald glow from the River Styx.
The Underworld.
A horrific blend of fang-like stalagmites, and the anguished wails of the dead.
On the other side of the Sea of Souls, shrinking from the roar of its current, sat a younger version of Persephone with a spray of wildflowers tucked into the thick waves of her golden hair. Dressed in a flowing lavender gown, she stared down at a pomegranate cradled in her delicate palms.
“I remember this day,” the modern-time Persephone bristled, sinking farther into the shadows. “We never should have come here.”
“Here, but not really here. Dead, but not really dead.” Holding up one transparent hand, Sterling turned it over in fascinated interest. “Am I real? Do I exist at all?”
“No one really exists in Hell; they merely survive it… or they don’t.” Reduced to a ghostly image of herself, Persephone pressed her back to the cool cave wall and slid to the floor. “This is days after my wedding to Hades. It was a grand affair. All the gods and goddesses of Olympus attended.” Her voice took on a wistful cadence as her head thumped back against the wall. “Arranged marriages were commonplace. Even so, my mother—Demeter—worried I would be miserable. I realize now it was because everyone knew Hades’ heart belonged to another. Mother gave me that pomegranate after enchanting it. She told me if I took a bite, she would know I was happy. That she could stop worrying about me. If I didn’t eat it before the first age spot appeared on its skin, she would risk Zeus’s wrath and come back for me. Not a day has gone by since that I haven’t regretted what came next.”
Her head lolled to
the side, eyes squeezing shut as a youthful and virile Hades stalked into the room without so much as a glance in his new wife’s direction. “You want to know why I hate him?” Persephone murmured with heartsick detachment. “Keep watching.”
The fresh-faced and corporeal Persephone leapt to her feet when her husband entered. “Hades! I’ve barely caught a glimpse of you since we uttered our vows. I’m thrilled you sought me out.”
“Persephone, I didn’t realize you were in here.” His annoyance was audible, blue-black hair falling into his eyes as his gaze flicked back in the direction he came. Realizing it would be rude to turn around and leave, he forced polite conversation with the young beauty he vowed his eternity to. “I hope you’re adjusting well to your new home.”
“You’ve made it a comfortable home.” That was a blatant lie from the newlywed bride. The place was a literal pit of despair. A far cry from the silken garments and gold-plated luxuries she left behind in the Summerland. “The only thing amiss here, is… you. I would love to get to know my groom.”
“Whilst clinging to the fruit your mother gave you to escape me?” At her shocked reaction, a smirk twisted up the corners of Hades’ thin lips. “Yes, I know about that. Nothing that happens in the Underworld escapes my notice. She gave it to you, and here you sat willing it to spoil faster.”
“No,” Persephone shook her head, fat crocodile tears brimming her lashes, “I was saving it for you.”
“That I may escape me?” He huffed a humorless laugh. “Would if I could, child. And believe me, I’ve tried.”
“You misunderstand.” The young goddess’s tine bordered on pleading, begging for the chance she knew he was leery to grant her. “I wanted us to eat it together. As a way of securing our bond and reassuring one another that despite not having the beginning we would like, we are open to learning to love each other.”
Kneeling on the ground, in the same spectral form as her companions, Alice’s head tilted with pity. “She wants something he doesn’t have to give.”
“My age hadn’t had two digits for long. I had no way to know how broken he was,” Persephone mumbled, scoffing her own naivety.
The Unfortunate Souls Collection Page 46