Alkaios’ heart slowed in relief at finding her and then sped up at the sight of Hades’ beauty. Her bare legs kicked softly, dragging her ankles through the crystal water, and Alkaios watched in a trance. Turmoil had claimed their lives as of late, but he never forgot the way he felt the first time he saw his wife. A woman named Persephone had come limping to him from the very spot where she now sat, and Hades still took his breath away. An overwhelming urge to have her body pressed against him devoured his soul, and Alkaios surged toward the river.
He was behind Hades in a heartbeat, and the pitchfork clattered to the dirt as it fell from his hand. Alkaios sank to a seat and pulled her spine flush against his chest. A small gasp of surprise vibrated her ribs beneath his palm as their bodies collided, and while one arm welded Hades to his heart, the other brushed her sun warmed locks from the back of her neck. Alkaios kissed the soft skin blanketing her spine, and Hades’ ribcage shook his encasing forearm with laughter.
Hades lifted a hand and laced her fingers through Alkaios’ hair. Together they sat in the warmth for long, silent moments. Alkaios’ lips lingered against her neck, Hades’ fingers caressing his hair. Love expanded his heart, and Alkaios was sure Hades felt it pounding through his skin. He loved this woman increasingly with each passing day, and the swelling in his heart was almost painful. Alkaios could not lose Hades; he refused to. He craved an eternity with this raven-haired beauty, one filled with laughter and children. Even tears and arguments were welcomed if it meant Hades never abandoned him for the madness of these foreign gods. Alkaios could almost picture them sitting here hand in hand by the water, their future sons or daughters splashing in the shallow current. Kerberos and Chimera would be here, keeping guard over their little bodies, and a sudden flash of how beautiful a mother Hades would be played out before his eyes. Alkaios would do anything to keep her insanity at bay so that perhaps one day she would mother his children.
As if sensing his trepidations, Hades peeled her back from his thundering chest and shifted to face him. Her lips were on his before Alkaios could inhale a breath, and her arms were about his neck in a desperate hold. Alkaios felt both her fear and reassurance in the kiss, and he drank all of it in. He would steal all of her pain and anxiety if he could, curse his own soul to free hers, and as they kissed, Alkaios felt the tension in Hades’ body release. The kiss was fierce and passionate, full of a love so vast that words could not express it. Alkaios collapsed to the grass, dragging Hades on top of him. A small gasp escaped her full lips before she pushed herself against his solid chest. Their kiss grew deeper, and Alkaios wrapped Hades in an embrace so strong it would have pained a mortal woman, but it only inspired more passion from his queen. Darkness and prophecies could wait. For now, only Hades ,and Alkaios’ love for her, existed.
Hades and Alkaios vanished from earth and appeared moments later on the banks of the River Styx. With the setting of the sun, reality had come crashing around their blissful forms. They could no longer hide from the pressing matters at hand, locked away in their passionate cocoon. The hours on earth had brought them both an iota of peace though, and with kisses peppered across his wife’s face, Alkaios could not stop the smile that broke through his lips. Hades’ spirit was exuberant from a day that had consisted of nothing but Alkaios’ love, and as they returned to their true home, her fingers could not be parted from his skin.
Still clutching her husband’s hand, Hades bent and scooped up a pebble, but by the time her back straightened, it was no longer a stone but a coin. With a flick of her wrist, she launched it over the water, the fog’s dark greed swallowing its whistling flight. The Styx fell still, broken only by Charon’s boat slicing through the current.
Not bothering to wait for the ferryman to reach the shore, Hades plunged into the poison waters and climbed into the boat. She twisted her ladened skirt over the side of the ferry while she waited for Alkaios. The rung droplets hastened to rejoin the river until the damp cloth was safe to lower into the boat. The Styx had devoured Charon once before, and Hades refused to threaten his safety even if it was just a single drop slipping from her skin.
Charon swung the ferry along the riverbank, and Alkaios pulled himself up beside his wife. The king was the only living soul besides Hades who could touch the river of death unscathed, but unlike her, he preferred not to wade headlong into the water and test fate.
“Thank you for watching over me earlier,” Hades whispered in Charon’s ear.
“Anything for you.” Charon planted a kiss on her temple as he pushed off from the shore.
“I think,” Alkaios said as they thrust deep into the obscuring fog, “it is time we told Zeus…”
“No!” Charon and Hades both said in unison, a cold firmness in their combined voices.
“I know you do not trust him,” Alkaios said with exasperation, “but he is the king of all the gods. He brought the prophecy to us and deserves to know what is at stake. If anyone can help, it would be him.”
“He will help by killing her,” Charon answered. “Look at the lengths Zeus went to eliminate you, and you were only a mortal. Do you think he will allow Hades to survive once he finds out her truth?”
“He loved her,” Alkaios argued. “Whether he still does, he did once. Deep down he has to remember she is somewhere in his heart. How could he bring himself to kill her in cold blood?”
“Because,” Hades answered, “I am a threat to everything Zeus holds dear. His reign, his family. If he discovers I can destroy the world with power he has only ever dreamed of, he will not hesitate. Alkaios, I understand it is difficult to disregard Zeus after a lifetime spent praying to him, but I know him. When loving me almost cost him a fraction of his control over Olympus, he banished me to the depths. He did not know I would break the seal. He believed he was sending the so-called love of his life to eternal darkness and isolation. Then when he thought I might grow strong enough to take his throne, he tried to obliterate your soul. If Zeus learns the truth, my death at his hands will be swift. He will not let me survive long enough to come close to that door. If it comes to that… comes to my death being earth’s only salvation, then it will not be at his hands. I cannot die at Zeus’ hand.”
“You will not die,” Alkaios spat, his tone full of harsh pain. The Underworld’s shore peeked through the fog, and when he saw Keres and Kerberos lingering on the sand, he lowered his voice. “I will not let you leave me or allow anyone to lay a finger on you. He might refuse to come to our aid, but perhaps another god? There must be someone willing to help, but the king of the gods and his brother would be the strongest choices. We are the three greats of Olympus, the most powerful of them all. Who better to protect you than us?” Alkaios fell quiet waiting for a response, but only the cold, silent mist brushing against his skin answered.
“Hades?” Alkaios stepped forward and caressed her shoulder with his fingers. She stood frozen under his touch, but after an agonizingly long moment, Hades slowly twisted her head. Her neck turned with an unnatural movement until her face lighted upon his. Alkaios jerked back with a grunt and snatched his hand from her skin, horror seething through his veins.
“It does not matter who you seek for help,” Hades snarled. Her voice was low and gravely, not at all her own. Not a single voice, but that of many broke past her lips in a demonic lilt, and her dark blue eyes had vanished, replaced by glazed over black slits. “He cannot help you,” the demons’ voices continued, echoing harshly over the water in growled insistence. “She has awoken us… she will free us. You cannot stop this… no one can.”
As soon as the words left her tongue, the blackness drained from her eyes, and the dark blue seeped back into her irises. Hades blinked at Alkaios and then Charon in dazed horror, and her hand flew to her mouth almost as if she were trying to catch the words that had already fled. The boat was the only thing that moved as it drifted aimlessly through the water until it wedged itself in the shallow sand with a soft thud. Hades faltered at the slight bump. Without thinki
ng, Alkaios shot out his hand to steady her, but with a harsh jerk, she waved him off. In a panic, Hades scrambled over the side of the ferry, plunging hard into the river before she stumbled onto the shore. No one attempted to follow her as she rushed over the ever-changing terrain, their feet lead beneath them.
After a long and oppressive silence, only Keres found her feet, and with silent footsteps, she backed away until the mist swallowed her alive. In her solitude, she vanished.
“Hephaestus!” she tore through the endless forge, her steps slapping a vicious staccato on the tile. “Hephaestus!” Keres burst through the archway that led to the heart of his workshop where the fire ran eternally ablaze. The god shot his eyes upward at her entrance, a piece of molten metal clasped in his bare hands.
“Keres…”
“You must work faster!” Keres cut him off. “I beg you… by all that is holy, finish that cage. We are running out of time… we may already be too late.”
XI
The days that followed were the unbearably obsessive silence before a vicious storm. The whole of the Underworld held its breath, afraid that if even a whisper of air passed through their lungs, the unstable peace would shatter. Hades withdrew within herself, and a sense of overwhelming helplessness pained Alkaios as he watched her presence shrivel. She was a shell of her normal self, fear of her potential fate crushing her, and if he was honest, it was strangling his bleeding heart. Alkaios never let Hades far from his sight, and it killed him to chaperone the woman who had broken the seal. It was her divine right to watch over them, not to be guarded like a debased soul of Tartarus. Alkaios was god now, but he felt it was mostly in name. He commanded great power, but Hades was the true god of death, and following her as if she were a toddler teetering too close to a cliff’s edge drained his soul.
All within the Underworld slept with one eye open, guarding Hades’ every movement, praying she was in control of her own mind. There was no peace during the long nights as all who dwelled in the depths rotated watch. Hydra even deployed the snakes of Tartarus to all corners of the realm, and they whispered Hades’ every action back to their mother.
Despite the uneasiness of the dark air, Hades had not once slipped from the Underworld. Charon caught her sleepwalking one night on the riverbank, but she merely stood, toes in the sand, and stared out into the mist before returning to bed. Kerberos slept with his massive tail coiled around her so that if she rose, the yank on his tail would wake him. Chimera rested each night in her doorway, his immense frame blocking any escape. Hades managed to sneak past both beasts once, but Keres had seized her before she could leave the fortress. On two different occasions, Alkaios woke from a dead sleep to the sight of black smoke encircling Hades, but his restraining speed had tethered her to his body, rendering it impossible for her to vanish.
It was heartbreaking for all to watch and humiliating for Hades, but the peace held. Not once did she escape, and after a week of fragile calm, the Underworld dared to believe she was safe under their watchful eyes. Keres checked unnecessarily often on Hephaestus, but the cage for Hades was slow turning from idea to creation. Keres’ hope flickered dim in her chest as the progress fought Hephaestus’ molding hand, but still, she clung to faith. Alkaios would hate it, but she knew Hades. Hades would agree. That seal could never be broken, no matter the cost, and Keres was certain Hades would prefer an iron prison to call home than the ever-present eyes hunting her every move, even if it was to only shift her weight. No, this would work… it had to. They had to hold out a while longer, and then Hades would be safe. The door would never open, and their worry would be over.
The nightmares worsened, drowning Hades in paralyzing fear. She tore through the bloody corridors; the images so palpable, she felt the dead beneath her heels and scented the decay in her nostrils. The shadow of horns loomed massive on the walls as she tripped over the corpse-littered hallways. Slipping in a pool of slick blood, Hades’ bare feet shot out from under her, and she slammed savagely into the floor, cheek slapping the ground. Her vision blurred as a searing pain burned through her skull, and she huddled aching on the cold floor, willing her eyes to focus.
When her sight returned, Hades wished it had not. Before her was the face of an elderly woman, eyes open and blank in death as blood dripped from her lips. Hades balked and scrambled away from those empty irises, but her finger slid in the slickness causing her palms to scrape across the stone. Her hand jerked from the smear and froze. She had not smeared a pool of blood, but instead hastily scrawled symbols. Hades shot a glance to the aged corpse and then back to the stained prophecy. This was the king’s mother, the woman responsible for ensuring the return of the Old Ones. This was it, Hades’ beginning.
Hades’ eyes snapped open in the darkness. The tentacles of inky black swarmed around her, clawing at the air. Not a sound echoed in the old fortress; not a soul stirred in their slumber as she sat up in a slow, deliberate movement and slipped her foot unnoticed from Kerberos’ circled tail. Silently her bare feet connected with the stone floor and, and the smoke that ensnared her black hair and dress rendered her invisible in the obsidian of the night. Hades stepped over Kerberos with soundless grace and rounded the bed to where Alkaios had laid the pitchfork to rest. Grasping it firmly in her fist, she turned and crossed to the doorway where her faithful lion slept. Skirt hitched above her knees, Hades crept over Chimera; the beast utterly unaware she had left.
An unearthly silence engulfed the hallways as Hades invisibly slipped through the fortress. She passed Keres’ and Hydra’s rooms without alerting the sleeping women despite their open doors. Hydra’s snakes roamed free from their mother to watch as sentries, but Hades simply waited for them to turn their heads and snuck past the beasts. Her power was growing. Not even the god-killers of Tartarus detected the vibrations of her footsteps or tasted her scent in the air. By the time their ever-watchful gazes turned back to sweep the halls, she was gone, a ghost at midnight. In a matter of seconds, Hades had escaped the fortress, not a soul disturbed from their slumber.
Unnatural darkness glazed over her eyes as she surveyed the changing terrain of the Underworld. Her four dark horses watched alert in the night, but their hellish eyes did not notice her slip through the gloom; their nostrils failed to scent their master. Even the furies who littered the shadows, wandering with their halting gaits, missed Hades as she slipped past. It was almost too easy. Yes, her power was growing.
At the river’s edge, Hades halted just shy of the venomous waters and turned her gaze to the shrouded boathouse, listening to those sleeping within. One of the babes let out a soft cry, and Hades could hear Ioanna shuffling through the night to comfort her. It seemed only the child sensed her presence. The innocence of infancy could feel the evil ripple from Hades’ body, but the rest of the Underworld was blind to her. Satisfied that she was truly alone, Hades waded into the River Styx. The poison water lapped at her skin. It clung to her flesh as it clawed at her infernal power. Tentacles of black smoke began to ebb and flow through the water, growing ominous as they absorbed the Styx’s energy, and with a flash of hellish eyes, Hades vanished.
A moment later she appeared in darkness and fury at the base of the mountain. Her dress dripped poisoned water onto the ground, and where the droplets landed, the living green shriveled and died. Hades inhaled a sharp breath and looked heavenward. The mountain stretched upward into the onyx sky. Its invisible shield bared her entrance to the temple, forcing her to mortally climb past the remaining two witches. Hades grimaced, and smoke once again extended from her form. Perspiration beaded on her forehead as her body strained against the resistance. Imbued with the evil of the river, the smoke grew wide and long, stretching farther from her than it ever had before. Hades’ muscles convulsed as her power pushed against that of the invisible barrier.
A shimmer formed as the two forces collided, one malevolent and one unseen. The air burned electric, and with a scream ripping from her lungs, Hades thrust her power forward in a crushing assa
ult. The surrounding air shattered with a bone-jarring crack, and Hades disappeared, leaving behind only scorched earth and a cloud of ash. She had broken through the imperceptible wall, the barrier that forced all to enter as mortals, and in an instant, she appeared in the doorway to the temple. The tentacles of smoke rippled around her body and pitchfork; her eyes glowed impossibly dark in the night, and Hades gripped the metal weapon of days passed in her hand until her knuckles whitened with blood loss. One obstacle destroyed. One more to go.
The crack split the air, and Medusa knew. She had dreaded this moment; prayed it would never see the light of day, but at the sound of the barrier’s destruction, she knew the last had come. Medusa rose to her feet with a fortifying breath and contemplated summoning the witches but dismissed it just as quickly as she had considered it. They were deadly in the maze with their all-seeing eye perched atop the column to watch unobstructed, but in here among the debris and twisted halls, they would be blind fools. No, they were only useful in stopping those who climbed up the mountain. Medusa knew by the cracking, Hades had destroyed the barrier that kept the gods from materializing at her doorstep. Hades would be here in seconds if she were not already. The witches would be little use now. No, this was a fight Medusa would have to wage herself.
With a blink of her eyes, Medusa’s legs melded together. Once flesh, her body transformed to scales, and the massive tail began to grow from her limbs until she was no longer in human form. Her monstrosity of a tail swelled and thickened until it filled the room with fleshy coils. She reached back and loosened the cord that held the snakes in their braid. The tiny creatures that composed her hair burst loose as she shook them out, the scaly bodies slithering over her shoulders. Medusa inhaled with a breath of finality, and a grayish film grew over her irises. All who saw her would be turned to stone, and Medusa prayed to anyone who would listen that Hades came alone. She did not wish to curse any to eternity as a statue besides the one she must kill. And kill the last she must. One of them would have to die tonight, and Medusa knew if she did not turn the queen of death to stone, then it would be her own blood that would pave the way for the Old Ones’ return.
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