by Logan Keys
I stop Zeus from following. “Leave it be,” I say. “You have won.”
He smiles a brilliant smile and tosses his golden head. “I always do.”
And he disappears, but I sense he’s gone back to Olympus. Probably to tell Styx about his conquest.
I wait in the shadows, and I wait patiently. I want to know what Persephone will have to say about this.
Gaea
I’d done myself a disservice thinking I was a match for the gods. That Hades or any of them would stand against Zeus. If he were not as he is, then they might have, but the one god capable of such treachery is of course the same who would take my family down by one, and here is the result.
I will die.
Soon.
I do not regret giving Alastor his life for mine. I only wonder will he even know it? The gods, have they replaced his memories and now it is he who is grieving knowing I’m dead? Will he remember his own death? Will he know of the trade?
I expect not.
And as I could not bear to live without my brother, it would only be the same for him. Though there is nothing I can do for it. He must move on, and I only hope that Carn will aid him in his new life, free from eternal rest in the Elysian fields. I had not thought previously if I would be placed there or if Tartarus was my end. Now that I have disobeyed, will Hades dole out the harsh punishment, deeming me worthy of damnation? For one sin against the gods.
I laugh to myself. “Only one, Gaea?”
“What’s so funny?”
I breathe deeply and close my eyes. I can sense him before I even see him. It is the dark one. The shadow god. “Thanatos,” I whisper, and while he becomes corporeal, I also sense hesitation. As if he does not know what to do with one such as me. We are in agreement then.
“Am I peculiar to you, god of eternal slumber?”
“Quite.”
I laugh at his strange accent. “What thine eyes have seen. Thine ears have heard.”
He finishes the rhyme we humans learned as children. “The gods have not slept nor eaten nor spoken a word.” The belief is that there was a time that the gods turned their backs upon us. “Do you feel that way then, Gaea,” he asks. “Have we turned our backs to you?”
“Quite,” I mimic the strange word. It comes off the tongue quick and tight like a whip. I do like this language of his. It is prompt and lacks elegance. Something I can embrace at a time like this… for my time is running out.
Thanatos’ mouth quirks, and by the strain to its turn, those lips have rarely made such a position.
“Ah,” I say, leaning my head back onto the gritty walls of my prison, only to hiss and bring it up again. The place is abusing me by the second, and it feels as blocks of ice are all around me, including Thanatos himself. As he draws near, the chill of a thousand winds strikes me from all sides.
“Ah?” He smiles further.
“Hmm. I can die happy now. I have made death smile,” I say.
“You have indeed.”
“How soon is it then?”
His shrug is timeless. “Not as soon as I’d like for you.”
“Why?”
“Why?”
It is me who smiles. Death is not at all as the living would assume. He has the infinite gaze of darkness, yes, but he also has a charming curiosity that makes me feel that if I had not been dying, I should enjoy conversing with Thanatos greatly. Too bad. “Why are you on my side?” I ask. “I could not have guessed that Thanatos himself would take a side against anything but life itself.”
He touches his chin in thought. It’s pointed almost, sharp, and cutting, same as his cheekbones. “I stand against anything with my brother. I stand for justice when the cause is worthy.”
I tilt my head at his strange phrasing. “I am a worthy cause?” The sentence is clumsy on my tongue. The words he uses are foreign to me, but somehow, I understand them perfectly here.
He nods, his eyes locked tightly to mine, and I am entranced by blackness that sinks me into their depths with ease. “Your plight.”
I grow weary, as has been happening since I’d been imprisoned and my voice sounds very distant as my body begins to realize it cannot use fury, or anger to beat this foe. “And you are still my enemy, after all,” I whisper, dozing, head drooping.
“Rest now, Gaea. You have no enemy here.”
Thanatos
I have no reason to be as furious as I am. Hades is trying to explain to Persephone why he’s got a captive below that is slowly dying in agonizing pain. I enjoy his verbal gymnastics. He can never stand to make his beautiful wife unhappy.
“She’s not exactly suffering as punishment, my love,” he says softly to Persephone’s thunderous expression. “Gaea chose not to die immediately. She asked to feel it. I must comply with the wishes of this dying soul.” He winces at how pathetic it sounds spoken aloud.
His wife is rarely perturbed, but the blue glow of anger pulses from within her. “I don’t doubt she asked to ‘feel it,’ my love.” She bites off the words in an angry copy of his accent. “But she did not know what she asks for—how can she? Has she been to the underworld to visit lately that I don’t know about? How did she end up here in the first place?”
“A complicated story.” Hades rubs his brow and glances at me for help.
I cross my arms, offering none.
He sighs. “Zeus’ doing. Not ours. I can assure you, I’d have both her brother and her alive and well if it were my choice.”
Persephone folds her hands in her lap, sitting in her throne next to Hades. She slants her face towards him. “By the gods, what a blight it is to be a favored war lord or Warrior Princess in the human world. They are nothing but play things.” She levels us both with a look and I gape. How had I suddenly joined her bad side? “How is this not your choice, husband? Brother,” Persephone snaps toward me. “She is dying. She is in our lands of the underworld. She is at death’s door,’ so, correct me if I am wrong, but that makes her your responsibility, Thanatos, and afterwards, yours, Hades. Has that changed while I was away minding your children?” Her voice has a syrupy sweet sarcasm that I will try to remember to employ whenever I want to create this chastised expression upon my brother’s face in the future.
Hades voice stays even, but he sounds exhausted with the situation. “I am not starting an all out war with Zeus for one warrior who did in fact steal a god-weapon and try to murder him. If it had been me, would you want the human punished for daring to take my life?”
“Would a human long to kill you as much as Zeus on a bad day?”
“Speak of the devil,” I say.
Persephone rises to face Zeus who materializes between us. “How dare you show your face in here!” she demands.
“Perse,” Hades warns.
“No. I don’t care. I’m not going to suffer his presence while this innocent girl is rotting away in our lands simply because of his careless, egotistical, idiocy!”
“Hear, hear,” I say.
Zeus raises his hand placatingly. “I did not know this would be the result. It was an accident. I can assure you, I meant for nothing like this to happen.”
“But it has,” Persephone reminds. “And now you let it go on. All of you.” She glares at Hades, me, and Zeus until we turn sheepish. “Thanatos, take her. Now. Do not let her suffer another minute. I cannot rest knowing this is unfinished.” Persephone comes to me with a pleading gaze that she knows I cannot refuse.
I would not harm my sister for all the world.
And then I feel for the human girl as I realize it must be how she’d loved her brother—the same love I have for both Hades and Persephone. She had only been doing what I would for mine.
I put my hands up and lock eyes with my brother. “If it were just that easy,” I murmur.
He knows now, it’s not. Gaea’s soul has chosen to remain. And he’s already given her permission for this one final battle.
She rounds on Zeus. “And you!” She lifts her dress, storming over,
power crackling, making her hair a live thing of colors and electricity. “What is this I hear about poor Artemis and Ares? You struck her wings off!”
“He made her feel human emotions while Ares is fully human.”
Zeus frowns at me. I don’t think he’d realized that I knew what he’d done. Not completely. “What for?” Persephone asks with confusion. Then her brow clears as she realizes something. “You bastard,” she hisses. She turns to her husband pointing at Zeus. “He’s done this for her virginity. Hoping that in her new founded passion she will grow out of control. And who will be there to sate her desires?”
She looks disgusted like I feel.
Zeus isn’t meeting her gaze when Persephone says, “You pitiful, man. Thinking Artemis would run into your arms now. Without her wings, she will hate you ever more.”
“Perse,” Hades says again.
“And that is punishment enough, isn’t it? To be despised by us all.”
Zeus palms light up. As if he will challenge Persephone, but she rises to the fight until Hades steps between his wife and the King. I step beside my brother. “Three against one,” I warn and Zeus backs off knowing that this will not end well. If he hurt Persephone, the entire lands would make him pay.
“This is my land,” Hades says with barely contained rage. “This is my wife.” He breathes until he can go on without losing his temper. The walls of the underworld groan from his fury. “And here she says what she wants. If your ears can’t handle the truth, if they itch for lies, then by all means, leave.”
Zeus glares at each of us. “This isn’t over,” he says. He springs into a whirlwind and disappears.
“He will be back,” I say.
Persephone is not finished. She regards me beseechingly. “I can’t have this woman suffering within our walls. On this day of celebration. We have invited everyone here to dine with us tonight for the birthday of your nephew. He loves you so. How would we feel if he knew this was happening on this joyous day?”
“Brother,” Hades says, putting his hands on my shoulders. “I know this feels wrong. I have mishandled things already. She is but a number on your list. Let this be finished. Take her.”
I nod, but again… it’s not as easy as all of that.
Gaea
I find Gaea in her cell speaking to herself.
“My walls of my prison are sweating as I am sweating, as I am finishing my life. They are the last thing to weep for me. I am alone… but… no….” She tries to smile, but the weight is too great to even lift her chapped lips. “There is a presence here. It must be my time.”
I am again confused how Gaea can sense me, but maybe before, when she’d spoken the immortal tongue, it had been a sign that she’d been touched.
She goes on with her gaze blurry and wavering, searching for me. But I withhold my form. “Perhaps I deserve to have you hover at my elbow, watching me from the other side until that moment when I am claimed by death's embrace. Embrace me…” she whispers. “But first, tell me, god of the dead, do you enjoy my final moments? Have they brought you something of value? Do me this one request if it pleases you. Show yourself to me so that I may look into the eyes of my end.”
Fading, veins pressed and visible against her skin, Gaea is no Warrior Princess anymore. Gaunt, frail, and falling fast, she is but a number to me, of the hundreds of thousands—millions I’ve brought home to Hades for judgement.
I reveal myself to her, crouching close, and her eyes shine with a dim glimmer of life left. “I am here,” I say.
“Good,” Gaea breathes. “I thought I had gone mad as well as perishing. A crazy woman, speaking to herself.”
She gasps in pain. I sit onto the floor, my chains rattling on the hard stones. Her eyes focus on them with apprehension, their icy coldness no doubt is reaching her from where I am. “These are not for you,” I promise.
"By the gods—er—by you, put your hood back so that I can remember the last face I shall see.”
I do as she asks, almost forgetting that I had changed between our last visit, into what I wear to claim her. With my cowl back, she gives a dry smile, meeting my eyes. "I would enjoy it more if you were ugly.” She makes a sound that is the husk of a laugh. “That they make death as beautiful as you is a blight on my soul added to the rest. I bet some cannot resist such a being even if you seem of ice frozen black at your edges. Terrifying, but strangely attractive, I will admit.”
When I do not answer, her eyes leak at their edges, and she stares up at the ceiling, no doubt wishing for the stars. “Is it my time?” she asks her breath hitching and then becoming erratic.
“It is.”
I remind myself that Gaea is just a number when a strange thought flits around in my mind. When a hesitation holds me and makes me unsteady. My hand will not reach for her and take what is mine. A number… as Hades reminded me, I try to count her just as another in a long line of those passing. "How would you like to leave?" I ask, finding that I am unwilling to do it fast and clean, as she deserves.
“Do you grant such to everyone?”
“I do not, Warrior Princess.” I tilt my head slightly to let her know that I respect her. I clamp my mouth shut so I do not make an apology for doing what I must.
She sighs, the air rattling in her chest. "A kiss then." She’s not seeing me anymore, her eyes are moving past the living to where we reside.
“So be it,” I agree, surprised that I’ve offered her the kiss of death, but wanting to grant her any request so that I can assuage the guilt I shoulder for watching Gaea suffer because of Zeus.
She closes her eyes and waits, but her laying on the cold floor of her prison strikes me as cruel. She should not have to die in such pain. Slowly, I lift the Warrior Princess into my arms and place her on my knee, almost like a child despite her size. She might be tall, but she’s still small to me.
Gaea huddles into me, shivering, because I do not offer warmth any more than the cell, but her body, unlike her mind, already knows to reach for me, because I am the easing of such suffering. Once dead, she won’t feel this anymore. Her soul is longing to be free.
The death kiss is a ritual more than it is a sensual thing most always. But as I place my lips upon her eyelids first, then onto the corner of her mouth, I feel a stirring within. Ignoring it, I press my mouth to hers, unsure.
Gaea reacts. Her eyes spring open, a dark haze swirling with the stars of eternity. Her body arcs back when she draws away but her hands grip my face and she pulls me along, reeling me toward the abyss with her so that I lose myself in the pressing of our lips. Warm, soft, and light sparks behind my eyelids when I close them as Gaea slips her tongue into my mouth, offering me a gift of her humanity with one small movement.
I should take the offering and end this now. My mind shouts: Take her!
But it is I who is shuddering now, holding her to me, praying she will stay just long enough for me to secure this feeling to memory for my own eternity. I want to somehow tame it and make it mine to remember for all time before she is gone.
Enthralled as Gaea explores me, her hands feeling along my clothing, no doubt hurting herself in the process—it would be like holding an icicle in her hand to grope me as she’s doing now. But, I let her linger. I give her nothing back but time.
Gaea, like any Warrior Princess, does not merely accept defeat. She plunders me. She pillages and raids my senses as if it is I that were conquered on her battlefield. I forget myself. I forget to offer her death and give in to my own desperate explorations of her mouth, of her body, and I sense her life, a finite thing, vitality, an even more thrilling thing than any power an immortal possesses—for it is a fleeting thing.
I groan as we shift ourselves closer, and she groans with me, making a chorus of our pleasure echo in the small space within the shadows. Finally, I have to thrust Gaea away because I am lost. I am not Thanatos’ of death, ruling the end of all humans and immortals alike—no. I have become a slave to a madness I did not believe existed befo
re. In wonder, I gaze at her, wanting to know something from a mere human. Wondering if all along they’d been the ones with the true knowledge of the universe. Sure as a human soul is lost to the underworld, I am lost in her—in life and the idea of living like they do. A world she has shown me in mere moments. Mortality. The taste of what truly living means.
She sits in my arms watching me carefully, but pulled free of my embrace, her chest heaving, her face is now colored with power.
I realize this with deep regret. I have been duped. I wipe my mouth in anger, more at myself than anything. "You stole from me."
She smiles a brilliant show of teeth, and her starlit eyes dance with mirth. "I took nothing that you did not give, Thanatos, God of the dead. And how you gave it all so freely."
She pets my face and I move my head out of reach.
With a tisk, Gaea untangles from my arms, and stands to her full six feet, bare, bold, proud and she cocks her hip daring me in some sort of game.
"And you never minded the taking," she whispers leaning down, her lips slanting across mine for a quick second.
Dumb as I am, I believe her phrase is one of wanting until I begin to rise and find some illogical tug holding me in place. How had she…
Her smile slides across her features like a live thing brightening her face further. Her tawny skin is now varnished with what would have been a tan from the sun, and her hair now is no longer a crazed mess but a silky glide of jet sliding across her back and bare rump. She's remade herself whole... from my power... power she stole from me.
I gape at her before I glance down, finally unlocking the trance to find that my own chains are wrapped around my middle, and I cannot move. I cannot even use my powers when the chains of death bind me. They bind any immortal and pull them to their judgment. Only Hades or Persephone can remove these now.
"You are mad after all,” I hiss at her. “If Hades finds you've bound me, he will put a thousand judgments on your head, Gaea. I would have been kind. I would have taken you without pain. But my brother will not. Not after this. He will---”
