“Hermione.” Helen smiled fondly. “The last time I saw her was her ninth birthday. I imagine she’s down here somewhere, but she probably drank from the Lethe to forget me. They all hated me in the end.”
“You were just a scapegoat,” Cassandra reminded her.
“I wish they would have just listened to you,” Helen replied.
“Even without the curse, my brother was too much of a moron to listen to anyone.”
“Who cursed you?” I asked.
“Apollo. I was his priestess, but he wanted me to be a bit more…” Cassandra bit her lip, considering her word choice. “…active in my worship. I refused, so he cursed me with visions of the future no one would believe in life. Death was actually kind of a relief to me.” She shook her head. “Forget about us. We’re supposed to be cheering you up.”
“You don’t have to cheer me up. Nothing happened to me. I just—” I sighed, trying to put my feelings into words. I couldn’t really talk about my problems to Cassandra or Helen. I was alive. I’d escaped every horrible fate that presented itself to me. They hadn’t been so lucky.
“Take a look,” Helen said gently.
I opened my eyes and stared into the mirror at their handiwork. “You guys are amazing!” My eyes looked both dreamy and mysterious. My skin glowed, and I finally understood what kissable lips looked like. “What should I do with my hair?” I asked, touching it uncertainly.
“Leave it down,” they said in unison.
“Wear this,” Helen said, touching my shoulder.
I now wore an off the shoulder peasant dress the precise shade of my eyes. The flowing gown somehow emphasized every curve. “I can’t leave the room like this.”
“Oh yes you can,” Cassandra said, pushing me toward the door. “Go find Hades.”
“What am I supposed to say?”
“Guys like gratitude. Say you forgot to thank him for saving your life or something,” Helen said, shutting the door behind me.
“Tell us everything!” Cassandra cried from behind the closed door.
I walked uncertainly down the hall.
Chapter XVIII
Once I was out of my comforting room, my hands began to shake. Images from the afternoon played before my eyes. I looked down at my dress and snorted in disgust. What was wrong with me? Getting a makeover after watching the man who tried to abduct me tortured?
I stopped outside of Hades’ library. Raised voices made their way through the door.
“I asked you to do one thing! One thing, Thanatos! How could you let this happen!”
“Don’t blame this on me! She wanted to be alone. Whose fault was that, I wonder?”
“What?” Hades’ voice had a dangerous edge to it.
“I heard the way you talked to her after you let Orpheus go. The whole kingdom heard the way you were talking to her. You can’t treat her that way, like she’s some nymph—she’s a goddess! Zeus and Demeter’s child, no less. She outranks everyone down here but you, and you would never talk to us like that!”
Hades replied. I couldn’t make out the words, but the quiet fury in his voice had me taking a step away from the door. What did Thanatos mean I outranked him? The only hierarchy I knew of was generational. The further removed from the Titans, the less powerful you were. Was Thanatos further down the line than me, or did this have something to do with being queen?
“She shouldn’t need a guard!” Thanatos protested. “She shouldn’t even be here! I warned you this might happen. I told you to take her back to Demeter—”
“Demeter is nowhere near as powerful as you remember. She wasn’t safe there.”
“What you did to that girl wasn’t right. She’s just a kid…”
Their voices faded into quiet murmurs, and I wondered why Hades wasn’t using a shield.
“Do you really want to go there, Hades?” Thanatos snapped. “Half your power should be mine. I shouldn’t have to beg for more Reapers every time—”
I ducked my head. Hades wasn’t using a shield because the library was his sanctuary. He shouldn’t have to worry about people listening in. I hadn’t known that Thanatos resented his station in the Underworld, but it made sense. He was the God of Death, and all anyone ever talked about, worried about, or prayed about was the afterlife.
I walked away from the door. I shouldn’t be hearing this. It was bad enough I’d gotten Thanatos in trouble. I walked to the banquet hall, my steps becoming faster and more erratic the nearer I got. I stopped when I saw the statue that was Pirithous fastened to his chair.
Long minutes passed as I stared at the statue. A door down the hall slammed and angry footsteps filled the hall. I dropped to my knees. I was sorry for all of it. The worry I’d caused my mom, the chaos I’d caused Hades, the trouble I’d gotten Thanatos into, the time everyone down here had invested in me that I’d nearly thrown away this afternoon. And most of all, I was sorry that I was responsible for the torture of a human being, no matter how much he’d deserved it.
The thoughts and fears I’d kept at bay all night rushed through my brain. I didn’t know if he could hear me, but I knew he was alive in there, praying for death.
“I’m so sorry,” I whispered.
“He doesn’t deserve your pity,” Hades said from the doorway.
“I know that.”
Hades sighed. “I thought Cassandra was looking after you.”
“I don’t require looking after.”
“Clearly.”
“I hate him.” My breath caught. “I’ve never hated anyone, but I hate him. I still didn’t want this.” I gulped back tears. “How could you do this? How could she?”
“Do you want me to undo it?” he asked harshly. “Snap my fingers and put this scumbag back in your path?” He walked across the room with an angry stride. “Let him hurt you? Try to drag you away from me? I could do it, if you wanted. Just say the word.”
I was shaking uncontrollably. I opened my mouth to tell him of course I wanted this undone. This was torture, inhumane, wrong. The lie stuck in my throat. I was a monster. Despite my horror, I was relieved that Pirithous was out of the way. A small part of me was furious for all he’d done, and what he’d tried to do. He deserved this.
“I—”
“Yes, Persephone?” Hades asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
I had the momentary satisfaction of watching panic cloud his features when I burst into tears. “I did this, didn’t I? When I asked mom to do whatever it takes. I knew, on some level I knew what I was asking. I’m a monster.”
“It’s okay,” Hades said, kneeling to my level. “Don’t cry.” His voice took on a hint of desperation. “Please, don’t cry.”
I felt his hand rest upon my shoulder, and I had a flash of Hades sitting at the table casually eating pomegranate seeds while Pirithous screamed in agony. I jerked away from his touch.
“Don’t be afraid of me,” he pleaded. “Not you. I never wanted to hurt you. I’m sorry.”
“Of course not, you were protecting me. You and my mom both.” I sniffled. “This is what protecting me looks like.”
“I shouldn’t have let you see.”
“You’re the Lord of the Underworld,” I quoted Cassandra. “You didn’t think I knew you had a dark side? You did what you had to. He broke into your realm and tried to take someone under your protection, at the bidding of another god. If you hadn’t acted—”
“It would have been taken as a sign of weakness.”
“You’re not weak. Neither is my mother. You’re both capable of more darkness than I’d ever—” I shook my head. “I don’t like it, but I’m not stupid. I’m benefitting from your reputation. It’s why I’m safe here.”
“Exactly.”
“If I wasn’t so weak, if I was more like you, I wouldn’t need protection.”
Hades frowned, apparently trying to follow my erratic shift in logic. “No,” he said as comprehension dawned on him. “You don’t have to be like the rest of us.”
&
nbsp; “I’m already more like you than I’d care to admit. It’s inevitable, isn’t it? Right now I’m just some stupid kid, but over eternity…” I took a shuddering breath, wiping the tears from my eyes. “I don’t want to be rescued or looked after. I want to take care of myself.” I looked away from Pirithous. “This is how the gods communicate with each other, isn’t it? Shows of force, hurting people? Otherwise you look vulnerable, and right now I’m—”
“No! You don’t have to play those games. You don’t have to be like us. Everything’s different now. You—” he motioned to me “—you’re the way we should be. You’re good, just, and compassionate.”
Had I really used those same words to describe Hades only a few weeks before? I laughed bitterly at my naïveté. “Everything’s different?” I asked, motioning to Pirithous. “Really?”
“You won’t have to be this way! Your mother and I will—”
“Fight all my battles? I’ll just be a more appealing target.” I wiped the tears off my face. “More than I already am anyway. Life’s daughter, Death’s bride, and a daughter of Zeus to boot. Who doesn’t have a score to settle with one of you? I’m not even safe from humans because of my stupid charisma.” I spat out the word.
“No.”
“Boreas hates her, doesn’t he? Her nature intrudes on his winter, life persists during the season of death, and this didn’t have much to do with me at all. I’m just the weak link. The way that he can hurt her.”
“Boreas has done this before.”
“I’m sure he had a score to settle then, too. I’m not stupid. Boreas didn’t pop up after hundreds of years because I’m pretty.” I looked at Hades, daring him to deny it. “I bet he hates you, too. No one associates winter with death anymore, not really. People are still afraid of you, but he’s just a season. I bet he would hate Zeus if he were alive. Lord of the skies, infringing on his winter winds…but I’m the weak link. I can’t afford to be helpless.”
“You’ll find your own way. Violence isn’t in your nature. You’re…” He sighed, glancing up at the ceiling as he searched for the right words. “You’re light.”
I gazed at him uncomprehendingly.
“You’re good and pure and—” He sighed. “You’re the best part of everything having to do with life. You’re strong and brave. More than you know. You stood and fought in Tartarus.”
I shook my head. “I’m not brave. I’m just stupid. When something scary or bad happens, my mind shuts off and I act. Believe me, later, when it has time to process, I’m terrified.”
“You don’t have to be afraid. I can protect you. I just don’t want you to be afraid of me.” His arm wrapped around my shoulder, and I crumbled against him, clutching him tightly.
“I’m not,” I said, looking up at him. “That’s what scares me most of all.”
Hades brushed a tear from my cheek. I looked up at him, wide-eyed, and his breath caught.
“Hades…” I felt myself flowing toward him. I leaned into his touch as his hand moved down to my shoulder.
“Persephone, we can’t.” He dropped his hand.
I pushed away from him, climbing to my feet. “Because I’m so damn helpless, right? I’m so tired of you, my mother, and random abductors trying to make decisions for me.”
“We’re not—”
“I didn’t want to leave Athens!” I rushed on, scarcely taking time to breath as the jumble of my thoughts took shape into words. He stood, watching me warily. “I didn’t want to come here! I’m told what to do, where to go, what’s safe, what’s not. I can’t do this anymore!”
“You’re angry—”
“You think?” I moved closer to Hades, intentionally invading his space. His back went rigid, but I knew it wasn’t in him to back down. “I’m tired of being told I’m too vulnerable, too powerless, too young. I’m a goddess! My father gave me the ability to destroy cities with a smile. My mother gave me the power to create life, and you gave me power over the dead. I may never be able to do that—” I pointed to Pirithous “—to another person, but I shouldn’t be defenseless. I’m done running. I’m done hiding. And I’m done letting other people fight for me. I want to go after Boreas.”
“Wait. What?” Hades blinked, shaking his head. “And do what? You can’t kill a god any more than he could kill you.”
“Fine, I can’t kill him, but I can make him wish I could.” At his surprised look, I grew defensive. “What? I’m going to go all dark-side one day, anyway. I might as well do something so extreme he’ll think twice next time he chooses a victim.” I paused, considering. “Can gods be castrated?”
Hades coughed. “Uh…” He held up a hand, then shook his head. “Persephone, please don’t take this the wrong way, but right now you don’t have what it takes to go head to head with another god.”
“Then teach me.” A dull ache crept along the back of my head, and I rubbed at it.
Hades shook his head. “Self-defense is one thing. Teaching you to use your abilities, to protect yourself, and even giving you profiles on all the living gods so you know how to avoid drawing their attention is fine. Great idea, in fact. But I’m not letting you go after Boreas. My only goal in rescuing you was to keep Boreas from destroying you. Teaching you to go on the offensive would be counterproductive to that goal. I’ll handle Boreas.”
“It’s the same thing.” My skin was growing uncomfortably warm. It itched like bugs were crawling beneath the surface. I rubbed my arms, trying to regain my train of thought. “Doing something in my name is the same as…” I hissed as the ache in my head grew more pronounced, hand flying to my forehead.
Hades touched my temple with his index finger, eyebrows gathering together in confusion. “What the hell…?”
The door to the banquet hall burst open and Cassandra ran in, her face pale. “Hades!”
“Orpheus!” He swore, tilting my chin up so he could look into my eyes. “That idiot.”
“What’s happening?” I asked around the buzz in my ears.
“Persephone, I need you to focus, okay?” He grabbed both of my shoulders as my eyes glazed over. “Persephone!”
My body stiffened as my mind exploded with pain. I hit the floor, convulsing. The pain grew worse with each heartbeat. Molten glass poured through my veins. I couldn’t see the banquet hall anymore. Colors flashed in and out of my vision.
I screamed. Some part of me was aware of Hades and Cassandra holding me down as I writhed back and forth.
“Listen to me!” he yelled in panic. “Persephone!”
I shrieked, fingernails trying to claw into the marble floors. I couldn’t think, couldn’t form words. I felt as though I could fly apart any minute. It burned; I was being burned alive from the inside out. It felt a thousand times worse than when Zachary had tried to free the soul from my body.
“Do something!” Cassandra shouted.
Hades swore, grabbing both of my hands. “Persephone! Give this to me!” He pressed his hands against mine. “Damn it! She has to consent!”
My wordless wail crescendoed. Hades pressed his hand against my forehead and my body went still. I struggled against the invisible binding. I couldn’t move. The pain inside of me begged for some kind of outlet. Hades lifted me and pressed his lips to mine. His voice intruded on my thoughts. Tell me I can take this.
It hurts! It hurts! It hurts! It hurts! The only cohesive thought I could form kept screaming through my head.
I can fix this, if you let me.
I struggled to interpret his words through the red fire of pain, but I grasped firmly to the hope he offered. Please!
Hades took my hands into his. I felt a pulse of energy sear through me like a burning brand, and then the pain stopped.
My eyes fluttered open and met his. His thoughts and feelings swirled through my head. They were foreign, dark, conflicted, and raw. My mind latched onto them, trying to make sense of them.
With his name on my lips, I sank into blissful darkness.
Cha
pter XIX
I woke up in my bed, painfully bright light streaming through my window. I blinked, disoriented, and then the pain hit. It was as though someone had slammed a pick ax through my temple and the seven dwarves were singing “Hi-ho!” at the top of their lungs while tap dancing. I doubled over in agony, grasping my head with clawed hands. The green fabric from the dress was glaringly bright. I squeezed my eyes shut, unable to think.
“I’ll let Hades know you’re up,” Cassandra whispered from the papasan chair.
I winced at her voice but managed a tight nod.
Seconds later Hades burst into the room. I groaned at the noise and Cassandra smacked his shoulder, making a shushing gesture with her other hand.
“What’s wrong with me?”
Hades sat beside me and grabbed my hand. “Orpheus has gone public.”
I struggled to remember what an Orpheus was.
“Persephone.” His authoritative voice brought my eyes to his. “I need you to concentrate for a minute. Take a deep breath.” He breathed in deeply, watching to make sure I did the same. “Take all that pain in your head and push it to me.”
I stared at him.
“I think she needs you to clarify that,” Cassandra said helpfully.
He looked frustrated. “Look, I’m not the God of Poetry or Good Descriptions, okay? Just do it. I’ll explain what it means later.”
I closed my eyes. Without Hades as a distraction the pain in my head came back in waves that threatened to pull me under. I struggled to hold onto consciousness. I focused on my hand clasped in his. For all his calm demeanor, his tight grip told me he was worried.
I gathered energy in my hands, surprised when they grew warm. The pain in my head lessened as I imagined more filling my hands. For a moment, I held it there, feeling like a stretched out rubber band. Then I released it into Hades.
“That’s it,” he murmured, releasing me.
“What are you going to use it for?” Cassandra asked.
“A grove of trees near the palace.”
“That’s the best you could think of?”
Persephone Page 15
