That Fatal Kiss (26 page)

“Then you are not jealous?”

“Not as long as she keeps her distance.” Persephone endured Hecate’s chortle benignly. “I do not envy others what is theirs and I expect that they will leave what is mine well enough alone.”

“Hmmm, you’re getting possessive now,” Hecate said. “Hades must be thrilled.”

“I expect I have thrilled him, yes.”

“And has his
magnificence
aided you in reaching a verdict?”

At the reminder of her need to choose, Persephone lost her good humor. “Sadly, no. That is to say, I am happy to find we are compatible in that way.” She ignored the other’s snicker. “And I am developing an understanding of his character. He has both good and bad qualities, as do we all—”

“Speak for yourself.”

“—and I feel that, where our natures differ, we complement one another very well.”

“Then why are you undecided?”

“I don’t know.” Persephone shrugged. “But something does prevent me from binding myself to him.”

They trotted along in relative silence for a bit until Hecate said, “Well, you have only known him for the span of a week, hardly enough time in which to make an irrevocable decision.”

“Indeed,” Persephone said. “But I have not the leisure of time, as we both know. I must soon return to my mother, once she’s located me, and then I shall have to be ready to either plead for freedom or proper marriage.”

Echoing one of Persephone’s earlier thoughts, Hecate said, “I cannot even begin to imagine what Demeter will say if you tell her you wish to be Hades’ wife.”

“Neither can I,” Persephone admitted with a sigh. “She was being so difficult about my search for a mate when I was above ground that I cannot think she’ll take kindly to my preferring one whose abode lies within the depths of the Underworld.” She thought back to her conversation with Hades, regarding Demeter’s true motives for prolonging her daughter’s search for a husband. If she and Hades were correct in their suspicions, then her mother was sure to fly into a rage if Persephone told her she wished to remain with the Lord of the Underworld. She nearly touched upon the matter with Hecate but realized it had been difficult enough to face the matter with only Hades present. She trusted the Witch Goddess, but she was not up to the task of defending Demeter against Hecate’s sharp tongue. Instead, she contented herself with saying, “But in truth, it does anger me to have to worry about what she will say or think. I do love my mother, very dearly, but she meddles in matters where she ought to show reticence.”

“She isn’t the first mother to do so, and certainly won’t be the last,” Hecate observed as they neared the western gate of the palace. “I expect you’ll be the same. If not worse.”

“I appreciate your confidence in my as yet untried parenting skills,” Persephone said. She slowed Zephyr to another stop and leaned over further. “Although, if Hades’ enthusiasm for coupling does not soon waver, I feel I may be employing those skills sooner rather than later.” As Hecate chuckled, Persephone cast a critical glance toward the palace, then gave the other goddess a challenging look. “But seeing as I am not yet hampered by pregnancy, what say you to a race?”

“That sounds like fine sport. Shall we bear east, toward Etna?”

Persephone remembered the strange waves of heated winds and deep rumblings she’d experienced in the region below the mountain. She’d meant to ask Hecate about the area, but kept forgetting. And now, she was suddenly afraid to. “I think not. The palace?”

Hecate’s response was to spur her horse into a full gallop, to Persephone’s mock-outrage. The younger goddess dug in her heels and set Zephyr off, determined to overtake her unscrupulous companion.

“BUT I SIMPLY
cannot return to my Mistress now!” the nymph, whose name was Minthe, argued. She attempted to run back inside the palace once they reached the main portal, but Hades just as determinedly meant to ascertain her speedy departure.

“I wish I could say you have my sympathies,” he said, pushing her forward, “but you do not. Now go.”

Minthe looked back up at the god a bit fearfully, then considered Aphrodite’s certain displeasure if she were to return so soon and decided that it would not do to fail in this particular seduction. She pretended to resign herself to Hades’ dismissal. “Very well. But before I do, I must tell you that my mistress is sure to be vexed with me for failing in my mission.”

Resolute, Hades said, “Then perhaps you ought to find yourself another mistress.” He turned to leave her only to be taken by surprise when she grasped his arm and swung him back around.

Minthe leapt onto him, causing him to reach up reflexively. She wrapped her arms tightly around his shoulders. “But I would far prefer a new
master
,” she purred, clenching her legs around his waist and bringing his head down until their lips met.

HECATE ROUNDED THE
western corner of the palace gates only to screech to a halt, her horse whinnying a protest at the sudden stop. She stared at the tableau before her in shock as the horse jostled back and forth. Persephone, close behind, swerved wildly to avoid collision with the Witch Goddess. She sought to bring Zephyr under control as the horse reared angrily, wondering what had frozen Hecate in her tracks, then followed the white-haired goddess’ stare. At the sight of Hades embracing and kissing another, Persephone felt her heart fall into her feet, while an alarm seemed to ring in her ears. Nausea arose within her and she clenched her legs tightly about Zephyr to keep from sliding off the horse and into a dead faint on the ground. She could not believe he had betrayed her already, did not want to believe it, but the evidence could not be ignored. She did not stop to ponder what she might do, for a violent anger swelled and spread, flushing her cheeks, and she did not permit herself to think or feel anything else. Her face twisted into a hard mask of rage and her arm swung in a wide arc. The dewy nymph disappeared. However, on the ground near Hades’ feet, there now grew a small green plant.

Hades, amazed first by the unsolicited kiss and then by its giver’s sudden metamorphosis, looked up to find his wife glaring down at him with undisguised contempt. He wished to speak but could not articulate his innocence in the face of her wrath. The god reached a hand to her, wordlessly entreating her to let him explain, but she could not welcome the advance. She turned Zephyr away and took off. Hades looked to Hecate for assistance, but the Witch shook her head at him forbiddingly before following Persephone.

The Host of Many stared after them, stupefied, before clapping for a servant and ordering Thunder made ready to ride again. Moments later, he charged after them, hoping he could quickly rectify the damage. But Hecate, knowing he would not be able to leave Persephone well enough alone, thwarted him. She cast a spell to make both Persephone and herself invisible and inaudible so that, though he rode just behind them, he was insensible of their presence. When they reached the great fork in the road, Persephone and Hecate veered to the left, while Hades took the road to the right, toward the Witch’s cavern, and only when she was sure that he was long gone did Persephone slow her horse. She slid off Zephyr, weeping bitterly, and stumbled over to Hecate, who had also dismounted. She fell into the white-haired goddess’ open arms and allowed her grief to flow.

Eventually, Persephone could speak. “Hecate, go. Go now, to Demeter, and tell her where I am. I want to go home. Please, go now.”

“Are you certain?”

“I cannot remain here longer. If his devotion is such that it is extinguished after trifling with me, then I must leave. I would rather be perpetually chaste then have to endure his faithlessness. Yes, I am certain, Hecate, please!”

“Do you not wish to speak with him first?”

“No! No, I cannot, I will not! To what purpose? So that he may tell me what is agonizingly clear, that he is not satisfied with his choice of bride? No, I have been lowered enough to last me an eternity, I must go back home as soon as can be arranged.”

“Persephone, listen. You are upset—”

“Zeus’ beard, would you not be as well?” Persephone said, tears running down her face. She wiped them away furiously with the back of her hand.

“You know I would. But perhaps matters are not as they appear—”

“Holy Hestia, how else could that embrace have been interpreted?”

“I don’t know,” the Witch replied after a pause. She eyed Persephone sympathetically. “My darling girl, I will go to your mother, but not just yet.” She raised her voice to speak over the other’s protestations. “I will wait until tomorrow night, and if you still feel the same way, send a servant with a message and I shall go to Demeter the following morning.”

“I cannot think why you feel the need to wait,” Persephone snapped.

“I think it prudent because I have known Hades longer than you have and I find it incredible that he should act so deplorably,” Hecate said. “I cannot excuse bad behavior, even in those whom I call friends, but I do not believe that we have all of the facts. I think you should spend this evening with me, get over your shock, and then go to him in the morning and give him a chance to explain. If he is unable to provide you with reason to remain, send a servant to inform me and I will go to Olympus the next day. But I will not go until you have spoken with him.”

“I see that your loyalties are divided on this matter.”

“I am steadfast in my regard for you, as I am in my regard for Hades. I do not wish to put one above the other. I only wish to serve you both as well as I am able.” Hecate gave her head a thoughtful scratch. “Besides, I simply don’t believe it possible for him to be a…a cheat.”

Persephone snorted. “Oh, don’t you?”

“No, I don’t,” the Witch repeated firmly. “He says what he means, and he keeps his promises, by word and by deed.”

“And how exactly does that prove his fidelity?”

“Hades braved a voyage above ground, into a world he utterly despises, to have you. He could not feign such deep feeling for you, why would he?”

The younger goddess gave a violent shake of her head. “That he did so merely confirms that he’s given to acting on impulse, which is exactly what we caught him at just now.”

“But don’t you see, Persephone? Hades committed himself to you for eternity when he claimed you for his bride—you think he did that on
impulse
?”

“I think Hades sees something he wants and takes it,” Persephone bit out, going to her horse. She willed a brush into her hand and ran it through Zephyr’s flaxen mane a few times before letting out a teary gasp and laying her forehead against the horse’s side. “Please, Hecate. I can’t bear this. I want my mother.”

The white-haired goddess walked over to Persephone and laid a hand on her shoulder. “I hate to see you so unhappy. But I feel that you’re making yourself more miserable than you need be, and that a quick word with Hades would do away with all of your suffering. And his.” Hecate patted the other goddess’ back as she cried. “Only take my advice and see where it leads you, Persephone.”

Persephone straightened and rubbed the tears from her face. “Very well. I will speak with him tomorrow.” But this was said only to appease the Witch, as Persephone was determined to send a servant to Hecate come nightfall the following day. And even as her heart shattered, it formed a plan to avenge itself against its tormenter.