“Be brave, Persephone.” His words brushed over her.
She stared at her reflection. “I will,” she murmured. In no time, she’d tied her heavy white cloak, filled its pockets with apples, and crept from her room, down the hall, past the doors of the Council Chamber and down the steps of the mighty Temple.
Night was quickly falling, but she could not wait.
There was no sign of Hades’ chariot in the fields. The horses that came to meet her were tawny and sleek. Apollo’s steeds perhaps? She raised a hand up, offering an apple. As the horse chewed its second apple, she pulled herself onto its broad back. She gripped its wheaten mane and nudged its side, remembering all that Hades had taught her. The horse responded, setting a brisk pace as they descended the mountain path.
The plains greeted her, stretching without end. The sun’s rays retreated, stretching long fingers of black and gray in their wake.
She squeezed the horse with her knees and tangled her hands in his mane. The horse quickened its pace, flying so swiftly that Persephone bent low over his shoulder. Her hood blew back and pulled her hair free from its braid. She looked to the light, following its path as they raced across the plains.
The tall grasses whispered to her, welcoming her as they brushed against her calves. The sun was gone, blocked by the towering trees that edged the plain. Patches of light dappled the plains, but not enough. She would not reach the rocks, or his cave, before darkness reached her.
Still she tried, tugging the horse towards each break in the dark. Until there were none.
The grasses faded, kissed by neither sun nor moon. She looked up into the blackening sky. While the stars had begun to sparkle and dance, the moon would clearly be of no help. The slightest sliver, the thinnest crescent moon, offered no protection on her journey.
The rocks rose up ahead. Their jagged peaks offered her no menace, only comfort. His cave, her home, was close now.
And then all fell silent. The grass hushed. No bird or owl called out. Nothing but the whistle of the wind against her face.
She felt a rush of cold upon her back, and closed her eyes against it. She had no reason to feel fear. She was so close.
The horse shied, pulling against her and rising on his hind legs. She clung to the animal, whispering frantically, “Shhh, there’s nothing to fear here. I promise. Help me. Help me, and I will free you soon enough.”
The animal danced sideways, flicking his ears back again and again. She stiffened, and glanced back – knowing she shouldn’t.
In the creeping gloom that followed, she felt him – Erysichthon. But she could not see him.
She nudged the animal, pleading with it to hurry.
The horse bolted, tearing forward and knocking her back. Her hands flailed, snatching at the horse’s mane before she was knocked off.
Closer, so close she could see the cave.
The horse reared once more, managing to toss her from its back. She fell, landing heavily and knocking the breath from her lungs.
“You should be careful,” Erysichthon’s voice caused her to shudder.
She sucked in breath and rolled, ignoring the ache in her side and the tear of her tunic. She did not look at him, but pushed herself up and forward, to the cave.
His hand grabbed her cape, twisting the hood and jerking her sharply back. The strings, tied securely, dug into her neck and pinched her throat. She pulled back, yanking the tie and releasing her from the cape. She ran, frantically, to the mouth of the cave. With one step she was inside, her tunic grabbed by three sets of pointed teeth and dragged to safety.
She fell to her back, her head smacking the stone floor before she could catch herself. Pain and fear found her, dredging up memories of the last time she lay – unprotected – at Erysichthon’s feet. She swallowed back her panic.
She was not alone.
She heard a whimper, then the tell-tale rumble of Cerberus’ roar. Even with the beast before her, white teeth bared and spiked tail thrashing, she felt no fear. Cerberus would protect her. She knew it and took comfort in it.
Two sets of blazing red eyes tracked Erysichthon’s every move, their growl reverberating through the cave. There was no mistaking their warning. She suspected Cerberus longed to drag Erysichthon straight to Tartarus. But her presence stopped them. They would protect her first.
She stood, the throb of her head making her wince. She lifted her hand, finding the knot her fall had formed. She drew her hand away, aware that her fingertips were wet.
“If only you would accept your place with me, Persephone. Such injuries would not occur.” His voice was soft, soothing.
Cerberus stepped forward. Their serpent mane roiled and hissed, their tail whipped suddenly, snapping in the air.
“I prefer a bloodied head to falling captive to you again,” she answered. She stepped back, further into the cave – further from Erysichthon.
“In time, you will come to accept me. You will see.” Erysichthon laughed. “I bid you good evening, Persephone.”
She waited until he’d faded into the darkness. When he was gone, Cerberus circled her, pressing her deeper into the cave with alternating growls and whimpers. She nodded, stroking each head in turn. “I know,” she whispered. “Lead me to the orchard in Asphodel. I would eat before I go to your master.”
Chapter Twenty Two
Hades wiped his face on his cloak. His skin was heated from the tunnels, covered with sweat and sulfur, rock and dirt. He ran the cloth over his arms, then tossed it onto the ground. It had done him good, chipping away at the catacombs of Tartarus. It had helped the day pass without his every thought wandering to her. And now, the bracing winds of Asphodel brushed over him, easing the weary ache of his muscles. If not the longing in his heart.
He thought it was a trick of the wind, at first.
But a voice reached him, a whisper upon the wind. A slight growl, then a muffled bark followed. Why were the hounds here? Why was Cerberus not guarding the cave?
He crept forward, his irritation rising. He was not the only one battling restlessness, then.
He walked on, welcoming the exhaustion. Perhaps he would sleep tonight. His eyes followed the path of the sun, long since gone in the mortal world, as it began to lower in the skies of the Underworld.
“I have it,” a voice, one more dear than any other, reached him.
He froze, his eyes searching. Was she here? Or had he finally succumbed to madness?
“Thank you,” she spoke softly. “I’m sure it is most delicious.” She sighed then, sounding forlorn.
She was a flash of white, glimpsed between the closely grown trees. She took one step from the trees, turned in a circle, then slipped amongst them once more.
He hurried then. Was she here? In the orchard? “Persephone?” he called out to her.
She did not answer.
He ducked beneath a low lying branch, all the while searching for her white tunic.
He saw her then, moving away from him.
“Persephone?” Why did she run?
She stopped suddenly. He did not; she was too far from him. When he could reach her, she turned to him. Her eyes were green in the milky sunlight, fixing on him with an intensity that made him pause. She swallowed forcefully, her hands gripping the sides of her tunic.
Her tunic.
He stepped forward, inspecting her. Her tunic was torn and dirty. His eyes lingered on the red line upon her neck, the drops of blood upon her shoulder. “What happened?” he asked, his voice rough.
She blinked, her forehead furrowing.
He reached for her, clasping her upper arms in a loose hold. He stifled the sigh that rose from within. How he’d missed touching her. “Persephone?”
“I am well, Hades.” She shook her head, brushing his hands from her. “No… No I’m not. You have made me… angry.”
He could not help the smile that touched his lips. Angry or no, she was here, speaking his name.
“Angry?” he asked, moving cl
oser to her.
She scowled and stepped back. “Yes… very angry.”
“You came here? To tell me that?” He brushed her hair from her shoulders, caressing the curls slowly.
She nodded, her eyes upon his mouth. “You gave me up.”
His hand stilled, the hurt in her words more than he could bear. He had betrayed her time and again. And yet she was here. She was here.
“You left me,” she whispered.
He shook his head. “To protect you.”
Her face softened for an instant before she scowled again. “No, to protect you.”
Again, there was truth to her words.
“But I realized I was not as helpless as I thought. I have a say in this.” She stepped closer, her eyes flashing. “And I say you are wrong. You’ve no reason to harden your heart against me. No reason to turn away from the happiness that comes when we’re together. No matter how you would deny it, I know you care for me. I know I make you happy. And that, Hades, is why I am here.”
He shook his head, confused. But she spoke before he could.
“You cannot send me away now.” She held up her hand, the sweet smell of ripe fruit filling his nostrils.
He tore his eyes from hers and stared at her hand. A half eaten pomegranate lay upon her palm.
“What have you done?” he whispered. His hands gripped her shoulders, dragging her against his chest. He was torn between shaking her and kissing her. Did she realize the consequences?
“You cannot make me go back.” She lifted her chin and met his gaze.
“You are trapped,” he whispered, his joy overshadowed. His arrangement with the Fates had been determined by Persephone’s choice. He’d never meant for it to be permanent. When she’d tired of him, as he knew she would, he would ensure she was not beholden to him or bound to his realm. But now, now… “Why, Persephone? Why would you do this?”
“Because I love you.” Her voice broke. “And though I tried every day not to think of you or look for you… or miss you, I accept my fate. I cannot be without you.” Her sweet words hung in the air, demanding his response. “So I will not.”
He crushed her against him, her last words muffled against his chest. Burying his nose in her hair, he drew her scent deep within him. He could not deny his happiness, as misplaced as it was. “You act rashly–”
“No. Not rashly.” Her breath brushed across his chest, her silken arms wound about his bare back. “Desperately, perhaps.”
She did not know of his visit, that much was obvious. Would she regret her actions once she learned there was another way? One that would have afforded her freedom when she wanted it? He spoke softly, “I visited Olympus today–”
“And did not stay to see me.” Her hurt was obvious.
“I was told to leave,” he continued, “After I’d spoken with your mother.”
She looked up at him. “My mother?”
He spoke quickly, willing himself to voice all that he’d fought so long to keep from her. “I missed you,” he murmured. “Desperately. After I’d gained the Fates’ approval, I sought Demeter’s blessing–”
She silenced him, most effectively. With a startled gasp, she tangled her fingers in his hair and pulled his face, his lips, to hers. He would not fight her. And her lips… He shivered. Her mouth parted, catching his moan. His hands slid from her arms, caressing the line of her back, the flare of her waist, beneath the softness of her tunic. It was then that he felt the ripped hem. What had happened to her?
Her lips lifted from his, allowing him to draw in a ragged breath. But the question was lost. Her smile overwhelmed him once more. She expressed, openly, the joy that so completely filled him.
“I knew it,” she spoke clearly, still smiling.
“Yes,” he nodded, letting his eyes look their fill. His voice was rough, heavy with emotion. “You did.”
Her hands cupped his face and she sighed. “All will be well.”
“You have such faith,” he whispered.
“As do you,” she paused. “You bargained with the Fates…”
His hands covered hers. “A bargain I will have to revisit.”
“Why?” her smile did not fade.
“That was not part of the bargain,” he pointed at the fruit, fallen on the ground at their feet. “I’d meant for you to keep your freedom…”
She sighed, shaking her head.
He continued. “You were to have a choice, to come and go as you pleased. But now…” he scowled at the fruit. He could not bring himself to scowl at her.
“This is my choice,” her voice hitched. “There is nothing I want more… than to be with you.”
“Truly?”
She nodded. “Nothing, Hades. It is no passing fancy. My heart is yours.”
He turned, pressing a kiss against her palm. His heart was all too willing to accept her words as truth. It would take time for the rest of him to believe as well. He glanced at the fruit. Time they had.
“There is balance between us,” she added, drawing his attention back her.
“Oh?” His fingers traced the line of her jaw, then her neck. He smoothed a heavy curl from her shoulder, savoring every touch. “Balance?”
“You’ve my heart and you… I…” she swallowed then, uncertain.
He nodded. “And you have mine.”
She smiled, her eyes closing for a moment before she sighed happily. “Yes.”
He shook his head, astounded. He was blessed above all Gods. And he would do whatever the Fates asked of him to keep her with him. “I must make them understand what’s happened.”
“And what has happened?” she waited.
His eyebrow rose. “You’ve come home.”
She nodded, pressing herself against him once more. “Yes, I am home.”
Epilogue
“You must learn patience.” Demeter smoothed the long white veils over Persephone’s braid. “He has waited these six months, I see no reason for your agitation now that you’re about…” She sniffed, once, then twice.
“Mother,” Persephone soothed, pulling Demeter into her embrace. “I shall return to you in six months more.” Her heart felt heavier at the thought. No, not now. Not yet. She would not worry over the goodbyes when she’d yet to say hello to him.
Demeter nodded. “It is foolish of me, I know. For I have what I’ve wanted. I know you are safe with Hades. But you are so… so…”
Persephone sighed and hugged her mother to her once more. “You must not forget the plants while I’m away, Mother. They may sleep through my absence, but keep them living – I entreat you.”
Demeter nodded. “Yes, yes.”
“It’s time.” Aphrodite peered around the door.
Persephone smiled at her. “I’ll be there in a moment.”
Aphrodite smiled, but there was a sadness in her eyes that Persephone was all too familiar with. Something troubled her new friend, the Goddess of Love–
“You look lovely,” Demeter interrupted her thoughts. “Today I give away my daughter and gain a son.”
Happiness settled upon Persephone, warm and strong. She did not let her mother dally any longer, but took Demeter’s hand and led them to the Council Chamber.
He stood, swathed in gray silk. He cut a regal figure, handsome and tall. So handsome that she released her mother’s hand and ran to him. His smile greeted her before she tangled her arms about him and demanded a kiss.
“Well,” Hermes laughed. “It would seem she has no resistance to the union.”
Apollo laughed heartily. “Would that all women greet their men in such a fashion.”
“Truly, Persephone,” Hera chided her. “Remember who you are.”
His lips lifted from hers then, making her fingers tighten upon the front folds of his tunic.
“She remembers well enough,” Hades’ words were soft, amused.
Persephone smiled at him, taking his hand in both of hers.
“Come.” Zeus waved them forward, holding a sin
gle golden coronet in his hand. He lifted it, placing it upon Hades’ head, then her own. It was the lightest touch, yet it marked them as partners before Olympus.
“Go now, before the sun sets.” Demeter hugged her daughter. “And remember the ritual that will bring you home. These ceremonies, the Eleusinian Mysteries, will keep you safe and with us.”
Persephone nodded. “I will not forget. I promise you.”
Hera’s words were praising, and faintly envious, “The city Eleusis honors you greatly, Demeter. That they place their daughters in harm’s way, to ensure Persephone’s safe crossing, knowing Erysichthon waits–”
Hades’ hand was warm about her. “I will not rest until Erysichthon is a threat no longer. Thanatos has seen him. The hounds hunt him still.”
Demeter shook her head. “They are a good people, and cared for me well while I grieved for you, Persephone. They do no more than I. If their Goddess must risk her daughter for a fruitful harvest, they will do the same. It is the will of the Fates, is it not? If they require such dramatics for their cursed balance, I can scarce deny them.” She paused. “Nor could I deny the desires of my daughter.”
Aphrodite was quick to ease the worry Demeter’s words raised. “You have no need to fear for them. They know what they do, and why. It is more than a harvest that brings these Mysteries into being. It is your love. A love that leaves us all in awe.” She met Persephone’s eyes. “Besides, Ares is most desperate for battle. Perhaps these Eleusinian Mysteries will offer him a conquest?”
“It has been too quiet of late,” Ares muttered. He glanced at Aphrodite, then Persephone, with an ever increasing scowl.
“Then I shall worry no more,” Persephone smiled at Ares. “And thank you for keeping watch.”
Hades’ hand tightened about hers, the slightest pull revealing his impatience. She met his eyes, so blindingly blue she paused to gaze at him.
For the Love of Hades (The Loves of Olympus) Page 25