That Fatal Kiss (27 page)

HADES PACED THE
floor of his bedchamber, frantic with worry for Persephone and starting at the slightest sound, thinking it might herald her return. After riding throughout Erebus the rest of the day in search of her, he returned to the palace, exhausted, and went directly to the throne room, ordering the Mirror to reveal his wife. But it refused to cooperate and fogged up instead.

The god knew she could not escape Erebus, but he did fear the thoughts that were poisoning her against him. Too, it was possible she’d separated from Hecate and now wandered the eastern realms of the Underworld alone. Hades told himself that, logically, there was nothing to fear. But instinct warned him that all was not well beneath Mount Etna. Still, it would not do to obsess over that which was uncertain, and so Hades resolved to put the intangible concern to rest while he fortified himself with his dinner.

However, when he sat down to eat, he found he could not and instead brooded over his ill fate. He cursed Aphrodite for a relentless bitch and swore to repay her meddling in kind. Then his anger gave way to resentment of Persephone’s. He’d done his utmost to please her and could not abide being cast in the role of villain when he had done nothing wrong. Indeed, he’d tried to rid himself of the nymph, when he could just as easily have followed in his brothers’ footsteps and carried on a secret affair without Persephone ever knowing. But he wanted no one other than his wife—why couldn’t she believe him?

Hades agonized over what he ought to do. He supposed he had no option except to await her return and hope she would let him explain what had truly transpired. Thinking it was going to be a long night, he forced himself to go to bed.

As the god pulled back the ivory sheets, a happy thought struck him. His earlier worry aside, it was more likely that Persephone remained in the Witch Goddess’ company. Hecate was one of the very few he could call friend; surely she would talk some sense into his wife. Or perhaps the Witch would use some enchantment to determine what had happened between him and the nymph! She would then explain it all to Persephone, who would, of course, be overcome with remorse.

This line of reasoning greatly pleased Hades. He stretched himself out on the soft linens and rested his head on his bent arm, giving in to a deep yawn. Hades fell asleep envisioning a happy reunion, with Persephone bearing apologies and he, the tolerant husband, welcoming her with arms wide open.

XVIII.

HADES HOVERED BETWEEN
sleep and consciousness the following morning when he stretched his hand across the bed. Expecting to meet with the warm, slumbering form of his wife, he instead came upon barren cold. After opening his eyes to confirm her absence, he sat up, his heart racing with alarm. Fuzzy moments passed as the god searched his memory for what might have happened to cause this unwelcome solitude. Then the image of his stricken wife, tearing off on Zephyr, penetrated the fog.

Hades’ eyes widened, sleepy no more. She should have returned to the palace by now. He told himself to think rationally; she might simply have taken up temporary residence in one of the other bedchambers. The god was about to clap for a servant when a knock sounded on the door. “Enter!” he called, certain he wouldn’t like whatever followed.

“Good morning, my Lord Aidoneus,” said Rhadamanthys as he entered the chamber. “I regret disturbing your slumber, however, I must ask you to accompany me to Tartarus at your very earliest convenience.”

Though the judge’s mien betrayed nothing untoward, Hades sensed that something was horribly wrong. “Why?”

“Well, my Lord,” the mortal said, clasping his hands behind his back. “It appears August Persephone chose today to better her acquaintance with the prison.”

“Persephone, in Tartarus?”

“Indeed, sir.”

Hades could not imagine his gentle lady choosing to enter the place of everlasting torture. Then terror gripped him. “The Titans!”

“Aye, my Lord. The Titans. Though I cannot be certain it was my Lady’s intent to seek them out, or that she even knows of their imprisonment there. When I last saw her, I did suggest she consider returning to the palace, but she was…in a bit of a state.”

Hades jumped out of bed and pulled on his clothes. “Hurry, we must find her before
she
finds
them
.” He followed the judge to the palace gates. Thunder had already been made ready for him and the two rode to the bronze fortification at a spanking clip. Rhadamanthys unlocked the massive portal and when Hades entered the prison he stared about in shock.

Tartarus occupied exactly one third of the Underworld. The shining bronze walls that surrounded it served to repel intruders who might seek to liberate the damned, as well as keep those within from escaping. So high and smooth were the walls that it needed no roof to contain it, for no being could climb them. Unlike the rest of the Underworld, no air stirred inside the fortification, nor did any plant life grow. Blackened Earth served as the floor and its only furnishings were those instruments used to punish the inmates, with the exception of a small set of rooms used by the god and his judges.

Scowling, Hades asked, “Where is Tisiphone, why has she abandoned her post?”

“My Lady Persephone arrived earlier this morning and…er…persuaded Tisiphone to join her sisters above ground and torment sinners,” Rhadamanthys explained.

The fortification, which usually resounded with the lamentations of the damned, now bubbled with merriment. Hades took in the sight of the Danaids, fifty in number, who murdered their husbands at their father’s command. Their sentence, to be served for eternity, was that they should carry water in leaky jars from one end of Tartarus to the other. This task, of course, could never be completed, and so the murderous sisters would never rest from their labors. But then Persephone interfered and the effects of her handiwork were plain to see. Instead of toiling, the Danaids danced delightedly in a ring, their jars forgotten on the damp ground where they’d been dropped. Hades waited for the women to take note of his presence and soon heard one shriek, “Aidoneus!” As one, the sisters turned to see the Lord of the Underworld. They did not stare at his grim features for long but took up their jars and sped back to the pool on the far western end of the prison.

Hades continued his inspection, stalking forth purposefully with Rhadamanthys at his side. It wasn’t too long before the god stopped short at the sight of another infamous inhabitant of Tartarus having a very jolly time indeed.

Ixion had been the first mortal to kill within the bonds of kin. Though he committed a heinous crime, Zeus took pity on him and cleansed Ixion of his guilt. But Ixion was not purified of all evil, for he soon developed an obsession with Zeus’ wife, Hera. The Father of the Gods, however, prepared for the mortal’s attempted blasphemy. He fashioned a “Hera” made of clouds and, when Ixion dared to lie with it, the mortal found himself bound, hand and foot, to a gigantic wheel. Zeus took the wheel, with the outlaw thus secured, and hurled it down to the Underworld. It took Ixion a full nine days to arrive at Tartarus, where Hades patiently awaited him. The god affixed the wheel to an enormous spoke, where Ixion was to spend the remainder of eternity. Now, however, Ixion walked free and had somehow managed to string up the wheel. He plucked at this makeshift lyre with such dedication that he did not realize his music making would soon come to an end.

Hades waved a hand, causing the mortal to fly up high into the air, while the other hand waved the wheel back onto its spoke. He allowed Ixion to crash down into the hard ground and was gratified to hear the man’s groans of agony. One more gesture served to throw Ixion’s wrecked body back onto the wheel and affix him to it.

Hades turned to Rhadamanthys. “Where is she?”

“I believe she was headed to the Western end, my Lord. But there is yet more requiring attention, Aidoneus.”

Hades’ nostrils flared and, sparing one final glance to assure himself of Ixion’s renewed captivity, the god and his judge resumed their march. They neared the midpoint of Tartarus when a distant blaze caught their eyes. As one, they broke into a run and did not ease their frenzied pace until they could make out the cause of the fire.

This time not one, but two mortals sat, freed from their torments. Apollo and Artemis had shot down Tityus for the mortal’s attempted rape of their mother, Leto. In Tartarus, two vultures came daily to where Tityus was bound and tore savagely at his liver. But, with the Lady of the Underworld’s assistance, Tityus sat, unbound, and roasted something upon a crudely fashioned spit over a roaring fire. Upon closer inspection, Hades realized it was one of the vultures.

Not far from Tityus sat the other criminal, Tantalus. The man had invited the gods to dine with him, intending to serve up the quartered corpse of his son, whom he’d murdered for this express purpose. Found out only after Demeter unknowingly took a bite of the boy’s shoulder, Tantalus had been placed in a pool of water shaded by a tree bearing luscious fruits. Eternally overcome by both thirst and hunger, Tantalus could not drink of the water in the pool, for it would always evade his lips. And if he reached up for a fruit, so too would the tree’s branches retreat, leaving his hunger to rage. But now the mortal’s fast was broken, for he fed greedily upon the first offering from Tityus’ spit: the other vulture.Hades let out a loud curse and the men looked up to see the King of the Dead towering over them. They immediately dropped their respective vultures and took to their heels. But attempt at escape proved futile as, with a few more waves of his arms, Hades had them back where they belonged.

Resuming his search for Persephone, Hades inquired of Rhadamanthys in clipped tones, “There cannot possibly be any more?”

“Just one more, I think.”

The remainder of the westward trek they made in silence. Just before they reached a large hill, the Danaids scurried past them, leaking helplessly as they ran. Hades smirked at their alacrity, but the sight of his own personal antagonist soon arrested his humor.

Known as one of the craftiest of mortals, King Sisyphus of Corinth escaped Tartarus not once, but twice. The first time had been shortly after Thanatos himself fetched Sisyphus from the Upperworld. The mortal managed to bind Death with the chains intended for him and returned above ground. How Hades burned with resentment when Ares appeared with Sisyphus, ridiculing the Lord of the Underworld for his inability to restrain a mere mortal.

However, while above, Sisyphus had ordered his wife, Merope,
not
to observe the rituals customarily carried out for the dead. Divine law permitted the man to return to his wife and advise her on the appropriate rites but, of course, Sisyphus had no intention of going back to Erebus. Only when Sisyphus died of old age could Hades keep him in his kingdom, and he had reserved a particular torture just for him. Sisyphus’ eternal task was to push a gigantic boulder up a steep hill. Sweating and toiling ceaselessly, he would no sooner reach the peak than the boulder tumbled right back down, forcing Sisyphus to begin his upward struggle time after time after time. But Persephone altered that as well. She’d given the mortal a great big club made of adamant and, instead of pushing the rock, Sisyphus enthusiastically pulverized it.

Hades snatched the club away from the man and swung it over his own immortal head in a wide arc before allowing it to swoop down hard upon Sisyphus’ skull. The sinner collapsed in a heap at Hades’ feet and the god dropped the club, pleased when it rebounded off the ground and struck Sisyphus once again.

Turning to Rhadamanthys, his breath coming in violent huffs, Hades ground out, “Where is she?”

The judge raised his hand and pointed. Hades turned, saw Persephone, and started walking. “Make sure Sisyphus gets back to work when he regains consciousness.”

“Of course, my Lord,” Rhadamanthys said. “But before you confer with my Lady, I beg leave to speak freely.”

The god pivoted and gave the mortal a questioning look.

The judge bowed his thanks. “Aidoneus, I simply wished to tell you that we have all grown fond of August Persephone, Ione, myself, and the others. If I may be so bold, sir…she still has much to learn about the ways of the Underworld, and we believe that with your firm, yet merciful, guidance, she will rise to outshine every other queen in existence, whether on Earth or in the Heavens.”

“I take your meaning, Rhadamanthys,” Hades said with a nod. “And I thank you for your wise counsel.”

The mortal bowed again. “It is my honor to serve you and my Lady, sir.”

Thus the god covered the distance between himself and his wife slowly, that he might gain control over his anger. For he well remembered their first night together and, no matter what she’d done, or how justified he might feel, Hades was determined never to hurt Persephone again. His fear for her safety abated, as it was clear she’d come to no harm at the hands of the murderous Titans. She’d either deliberately kept to the comparatively safe upper level of the prison or hadn’t had time to go all the way down to the pit. Whichever the case, Hades was capable of feeling grateful. He also recalled that she’d acted in a fit of pique, and one brought on by jealousy over him, at that. These thoughts did take the edge off his wrath. As he drew closer, however, it became difficult to sustain his feelings of benevolence, for she regarded him with a look of sheer odium, clearly unrepentant for her misdeeds.