That Fatal Kiss (14 page)

She found him seated upon his black throne, examining a small rectangular box in his hands. Drawing closer, she gasped at its beauty, declaring aloud, “That is the most magnificently crafted container I have seen in ages. It must surely be the work of Hephaestus.”

Hades set the box down upon the round table that stood between his throne and the ivory one he’d made for Persephone and then faced her. He opened his mouth to speak but did not. Instead, he simply stared at her, as if bewitched.

Pleased by his reaction, and not a little relieved that he seemed to have forgotten his previous frustration with her, Persephone asked, “What is its purpose?”

The appearance of the judge, Rhadamanthys, stayed Hades’ reply. “A mortal is here,” the judge said, “claiming to have been sent on an errand by the goddess Aphrodite.”

Hades nodded, motioning for Persephone to take her place by his side. “Send her in,” he told the judge, his expression growing severe.

Persephone eyed him uncertainly, though she complied with his unspoken command. She exchanged a smile with Rhadamanthys and waited for him to withdraw before asking in a low voice, “What is happening?”

“You are about to act in your official capacity as Lady of the Underworld.” Along with his features, the god’s body had grown rigid, exhibiting nothing but remote authority.

This could not bode well. In as disinterested a voice as she could manage, Persephone asked, “How am I to do so?”

“The mortal wife of our nephew, Eros, has come to beg a fragment of your beauty,” Hades said.

There was so much of the incomprehensible in the god’s words that Persephone hardly knew how to begin making sense of it. “What, Eros married? When? To whom?”

Hades expelled a breath, not best pleased, it seemed, at being asked to explain himself. “This mortal, Psyche. You will give her that box, warn her not to look within, and send her on her way.”

The goddess subdued a huff of her own. “And am I to understand you’ve somehow managed to make beauty a tangible thing, so as to gift it to a mortal?”

Hades’ face grew improbably darker. His eyes trained on the throne room’s portal, he said with some heat, “You are to understand that I have given you instructions which I expect you to follow.”

Persephone bristled at that but strove, valiantly, to master her temper. “I acknowledge that I should support you before all others, as your queen. But as my equal, you at least owe me an explanation for what you ask of me.”

The Lord of the Underworld turned an icy stare to her. “What I owe you is the opportunity to keep silent and do as I say.”

A mixture of disbelief, anger, and then disappointment robbed the goddess of speech. And then a woman, trembling violently with terror, entered the chamber. Hades silenced Persephone with a finger to his lips before turning a stony face to their guest.

Persephone shut her eyes and fought the intense temptation to scream.
He’s never had to answer to anyone before,
she thought, deliberately slowing her rapid breath and pulse.
He’s always ruled by himself.
The goddess felt her resentment leave her.
He’s always been alone. He can do better if you show him how.
Thus becalmed, Persephone turned to face the woman, bearing what she hoped was a more welcoming expression than Hades’.

Though she quivered like a leaf tossed about by howling winds, the woman’s beauty could not be questioned. Jet-black hair framed her pale features and violet eyes exquisitely. Persephone could not fault Eros for wanting her. She speculated, however, that the god’s love for his bride had overcome his good sense, as there was no mistaking the vacuous look in those magnificent eyes. The goddess looked over at Hades, curious to learn his measure of the mortal, and was not disappointed to see a similar question lurking about his face.

“How is it that you dare to trespass in my kingdom?” he barked.

Persephone rested her chin on her palm, casting a sidelong glance at him. She rather expected the woman to expire from sheer fright at his forbidding manner.

The mortal’s voice shook as she stated, “I am Psyche, w-wife of Eros. I-I-I have c-c-come at my m-mother-in-law’s b-bidding to request a portion of your wife’s beauty.”

Persephone took pity upon the poor woman and leaned forward in her seat. “Come closer, dear, you’ve nothing to fear from me.” She felt Hades’ disapproval immediately. She knew she strayed from his explicit directions, but her curiosity was piqued and she must satisfy it.

Psyche did not step forward, so Persephone smiled, beckoning her with a finger. The woman then took a few hesitating steps but jerked violently when Hades shifted on his throne.

The goddess faced her consort, whose eyes widened at her in warning. Persephone serenely held his gaze, instinct telling her he would not disgrace either her or himself in front of a mortal. Hades proved her right when he leaned back in his throne, seething quietly.

Persephone called Psyche forward again. “Why do you not tell me how you came to be Aphrodite’s messenger?”

Psyche gave her a look of astonishment. “Can you truly not know?” When Persephone shook her head, the woman began her tale.

Breathlessly, Psyche described how she became Eros’ bride, and how they’d lived and loved together without her knowing his identity, for he came to her only in the dark of night. She told of her sisters’ envy and how they convinced her to go against her husband’s wishes and attempt to discover who, and what, he truly was. Eros left her in anger and she attempted to locate him, but Aphrodite, who learned what transpired, had Psyche brought to her. The goddess berated her for her stupidity and charged the mortal with one impossible task after another, claiming that she had to prove herself worthy of her immortal husband.

“I have only been able to complete each one because the Fates took pity on my suffering and provided me with assistance at every turn,” Psyche said. “But just when I thought I had proven my love for Eros to his own dear mother, she told me she would not reunite us until I completed this final task. I nearly took my own life then, when she told me what she wanted of me.” Overcome by exhaustion and despair, Psyche lapsed into pitiful sobs and said no more.

Persephone could well believe Aphrodite capable of such cruel and malicious behavior. But she still turned to Hades, who confirmed the tale with a brusque nod. She looked back at the crying girl and sat back in her throne, pressing a hand against her suddenly throbbing temple. The woman was clearly a twit, but Persephone’s immortal heart was moved for, foolish though she was, Psyche’s love for Eros could not be disputed. But Persephone knew the falsely named Goddess of Love all too well; this task was really a neatly set trap in disguise. She was sure of it. Only she lacked an important piece of the puzzle, for she knew not how Psyche was to be tricked. Something evil lay within the beautiful box, something that would lead Psyche to her ruin. How could she help the girl prevail against Aphrodite while simultaneously conforming to Hades’ expectations of her?

His exaggerated cough broke through Persephone’s concentration. She turned to him and he glanced meaningfully at the box, indicating that she give it to Psyche. The goddess gave him a hard look, wishing she knew what consequences her obedience would bring. Her mind warned against giving him the benefit of the doubt. But her heart reminded her that she’d asked the same of him the night before, and he’d given it. She could not dismiss that act of kindness, which, she was learning, had not been his first. Somehow, she had to believe that he was doing no wrong here, that she could trust him not to ask of her something hateful and entirely against her character. For, her fierce attraction to him aside, Persephone could not love Hades if he did not understand and respect her.

Not breaking their eye contact, she picked up the box and rose to her feet. His eyebrow rose, as if to ask what kept her. Persephone ignored this, descended from her throne, and walked over to Psyche.

The goddess placed a hand on the girl’s shoulder to get her attention, willing her to rally, and waited while Psyche composed herself. “Take this,” Persephone said, placing the box in the other’s unsteady hands, “and give it to your mother-in-law.” She put her other hand on Psyche’s shoulder, her grasp firm, making the mortal look into her eyes. “Do not look inside it yourself, Psyche. You have listened to the advice of countless others, now heed my words. Do not look within.” She sent a spark of divinity through her hands and into the mortal’s body, hoping the added wisdom would keep Psyche from making another imprudent move. But the girl was so delighted to have attained her goal that she broke free from the goddess’s grasp and ran out of the throne room before she’d been able to absorb it all.

“What were you trying to do?” Hades asked sharply, uncrossing his arms and leaning forward in his throne.

Persephone turned to him. “I was trying to please you and appease my conscience at the same time. What was in the box?”

“Please me? By engaging her in a little chat?” he asked. “I half expected you to invite her to sup with us.” The god snorted then. “Or with
me
, at least, since you’re willfully starving yourself.”

Persephone chose not to rise to this bait, though her self-control was close to snapping. “I obeyed you,” she said, moving toward him. “You didn’t say I couldn’t talk to her first. Please tell me what was in the box, Aidoneus.”

Hades rose to his feet to tower over her. “Oh, so you remember my title now, do you? That I rule supreme in this world didn’t seem to trouble you before, when you deliberately strayed from my instructions—”

That’s when all reason left the goddess. “Your instructions be
damned,
” she fumed, climbing up to his throne. “You say you brought me here to be your queen, and yet you gave me an
order
, as if I were some lackey and not your own wife, whom you claim to worship. Well, my Lord Aidoneus, what I want is not to be worshiped, but to be
esteemed
.” She closed the distance between them and tapped her forefinger against his chest. “Now what, in the name of Thundering Zeus, was in that box?”

Hades froze in place, as if stricken by her words. When he opened his mouth to reply, she interrupted him again. “Where is that Viewing Mirror?”

Setting his face in grim lines, he gestured behind her. As Persephone turned around, she saw the weaving on the wall draw back to reveal an enormous bronze disc, and she ran over to it. “Show me Psyche,” she commanded, and it responded immediately. An image of Psyche, running back the way she’d come, soon appeared.

The goddess heard movement behind her and looked to find Hades coming down from his throne. His expression was solemn as he approached her, saying, “Persephone…I see that you are greatly concerned about the woman—”

“Psyche is in mortal danger, isn’t she? Something within that accursed box will be her undoing, yes?” Persephone turned back to the Mirror, letting out a bitter chuckle. “I didn’t want to believe you’d put me in a position to cause another harm, but that’s just what you’ve done, isn’t it?”

In tones far different from how he’d addressed her prior to Psyche’s arrival in the throne room, Hades began, “No, my dear—”

“Do not…” Persephone said, shutting her eyes against the tears threatening to spring from them. “Do not attempt to deceive me again with pretty words you cannot possibly mean.” She felt his hands on her shoulders but did not resist him when he gently turned her around to face him.

“But I do mean them,” Hades said, “and if you can put aside your ire, I will explain everything to your satisfaction.”

“My satisfaction?” she echoed. “What care you for my satisfaction? From your earlier performance, I see that what you truly seek is a wife as simple-minded and easily manipulated as that poor girl out there.”

“What care I? I, who need not defer to you, or any other, have submitted to your wishes like some mooning idiot—”

“Oh, is that what you’ve done? Submitted to my wishes? Are you dreaming, Hades? Were you ‘submitting to my wishes’ when you bade me keep silent and do as you commanded? No. You demanded my obedience, without giving reason, and because I wished to honor your role in this world, because I kept faith that you could not be asking anything of me so contrary to my nature, I obeyed you. Now leave me to discover the price of
my
submission in peace.” Persephone thrust Hades away from her and turned back to the Mirror.

The god made no further attempt to address her and the two watched as Psyche ran up a path that led to an opening into the Upperworld. It seemed as if enough of Persephone’s divinity had sunk in to keep the girl focused on her task. But just as she neared the light, her steps stilled and Persephone felt her stomach sink as Psyche eyed the box speculatively.

“For the love of Pallas, don’t do it!” Persephone said, but she protested in vain.

Unaware of the danger, Psyche undid the catch and raised the lid of the box. A black mist flew up and enveloped her. She slumped down into a senseless stupor and the box fell out of her hand and onto the ground.

Persephone pounced on Hades then. “What was that? Was that Death? Is she dead? Is that it? Can you let Eros’ wife die, just like that? Are we simply to leave her there now? I cannot credit it, you really did make me her murderer—”

Hades cut her off by gesturing at the Viewing Mirror with his chin. She turned back to it and saw Eros kneeling by his wife’s side. He swept a hand over her still form, catching up the black mist and returning it to the box, then shut it securely. Psyche came to her senses with a violent cough. Eros helped her sit up, ran another hand over her, helping to calm her cough, and took her face in hand to kiss her. She threw her arms around him and they vanished, leaving only the pernicious box behind them.

The goddess and god remained as they were when the Mirror reverted to its natural state and the weaving moved to cover it. Then Persephone withdrew to her throne. Hades watched as she seated herself.

Her gaze now fixed on the chamber’s portal, Persephone said, “Eros could not have known of Psyche’s peril unless you and he arranged this…event.”