Receiver of Many

by Rachel Alexander

  Hades’s left hand pressed hard into the stone, and he closed his eyes to concentrate on his task. Slabs cracked apart, grinding loudly as shards of obsidian burst from the wall, their surfaces smoothing into the shape of stairs. He walked forward once again, guiding her down. Their pathway appeared before them as they went, a new set of stairs created a few steps ahead of where their feet landed. At the bottom, the pathway circled about a column and Persephone held the torch aloft.

  The column was ringed with pitted recesses, heavy chains hanging down to secure the arms of the Titans above their heads. In a dark alcove, a giant of a man covered only by a loincloth, his body as still as stone, hung by his wrists. When the torch flared in front of his face, his baleful eyes opened and narrowed. He looked down at Persephone and cracked a threatening grin. It was then that she saw the thick scar ringing his neck.

  “Demeter’s daughter…” he rasped in a barely audible whisper before showing her his teeth, yellowed by aeons spent as a prisoner of Tartarus.

  Iapetos. Hades glared up at him, and Persephone took a step back.

  “Not as shapely as her mother…” The chained Titan laughed dryly. His whispered voice was hoarse and broken, painful sounding, when he tried to shout. “Kreios! Hyperion! Wake up! Demeter’s daughter is here…”

  Hades clenched his jaw, saying nothing. Persephone heard the rattle of chains from the other side of the column as the Titans stirred.

  “Well, Hades,” Iapetos sneered, “after all this time you finally claimed your reward for separating my head from my body. And what a reward she is! To think I nearly impaled her in the womb… though now I can think of a spear far better to—”

  “Silence!” Fifty voices shook dust from the alcoves, booming and echoing across the chamber. She watched as the chains pulled tighter around Iapetos, his head slamming against the rocks behind him, the links pressing into his throat. Persephone felt heavy footfall shake the ground, then cease.

  “Come,” Hades said quietly, his face transfixed and emotionless. They walked away from Iapetos, a wide grin on the Titan’s face, his shoulders shaking in a silent laugh.

  Immense hands with thick iron fingernails came into view, flattened against the stone floor. As they walked, she saw another hand, then another, then the fifty heads of Briareos already bowed low to her. He rose. Though she could barely tell Gyges and Kottos apart, their eldest triplet was unmistakable— darker, taller, more strongly built, if such a thing were possible. “Forgive me, my queen… my lord.”

  She curtsied to him. “For what?”

  “For allowing him to speak.” His voices rumbling in unison made her nauseous, just as when his brother Kottos spoke to her through the ether in Nysa.

  “There is no need to apologize, Briareos. I’ve come here to see them— and to speak with them, if I must,” she said quietly. “To know even the lowest parts of the realm I rule with my husband.”

  “Very well,” Briareos said.

  She nervously cleared her throat. “Where is he?”

  “Persephone, please…” her husband whispered.

  “Hades, I must,” she said quietly, using the only name he went by in Tartarus. “How else can I understand what you’ve endured all these years?”

  Any other way, he thought. He thinned his lips and closed his eyes. She ran her thumb over his knuckle until he loosened his iron grip on her hand. It had to be done, he thought; otherwise why come all this way? And he had said that she was his equal. Though for Aidoneus, the very idea that he had any say in her position was laughable now, after what Kottos had told them.

  “I will stay nearby, Praxidike,” Briareos said solemnly, moving beside the alcove next to them. She stood no taller than the bone in his ankle. Persephone walked with Hades around the corner, staring at the heavy chains extending upward, wrapped around the base. “If you need anything, my queen…”

  “Thank you, Briareos,” she said. Her husband’s steps become heavier and she could feel every sinew in his hand tighten as he held hers. They rounded the corner of the alcove. Piercing dark eyes stared at her from under black brows and she almost shook, unnerved.

  He was at least a hand’s span taller than his son, his height exaggerated by his elevated place chained to the rocks. His arms were looped above him like the others. His features were sharper. Harder. More strongly set, at least from what she could see under his gray-streaked beard. His hair was shoulder length, waves of black tinged with gray at the temples. But his eyes, the set of his jaw, his neck, his shoulders, were unsettlingly familiar— no— identical to those of her husband.

  “My favorite son.” His voice dripped with honey. “How long has it been since you last honored me with your presence? Ten, maybe twelve thousand years?”

  Aidoneus remained silent.

  “No greeting for me, then? Not even an introduction to our newly descended Queen of the Underworld?”

  “Kronos,” Persephone said quietly.

  “There, you see, Hades? She can manage it— how hard is it to be civil?” Kronos turned his attentions back to Persephone and dipped his head in as much of a bow as the chains would let him, but kept his eyes locked with hers, like an eagle eyeing its next meal. “You are very welcome here, Queen Persephone. Demeter’s daughter by Zeus, if I’m not mistaken?”

  “I am,” she said. Even in the lowest part of Tartarus he carried a regal air, as though he were receiving Persephone in his own court. He spoke as though the chains wrapped around his torso, legs and arms weren’t there, or that he somehow meant for them to bind him, and could shrug the irons off at any moment.

  “And what a fantastic mess Demeter is making. My poor sweet mother, Gaia. You Olympians are proving to be poor stewards of creation. It’s a wonder you’ve lasted this long.”

  “I am no longer an Olympian,” Persephone said calmly, “and my mother will end this soon enough.”

  He smirked. “Of course you’re not. My apologies. But that doesn't exempt you or your husband from your shared fate. And your choice of wording is… interesting.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  He stretched and sighed pleasurably, closing his eyes. “I can feel them weakening. The Chains draw all their strength from those who rule the cosmos. And thanks to you, dear Queen, they will break soon enough.”

  “She has nothing to do with this,” Hades hissed, stepping forward.

  “Ah, he speaks! For a moment I thought you were Iapetos’s son instead of mine,” Kronos said with a grin, ignoring Iapetos’s shifting chains on the opposite side of the column. “Somehow, I think the Fates knew of my return to power when they left the earth without anyone to rule it directly. Nature abhors a vacuum, after all. And who knew poor Demeter would exploit this weakness to hold the earth hostage, hmm? I suppose that you only have as good an earth as the goddess you put in charge of its bounty— and how well you treat her. And you, Hades, as well as your brothers, have treated her poorly. My wife took good care of the earth. Unlike Zeus, I only forsook my marriage the one time. No more. I treated Rhea well.”

  “My very existence is proof that you did not,” Hades said quietly. Persephone turned to him, shocked. She realized quickly what he meant and faced Kronos again, trying to regain her composure.

  “Unsurprising that you didn’t tell her about the manner of your making,” the deposed king said. “I wonder what else you’ve hidden from her.”

  “Hades is sworn to tell me the truth,” she blurted out, unnerved. She immediately regretted the outburst, angry with herself that she’d given him leverage over her. She felt her defenses crumbling, a hum of sharp energy permeating her.

  “Of course he is, if you know which questions to ask,” he grinned, “sweet one.”

  Her heart dropped into her stomach when he used Aidoneus’s favorite endearment for her. Kronos looked her up and down. The lascivious trail of his eyes on her skin didn’t escape Hades and she felt rage start to overflow from him. Her stomach roiled as she thought about how mu
ch she loved that same look on her husband’s face, about how similar the Titan’s face and voice were to his. That familiar gaze looked twisted, predatory, and unsettling on Kronos.

  “I loved my wife. And of my children I suppose I liked you the best, Hades, because you were the instrument by which Rhea finally surrendered to me. At least until she betrayed me. But I knew that was coming. It was fixed by fate…”

  They remained silent, and Persephone was overcome with the same electric prickling she felt when they first arrived in Tartarus, stronger this time. She held tight to Hades’s hand, running her thumb over his shaking fingers.

  “But back to this business in the world above…” Kronos said dispassionately. “Now that you’re face to face with me, my queen, I can finally speak honestly with you. I may be chained down here, but I’m still a Titan— one of the gods of time and prophecy whose task it was to safeguard the cosmos. I suppose that’s why the usurpers kept us alive.”

  He threw a glance at Hades, his eyes slitted. Her husband remained unmoved.

  “Surely even you can sense that the world has been thrown out of balance. Too much has changed; too many of the mortals these gods above rely upon have perished. It’s only a matter of time before I’m free. You might as well embrace it.”

  “I suppose you want me to free you then, hmm? I imagine you offer all manner of rewards to me if I do?” She said with a smirk.

  “I’m sure someone told you at one time that you were very clever, but make no mistake. My escape from these bonds is an inevitability. Truthfully, I’d rather it occurred before these petty gods above destroy the cosmos. And that is where you come in, my dear. The Hekatonkheires told you what I also believe to be true. You are both the eldest— rightful rulers of the cosmos. By that right, you and your husband are the only ones who can set me free. And if you do, I will give him his birthright and you yours.”

  “I highly doubt that.” Hades said, calmly. “If memory serves, your desire was for nothing less than absolute power. And my memory serves me very well.”

  “I’ve had time to reconsider, perhaps even atone, my son. And you’ve been denied your due long enough, wouldn’t you say?” He turned once more to Persephone, smiling. “How would you like to sit the throne of heaven, my queen?”

  “There is nothing you could possibly offer that I do not already have. My husband—”

  “I can give you what he cannot,” Kronos said. The Lord of Souls shifted on his feet, seething, almost ready to lunge at the Titan. His father delighted in the reaction.

  The electric hum pulsing through her intensified painfully and Persephone watched Tartarus disappear, melting away. She blinked and looked around, alone, her surroundings white, marble amidst the clouds. She couldn’t see Kronos, but felt his presence nonetheless. “This is an illusion.”

  “Indeed,” Kronos’s voice intoned, unseen. “But I knew you’d understand that. I would never presume that you were simple.”

  Persephone blinked again and the scene changed. She sat on a white throne, her body clothed in robes woven so finely that they shown iridescent, their threads heavily dyed with saffron. Her tresses flowed loosely from a gold diadem of stars. Long sheaves of silvery wheat sat in the crook of her elbow, and in her left hand sat a coiled bronze nautilus.

  Aidoneus sat next to her, his skin kissed by the sun, his hand wrapped around a staff crested with a golden eagle. A Golden laurel crowned his head, and he leaned over and laid his hand reverently on her rounded belly. She flinched for a moment in surprise, then intertwined her hand with his. Together they smoothed their palms over the hard swell of life underneath, feeling their son kick at her in response…

  “Persephone, don’t listen to him!” Her husband’s voice shouted from far away.

  This isn’t real…

  The hand on her womb tensed in anger. She looked back at the king next to her. His appearance had shifted to that of Kronos, his eyes cruel and clouded with madness. She threw the nautilus and sheaves of wheat to the floor and yanked the starry crown off her head, running down the dais and headlong toward the great open terrace. The land below her burned, fires consuming all from the foothills to the horizon, the scent of death carrying up to where she stood. Kronos, dressed in ancient bronze armor, his sickle in hand, wandered the razed plains of Thessaly standing twelve times taller, plucking Olympian gods out of their war chariots, swallowing them whole, absorbing their strength. Artemis. Hermes. Athena. She put her hand over her mouth and muffled a scream when she saw her thrashing mother disappear past Kronos’s teeth. Large hands gripped her shoulders from behind and she stood stock-still.

  “Time and prophecy were mine and my brothers’ domain— the past, the present, the future. Every harvest and planting and fallow. No matter what chains bind me, they are my domain, still,” he said softly, bending forward to speak next to her ear. “I saw the visions of my children overthrowing me as clearly as what you see before you and around you now. I knew I would be here, and I knew I would speak to you. Consider what I am showing you a gift, Persephone. I am giving you the privilege of knowing what will happen if you free me and what will happen if you do not. I would seat you and Aidoneus as the regents of the earth, the seas and the sky. The Olympians will be your vassals; your servants. You will kneel only to me.”

  She surveyed the scorched earth below, then turned on her heels to face him. “And what of the mortals?”

  “The Men of Iron’s suffering will be ended for all time. They will return to the peaceful place of their birth in the Underworld and there they will stay, as Chaos first intended. Prometheus’s heretical acts will be… set right.” He took a step toward her, edging her backward until she stood at the edge of the open terrace, the ground far below. “Under my guidance, the living world will belong once more to those who live forever. You alone, Iron Queen, will decide if the mortals return mercifully or violently. Say the word, Persephone. Let your beloved husband break my chains. The cosmos will be mine once more and peace will be restored. But if you do not—”

  Kronos pushed hard at the center of her chest, sending her flying. Persephone tilted heels over head, falling backward off the mountain. The ground and the sky traded places, following one another ever faster, burning Thessaly looming closer with each turn of her body through the air. This was an illusion. She did not cry out. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. The fall seemed to last forever. Her back hit the ground below and knocked the air out of her before she stood up and dusted herself off. The fine saffron robes and the growing life inside her were gone, replaced with a stained chiton ripped half way down the center. Her hair was matted and dirty. She clasped the tatters of the chiton over her breast and held the open side to cover her nakedness. Embers swirled about her. The bones of women, men, children, and livestock littered the ground amidst charred oak trees hollowed out by fire.

  “No!” She heard her husband’s scream from behind her and turned toward his voice. “Please, no! Persephone!” Aidon struggled, chained to a slab of rock, just as her father Zeus had bound Prometheus. An eagle circled him and landed, digging its talons into his abdomen. She looked away as its beak tore at his liver, his pain muffled behind gritted teeth. He screamed only her name. “Persephone!”

  This isn’t real. This isn’t real…

  “—I will destroy all you have ever loved—” Kronos growled.

  “Aidon!”

  Persephone heard her voice, but she wasn’t the one who screamed. She saw a vision of herself mere steps away, barely dressed in the same ruined chiton, flailing, caught underneath the Tyrant, his body moving upon her as she screamed for her husband to save her. Her wrists cracked in the grip of his fists. He licked salt tears and sweat from her neck, cheek and breasts.

  “—and save him for last,” his eyes met hers and he spoke between violent thrusts.

  She watched the woman under him, her future self— no, she mustn’t think that way— scream and cry, then stare straight at her and go silent. Her
eyes became cold and dead, accepting her violation, her mind separating from her body, all hope lost. She stared blankly at Aidoneus in chains as he screamed in anger and struggled in vain to escape and save her, tears streaming down his face at his utter helplessness.

  “I will rape you sweetly. Thoroughly— before your lover’s eyes. And you will submit, desire and crave me before the end. If you please me, I’ll even let you look on him one last time before I devour you.” He looked down to the illusory Persephone gone silent underneath him and pushed faster. His sounds were sickening— animalistic as he bit at her shoulder and sucked at the hollow beside her neck. “Mmm, gods… you remind me so much of Rhea, sweet one. When I have you like this, you look just like her. You even taste like her…”

  This isn’t real. This isn’t real. This isn’t real…

  “Enough!” Persephone shouted.

  She blinked and was in Tartarus once more. Her husband’s hand gripped hers painfully, shaking. She could feel his anguish and knew at once that he had seen everything Kronos had shown her. His jaw was clenched. His face was a stone mask but in the way he squeezed her fingers, she could feel him screaming as loudly as he had in Kronos’s vision. A single tear slid down her cheek as she felt raw dread rolling through him. The Titan king stood chained against the wall once more, his shoulders back, a triumphant smile decorating his face. His features softened.

  “Who could blame you for the decision you know you must make?” he said softly. “I can assure you that he will not. I know my son better than you, my queen. He will free me if you ask it of him, and later he will cherish and praise you for your courage.”

  She thought back to this morning, watching Aidon scrub at his skin with pumice, the scar left by his father’s cruelty slashed across his back. Her eyes watered for only a moment.