In the Veil of Chaos

by Logan Keys

  Once Persephone is handed over to Narcissus, she will die, one way or the other. Hades mulls that over: a world where Persephone is dead and Narcissus still lives.

  Hades shakes his head. If Narcissus lays one finger on Persephone’s golden head, Hades will kill him, ban him from the Elysian Fields and leave him to rot in Tartarus for eternity. If Hades did as Thanatos suggested, stepped into the eye of the storm, Persephone might have a chance to get out unscathed.

  Hades calls for a hellhound. Brutus, a rangy, inky black beast with ice blue eyes, pads toward him and rubs around his legs. The dog is young and still gentle. The hatchlings on his neck and tail don’t yet crave blood.

  Stroking the hound’s head, Hades waits until his eyes turn red. “Find Persephone for me. Don’t hurt her in any way and don’t bring her here. Once you’ve found her, return to me.”

  Brutus disappears and reappears almost instantaneously. Hades blinks. “Brutus, I asked you to find Persephone. Now go.”

  The hound scrabbles and whines. When Hades doesn’t react, Brutus spins around in circles and bounds down the tunnel. Hades follows until his private rooms appear.

  Brutus sits outside Hades’ bedroom, tongue lolling and body wiggling. Thuds crash on the inside of the door, repetitive and desperate. “Open, damn you.”

  It’s a voice Hades will never forget. Raising his hand, the doors open inwards. Persephone Demeter stands there with a sheet draped around her glorious, naked curved body.

  Her golden hair tumbles over her shoulders and down her back. Frantic, red-rimmed turquoise eyes meet his. “This is not what it looks like.”

  Persephone twists the sheet around her body. One perfect breast threatens to spill out. “Where are your clothes? I’ve been looking and I can’t find any. I’m freezing.”

  There is a slight blue tinge to her skin. Hades does something he never thought he’d do. “Heat,” he orders. The temperature rises, but it’ll be unsatisfying to the both of them. Too cold for Persephone and too hot for him.

  Hades points to the wardrobe. “Ask it for whatever you want. It’s magic.”

  Persephone squints and scuttles. Her feet twist on the sheet hanging down her back. Hades can see the top of her magnificent bottom.

  Opening the door of the wardrobe, Persephone mutters. “Warm, please. Anything.”

  A white snowsuit, complete with a hat, gloves, and boots, wraps around Persephone’s body. She puts her arms out and scans herself. “What even is this?”

  If Hades had a sense of humor, he might laugh at this turn of events. “Persephone, what are you doing here? How did you even get in here?”

  Persephone glances out the corner of her eyes. “That’s a long story, an accident. I’m not a stalker. Okay? I used a mirror to escape and I realize now my instructions could have been clearer.”

  It’s the story of her life, Hades thinks. “Perse, we need to talk. Everyone is looking for you.”

  “Looking for me?” Persephone stalks forward with fat tears streaking down her cheeks. “Where were you? I looked for you in every face that came into that monstrosity of a room you stuck us in and you know who came to see me? Not. You.”

  Hades steps backward. An angry Persephone is a novel experience. She’s the girl of carefree laughter and fun.

  He rolls the truth around his mouth, the words that will bring her pain. “I was settling your father into his new reality. I wanted to do it myself.”

  The color drains from Persephone’s face. “He didn’t go to Tartarus, did he? Please don’t say that.”

  Hades shakes his head. “He acquitted himself well at the Place of Judgment, Perse. He’s in the Elysian Fields.

  “Is he with my mother and Jason?” Persephone’s eyes well-up. “Is he happy?”

  “Yes.” Hades nods. “He’s with your mother and brother. I granted them their wish.”

  “By the gods and goddesses.” Persephone sways and stumbles. “My father is… dead. He’s really dead and I'm all alone, Hades. This is real. It’s really real.”

  Hades reaches out and wraps Persephone in his arms. He grits his teeth against the heat radiating through her snowsuit. Exposure to her skin for long periods of time will turn him mortal.

  “Shhh, Perse.” Hades hugs her tighter. “You’re not alone. I’m here.”

  “Thank you.” Persephone breaks until her cries become silent. Hades strokes a soothing hand down her hair. There was always a little wildness in her, a nervousness that made her gallop from one end of her emotions to the other with little in between.

  As someone with few emotions, it fascinated him. No one had ever felt more alive than Persephone. No one ever will.

  “When’s the last time you slept, Perse?” Hades draws back. “You look exhausted.”

  “I don’t know.” Persephone rubs fists into her eyes. “I actually can’t remember.”

  “Pajamas,” Hades orders. The snowsuit disappears and practical, white pajamas cover Persephone from head to toe. He pushes her into bed and covers her up. “They’ll keep you warm. Now sleep,” he says, weaving some magic. “Sleep.”

  Persephone’s eyes droop and close. The black accentuates her golden hue. If Helen’s face could launch a thousand ships, Persephone’s could start the war to end all wars with Hades leading the charge.

  Turquoise eyes snap open and Persephone stares at him. “I have no right to ask,” she starts in a groggy voice, “but I don’t want to be alone. Please, stay with me.”

  “Perse.” Hades grimaces. “I want to, but it’s not wise for us to be close.”

  “Please, Hades,” Persephone begs. “Just until I fall asleep. One night won’t kill us. Surely, the gods wouldn’t be that cruel? I need you.”

  Against his better judgment, Hades crawls into bed beside Persephone. She rolls over and puts her head on his chest. One of her slender arms goes around his waist.

  Hades moves her skin away from his, but he can still feel her burning through his clothes. His flesh begins to soften where she’s touched. The gods are cruel, very cruel indeed. They both know this first hand.

  “I wish.” Persephone’s voice trails off. She draws in ragged breaths that reduce to soft huffs. She’s fast asleep in the dream world with her family where Hades sent her.

  Slipping out of bed, Hades kisses Persephone on the forehead. His lips leave blue marks on her skin until they fade and she returns to normal. “Me too, Perse. Me too.”

  Persephone

  Persephone spies a piece of obsidian buried in the golden sands. She glances at her family standing on the giant barge on the calm blue sea. Her parents brought her and Jason here to see the world above the Lands, arguing that if they were to rule Summer then they should know the reason why.

  They’d fallen in love with the Greek Isles. It was their family secret, their bond. They had often joked that if they went to the Elysian Fields, they would meet here.

  Persephone glances up. Her family has their arms around each other, Mother in the middle of Jason and Father. A halo shimmers behind the Golden Demeters, shining as bright as the sun.

  They wave to Persephone and she throws both arms in the air. The urge to go to them gets stronger, but she wants to show them the black treasure she’s found. Bending over, Persephone digs the stone out with her fingers.

  The cold creeps up through her hands. Persephone tries to drop the stone, but it sticks to her skin. Shielding her eyes against the glare, she realizes the boat is in the distance.

  It’s rising and cresting on waves until it drifts smoothly away on the sea. They’re leaving her. Persephone runs along the shoreline waving her arms. She opens her mouth, but no sound comes out.

  The boat is in the distance now and then it’s gone. All that remains is the calm, empty ocean. Persephone falls to her knees begging the gods and goddesses to go with them, but they’ve never answered her prayers.

  Persephone’s eyes crack open and the dreamscape disappears. She’s in a bright and cheery room. Everything is
nearly all white, except for the drapes that have gold threads striped through them.

  Hades. Persephone sits up in the bed. She came to him and he took her in. She knew he would, even though she never meant to. She never wanted to ask.

  This room says he’s trying to accommodate her. She could easily mistake this place for Summer, but there are subtle differences. The light is muted and there’s a chill in the air.

  The energy that sings through her veins in her homeland is dormant. Persephone shakes her hands, but there’s nothing, not even a spark. Only the dead of Winter can nullify her powers so completely.

  Persephone’s stomach growls as lavish food appears on a table. Stumbling out of bed, she finds all her favorites. She devours the Greek yoghurt, drizzling honey on it until there’s none left.

  She’s halfway through six pancakes when a large black dog bursts into the room, panting, and sits by her feet. It’s the only warning she has company. Hades hovers on the threshold, dressed all in black with shades over his light sensitive eyes.

  “His name is Brutus,” Hades says, pointing at the dog. “I’ve assigned him to you.”

  Persephone’s heart stutters and she chokes. She swallows a full glass of orange juice to recover. “Hades, please come in. I want to thank you. For everything.”

  Hades steps inside the door, but keeps as far back from her as possible. “I had to move you from the palace, Perse. Please don’t be alarmed, but the warmest place in the Underworld borders with Tartarus. You’re safe, but I’m going to ask you to stay in this room. Souls can’t escape once they’ve been judged and enter the abyss, but Shades have been known to wander on the way in. If you need to contact me, send Brutus.”

  Monster souls. The types that have committed the greatest sins of all worlds wandering in close proximity to her. Persephone shudders.

  “I know this room isn’t as warm as Summer, but it’s the best I could do.” Hades clasps a hand at the back of his neck before letting it drop to his side. “It’s also spelled for you and free from the usual rules of the Underworld. All food consumed in here will not make you a prisoner to this domain. Whatever you want or need, within reason, just ask.”

  “Thank you.” Persephone grins. “In a choice between monster souls and body temperature, I think I would rather be cold.”

  “At least you’ll survive in here until we can figure out what to do.” Hades’ smile is quick and brief. “Everywhere else in the palace is going to be too hostile for you.”

  “All the worlds and all the Lands feel that way at the moment.” Persephone sighs. “At least I know what I’m in for with Winter.”

  “We need to talk, Perse.” Hades’ mouth is a thin line. “It’s important.”

  Persephone takes that as a given. If Hades ever deigns to have a conversation, it’s serious. “I’m sorry for being here, Hades. I didn’t mean to barge in. I won’t stay long, I promise. I’ll be gone as soon as I can. The Sybils might be a good place to start. Oracles are always good for inspiration and getting people out of messes. If there’s no way out, then they could give me the name of a Temple that might take me in.”

  “Perse.” Hades’ quiet tone stops her rambling. “That’s the least of our worries at the moment. Narcissus has called the Host and run the banns. He’s challenging you officially for the title to the Land of Summer.”

  Her world begins to sway backward and forward. Persephone pokes her fingers around her forehead. “Called the Host, run the banns? How could he? I’ve only just arrived here.”

  “No.” Hades shakes his head. “You’ve been asleep for three cycles of the sun.”

  The food in Persephone’s stomach threatens to come back up. “Three cycles? Well,” she sucks in her top lip, “I guess that’s plenty of time to do that then.”

  “Perse.” Hades pushes the sleeves of his black tunic up to the elbows. His white, stone cold forearms are rigid.

  A pang of longing hits Persephone in the chest. She used to love the feel of Hades’ arm around her. Even after all this time, her fingers itch to trace the lines and grooves of his body.

  But that was before Winter reached out and claimed him. Hades’ once warm body froze in time and space. His temperature too cold for Persephone to withstand indefinitely.

  “Do you understand what this means?” Hades’ voice drags Persephone out of the past. “Until you answer the challenge, your life is forfeit.”

  Persephone expected Narcissus to do this, but now it’s reality the magnitude settles in. She’s going to die. Whether it’s at the hands of Narcissus or anyone else living in the Lands—including the man standing in front of her.

  A peace settles over her. If Persephone is going to die, better at the hands of someone who once loved her and she loved him back. Hades touch would kill her, eventually. While that would be a perfect death to her, it would take too long to satisfy Narcissus.

  Persephone lifts her chin. “Okay, Hades, I understand. But can you make it as quick and painless as possible? And when I pass through death and come here, I want to be with my family. I don’t think I’ve done anything to deserve Tartarus, but I could be wrong.”

  Hades is frozen. “I’m not going to kill you, Perse. How could you even think such a thing?”

  “Why not?” The hysteria inside Persephone builds. “Narcissus will do it. He’ll drag me out in front of everybody and throw a sword in my hand. Then he’ll butcher me as everyone cheers him on. That’s not how I want to die. Please, Hades. You loved me once, so do me this kindness. Kill me in private and spare me the indignity of a public execution.”

  “No.” Hades shakes his head, slowly. “It’s not the only option, Perse. The way I see it, you have three choices. I want to talk you through them and you need to weigh them carefully.”

  Hades takes the chair opposite her. He’s always been stoic, the man cool in a crisis, but the set of his jaw and shoulders indicate he’s struggling with what he’s about to say.

  “The first, you make peace with Narcissus and marry him. If that’s what you can live with, then Zeus, Thanatos, and I will broker the deal. You have my word.”

  Persephone’s skin crawls at the thought of Narcissus’ hands on her. “I can’t do that, Hades. I’d rather die.”

  Hades’ jaw and shoulders lose some of their tenseness. “I thought you’d say that. The second, you can accept his challenge and fight in the arena. I could train you, give you a fighting chance.”

  Persephone runs that scenario through her head. “A warrior I am not. Even if you trained me for an eternity, I couldn’t bring myself to kill another person no matter how much they deserve it.”

  A ghost of a smile crosses Hades’ face. “I know, which is why I thought of the final option.” He dips his head and can’t meet her eyes. “You can marry me.”

  Persephone’s heart skips and races. “Marry. You?”

  The large ruby ring on Hades’ hand stands out as he strokes the large black head of Brutus. He’s always been kinder than anyone gives him credit for. “As your husband, I can answer Narcissus’ challenge on your behalf and make this all go away.”

  Persephone’s heart sinks. Of course, Hades doesn’t want to marry her. He’s just being noble. She’s a stupid, stupid girl who’s brought untold trouble to his doorstep and here he is, still trying to save her ridiculous, ungrateful self.

  “Hades.” Persephone speaks over the growing lump of pain in her throat. “I’m grateful to you. I truly am, but I can’t let you do this.”

  Climbing to his feet, Hades turns his back and walks way. He’s thrown her a lifeline and Persephone in all her clunky glory has offended him. “Wait.” She sucks in all her courage and halts him at the door. “I need to be honest with you. Do you remember the last funeral here? The one before my father’s?”

  Hades mouth and jaw are rigid. Persephone knows he does. She walks toward him and stops, keeping a safe distance between them.

  “It was the funeral for the last Lord of Winter who had ru
n his cycle. We were going to announce our engagement at the Feast, call the Host and run the banns in celebration. You were standing right next to me at the funeral pyre and when the sacred fire touched the wood, your hair turned inky black and your eyes frosted over. I watched your skin turn white and become as cold and hard as stone. We couldn’t even touch or kiss each other goodbye.”

  An agony of misfortune at their fate gathers in Persephone’s eyes. “It’s not that I don’t want to marry you. I do. The only marriage proposal I’ve ever accepted was yours. I loved you, dreamed of marrying you, having your children, and spending eternity with you. This… just seems like such a mockery of that. We can’t touch, taste, or make love. I can’t live like that, Hades. Not with you. To be so close to you and not be with you would be torture.”

  Hades closes the distance between them. “But you’d be alive.” His clean, cold breath wafts over her face. “If Narcissus harms you, I’ll kill him. I’ll unleash the Night Army on Summer for standing by and letting it happen. Then I’ll ban your people from the Elysian Fields for eternity.”

  Persephone balks. He means it. Hades never says anything he doesn’t mean. Her people would be left to roam the Underworld or corralled into the abyss of Tartarus where the beasts feed on pain and misery. Persephone can’t allow that. “Hades, no. Summer is my people. Most are innocent and don’t deserve that.”

  Hades reaches a hand out and draws it back before touching her. Persephone’s skin tingles anyway. “You need to understand something. I would destroy a thousand souls for you.”

  Persephone’s heart is in her mouth. “So, you do want to marry me or at least don’t want to see me dead?”

  Hades rips his shades off and stares into her eyes. His eyes narrow in the light, but they don’t break contact with her face. “I’ve always wanted to marry you, Perse. Given our situation, I just didn’t think it was fair on either of us until now. I know this is not how we imagined it, but we can make it work. I could not bear to see you dead.”