“Sarcastic yet frightening blonde girl!” Persephone shouted at Alice. “Those men took things that don’t belong to them. Want to help me retrieve them? There could be bloodshed.”
Wiping her sweaty forehead with the back of her soot-covered arm, Alice gave a sweeping evaluation of the smoldering cottage. “I’ve done about as much good here as I’m going to, and… you had me at bloodshed.”
As Alice jogged over, Persephone used her influence to saddle the mule then plucked a hand-carved bow and fully stocked quiver out of thin air. “Need a weapon, mortal?” she asked while Alice heaved herself into the saddle. “Mace? Sword? Really big stick?”
“Just get me close to them.” Gathering the reins in her grip, Alice’s jaw jutted out with steely determination.
Dipping her head in a nod of appreciation, Persephone cued her horse with a nudge of her heels. “I don’t hate you as much as I do other humans.”
“Enough of the sweet talk. Let’s go unleash a brutal form of justice.” Alice didn’t wait for an answer, but gave the mule a kick that launched him into a begrudging canter.
Wind lashing at their cheeks, they galloped off after Sir Guy and his men.
The fire all but out, Sterling tossed his horse blanket to the ground and stomped out any areas still smoldering with his boot. All the while his gaze stayed locked on Persephone, watching her golden hair fade into the distance.
“They knew we needed you here.” Helping to extinguish the blanket, Marion’s arm brushed Sterling’s.
“No,” Sterling corrected, sadness slicing divots of emptiness between each word, “she’s a specimen of divine grace and unimaginable power. She has no use for me at all.”
Racing between the pine trees, Persephone and Alice closed the distance between them and their enemies.
Leaning in her saddle, Persephone glanced back to shout to Alice, “There are rock formations up ahead that line both sides of the valley. You take the north wall. I’ll take the south. We’ll wait here for our sticky-fingered friends to arrive.”
“And when they do?” Alice had to maintain a constant level of coaxing and prodding to keep her mule moving at anything more than a mosey.
“We unleash all holy hell, of course.” Cueing her horse to the left, Persephone leaned in to climb up the cliff.
The shortcut bought them time, allowing them to stay hidden in the thick foliage of the forest while the king’s men trotted directly into their trap.
Sir Guy thought he was clever with a bow. He had no idea of Persephone’s past. Growing up in Summerland, the land and all of its animal inhabitants were part of a beautiful cycle of mutual nourishment. Because of this balance of give and take, Persephone taught herself never to miss when she let her arrow fly. Strike true, or not at all. That’s exactly what she intended to do.
Drawing her bow, she pulled back the string and held it tight to her shoulder.
Lips pursed, she exhaled a calming breath.
When she heard his voice, she made a slight adjustment to her grip.
Squeezing her eyes shut, she silently counted to five and opened them.
There he was, bragging about how handsomely they would be rewarded for all the spoils they gathered for the sheriff. That confident sneer twisting his lips.
Filling her lungs, she let her arrow fly. The first skimmed his cheek, shaving off a few whiskers before piercing the neckline of his cape and spinning him from his saddle. As he slammed to the earth, Persephone didn’t hesitate. The second arrow that zinged from her bow embedded between the fingers of Sir Guy’s chain mail glove. Pinned where he knelt, he tugged against it in a frantic attempt to free himself.
Finding the being beneath her, the extent of her plans for retribution ended there. She cared not of what he took from the mortals, but wanted only to see him sprawled in the dirt.
Alice had other ideas.
Leaping off the rock wall, an enraged battle cry tore from her lungs. What followed could only be described as a melee of shocking brutality. The petite blonde ripped men off the backs of their horses, breaking bones and delivering potent punches that knocked the air from their lungs.
After half a dozen were subdued, the others dropped their weapons and raised their hands in surrender. “Mercy! Mercy! Take what you want, just spare our lives!”
Confused by this rather weak display from the sheriff’s men, Alice glanced Persephone’s way wearing a frown of disappointment.
Take what they want?
They wanted to emasculate the band of brutes.
That, they accomplished with flair.
So… what more did they dare desire?
Casting a confused shrug in Alice’s direction, Persephone opted for the first thing that popped to mind. “The silver. Those shiny little circles seem to be of great importance to you mortals.” Noticing how the men bristled, the queen beamed with wicked delight that she had correctly guessed their weakness. “That’s right. I want all of those in your possession.”
When no one moved to offer anything up, Alice grabbed the arm of the soldier whimpering at her feet and twisted it behind his back until he yelped. “I have some! Please, let me go and I’ll gladly hand it over!”
“You’re a disgrace!” Sir Guy shouted, his face morphing from red to purple in his fight to free his hand. “There is honor in death, not cowardice! Give them nothing!”
The sniveling soldier had been reaching for a leather coin purse at his hip. Sir Guy’s belittling gave him pause. Hand hovering over the treasure in question, he glanced to Alice in a silent plea for understanding.
Crouching down, Alice mock whispered a tip for all to hear, “When obeying a command, it’s wise to side with the person who has the high ground.” She further demonstrated the point by yanking his shoulder out of socket with a sickening thunk.
He passed out from the pain, and she snagged the purse from his belt.
Tossing it into the air, she caught it with the opposite hand. “Who else needs convincing?”
Every soldier, lest Sir Guy and the one now napping, seized their offerings and brandished them high over their heads.
Gracing them all with a sweet smile, Alice dipped into a curtsey of thanks before skipping around the clearing to collect the purses.
“You won’t get away with this,” Sir Guy spat, his face contorted by hate. “I’ll take back every coin with interest. You’ve announced yourselves as criminals to the crown. I’ll burn the entire forest to the ground if that’s what it takes to see your heads on spikes!”
Movement at the edge of the path demanded Persephone’s attention. There she saw long-suffering taxpayers venturing from their homes to investigate the ruckus. A murmur of hope rippled through the growing crowd when they saw their coin purses in the hands of an angelic-looking blonde.
“Alice, give the people back what belongs to them.” Persephone knelt down beside Sir Guy to enjoy his smoldering rage whilst Alice tossed the coins back to those who truly needed them. “You’re right about one thing. A fire has been ignited today. The residents here have seen your weaknesses. They know you and your men can be brought down. Mark my words, a rebellion has been born today, and its spark will burn hotter than any flame.”
“Heads up,” Alice called before tossing Robin’s satchel of coins to Persephone.
Rising to her feet, the goddess caught it and weighed it in her palm. “When the stories of this spread—and they will—feel free to omit the part where a towheaded little girl brought your army to its knees. If it helps your fragile pride, feel free to make her a mammoth man with a masculine name… like John.”
As Persephone started her trek back to Robin’s cottage, Sir Guy’s tirade stabbed after her. “This won’t stand! I’ll— Ow!” One rock hit him. Then another. The throng of onlookers grabbed whatever they could, and whipped it at any of those wearing the king’s colors. “Stop it, you peasants! The king will hear of this! Oof! Enough!”
“I think we’ll take our chances.” Persephone
winked to Alice as the two went in search of the horses they traveled in on.
Chapter Eight
After securing her horse back in the pasture, Persephone rounded the corner of the scorched cottage and tossed the purse of coins back to its rightful owner. “I believe these belong to you.”
“You took back the silver?” The second the purse landed in his palm, Robin dropped it as if it burned hotter than any flaming arrow ever could. “Are you mad? They’ll come for us! Marion, gather what’s left of our belongings, we need to get far away from here as fast as we’re able.”
“You’re afraid of those men?” Trailing Persephone, Alice’s pert nose crinkled at that ludicrous concept.
Gathering their essentials and shoving them into a knapsack, Marion paused to shoot a glare Alice’s way. “The men who torched our home? Yes, we would have preferred to stay on their good side, if it was all the same to you.”
Sucking air through her teeth, Persephone cringed. “It’s a bit late for that. Even so, I don’t think they’re quite as menacing as you believe. We just left them huddled in the forest, covered in their own urine.”
Muscles straining, Robin grabbed the hitch of their wagon and dragged it around front for Marion to load. “They work for the Sheriff of Nottingham. You have no idea the levels of treachery he’s capable of. Under the king’s command my hairy arse.”
“I’m becoming increasingly bored with the matters of mortals.” Persephone’s head fell back in exasperation. “Let me make this matter painfully simple for you.” Head lolling toward the humans, she shrugged off her bow and quiver. “These were forged by a divine essence. Shoot this weapon, and you’ll never miss. Try it out for yourself.”
Robin hesitantly accepted her offering, his brow knit tight with confusion. “How would I test such a claim?”
“Must I think of everything?” Persephone groaned. “Close your eyes and shoot. Give that a go.”
Robin shot Marion a glance that strongly implicated he believed these newcomers to be mad. Still, he loaded the bow, pointed the arrow skyward, squeezed his eyes shut… and fired.
The arrow zigged and zagged. Veered and rolled. Then, sank into the flank of a turkey who happened to be wandering past.
An excited squeal escaped Marion, her hands clamping over her mouth. “Robin! You hit it dead on! Do you know what this could mean for us? For all the people of Sherwood Forest?”
While they jumped into each other’s arms in celebration, Alice went to claim the turkey that would now be dinner.
Having fallen into an uncharacteristic hush, Sterling edged up beside the Queen of the Dead. “The arrow of a noble man,” he stated, jerking his chin toward the stocked quiver.
“He killed a turkey. That’s not noble. It’s foraging.” Taking a seat beside the firepit, Persephone rolled her fingers once, then again, until she managed a spark of magic that ignited a warming blaze.
Plopping down beside her, he bumped her shoulder with his. “Not him. You.”
“That would be a noble woman,” she corrected, scooting farther away from him. “Elsewise suggests me being in possession of a particular appendage I’m fortunate enough not to be burdened with.”
“In this sense, I believe it to have no gender. The arrows were yours, and you committed selfless deeds for the benefit of others.”
For a moment, Persephone’s forced bravado cracked to reveal the pained young lass beneath. “I helped no one but myself. I wanted revenge and I sought it out. Give me no credit beyond that.”
“Maybe those were your motivations.” Plucking a dandelion from the grass behind him, Sterling twirled it between his fingers. “But you brought back their silver and gave them a way to protect themselves and others like them. That act can be described as nothing but noble. Which means, if we pluck one arrow from that quiver, we can move on to the next stop in our journey.”
As much as she longed to move on, Persephone couldn’t ignore a nagging feeling in her gut that she needed to wait out the night with the mortals. To protect them if need be if the soldiers she angered dared to come back. “You look dreadfully tired,” she lied. “If you tried a jump now I’m certain I’d end up with my own arm protruding from my forehead. We’ll rest here tonight and venture out at first light.”
“As you wish, Your Highness.” Sterling bowed his head to hide a knowing grin.
Sterling waited for the camp to grow quiet. Staring up at the stars, he tried his best not to fidget. The inside of the cottage still reeking of smoke, Robin and Marion joined the misplaced trio to camp alongside the firepit. Exhausted from the trials of the day, it didn’t take long for a sleepy silence to fall over their ragtag group.
Only then did Sterling reach into the leather purse tied to his belt and close his fist around his treasured mirror fragment. Rubbing his thumb over its cool surface, he rolled to his side and pushed to his feet as quiet as he could. Leaves crunched under his boots, prompting him to freeze out of fear the noise would wake the others. When none amongst them roused, he tiptoed around a fallen tree to the thatch of brush beyond it. Pulling out the mirror, he stared into its face and exhaled an anxious breath through pursed lips. “Alastor?”
To his great relief, that disembodied face shimmered into view. “You ventured there and claimed the bow. Soon it will be time to go. To free us, you must press on; before all is lost and hope is gone.”
Expression creased with concern, Sterling’s head tilted. “Alastor, are you okay? You don’t look well, my friend. And not just because you don’t have a body… or the back half of your head.”
“I fear it could be too late for my love. She may never make it to the world above. Great atrocities have been inflicted upon her beneath the sea. Now, to protect her heart, she won’t even look at me. I can’t fathom how to push on, when all I have fought and sacrificed for… is gone.”
Pep talks weren’t really Sterling’s strong-suit, primarily because every other word out of his mouth was utter gibberish. Still, for the sake of his only friend, he would try. “You see all, and in that you believe this plan will work. Mustn’t lose faith in that now. Plus, the little redheaded prophet showed me a map of sorts, and it perfectly matched what you foretold! Well, not perfectly. Her version seemed more tailored specifically for me, but I wager that’s only because she writes my life and knows how to get into my head, you know?”
Alastor blinked his way. Once. And again. “Not in the slightest.”
“Few ever do,” Sterling muttered under his breath. Rising up on the balls of his feet, he peeked over the top of a ragweed plant to where the Queen of the Underworld lay on her side with one arm curled under her head. “My point, if I ever really had one, was not to give up. Within this mysterious queen, I’ve seen signs of progress. Hades broke her heart, and she ripped his heart from his chest and slapped him around with it. We know that. But today, she ventured outside of her own agenda to help others. I think there may be more to her than meets the eye.”
Alastor’s features iced over with a frosty chill. “Into the abyss the lady screams, demanding answers to soothe the pain that teems. Yet there is mercy to be found in silence, kinder than cutting words of indifference. To be the queen on which we can rest our hopes, she must break free of the suffering wife tropes. Salvation rests on her discovering self-worth, lest we be wiped from the face of the Earth.”
Sterling’s lips parted with a pop. “You stole my rhyming, which I find quite endearing. But the meaning behind your limericks seems to be disappearing.”
Alastor stared past Sterling, to the queen pretending to be asleep whilst listening in on every word. “The message was not for you, my friend. Yet all will be made clear in the end. Be the kind and kooky soul you always have been, and you’ll remind the goddess of who she was… and can be again.”
Chapter Nine
“Slave! I call on thee!” Hades bellowed to Alastor, only for his command to morph into a coughing fit he hid behind his hand.
More than anythi
ng, Alastor longed to ignore him. To, instead, gaze back into Vanessa’s world in hopes something had changed with her. But, to his great regret, he couldn’t refuse the call of his master. “You beckoned, my lord?”
Hands on his knees, the God of Death gasped and gulped until he claimed enough air to finish his tirade. “My beloved Cerberus has yet to return from their quest to claim Amphrite. Tell me, what do you see? Where are they?”
Alastor closed his eyes, as if searching through his vault of knowledge. Not that he had to. He watched the entire debacle go down in real time. Even so, he found a loophole in his servitude to Hades: he only had to answer direct questions. Which allowed his friends the gift of time… for now.
Lids snapping open, Alastor stared through the wall of his glass prison to the man who put him there. “Both have been taken from this life. Snuffed out by none other than… your wife.”
Forcing himself upright, Hades’ chest rose and fell with furious heaves, his nostrils flaring. “Where. Is. She?”
All Alastor could do now was hope he had bought them enough time. “Persephone journeys to a world where a carving is more than a toy; a realm where there’s a soul inside longing to be a real boy.”
Persephone gaped in horror at the frilly, powder-blue gown that materialized on her the second they made the jump to the next realm. “What the fresh hell is this?”
The instant the words left the goddess’s lips, Sterling lunged for her and slapped a hand over her mouth. “Shhh! I’ve been to this realm before. You must speak and act only with kindness. Sins manifest here in a horrible way.”
Face crumbling into a sneer, Persephone slapped his hands away. “Need I remind you, I am a divine being? Such things don’t apply to me. Not to mention that concept is ludicrous. Sin is a matter of perspective. How could such a thing manifest into any kind of tangible form?”
The Unfortunate Souls Collection Page 45
