“Hades,” she whispered and if she did not know it had died long ago, she would swear her heart was breaking. She pressed her lips against his and he groaned helplessly, pressing his mouth against hers. Then he let out a painful gasp against her lips and he pushed her away, falling to his knees as blood began to drip from his mouth, falling in long pools to the ground.
“Hades!” she cried, dropping to the ground beside him, her tears falling to join the blood flowing at their feet.
He gently pushed her away, struggling to catch his breath, as he wiped the blood from his lips. “I need to rest. You know your task for today, Queen Persephone.”
She pulled at his hand. “Do not be stubborn! Let me help you. You do not have to deal with this alone. I should stay with you!”
Suddenly his eyes shifted and as his black gaze narrowed, anger and lust shone in their depths. His hand shot out, his fingers snaking painfully around her wrist as Persephone gave a small cry of distress. “I am always alone, little girl. I am the Necromancer, I am the King of Death -- and no one touches me,” he whispered. “The line between love and hate is thin and soon it will be crossed. If you do not like love, how will you like hate? It is coming for you, Persephone.” He hissed out her name and the lines on his neck stood out darker against his skin, pulsating with his words. “What will happen when love turns to resentment, my Queen?” Suddenly his expression cleared and as he let go of her wrist, she realized for the first time he looked afraid. “Go, Persephone,” he said softly. “Go and do not return to this room.” He grasped the dagger that still lay on the bed and tucked it into her hands, closing her fingers over it. “Be a formidable queen -- for me.”
Chapter 17 - Formidable Queen
◆◆◆
Persephone fled from the room and she wiped impatiently at the tears on her face that would not stop flowing. The madness was closing in on him, the curse was drawing to it’s inevitable conclusion and she could not bear it. His mind was growing darker and his body weaker and soon there would be nothing left of the strong King who had once ruled this Underworld. Dear Gods, she had played her part in destroying him, and now he would not let her help him. He would lock himself in Tartarus, living out whatever remained of his eternal life with those wretched evil souls that he had sentenced there.
“He cannot be around Cronos in this condition,” she whispered to herself. “He cannot be around the monsters he has punished. I will help him if he will not do it himself.” The words were a vow on her lips as she made her way to the throne room.
The room was full as she pushed open the doors and all eyes turned to her. She almost stepped back, hating being the center of attention, but then she remembered his words. Be a formidable Queen.
She would, she would do it for him. She would do it for the innocent souls who resided in this Kingdom. She raised her head, taking her time to walk across the marbled floor before she took a seat on the ebony throne. Her heart contracted at the sight of Hades’ empty chair, but she kept her face expressionless. One of the judges approached her and she looked up recognizing that it was Aeacus. He was frowning.
He knelt to the ground. “My Queen, here is the schedule for today.” He handed her the scroll, and she pulled it open, her brow furrowing.
“This list holds only one name, Aeacus. Where are the other names?”
Aeacus looked up to her, his ancient eyes looking into her own. “Your husband came in early and judged all the souls. However, he felt that this last soul required your expertise and he left his judgement to you.”
Persephone leaned back against the cold stone of her throne and breathed deeply, trying to calm her racing heart. Hades trusted her to decide eternity for this soul. She would not disappoint him. “Let him in.”
The guards brought in a man and threw him to the ground. Persephone looked down at him, taking in his disheveled blond hair and sweet blue eyes.
“Tell me your name.”
The man bowed his head, avoiding her gaze, “Goddess, my name is Theo.”
“And what is your crime, Theo?”
The judges interrupted, “My queen, this man’s crime…”
Lifting a hand, she interjected, “I would like to hear what Theo has to say.”
Theo looked up at her then, his eyes clear and true. “My queen, I died fighting a man who attacked my wife. My crime is that I snuck to Hypnos’ cave in the Underworld – to steal poppies and make a draught to put you and your husband to sleep so I could return to my body above.”
The judges once again interrupted, “He tried to cheat death, your highness! Hades will not tolerate such behavior. It is a certain sentence to Tartarus.”
Persephone sat higher on her throne and turned to glance down upon the judges. “But I am not my husband and he is not here.”
Theo had piqued her interest about the sleeping draught. This could be what she needed to help Hades. She stepped down from her throne and stood by the young man bowed at her feet. Her intuition told her he was an honest man, a husband who loved his wife. A man who had only tried to avenge her. She bent to Theo, pressing her fingers to his temples as Hades did and as she moved forward, she whispered in his ear,
“Where does Hypnos reside?”
He looked up at her in surprise, but kept his voice very low as he replied, “He lives in a cave by the River Lethe. A cavern surrounded by poppies.”
“Thank you,” she whispered. Persephone stood and moved back towards her throne, “Tell me, why you would risk your soul’s eternal fate to cheat death?” she asked in a loud voice.
Theo calm eyes filled with despair, “My queen, a man forced himself on my wife, I came home catching him in the act. We scuffled and we both died in the fight. Now my wife is alone in the world. There is no one to comfort her after that bastard’s assault on her.”
“I see.” Persephone calmly looked back towards the judges. “Where is this man now?”
The judges convened for a moment and then Minos, or maybe it was Rhadamanthus, pointed at their list, “Rastus is to be judged tomorrow, my Queen.”
She looked back down at Theo, seeing the streaks of sorrow on his face. “Bring him in now.”
“But your majesty--” the judges exclaimed
“Now,” she said in a cool voice.
After several moments Rastus was dragged into the throne room. The tall doors slammed behind him and Persephone observed the young man. He was tall and muscular, rather attractive actually, but his eyes were mean and sly. Persephone stood by the throne, the light glittering off her diamond toga.
“Is it true you forced yourself on this man’s wife?”
Rastus looked at her with a grin, “No, your majesty. Does it look like I would have to force anyone? She begged me for it.”
Theo’s scream of rage echoed from across the room. “Liar! I saw it with my own eyes.”
Persephone put her hand up to silence Theo, then she stepped closer to Rastus. “I will ask you again. Did you rape his wife?”
Rastus looked her up and down, his gaze lingering on her breasts and his voice sneered in distaste. “I’m not afraid of Hades's pathetic flower queen. Let the King judge me, I answer to no bitch.” With that, he spat at her feet.
She looked down at the young man and moved slowly towards him. “Oh but you should be afraid Rastus. I am the Queen of the Underworld and I deal in death.” She weaved her hands and heavy black vines chained him down to the floor, wrapping tightly around his limbs, and twisting around his neck until he began to make gurgling noises, his eyes bulging in fear as he clawed desperately at the vines. A small vine grew and slithered up his face. It went into his ear and pushed its way deep into his brain and Rastus screamed in agony.
The Queen knelt down to him as an ebony flower blossomed from one of the vines and as it opened a drop of ruby blood dripped from it’s center. She whispered to the blossom, “Did you rape her?”
The plant probed his mind, contracting and constricting until the vines around his nec
k made him choke out the truth, “Yes,” he screamed.
She looked at the Judges, standing calmly. “Castrate him. Send him to Tartarus. Take Theo back to earth and put his soul back into his body.”
The Judges looked at one another, shock on their faces. “But my lady---”
“You have questioned me for a second time, you will not get a third time.” She knew they did not approve, that they did not accept her, and she did not give a damn. She looked back at them, her hair falling over her face. “I have made my decision. I did not ask for your opinion. Now follow your orders.” They straightened hastily and Persephone almost laughed as they stumbled over each other, shouting orders to remove Rastus from the throne room.
She paused for the briefest moment, and her heart skipped a beat as she felt a presence, a soft touch against her soul. She had felt it before, she realized with wonder, when she had touched the golden flower in the meadow and again in the Cave of Souls. It was achingly familiar, sweet and perfect as it moved against her.
“Hades,” she whispered softly. It was as if her husband had been watching her from afar, wrapping her in his arms, offering her the comfort she desperately sought but could never ask for. The minute she sensed it and tried to grasp it, the feeling vanished and she was left alone once again. She blinked, brining the dark throne room into focus.
Persephone moved towards Theo, bending down to take his hands, bringing him to his feet, “I hope you live a long happy life with your wife. We will meet again one day. Until that time, enjoy every blissful second above ground.”
“My queen,” he breathed, “how can I ever repay you?”
“You already have,” she whispered. “Live well, Theo.”
Chapter 18 - Poppies
◆◆◆
Persephone headed quickly to the stables looking for Aethon, her footsteps quiet on the marble floors. Theo had given her a way to aid her husband and she would pursue it regardless of the costs. She rode bareback to the Lythe and the horse's hooves rumbled beneath her, the fabric of her skirts slicing the wind as it flew behind her.
“Faster Aethon,” she urged, as she bent low over the mare. “Take me to Hypnos, take me to the Cave of the Poppies -- for Hades! Fly for Hades!” Aethon let out a huff of air and she knew the horse understood.
It was a matter of life and death; the death of Hades’ sanity if she could not find the means to help him. She rode past the calm river, past the strange glittering gems reflected in its blue depths. She rode until her legs ached, she rode until Aethon’s sides were heaving. Then she saw it. Clenching her legs against the horse she jumped lithely from its back. It was as Theo described; bright red flowers grew from the entrance of the dark cavern and she hesitated only a moment before she made her way into its dark and shadowy depths.
She walked carefully into the cave. It was so dark she could not even see her feet to watch her step and she felt herself falter, unsure of the way. She bent, trying to catch her breath, hyperventilating as demons and men flashed through her mind and she let out a cry of rage. How long had the darkness scared her? What had Hades said? What is the light without the dark? Darkness was merely part of the light, it was nothing to be afraid of. Men and demons did not define it. Without the night there were no stars. The dark held a beauty all its own and she let the shadows move over her, relishing their gentle embrace. She raised her head, taking another step forward and then another, when a slow soothing voice echoed in the blackness.
“Neither light nor wind makes its way here, and yet the King’s sun enters.” It was Hypnos, the God of Sleep. She could make out a figure, blacker than the darkness of the cave as he made his way towards her. A long thin veil covered him completely and when he reached her, bony fingers grasped her hand, raising it to his covered mouth to kiss it softly. “You do not visit my kingdom often, Persephone, your nightmares keep you awake. They keep you from me.”
“I have not come to talk about my dreams, Hypnos,” Persephone said slowly, as Hypnos began to circle her.
He turned from her then, templing his skeletal finger tips together and his dreamlike voice turned almost childlike. “In dreams we find our deepest desires, our secret fears. To know the dream of another is to know their soul. I collect them, I keep them. In dreams we can truly live. I know you dream of another’s kiss.” He began to move back towards her, his dark veil blowing gently at his feet. “I see you in your husband's dreams. They are filled with you, my child. His visions of you are very... engrossing.”
“It is because of my husband that I am here,” Persephone said, her voice growing sluggish. She pushed her hair from her face, forcing her mind to focus. She would not allow him to draw her down a rabbit hole, she was done playing games. “I need the flowers from around your home. Tell me your price.”
“Why not just grow them yourself?” he asked, his soft voice moving gently in the darkness.
“I need your poppies, strong ones, to put the King to sleep. I need a spell cast on the flowers.” She stifled a yawn behind her hand, her eyelids drooping briefly.
Behind the veil, Hypnos smiled and Persephone shivered. “Oh, I cannot deny that the thought of having the King of the Underworld in my kingdom for an extended amount of time does not please me. I can give you the strongest flowers I have,” he said, “I know why you need them. I have seen it in both your nightmares.” He was silent then whispered in a melody, “I see everything in your dreams.”
She forced her slumbrous eyes up to his veiled face, pushing back the anxiety his words conjured. There was no time for fear anymore. “I know what haunts my dreams. Take me to the poppies.”
“As you wish, my Queen.” Suddenly he grabbed her arm and led her further back into the cave. It was blacker than night and the air was stifling as they moved swiftly through the shadows. In the blackness she could make out the vague form of a man sleeping on a bed of ebony marble and she jumped in surprise. Hypnos put a finger to his lips. “Shhhhh. Do not wake him.” Further he led her back into the darkness, until finally he stopped and she felt him suck in a deep breath. A sweet, nutty smell filled the cavern and Persephone almost stumbled against the lethargy that had stolen over her. “Kneel, my queen.” She hesitated then unsteadily fell to the ground as she felt his hand move over hers, brushing her fingers against soft, satiny leaves. “These are the stoutest, these that grow in the darkest of places,” he whispered in a gentle hush. She began to gather the flowers as quickly as possible, blind in the blackness, frantic as she felt sleep pulling at her eyelids, languor wrapping around her mind. The flowers beneath her were soft against her skin and she felt her body relax into them as her eyelids began to droop.
“I should let you rest,” the enchanting voice said from behind the veil. “Your dreams are particularly violent and I relish the break from the tedium of the mundane. But your husband will find you and your plan will be for naught. I for one prefer not to be ruled by a mad King.” She felt bony fingers wrap around her arm and looked down, seeing the skeletal hands pulling at her flesh.
“Why did I come here?” she whispered, her mind struggling to remember even as her eyes closed. Those hands grasped her more tightly, lifting her paralyzed body from the floor and she drifted as her body moved gently in his arms. She blinked as cold air suddenly filled her lungs and she realized she could see the night sky. Hades, her mind whispered. She must hurry. He bent to lay her gently at the foot of the cave and she stood slowly, turning to face Hypnos. He was holding the brilliant poppies, wrapped tightly in red silk and they regarded each other over the offered bouquet, his skeletal hands wrapped tightly around the stems. Why did taking the flowers from this strange God seem like a betrayal to her husband? He trusted her to protect his Kingdom, but he would not trust her to protect him.
A smile curved the thin slash of mouth she could see just beyond the veil. “Are you sure you wish to travel down this path, young one? Hades is strong, my child. You must make a
stout drink if you want him to fall asleep
. You will need to keep flowers by his bedside once he is slumbering. Lift his head and make him drink more elixir regularly to keep the spell going. Do not let him wake up.” He grabbed her by the arm then, so tightly she knew she would have bruises. “Do not play games with your husband unless you are certain you will win. He is a formidable foe who will sacrifice himself to watch his enemies burn. Tread carefully lest you find yourself on the wrong side of his wrath.”
She nodded her head and she felt Aethon approach behind her. She already knew that if her plan worked, if she was able to save Hades, he may never forgive her. For the price of his life, it was a sacrifice she was willing to make -- the final gift to a man who would save everyone but himself. She grasped Atheon's mane gently, pulling herself up on her broad back.
“I have set a course and I will follow it to the end, come what may. The poppies,” she demanded, extending her hand towards him.
“Oh, how you have changed, gentle one,” he said softly, his head tilted up towards her as he brushed his hand over the poppies, “Strange is it not, that you would risk everything to protect a man you do not love?” The wind rippled through the fabric of his gown as dark eyes burned at her from behind the cloth. She said nothing and he motioned his hands towards the heavens, “The man from the forest. He is coming for you.”
She circled around him on Aethon and Hypnos handed her the bouquet, her cool fingers brushing against his bony ones. “I will be ready when he comes.”
“Caution, my queen. He is growing darker.”
Persephone urged Aethon forward, glancing back at Hypnos’s black figure hovering in the distance. He was coming. She forced herself to look ahead. It was time to close this chapter; her past was coming for her and when it arrived she would be there to meet it. The scent of the poppies weighed both her and Aethon down, the mares hooves stumbling as they flew over the shore next to the Lethe. What had Hades discovered in the depths of those blue waters? The poppies in her hands gleamed in the darkness. “He only needs to be asleep for a couple of hours before the Pluto-Venus transit ends,” she whispered. Aethon began to slow as the stables came in to view and she quickly dismounted, leading Aethon to her stall and escaping quietly back up to her room. She threw her cape on her bed and turned the lock in her door. It would keep out the servants, and Hades would not seek her again. Time was ticking now and every second mattered. Olive trotted over to her from the bed and Persephone stroked his soft ear as she began to lay out the poppies. She walked to her bed and searched carefully, giving a little shout of satisfaction as she plucked a black hair from one of the pillows.
Hades And Persephone: Curse Of The Golden Arrow Page 22
