Eternal Night (Skeleton Key)

by Marian Tee

  Her hands slammed flat on the carpeted floor, Ever actually needing to keep herself from falling down.

  Her fingers curled hard, turning gray with dust.

  You’re wasting your time here, she told herself. It was time to get up, take the books she needed, and get on with the rest of her life.

  Ever started to push herself up, her hands sliding forward on the dusty carpet, and that was when she felt it. Something hard and solid, like---

  Tightening her fingers around the object, she brought it up to her gaze.

  Oh.

  It was a skeleton key, literally and figuratively, small enough to fit the palm of her hand. It was made entirely of glass, with the head shaped like a skull.

  What kind of key was this, she wondered.

  Standing up with the key in hand, she dusted herself off and cast one last glance around her. It would have been nice if it had been real, she thought wistfully. But maybe, that moment was enough. To have but a taste of what it was like to hope, to dream---

  Her eyes narrowed.

  Was that light coming from the very end of the room, behind the rows of shelves?

  Here we go again, Ever.

  She rubbed her eyes, told herself to stop dreaming, and glanced at it again.

  The streak of light on the floor was still there, and it almost seemed like it was moving, with the rays of light moving across the walls, to the ceiling, to the shelves, and then back on the floor again.

  Here we go again indeed, she thought with a nearly hysterical laugh, and yet her feet had already begun to move on its own. Her legs trembled as she walked, and even though she kept telling herself it wasn’t real, her heart was once again beating hard while goosebumps pumped all over her skin.

  When will you ever learn, Ever?

  She stopped right before the last shelf. Behind it was less than two feet of empty space and the wall, and yet---

  That seemed where the light was coming from.

  Ever took a deep breath.

  She placed one foot in front of her, and as her shoe landed on the sliver of light on the carpeted floor, the skeleton key in her hand began to tingle, causing her to gasp.

  What was happening?

  The skeleton key was vibrating so hard against her hand, it was almost like it was itching to free itself from her grasp.

  Something was really happening now, Ever thought dazedly.

  She took another step forward and turned towards where the light was coming from.

  Oh!

  A door, its edges ablaze with light, was outlined in the shadows.

  She looked down on the skeleton key and everything almost made crazy sense.

  Ever took a step closer.

  Oh!

  She could hear it again. That music---

  Ever took another step closer.

  The music became more defined, and now she could even hear the sound of guests laughing and dancing.

  Another step closer---

  Oh, oh, this time she could actually smell the sweet scent of a mild winter breeze, and her knees shook hard because today was the first day of May, and England was deep in spring.

  One last step, and this time she was close enough to see the black knob, almost invisible as it shared the same shade with the rest of the door.

  Ever swallowed.

  If the skeleton key worked –

  Where it would lead?

  Would there be a way to come back?

  This is dangerous, Ever.

  But ---

  What if…what if God had heard her prayers and this was the doorway to the Underworld?

  What was there to lose?

  Ever raised a trembling hand. She held her breath as she slowly tried sliding the key into place.

  Oh!

  It fit perfectly, the two teeth at the end of locking into place inside the knob.

  She turned the key, and there was a clicking sound as the door was unlocked.

  Ever opened the door, and the rising notes of Edvard Grieg’s masterpiece danced about her, gloriously and incandescently beautiful.

  She began to cry.

  Whether this was real or unreal---

  Whether she was crazy or not---

  It no longer mattered.

  Ever stepped into the door---

  And she began to fall.

  Hades and Persephone

  In the underworld, no other structure could rival the breathtaking magnificence of the lord’s castle. Situated on top of the realm’s tallest mountain, it had been built to naturally accommodate the rugged outline of the land. Hanging gardens were built next to small natural waterfalls while giant branches of ancient trees had been turned into shelves in the library and in the grand courtyard, where children were allowed to play, swings had been suspended from the trees’ mighty arms.

  It was said that this castle was of such immense beauty that Zeus himself had lamented the fact that Mt. Olympus paled in significance when compared to his younger brother’s castle. Thus it was a good thing that only the dead could gain entry to the Underworld.

  One day, Hades came upon his queen alone in their chamber, a forlorn look on her face. She stood next to the windows, a faraway look in her eyes.

  “What is it, my love?”

  She forced a smile. “Nothing, Your Majesty.”

  He frowned. “Do not call me that.” Only mortals used the term, and he disliked it precisely for that reason.

  “But you are a king, and I think you need to be reminded of the fact once in a while.”

  When her lips formed a pout, Hades sighed. “Let me guess. I have done something again that you do not approve of.”

  Persephone slowly shook her head. “I do not want you to think I am meddling in your affairs, but – I think you are being too lenient.”

  “Lenient on whom?” Hades was genuinely puzzled.

  “On your subjects.” When his expression became grim, she said quickly, “Yes, I know, you have been running the kingdom for countless millennia and I have only been with you for a few years. But Hades – perhaps that is also the reason why you are blind to the truth.”

  “And what is this truth you speak of?”

  She said in a small voice, “You listen to them more than you listen to me. And it does not seem right, do you not think? I am your Queen. And those men around you – they may be the judges of the court, appointed by the Fates, but they are not infallible.”

  Hades came to stand behind his queen and, resting his chin atop her head, he said quietly, “You speak in riddles.”

  “A-am I?” She bit her lip. “I do not mean to. It’s only because I’m young, and I’m unused to being caged---” She whirled around when she heard him suck his breath. “No, Hades, I’m sorry! It was the wrong choice of word.”

  “But it is the truth,” he said bitterly as he released her. “Do you not think that I am unaware of how cold you have become lately? Of how your sighs outnumber your smiles, and the way you constantly talk about the world above---”

  Persephone clasped his hands and pressed it tightly against her heart. “I am so sorry, my love. I did not mean to hurt you. It is just…I’m sad. I do not want to leave you, I will never wish to be apart of you but my love, please at least consider this.” She took a deep breath. “I don’t mind if I am forbidden to leave the Underworld, but---could you perhaps reconsider opening our world to the others?”

  “The underworld is called such for a reason---”

  “I know that, but I am not talking about mortals. I am talking about our kind. Gods. Goddesses. Our kind, Hades.”

  “They are still living.”

  She let go of his hands in frustration. “You are so rigid and inflexible on this, Hades! But I also know it’s not you who really think so. You love me, so of course you would want me to be happy. What’s stopping you are those judges, those wise old men who are nothing but dried up fools---”

  “Persephone!”

  Tense silence broke out at the king’s
sharp tone.

  Hades could not believe that his gentle queen had spoken such words. She had changed so much in the years she was nearly unrecognizable. Yes, she was still enticingly beautiful as ever, but there the similarity ended.

  The spontaneity, the docility, the warmth of her affection – all of it were gone.

  Was this the real Persephone…or had the kind of life she was destined to lead as his queen turned her into this?

  When her face started to crumble, Hades swore under his breath and he reached for her. “I am sorry, my love.” He pulled her into his arms, and she cried quietly against his chest. There were no words of recrimination, and if anything he hurt more because it was so.

  Perhaps she was right.

  Perhaps he had forgotten that the judges, for all their wisdom and grand age, were still not infallible. It was the judges who had decreed that no living should cross the Underworld but there had been exceptions throughout history and his realm had not shattered because of them.

  So why could the exception not be turned into the rule?

  “You are right,” he said quietly.

  Persephone sniffed back tears. “About what?”

  “There is no reason why we shouldn’t our kind come here.”

  Her head jerked up at his words. “H-Hades? Are you saying what you think you’re saying?”

  “I’m saying…perhaps you should throw a ball and send out invitations throughout the land to know---” He laughed as with a cry of joy, his wife threw herself at him, her arms going around his neck and her legs locking around his waist.

  “Oh, Hades, I love you, I love you!” She showered his face with kisses.

  He laughed. “If I had known you’d be this happy---”

  She sucked on his lower lip hard, and he gasped. Pulling away, she asked throatily, “If you had known, you would what?”

  “I’d have invited all immortals to our realm,” he said hoarsely, “so I can do this.” He pushed her against the wall and, throwing her skirts up to her waist, he ripped her silk panties away and ran his fingers against her wet folds.

  Persephone moaned. “Hades.” Her fingers clawed at his shoulders.

  His fingers entered her, and she buckled against his hand. “Harder.”

  Hades pushed his fingers deeper into her.

  “Yes, oh, yes.”

  They made love for the rest of the night, and when the Underworld’s silvery sun rose in the sky, Hades woke up to find his queen gone from his side.

  Where could she be?

  After bathing, Hades strolled out of his chambers and on his way to the throne room he found Thanatos standing at the foot of the stairs, apparently waiting for him. The winged demon was the Underworld lord’s most trusted his second-in-command, and had fought and ruled by Hades side far longer than any other creature in his realm.

  For this reason, Hades trusted him implicitly, and which was why Thanatos’ grim countenance was enough to have him frown. “What is the problem?” he asked immediately. It was not like Thanatos to worry about nothing.

  Bowing when the king reached his side, the winged demon said, “I’ve received several rather disturbing reports from Senectus.”

  Ah. Senectus was the god of ald age, the oldest among the immortal cadre of sentries that guarded the entrance of the Underworld. Realizing where this conversation may be leading, Hades asked, “What do the reports say?”

  Thanatos was quiet for a moment. “I believe, milord, you already know.” He stepped away from his king. “If it is your will, lord, then it shall no longer be a cause for concern for any of us.”

  “And if it is not?”

  “Then the perpetrator must be punished as justice demands.”

  “Even if it is your queen?”

  “Even if it is you, sire.” Unspoken words hung between the two friends, and that was also the indisputable truth that Hades would rather lose his immortality than put his kingdom in danger.

  Or at least the king would not do so knowingly, Thanatos thought, and there the problem lied.

  Ever since Hades’ queen came to the Underworld, the king had no longer been the same.

  “Walk with me, Thanatos.”

  “Yes, milord.”

  A silence was born between the two, strained when for innumerable years it had always been made good and comfortable by trust and loyalty.

  As Thanatos followed his lord through the castle, he could not keep his mind from dwelling to the prophecy, which every subject of the Underworld knew by heart.

  The lord would fall because of her.

  The lady would disappear because of him.

  And when these two came to be,

  The Underworld would have made its choice.

  “I can feel you scowling at me from behind, demon.”

  Thanatos bowed his head. “Forgive me.”

  “I hope there is no need for me to tell you,” Hades said as they reached the castle’s south tower, “that you have the liberty to speak your thoughts without repercussions.” In front of them was a narrow staircase, spiraling all the way until the viewing deck, built thousands of feet from the ground, and as Hades turned his gaze upwards, he added quietly, “Even if it is something you believe I do not wish to hear, you may always speak freely.”

  “The Queen shows every sign of being the prophesied bride, milord.”

  “Yes.” They started to ascend, their pace slow but steady.

  “But I confess, milord, perhaps this is one case when…” Thanatos clenched his fists. “Forgive my impertinence, king, but as you have bidden me, I will speak freely.”

  Hades turned to face Thanatos.

  “Milord, perhaps, in light of what is happening, you and the kingdom would be better off with a Queen who has not been prophesied?’

  “Great party as always.” Apollo, the god of truth and light, raised his glass in a celebratory salute to the lord of the underworld.

  It was not a compliment to be taken lightly, coming from the god who had perfected the art of throwing parties, and Hades knew this. He raised his glass in return and inclined his head in acknowledgment. “The compliment is appreciated.”

  “I foresee good business for the triplets,” Hermes, Mercury’s god, declared as he joined the two.

  “That is impossible,” Apollo drawled with a mock frown, “when oracles are not within the realm of your power.” Hades laughed, and Hermes, despite rolling his eyes, was also grinning. It was a common pastime between the Olympians to challenge each other on who had the most useful powers and dominions.

  “How did you find this temple?” Hermes asked the lord of the underworld. “I thought this was lost to civilization.”

  “Apologies, my young brother,” Hades said with a grin. “But those are trade secrets only the Three Graces have the right to reveal.”

  So it was true then, Apollo thought. Although Hermes had mentioned of the triplets’ involvement and the grapevine had pretty said as much, it was the first time for Apollo to hear Hades confirming the rumors.

  He glanced at the trio, who was now understandably surrounded by a throng of immortals inquiring about their services. For so long, Aglaea, Euphrosyne, and Thalia had been disregarded by other immortals as minor deities whose only claim to fame were being the daughters of Aphrodite.

  Casting a look at his admittedly remarkable surroundings, from which an abandoned and long-buried temple had been turned into a land of crystal winter, Apollo knew Hermes’ words would come true. From here on, the triplets’ efforts would be recognized and it would only be a matter of time before Zeus himself rewarded with more assignments.

  “Why did you choose them?” Apollo asked curiously. “Most of our kind usually ask for this kind of help from one of the Muses.”

  “They were busy,” Hades said with a shrug.

  Apollo raised a brow. “Too busy for one of the most powerful Olympians?”

  Hades grimaced. “Stop making a big deal out of this.”

  “Then stop lyin
g to the god of truth,” he retorted.

  “This is why I avoid talking to you.”

  “Actually,” Hermes intruded with a sardonic smile, “this is why most immortals avoid talking to him.”

  Apollo only laughed, knowing it was the truth and not at all bothered by it. “Lots of people want to ride with you in the limo,” he quoted, “but what you want is someone who will take the bus with you when the limo breaks down.”

  Hades and Hermes looked at each other.

  Finally, Hades said, “I give up. Who said that?”

  Apollo bared his teeth in a smile. “Oprah Winfrey.”

  The two other Olympians shuddered.

  “It is simply not done, Apollo,” Hermes said with mock despair, “for a god to quote a human who is still alive. It is just not done.”

  “I fear I shall make my leave before your closeness to humanity rubs off on me,” Hades said and after bidding the two with a deep bow, the lord of the Underworld walked away to greet the latest guests to have arrived.

  Hermes and Apollo stared after the older Olympian.

  “How old do you think he is?” Hermes asked.

  “Old enough he probably would have forgotten his age,” Apollo guessed. “Zeus has.”

  “He only says he has,” Hermes said with a snort, “to save face, since we all know Hera’s much, much younger than he is.”

  “True.” Apollo glanced at the other god, who was the closest to him among the other Olympians. “Why do you care to know anyway?”

  “It just makes me wonder, I suppose,” Hermes murmured. “Like how old you need to be in order to realize certain truths about life.”

  Apollo said flatly, “Don’t even think of saying her name. He may seem like a changed man now, but do not be fooled by his smiles and newfound charm. Hades is still the king of the Underworld, and the reason why he is called the Prince of Darkness remains true.”

  The god of light fell silent, and Hermes knew even without Apollo saying a word what the other god was thinking.