Destroyer of Light

by Rachel Alexander

  “But there isn’t a jewel in this crown, or in this kingdom, that compares to her beauty. The peace this realm brings me pales in comparison to the calm and happiness she brings me, and I will never love anything in this cosmos more than I love her.”

  He resumed his seat beside her. A tear fell down her cheek and he brushed it away with his thumb. “Welcome home, wife.”

  Persephone threaded her hands into the hair at his temples and pulled his face toward hers, kissing him firmly. The room broke into applause, accompanied by a whistle from Hermes.

  Aidoneus turned to the gathered crowd. “And I expect all to attend our wedding ceremony!” The crowd cheered, and Persephone froze. Wedding ceremony? They’d discussed one briefly before she’d left, but hadn’t planned anything so… momentous. And there was so much she needed to ask him first. “But for now, feast! All of you! E-except those from the world above.” A few laughed, and Hermes and Hephaestus exchanged looks of warning. Music and conversation filled the room. The Lampades resumed their dance, crimson handkerchiefs linking their hands in a wide circle.

  Persephone swallowed. “Aidon…”

  “Yes, my love?”

  “I need to speak to you, privately.”

  “Of course.” He smiled at her, then leaned in close to her ear. “I’ve been waiting for three months to speak to you in private.”

  He nipped at her earlobe and she shivered, then pulled back.

  “What’s wrong?” His face fell.

  “Before we…” Persephone stared at him for a long moment, listening to the revelry surrounding them. Her mouth lifted into a forced smile. “Nothing. It’s not important.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “It can wait.” She kissed him again. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too,” he said. He looked away and she felt him stir with emotion. When his eyes met hers again, they had those same flecks of gold she had seen when she first confessed her true feelings for him. “It feels as though it were longer and… I can hardly believe I have you here again beside me.”

  “Aidon,” she smiled and her eyes were refreshed with more tears. Discussing children could wait. He had worked so hard, so long to plan this grand welcome for her. He had missed her, profoundly, as surely as she had missed him, and it showed in every glimmer of light that greeted her, every careful preparation he’d made, the weight of the diadem on her head. Though the splinter of doubt stuck within her, in this moment she would celebrate their reunion. She smiled broadly. “Can you believe it? The pomegranate worked! I’m actually here… we’re still married…”

  “They are weaving us a new tapestry. To celebrate our marriage.”

  This is where we started, Persephone. And one day Clotho, Lachesis and Atropos will weave a tapestry that tells our story.

  “The Fates? Truly?”

  “A continuing gift from them, they say, for my allowing them to reside in this realm. They wove the last tapestry aeons ago. This one shows you and I in the pomegranate grove, Nyx told me. But she said it almost looks like we’re in the world above, there are so many green things growing. The whole scene is framed in narcissus and golden arrows.”

  “I don’t think greenery is out of place… the grove is still covered in grasses and moss. A flower did grow there.” She blushed hotly, recalling the last time both of them were there, and exactly how that flower had appeared. “They…er, it’s fit to hang in the main hall isn’t it? I mean, they didn’t portray us in the midst of…”

  Aidon threw back his head and laughed. “Nyx said we are standing side by side, not unlike how we are depicted in the Plutonion.” He brushed his nose past her cheek and kissed her again before whispering into her ear. “But if you desire, we could commission something like that for our bedroom. Though I cannot imagine that any artist could truly capture how beautiful you look when you—”

  “Oh, Aidoneus, honestly!” she said smacking his chest.

  He captured Persephone’s lips again, then opened his eyes and peered around her, a scowl briefly crossing his features when he pulled away from her. “And this is?”

  Persephone turned to see who had interrupted them. “Oh! Forgive me! Minthe, I want to introduce you to my husband, Aidoneus.”

  Minthe swallowed and curtsied low. “My lord.”

  “You brought a servant with you?”

  “After a fashion,” she said. If she mentioned Demeter’s insistence on bringing her along, it would ruin the evening. “I consider Minthe a friend. A companion.”

  Aidon gave the woman a brief nod. “Any friend of my wife is welcome here. You are a naiad, no?”

  “I am. Cocytid.”

  “Ah,” he said, squinting at her. She looked familiar…

  “I’m not really from… I know I don’t look it, milord. I’m too fair. But m-my mother was fair, so…” Minthe’s eyes grew as wide as saucers. She stumbled back as Alekto, one of the Erinyes, meandered over to the dais, kantharos cups in each hand, wings spread behind her.

  “Are you going to sit here and make eyes at him all night,” she asked Persephone, “or are you going to go out and greet your guests? Some of us came a long way…”

  “Don’t tease my wife, Alekto,” Hades said with a smirk. “We’ll greet everyone soon enough.”

  “The Iron Queen cannot take a jest?” Alekto smirked at Persephone. “Here I was, certain that Praxidike’s patience with us was as bountiful as her will. That’s what Kottos said, at least. Anyway, you must taste this!”

  Persephone raised her eyebrow at the cup Alekto thrust in front of her. “Wine?”

  The daemon snickered. “Not exactly. Nothing ferments down here. What’s sacrificed to the dead cannot rot!” She smiled at them, her tightly wound hair glistening like coiled asps. “But this is as close as it gets. It’s the juice of crushed pomegranate arils mixed with nectar. That sky queen’s idea, according to Hermes.”

  Hera’s gift, made with the ambrosia she’d sent. Drink no wine, eat no bread… Persephone pulled her husband’s gaze to hers quizzically, saying nothing.

  “Not a regular thing, mind you, but I thought we could drink to your return.” His accompanying smile calmed her concerns.

  “Thank you,” she said, accepting the cup. A sip of the nectar swamped her senses and she felt grateful she hadn’t tried any on Olympus. Her husband took a long draught, finishing the cup quickly.

  “I told Tisiphone and Megaera to keep that little dog Hermes occupied so he wouldn’t nip at your heels all night long. Besides— I have an inkling that Tisiphone secretly likes him. Or likes torturing him. We’ll see.” Alekto placed her splayed fingers over her heart. “And why haven’t you paid us a visit in Tartarus? Surely if you can look on the Hekatonkheires’ ugly faces you can stand to spend some time with us when you come below the Ouroboros. Oh! I thought you’d be happy to know that we’re keeping that wicked little king busy with his boulder.” She laughed and clapped her hands. “I loved it! Even better than what your husband devised for Tantalus. But truly, come visit us. We’ll give you a better tour of the place than this dusty old bag of bones, that’s for sure!”

  The King of the Underworld snorted and shook his head. “Thank you, Alekto.”

  “Any time.” She bowed to him and skipped away toward her sisters, calling out over her shoulder. “At least dance already, will you? So the rest of us can?”

  Aidoneus chuckled and offered his wife his hand. She stood with him, and they descended the steps to the floor together. The Lampades wove a wide circle in the center of the room, their feet tapping out the simple dance, ten steps forward, two back, to drum beats and clapping, and the shrill melody of the pipes. Hermes stood between Megaera and Tisiphone, stiff as a board, muttering something to them. Tisiphone smacked him on the back and bellowed a laugh, exposing her sharp teeth. Hephaestus shuffled quietly to a corner of the room, favoring his right leg; Hecate sauntered up to him and said something that made him smile.

  All eyes turned to the center of th
e hall as Hades and Persephone made their way into the midst of the circling Lampades. The music changed to a slower syrtos, and Aidon clasped his wife’s right hand within his and turned in a circle with her. They wound around each other, and he led her into a twirl before grasping her close and spinning with her in his arms. They laughed and others joined them in dancing and revelry.

  No one noticed the pale nymph slip from the room.

  ***

  He is a creature of nothingness. Master of all things dead. Taciturn. Cold. Demeter’s words solidified her resolve. He will sap the life from her. All that is warm and good. And she will let him because she loves him with a love that cannot be returned. My Kore will become nothing more than a husk.

  When Charon had taken her hand, Minthe feared that he would see into her soul and toss her off the side of his boat. The Styx had no bottom. She would have sunk into the unknown waters for eternity. She shuddered and drew in a long breath, summoning her courage. It had to be done. It had to be done to save Kore from centuries of torment… the same agony her beloved mother had endured… a love that could not be returned, offered to one who was incapable of such a thing.

  Only you can accomplish this, Minthe, the goddess had said. You are ageless, faithful one, and when you return, once you’ve saved my daughter, I will make you deathless as well. You will be the new Goddess of Sweet Herbs.

  It was frigid here, compared to above, and goose flesh prickled her skin. She crept along the wall and felt solid stone behind the tapestries and searched for a gap that could lead to a staircase. Persephone had mentioned such hidden entries when she had described the palace. Minthe pushed her hand against a tapestry portraying tall cypress trees and celery grass. She met no resistance and stumbled forward. Behind the heavy curtain, a flight of torchlit stairs wound upward.

  …framed in narcissus and golden arrows…

  It would simplify so many things. She had to find it. Everyone knew that Hades had been struck by Eros, the golden arrow’s indomitable power compelling him to abduct Kore from the fields of Nysa. Persephone once told Minthe that Hades had kept the golden arrow on his person until she discovered it. She’d said they quarreled over it, and he’d kept it safely hidden in their room thereafter.

  But where?

  The stairs ended at a set of double doors, a golden poplar tree carved into the wood. Minthe clenched her teeth at the symbol and pushed through the door. Cool air wafted into the darkened room from the terrace. The sound of revelers came from far below, nearly drowned out by the rush of the waterfall. Two divans were placed opposite each other and two goblets filled with pomegranate and nectar sat between them on a small table covered in olives and fruits and goat cheese.

  Minthe took a deformed red stalk of barley out of the pocketed fold of her peplos and ground it between her fingers before emptying the fine granules into both cups. The powder curled and drifted down into the liquid. She held her dusty hands away from her body and walked outside to wash them in the freezing water. Then, Minthe scampered back inside afraid that someone below might see her.

  A subtle glow came from the corner and she followed the line of light cast across the mosaic of stones on the antechamber floor. The naiad pulled open another door, warmth flooding out from within. A raised, curtained bed dominated the far wall, asphodel and myrtle petals strewn about its black sheets. A great fire blazed in the center of the bedroom, ringed by an obsidian hearth, its bright orange flames flickering off the walls. Something moved. She shrieked and clapped her hand over her mouth. Thousands of chunks of polished amber held within the walls, entombing insects and small creatures of which she’d never seen the like. Their shadows danced in the firelight.

  Other than the bed, the room was spare. An ebony chair, a marble table and washing basin, no amphorae, no jars, no boxes to store anything. She twisted her hands and glanced about the room. Surely if Hades were to hide anything that significant and powerful, it would be here in their inner sanctum— the most secure place in the Underworld, possibly in all of the cosmos.

  She sighed and peered into the hearth. What she saw made her heart leap into her throat. The golden arrow lay in the midst of the fire, untouched by the endless purifying flame of the Phlegethon. A god like Hades would be able to reach through the fire unscathed but she would be badly burnt if she attempted it. Minthe searched the room, looking for anything to pull the arrow from the flames, at least enough so she could reach it. She snatched a long razor from the wash basin and turned in over in her hand. Minthe unbound the cloth that held her tresses in place, wrapped it around her hand, and dipped it into the basin, soaking it with cold water.

  The naiad returned to the fire and drew in a breath, willing herself to endure this. She darted her hand into the flame and moved the arrow closer, using the razor as a poker. The cloth came away steaming. She winced and darted in again, hooking the arrowhead with the blade and drawing it out. Her fingertips burned. She made another thrust and the arrow flew from the hearth, clanging to the ground.

  The cloth caught fire and Minthe shook it loose from her singed hand with a yelp, dropping it into the fire. Smoke twisted through the room, smelling faintly of pennyroyal and spearmint. Minthe threw the doors to the room open, letting the smoke disperse, then carefully hid the arrow beside the bed and ran from the room.

  23.

  Persephone scowled. “Demeter said not visiting was my idea?”

  “Believe me, dear queen, I was not so easily fooled,” Hephaestus said with a smile. “No one was. But in her own way, your mother was wise to keep you away from the mountain of the gods. Oftentimes, I find myself wishing I could make my home elsewhere.”

  “Why don’t you?”

  He thinned his lips and looked down.

  “Aphrodite.” She sighed. “Hephaestus, I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be.” He snorted a laugh. “To be honest, I find the reason we are married to be more insulting than any ill-gotten child or dalliance on her part.” Persephone blinked in surprise, and Hephaestus chuckled. “You and I both were married away for duty’s sake. Would that my arranged marriage had turned out as well as yours.”

  Persephone glanced at her husband, who was smiling, visiting with Thanatos and Hypnos, a freshly emptied cup in his hand. His eyes met hers and he stopped listening to the sons of Nyx until Thanatos waved his hand in front of Aidon’s longing gaze. Hypnos belted out a laugh when their king turned back to them, his cheeks crimson. Persephone giggled before turning her attentions back to Hephaestus. “Why not insist she remain faithful?”

  He shook his head. “It isn’t in her nature. I would as soon ask that of Aphrodite as I would try to pin the seafoam that birthed her to the shoreline. When she returned to Olympus from the East, Zeus chose me because I was the safest mate for her. Ares, Apollo, and Hermes all vied for her, but with the power she holds, a union with any one of them would have driven us all to war. Your father at least knows that I cannot rise against him. Fates… I can barely rise at all.”

  Persephone tittered uncomfortably at his self-deprecation. “Do you… You already know I spoke with her…”

  “Yes, she told me all about it. And rest assured, I don’t begrudge you befriending her. On the contrary, if you were her confidant, it would be a great relief. She doesn’t share a bed with me, but desires to share everything else, it seems, and I often find myself counselling her on matters I have no wish to hear about.”

  “Is there anyone to give you comfort since she refuses?”

  He shrugged. “I made my vows and my nature is to adhere to them. There was one I had my heart set on before, who felt kindly toward me in turn, but that time has passed.”

  “Who?”

  “Her name is Aglaea, youngest of the Kharites. An attendant of my wife, no less.” He shifted on his feet. “And I won’t dishonor either of them.”

  Persephone was about to respond when Minthe sauntered up to them, her long golden hair hanging loosely about her shoulders. She gave Persephone
a wide smile, rare for her. Persephone was relieved that the naiad seemed to be enjoying herself. Perhaps her mother was right to encourage her to bring Minthe here. She eyed the cup of pomegranate nectar in the naiad’s hand. “Are you sure you should drink that?”

  “Why ever not?”

  “For the same reason I’m not,” Hephaestus chimed in.

  “I am Cocytid,” Minthe said. She took a long swig of the nectar and smacked her lips. “Even if I ate every morsel of food here, I could still venture above. And as far as I’m concerned, I’m home.”

  Persephone smiled, relieved, then hugged Minthe. The naiad stiffened as the Queen of the Underworld embraced her. “You have no idea how glad I am to hear that. I was so worried that I had agreed to something you didn’t really want, that I was pulling you away from… from…”

  “Eumolpus?” Minthe pulled back and smiled. “He… I wouldn't worry about that. If I am here, and he will one day come here as all men do, what’s the difference?”

  “It isn’t the same, though. I don’t know if Mother told you, but the mortals drink from the Lethe when they arrive. He will still be Eumolpus, just not as you know him to be…”

  “Couldn’t you make that different?”

  If I could, she wanted to reply, but her mouth had grown dry. “Asphodel is what it is for a reason,” she said, echoing her husband.

  “Yes,” Minthe agreed, looking away toward Hypnos, Thanatos, and Aidoneus chatting in the corner. “Some things will always be as they are…”

  Her words puzzled Persephone.

  “Do I have your permission to… to roam a bit? To visit my kin?”

  “Of course you do! I don’t expect you to be constantly by my side the entire time you’re here. Truthfully, I don’t need a servant, despite what Mother thinks.”

  “Thank you.” Minthe nodded to her with a smile and walked away into the crowd. Persephone lost sight of her among the dancing Lampades. Her eyes met her husband’s and she smiled at him longingly.

  ***