“Your majesty.” She curtsied low.
Aidoneus turned to acknowledge her. “Minthe, is it? You needn’t be so formal. Have you met Thanatos and Hypnos?”
The naiad gulped, glancing from Death to Sleep. “Milords.”
Aidon would have hesitated to introduce any woman to Thanatos, but since he’d been freed from Sisyphus, he’d heard no complaints from Hecate, no tales of conquest from the world above. When Aidoneus discreetly mentioned it to him, Thanatos simply stated that he wouldn’t let anyone else endure Voleta’s fate… that his days of chasing women were over. He’d scarcely touched the food and drink. It was an aftereffect of all that he’d suffered, Aidon reasoned, a season he would pass through eventually. In the meantime, The Lord of the Underworld was enjoying the peace that it brought to his court.
“I-If you will pardon me, my king,” she started nervously, “may I have a moment alone to speak with you?”
Thanatos folded his arms. “What about?”
“A…” She gulped in air and fidgeted. “A private request from the Queen.”
Aidon waved off the twins and smiled at Minthe. “If it is a ‘request’ from my wife, then I don’t see why not.”
Minthe looked up into his eyes, made warm by mirth and nectar. His features weren’t displeasing. He towered over her and his shoulders were broad. His fingers were long and manicured but looked rough from aeons of swordplay. His hair was swept back from his face by his crown, but fell loosely in tight waves about his shoulders, curling at the ends. He smelled of warm earth and cool cypress.
She contemplated what it would mean to be the mistress of a powerful king, sharing his chariot, his palace, his bed… Warmth and desire trickled through her. She felt a sharp ache between her thighs at the thought of him pinning her down, prying them apart. Minthe looked at the glint of golden poplar on his crown and shook the idea from her thoughts. She should be revolted by this. This was duty, not desire. If she dwelled on it, on him, it would destroy her, just as it had destroyed—
“What was it you wanted to tell me?”
“I…” Minthe blushed and collected her thoughts, then motioned Aidoneus so she could whisper in his ear. He obliged and dipped down, amused that the girl would be so nervous delivering a simple message. “She asks that you leave the hall quietly.”
“Why?” He said softly.
“Sh-she wants to speak with you in private, she said. In your chambers.” Minthe cleared her throat and whispered, her breath hot against his ear. “Without any clothes.”
Aidon’s eyes briefly widened before he schooled his reaction. He stood up and swallowed the lump in his throat. A smile teased the corner of his mouth and his voice purred when he responded. “Tell your mistress I will do as she bids.”
Minthe shuddered and gave him a nod. She backed away slowly, then skipped away to leave him standing alone. Aidoneus glanced toward his wife, who was laughing in conversation with Hermes and Hephaestus. She caught his gaze and smiled at him mischievously, knowingly. Nectar swam through Aidon’s head, mingling with desire. Three months ago they’d only had a matter of hours to enjoy each other; it had scarcely been enough to sustain him. He’d spent so much time carefully planning her return. Though enjoyable, the welcoming celebration had quickly dissolved into tedium, beginning the moment he caught a glimpse of her on the waters of the Styx, Charon dutifully rowing her closer, and closer, and closer… At last their long, celibate drought would be ended and she would be in his arms again. He knew she could feel his eyes on her from across the room. Persephone nibbled on her lower lip in a way that made his fingers twitch at his sides, and another part of him twitch beneath his robes.
“Aidon?” Thanatos interrupted his lustful reverie.
“Beg pardon…” He muttered awkwardly, his voice rough before he cleared his throat. “Friends, if you will excuse me…”
“Of course,” Hypnos said with a smirk. Aidon nodded stiffly to them and slinked off toward the break in the tapestries that lead to the royal chambers.
“I don’t like it,” Thanatos said quietly, his arms still folded.
“Don’t like what? I’m surprised those two made it this long without sneaking off somewhere for a quick—”
“Not that, you dolt. The nectar’s affecting you even more than it’s affecting him,” Thanatos scowled. “They share a bond. Why in Tartarus would Persephone send some servant girl to say something that could be said where no one else can hear?”
Hypnos mulled over his brother’s words, then snorted and shook his head. “You’re paranoid and melancholy. And it’s getting tiring, brother. Why don’t you go find yourself a willing nymph and—”
“He didn’t even stop to consider that. He’s as cock-led as you are…”
“Oh, please. I never in a thousand aeons thought that I would hear you judging anyone for that,” Hypnos said, punctuating each word with a poke at his brother’s chest.
“You’re intoxicated. And if I’m wrong, why is she still talking to him?”
Hypnos glanced at Persephone, who laughed when Hermes pointed up at the ceiling and gesticulated wildly. “I don’t know. Politeness? …Or maybe she’s frustrating Aidon a little so that he won’t be able to help himself once she gets there? After all, absence makes the heart grow—”
Thanatos pushed him aside and stalked off in search of Hecate.
***
The antechamber smelled faintly of fresh herbs and living things. Aidoneus closed the door behind him. With a quick brush of his fingers he lit the torches, their flames smoldering orange, barely illuminating the room. He thought about Alekto teasing them earlier. Gods forbid if she or her sisters were flying around outside. He didn’t want to turn his private reunion with his wife into a spectacle.
“Persephone?”
His voice echoed off the domed ceiling and his stomach pitched with anticipation. Was she already here and hidden? Was she on her way? He grinned. Without clothes, the little nymph had whispered. She could be here now, watching him.
His heart leapt and danced as he imagined laying her atop the myrtle and asphodel blooms he’d scattered across their sheets this morning, her hair fanned out on the pillows behind her. Aidon unwound his himation from his shoulder and draped it over the divan. He pulled his crown off his head and set it on the table next to the two cups of pomegranate nectar he’d poured earlier. Beside them sat morsels of food from the feast. He’d prepared it for her himself, eager for her to sample everything Chthonia had received in sacrifice because of her. Aidon wanted to make sure that once they entered this room, there would be little reason to leave it. For days, perhaps.
He unclasped the fibulae holding up his tunic and fumbled with the belt, dropping the rest of his clothing on the divan before unlacing his sandals and pushing them underneath the seat. Aidon ached. His breathing was shallow and his pulse drowned out the rushing water outside. He shivered and faced the doorway she would open any minute. He glanced down; his organ throbbed and pointed straight at it. Aidon swallowed the lump in his throat and shifted from one foot to the other, waiting for her to make her appearance. When he’d gone above, he had mentioned studying the hieros gamos. What if Persephone expected a soul-melding, ecstatic performance from him tonight, akin to the night they’d shared the Key? What if, in his zeal, he took her too fast? What if he was careless and hurt her?
Aidon snorted a laugh. Of all the preposterous things in this cosmos, he thought: him— nervous about being with her! He began pacing the room again, shaking his head. Only once had he ever been anxious with her— the first time they made love in her bed. Aidoneus had wanted it to be perfect, just as he had strived to make her homecoming perfect. Persephone had denied that anything was troubling her, but Aidon could sense her anxiety as though it were his own. He had felt it surge through her when he’d announced their impending wedding ceremony.
His stomach dropped and he froze. He recalled their night in the Plutonion— those last words she’d spoken to him, an
d his silence that followed. Was that why she had told Minthe to summon him here instead of reaching out herself? Aidon combed his fingers over his scalp. He had to relax.
He stared at the prepared food and drink, the dim torchlight smoldering red in the cup’s reflection. His mind was already swimming with too much nectar, but a bit more might calm his nerves. Aidon snatched up a cup and gulped down half its contents.
The orange lights in the room left trails across his vision. He rubbed his eyelids and shook his head. The trails remained, then thickened and grew brighter. His fingers felt numb. Aidoneus tried to draw in a breath, but his chest constricted. Sweat broke out on his forehead. He stumbled backward. Distantly, he heard the clay cup shatter as it hit marble, the remaining nectar and pomegranate splashing across the floor. The trails of light blazed. His stomach clenched, and the spilled dark nectar on the floor started creeping toward him— following him. The slain demons of Echidna, his faithful guard dog’s monstrous brothers and sisters, flashed through his memory. Their blood lurched across the floor. Murderer… murderer… The wet snap when Kampe’s neck broke. The screams of the Golden Men… Iapetos’s son, Menoetius, falling into the nothingness below Tartarus, falling forever. The Titan’s cry became his own. He clapped his hands over his ears, but still the screams echoed. The blood chased after him, spreading across the map of his kingdom, rivers of blood he’d shed during the war. He heard weeping.
No… no…
Next to the golden poplar tree engraved on the chamber doors, he saw a pale nymph crouched, heavy with child, her face contorted and streaked with tears. Her fingers reached in his direction, his name a plea for mercy on her lips…
No, Fates, please…
He retreated toward the bedroom, the light streaking toward him. Destroyer… murderer… His weight slammed against the door as he stumbled into his bedroom. His knees started to give out and the muscles in his legs seized. His fingers twitched. The roaring fire was all consuming, raging like a great furnace, filling the room. He lost his balance and his back met the wall. The creatures inside the amber twisted and screamed all around him, their pincers and teeth cracking against their translucent cages, shattering their prisons. They leapt to the floor and skittered toward him. Aidon cried out and shambled to the bed, threw himself on it, and closed his eyes.
This isn’t real… this isn’t real… Persephone! Persephone, please… where are you?
He burned and froze. His limbs wouldn’t respond to his will. They twitched, splayed out, his heart racing, his stomach roiling as though the scorpions and centipedes from the walls were tearing him apart from the inside.
“Hades…” The voice was velvety and female.
This wasn’t real. The nectar had been poisoned. He had to fight it.
“Why so afraid, Hades?”
With all his strength he tilted his head up. “S-sweet one? Persephone, d-don’t drink…”
“The nectar?” A pale woman with flaxen hair came into view, slim-figured and naked but for a crown of golden poplar. His crown. Her form wavered in the firelight. “Ergot is a curious thing. Mortals see the most monstrous visions before they die of it.”
Her voice… he knew that voice. He knew that pale figure and those poplar leaves… Please, Fates, don’t let it be her. Of all the memories sent to torment him…
Help me…
“Your minister, Thanatos, is rumored to take kykeon laced with ergot on occasion… just enough to give him visions, but never with nectar. That affects a god the same as it affects a mortal, no? And though you feel like you’re dying, though perhaps you’d welcome that release, Hades, you simply won’t get it, will you?”
He sputtered trying to form words. “You’re n-not real.”
“Oh, I am. Or perhaps it’s a memory you see?” She giggled, sauntering closer. “Mortals react to ergot by doing the most peculiar things— accusing the old women in their villages of witchcraft and stoning them.” She lowered her voice. “They are often struck mad— haunted by old memories.”
“You’re not her…”
The naiad’s face was blurred, her features twisted by his memories of another. “Tell me. When you see me, what haunts you, Hades?”
***
Persephone…
She felt cold. Aidoneus was panicked and confused— she felt as though his alarm were her own. She looked around the room for her husband, trying to find the source of his voice.
Persephone, please… where are you?
“Aidon?”
Her eyes widened and Hermes stopped his story. “Didn’t Hades leave a while ago?”
“I thought he was talking with Thanatos and Hypnos…” She turned and saw Thanatos looming toward her, Hecate by his side, trying to keep up with his long gait.
Help me…
“You know,” Hermes said, “I’ve never seen him so happy. It’s almost stra—”
Thanatos shoved Hermes aside, his eyes wild. “Go to him. Now.”
“Where is he?! Where is my husband?” Persephone’s skin felt clammy, prickling with fear.
Hecate closed her eyes. “Upstairs. Hurry, my queen.”
The ether flashed and her helm appeared in her hand. She put it on and disappeared from the view of the immortals before bounding up the stairs.
I’m sorry… please… I’m trying to stop… but she…
She? Persephone’s heart raced. What was he talking about? My love, what is wrong?
No answer. Persephone pounded up the stairs, faster and faster, too distraught and distracted, desperately willing herself to bridge the space between them as she ran. She failed.
Please tell me! What has happened to you?
His lone word made her whole body flare with rage.
Minthe.
***
The naiad’s hips swayed from side to side, her blonde hair cascading over her shoulders and breasts. Aidon convulsed, illusion and delirium transported his tortured mind to the days after his arrival in the world below. He recalled the beautiful nymph who tended the poplar tree in front of the palace, the poplar crowns she fashioned for him from its leaves, the friendly words exchanged, the loneliness she’d admitted to him. His visions darkened, showing how their acquaintance had soured, how she had wanted him as a lover instead of a friend.
“You are not Leuce,” he managed, speaking around his thick tongue. “She died long ago in the world above.”
“But before she was banished, by you, Leuce told you she loved you.” Minthe climbed on the bed, astride one of his twitching legs. “She told me how she offered herself to you. Leuce was no idiot. She knew it wouldn’t last, that you were destined for another. But instead of letting her go gently…”
Aidon remembered that distant morning. He remembered how temptation had almost won over him, how he had nearly broken his vow and given in to her. How Leuce had crawled into his bed, naked and warm, had caressed him to wakefulness, how he had angrily shoved her away. The words she had spoken were etched in his memory. Aidon I know what I am, she said, I know who you are. But for just this brief time, please… My king, my sweet lord, let me care for you… ease your troubled mind… take me please… I offer you my innocence… He had bellowed for Leuce to leave his room at once. Hades had told Hecate to send Leuce away, even before her training as an acolyte was complete, to lie with a river god in the world above. He refused to speak with her or any of the other Underworld nymphs after she left. Hades saw Leuce only once after that, months later. She was pregnant, bawling, waiting at the shore for Charon to row her away from her home, never to return. Of all the sins he’d ever committed…
“…you had her raped by another.” Minthe’s face came into focus above him. Her scent, sweet and sharp, made him gag. “Your coldness created me, Hades, and I watched my mother die slowly of a broken heart, cast off and exiled by the man to whom she’d confessed her love.”
“Minthe.” Aidoneus swallowed. “Y-you— Leuce was…”
“My mother.”
; “I never… Minthe, I didn’t— I’m not…”
“I know you didn’t sire me. My mother was abandoned, rejected, then taken in a ritual she did not want by a man she did not want. When I was born, Kokytos refused to acknowledge that he’d sired me. And when I sought his help in winter, he threw me out to his court to be used day after day like whore. Thank the gods that the Corn Mother saved my mother, and when she died, Demeter was able to bind Leuce’s spirit to the poplars of Thesprotia to keep her soul from returning to this wasteland.”
“I didn’t know…”
“Coward. It was so easy to send her off, wasn’t it? An inconvenience to be discarded. And now you have your spoils of war, your plaything… the daughter of the goddess who was our salvation, the innocent girl you ruined to keep beside you.”
“I didn’t…”
“Liar. Everyone knows! Everyone knows what you did to her. And her mother knows and I know that you aren’t capable of love. You destroy, despoil, break, and ruin. You are incapable of compassion or regret. It is simply your nature,” she said, inching up his body to straddle his hips.
“Not with her… not w-with Persephone…” Through the cacophony of pain and illusion, the Harvest Goddess’s plans, executed by this simple pawn, came into sharp relief.
“Defiler. Do you, does anybody honestly believe that you can change like the flip of an obol, as though aeons of being the cold unforgiving ruler of Tartarus could be erased in an instant? I will save her from you. I will break her heart to save her from you.”
“Why would-d you do this to her?”
“Because finally, my mother’s spirit will be able to rest. In Leuce’s name you will reap what you’ve sown.”
Aidoneus saw the fire blazing around them, rippling with scalding heat. Minthe pulled her prize from behind her back. Its shaft glinted gold, and she aimed it straight at his heart. He tried to sink into the mattress, tried to put distance between the golden point and its target. If it pierced him…
He mustered all his will, trying in vain to keep the golden arrow’s proximity from affecting him. Fire flooded his loins. She felt him stir underneath her. She grasped his flesh stroking him with delicate fingers. He quaked, her touch the only relief from the poison coursing through his veins. He let out a soft moan, his senses overwhelmed by the mix of ergot, the arrow, her touch… Aidoneus narrowed his eyes, shutting out the visions, the pain and pleasure. He wouldn’t give in so easily. “Persephone… s-she will know. If you do this, she’ll know how it w-was done.”
Destroyer of Light Page 39
