by Cerys du Lys
His voice filled with pride. “Your new home.”
Chapter Two
Persephone didn’t know if it was his words or the fact the earth around them seemed to turn to a dull, silvery liquid that made her stomach flip, but she turned her face again to hide her dismay and stayed there until she felt the chariot come to a halt.
“Where are we?” She looked up at him, afraid to turn and see.
“I thought you would feel at home here.” Aidon rubbed a piece of her hair between his fingers, lifted it to his lips, closed his eyes and inhaled. The gesture both intrigued and scared her. She turned in his arms and gasped at the sight before her.
“Elysium,” she breathed, her hands clutching the chariot in surprise.
“Yes.” His voice rumbled through his chest and vibrated down her spine.
Persephone sprang out of the chariot and he didn’t stop her when she wandered out into the tall grass. Looking up, she saw no sun, yet it was bright as day. Her delicate hands played along the tops of pussy willows and reached for the sunflowers. She paused, breathing in the scent of wildflowers. The gentle edges of wheat grass blended with the golden groundsel and royal violets, and the field stretched that way as far as she could see. An enormous cottonwood tree stood in the middle of the field and, as she watched the leaves move in the cool breeze, a young couple sprang up from beneath it, chasing each other around the trunk.
“Aidon!” She took a step back, and felt him behind her. “Who are they?”
“They are of the chosen. The joyful.”
Persephone watched, transfixed, as the man caught the woman and they tumbled, laughing, back to the ground. “They have no clothes?”
“We have very little use for garments here.” He smiled at her surprised expression.
Persephone looked back toward the tree and saw the couple kissing, their bodies pressed together and their limbs entwined. She felt a slow heat rising in her belly as she watched. “What are they doing?”
“Something similar to what you and your friends were doing above.” Aidon’s hands moved over her gown, baring her shoulders.
Persephone gaped, unable to look away as the man turned the woman and pressed her against the tree, entering her from behind. She had heard of such things, of course. Still, she had never seen anyone do what these two did with such passion and intensity. Her breath came faster, her tongue sneaking out to wet her dry lips.
“Open your eyes.” Aidon turned her head in another direction. “They are everywhere.”
Persephone saw another couple in the grass, the woman on her hands and knees, the man behind her forcing himself into her flesh. A woman cried out, and Persephone turned her head the other way, seeing a man sitting up in the tall grass and thrusting, his eyes closed, his mouth open. How had she not seen them before? The sounds of lust, soft sighs and moans, exhaled all around her.
“Is it what you expected?” His eyes searched her face.
“No.” She shook her head before turning to watch the couple by the tree again. The woman had wrapped her arms around the trunk and was moaning.
He nodded. “The rest will be wholly unfamiliar to you.”
Those words made Persephone’s heart sink. He led her back to the chariot where the horses grazed, their noses finding the sweetest grass.
“Are you taking me back home to my mother?” She looked up at him with pleading eyes.
He frowned. “No.” Grabbing the horses’ reins, he pressed her into the chariot with his bulk. Then they hastened again, faster than she could have imagined, around the field on a gravel road that jarred her teeth and made her head buzz.
The light grew dim as they traveled, as if the sun were setting. Yet there was no sun, no telltale rosy glow along the horizon. This was more of a darkening, as if one mourning veil after another was being thrown over the world. Persephone steadied herself when the chariot slowed again and stopped. Aidon gripped her shoulders and spun her about to face him. His eyes darkened as he leaned in to kiss her.
It was a brief assault, his tongue forcing its way between her lips. Persephone struggled against him, her pounding fists useless against his chest, her cries unheard against the crushing weight of his mouth. When he stopped and looked at her, he was breathing hard, his hands clamped around her upper arms. She winced, tasting blood as she licked her lips. His gaze roamed over her. His hands followed his eyes, traveling over her arms and across her breasts to the seam of her robe. A smile broke across his face as his finger grasped the edge of the cloth and began to peel it from her form.
“No!” Persephone peered around, seeing just the stretch of endless, graying fields. She could hear a faint hum, like the buzzing of dark bees, but that was all.
“Sephie, I must.” His grip loosened as he slid her shift down her shoulders. “You would blind them in this.”
“Blind who?” She clutched at her gown, but it was no use. As easily as it went on, it slipped off, and she stood before him wearing nothing.
“The shades.” His gaze caressed her breasts, her belly, lingering at the apex of her thighs. She covered herself with her hands and he smiled, but there was no humor in it.
“Aidon,” she pleaded. “I must have something to cover me.”
“Perhaps...” His finger traced the line of her hip, the indentation of her waist. “You may blind them as you are, beauty. You glow like no other.”
“Please!” she implored, her hands gripping his.
He unhooked the mantle of his own chiton, shrugging his shoulders and sliding it off. Persephone stared. His skin was a deep bronze, his chest thickly muscled, his stomach ridged. He covered her, and she pulled the cloth around her, watching it pool at her feet in waves.
“Better?” he asked.
She nodded, averting her eyes from the small dark loincloth that couldn’t hide his arousal. The sight of it made her queasy, her stomach doing little flips.
“We’re almost home.”
She guessed his smile was probably meant to be reassuring, but it sent a cold stab of fear into her heart. This strange place was not her home. She already longed for the sun, for the feel of rain against her cheeks. Aidon drove the chariot onward and Persephone craned to see her virginal white gown pooled in the darkening field. She was certain she would never see it again.
Aidon lashed the reins and the horses galloped faster, and faster still. Persephone clung to his arm as they neared the edge of the field. It looked as if the land dropped away. She could see nothing but darkness beyond.
“Stop!” she screamed. But he didn’t, and they sailed off the edge into nothing.
When she dared to open her eyes again, it was gloomy as night. No stars or moon lit the way. The walls of the cavern ahead glowed deep red, like hot coals, illuminating a winding black river.
She felt Aidon’s arm at her back, guiding her off the chariot. Stumbling over the hem of his garment, Persephone lifted armloads of the fabric so she could walk. A hand gripped her arm and she gasped, whirling to face a woman cradling a baby in her arms. The woman begged for something, her voice pleading, but Persephone couldn’t catch the words.
Persephone frowned up at Aidon. “I don’t understand.”
“It’s the language of the dead.” He removed the woman’s hand from Persephone and the woman withdrew, sinking to her knees and wailing, rocking her baby back and forth. “She is asking you for coin to pay the boatman. There.” He nodded to the boat coming toward them across the river.
“Can’t you let them go? Aren’t you ruler here?” Persephone shrank against Aidon’s side as more and more people moved toward them from out of the darkness, holding out their hands and speaking in strange, muted tones.
“I have power in the Underworld, but I am not the only one.” Aidon held his hand up against the onslaught. The bodies stopped, jostling amongst themselves, their restless limbs jerking. “No shade crosses Styx without paying.”
Persephone allowed him to help her into the boat as shades crowded in
around them. A hooded, shadowy figure silently held forth a skeletal palm to each of them as they boarded.
“Your chariot?” She watched as the horses began trotting along beside the river.
“They will go home,” Aidon assured her. “I wanted to bring you in this way, so you could see.”
“See?” Persephone held tightly to the side of the boat as they began to move. It rocked gently as the hooded figure moved them along with a staff raking the bottom of the river.
“Sit.” Aidon pulled her to him, tucking her between his strong, powerful thighs. Persephone sat as straight as she could, her breathing shallow, trying to ignore the tickling of his hot breath over her neck.
The trip across the river was short, and the boatman steadied the skiff with his staff as they stepped off. Persephone gathered the extra material of her borrowed garment once again and eyed the craggy surface before stepping onto it. Aidon kept one hand on her arm as they walked around a rocky wall and started down a steep flight of stairs.
A low growl met them at the bottom of the steps, and Persephone backed up against Aidon, clutching at him and finding only the taut skin of his thigh. A trio of massive black dog heads emerged from the shadows below. Their six eyes darted to Persephone, then beyond to Aidon. In unison, the dogs’ lips relaxed to cover the bared teeth. One of the heads issued a welcoming bark as the beast stepped forward to reveal all three of its heads attached to one body.
Persephone inhaled a brief gasp and her hand rushed to cover her mouth. She had heard of Cerberus, the great canine who guarded the gates of Tartarus, but no words could have prepared her for the sight of the monster. Aidon pushed past her, rubbing behind the ears of each head before he turned back to Persephone and extended his hand. “Come.”
With a gulp, she placed her tiny hand within his, but she kept her wide eyes glued to the beast until the shadows had again reclaimed its form. Only then did she turn her eyes forward and get her first glimpse of Hell. The cavern walls weren’t red, but rather black. The only light was a shimmer coming from the glow of two luminescent silver pools flanking a ghostly white cypress tree.
Persephone clutched at Aidon’s elbow. “What is this place?”
“The Chamber of Judgment.”
She pointed to the dozens of forms sliding in and out of one of the pools. “And who are they?”
“They are the shades.” He put his hand over hers. “That is the Pool of Lethe. It erases all memory.”
Persephone pushed her body against his. “But, why?”
Aidon caressed her head, her hair. She watched his face soften, shimmering in the glimmer of the pools. “It is painful for the dead to remember the living.”
“What about that one?”
“The Pool of Mnemosyne—Memory.”
Persephone looked up at him, her brow furrowed. “Why does no one swim there?”
“It is for the Initiates,” he explained. Persephone crossed her arms over her breasts as if cold, even though beads of perspiration had already formed on her forehead. “You will come to understand our ways.”
“What if I don’t want to?” Tears stung her eyes as she looked upward to him.
Aidon frowned, his eyed darkening. “You will.”
She noticed for the first time the ebony throne sitting above the pools, and the three smaller ones off to the left. “And those?”
“Look who’s home!”
They both turned at the sound of a feminine voice. Persephone barely stifled a scream as she beheld the woman and the slender black snakes on her head, where her hair should have been, hissing in deadly chorus. Though Persephone did not cry out, she couldn’t help stepping behind Aidon.
“Ah, Tisi!” He strode to embrace the woman. “Persephone, I’d like you to meet Tisiphone. She is one of the Erinyes—a Fury.”
Persephone extended her hand, a well-mannered gesture, as her eyes took in the form of the nude woman. The Fury stood as tall as Aidon, her skin like dull silver, and her eyes glowed red as she swept them over Persephone.
“My pleasure.” Tisi’s smile showed sharp, white fangs. “So this is your new bride?”
Persephone started, looking between them. “What?”
Tisi covered her smile with a clawed hand. “Oh goodness, I didn’t let the cat out of the bag, did I?”
Aidon glared. “Thanks, Tisi. You can go.”
The Fury turned, and Persephone saw great black wings tucked neatly behind her.
“Bride?” Persephone’s heart fluttered in her chest.
Aidon sighed, covering the small of her back with his palm. “Let’s find you something else to wear.”
“Bride?” she repeated, her mouth barely working, her trembling hand hovering near her throat. She had a sudden flash of memory—her mother’s gentle kiss just this morning and her accompanying admonishment to be careful.
She whirled on him, her face drained of blood. “No! You can’t mean to keep me here!”
Aidon’s mouth opened but no words came out. He just nodded.
“No!” She clawed at his chest, biting at him, snarling.
He wrapped both of her wrists in one of his hands and let her rail until she collapsed against him. “Why did you think I brought you down here?” Her pain drew the attention of the shades, and they stood transfixed, watching them.
Persephone shook her head. Until this moment, she had been seduced by the mystery and strangeness of it all, but the thought of staying here forever sent her reeling. She turned away from him and vomited, retching over and over. Aidon held her racking body until her heaves subsided. When she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and looked up at him, his eyes grew dark, his mouth set in a grim line. “You are mine.”
She turned to face him, her knees shaking every bit as much as her voice. “I belong to no one.”
He smiled. “Oh, but you do.”
Persephone’s eyes narrowed as she shed the burden of the heavy robe. “Memories can be unbearable for the living, too.” With that, she turned and raced across the rocky surface toward the Pool of Lethe.
* * * *
Consciousness returned slowly to Persephone. The bed beneath her was firm but not uncomfortable. Shaking her head to clear the fuzz, she moved to sit and found her wrists shackled above her head. She felt a strain under her arms, in her ribs.
How long have I been like this? She opened her mouth to speak, but her lips felt so dry she could barely part them.
She managed a low moan as a strange, yet familiar face bent over her. It was a dark figure, his cheeks gaunt and pale, his mouth red and smiling. She had dreamed about him. His eyes reflected like large, violet pools, and she found herself transfixed in them. Her breath slowed, her heart’s murmur tamed to an easy, steady beat. He lifted a bottle full of tiny luminous crystals, like glowing sand, and began to open it.
“No, Hypnos.” Aidon’s voice came out of the darkness. “No more. Leave us.”
The figure frowned but stepped back into the shadows and was gone. Persephone strained to see Aidon, noticing her wrists bound but her ankles free. She recalled everything—her abduction, her trip into the Underworld, her desperate run toward the Pool of Lethe to purge herself of her memory. Yet she still remembered…
“Please.” Her voice was a thick croak. “Release me.”
He came out of the darkness to stand beside the huge bed. “How is your head?” His fingers rubbed through her hair and she winced when he caressed a knot there that throbbed dully with her pulse under his touch.
“What happened?”
He frowned. “You fell before you reached the Pool of Lethe. Your memory is intact, although you’ve got quite a bump there. I had Hypnos give you his pain-sleep until you were healed.”
“How long have I been here?”
His fingers trailed down her cheek. “A day…no more.”
“Please, I’m begging you. Take me home to my mother.” She implored him with her eyes, but he didn’t see her pleading orbs as his gaze swept
over her body, uncovered against the black velvet bedclothes.
“Do you know what you look like, lying here?” His finger traced the velvet around her body, not touching her skin. She shook her head, feeling her hair brush her cheeks with the motion.
“The brightest jewel in my kingdom.” His smile was determined, almost cruel. She shivered as he continued, “Did you know I own all of the riches below the earth? All the gold, the silver, the diamonds...they all belong to the ruler of the Underworld.”
She shook her head again, not trusting her voice. He knelt beside her and she saw he was naked. Swallowing hard, she looked up to his face. “You shine brighter than any diamond. I had to have you, Sephie.”
Persephone closed her eyes, shaking her head and feeling tears slip down her temples. Shocked by the weight of him next to her on the bed, she stiffened. His palm stroked the skin of her belly, neutral ground between two sensitive poles. The warmth of his hand was like a brand, setting her skin afire.
Persephone sought to distract him and perhaps delay the inevitable. “Water. Please, Aidon.” He reached out and retrieved a chalice, lifting it to her lips. She drank greedily, the liquid spilling down her chin.
“Easy, now…” His eyes lingered over the droplets on her throat.
She tilted her head, indicating she’d had enough. “Thank you.”
“Now, try this.” He reached for a second chalice, this one containing an amber liquid, and held it to her lips. She took a hesitant sip, then closed her mouth and turned away. The liquid burned her throat. She made a face, coughing.
“It’s an acquired taste.” He chuckled.
Her thirst abated, she felt warm, though her head felt a little fuzzy again. “Can you untie me?”
“I don’t think so.” He shook his head, his admiring gaze running up the slope of her arms raised above her head. “Only a falconer knows when it’s time to untether the falcon.”
She looked at him, tears brimming. “Where can I go? I’m in Hell.”
Aidon frowned and then sighed. He reached above her head and untied her arms. She groaned, rubbing her flesh to let a little feeling back. They tingled and throbbed as they came back to life.
