That Fatal Kiss (31 page)

Hades jumped up in his bed, rivers of sweat running along his body. Now wide awake, Hades felt his terror increase in bounds when he realized he was, once again, alone. He tore off the bedclothes and shouted for Ione. By the time he opened the chamber door, she stood there, poised to knock.

“Where is she?” he shouted.

Ione took a breath. “My Lord, please, be at peace,” she said, casting her eyes down to the floor to avoid the sight of the god’s nudity. “All is well.”

The maid’s humble demeanor brought down Hades’ temper and he managed in more rational tones, “Where is she, Ione?”

“My Lady Persephone said to tell you not to worry if you awoke before she returned,” Ione explained to her toes. “She said she simply wished to make herself useful and would soon be back at your side.”

“Make herself useful? How?”

The maid shook her head and shrugged. “That I cannot say, Aidoneus, as my Lady did not inform me of her exact plans.”

The god was about to dismiss her when it occurred to him that something was different about the woman. “Your stutter’s gone.”

Ione gave a broad smile. “Thanks to my Lady.” At Hades’ nod, she left.

Hades quickly dressed and made for the throne room. He would find Persephone through the Viewing Mirror and, if all was truly well, await her return. Or, at least, he would try to await her return.

As the god went through the palace’s entry hall, he spotted Rhadamanthys, bearing some scrolls and preparing to leave. “Have you seen my wife?”

“Yes, Lord. I just passed my Lady as I took my morning walk along the bank of the Styx,” the judge replied.

“Bleeding Uranus, whatever can she be doing so far away from the palace?” A horrible thought struck Hades. “She wasn’t headed east?”

“No, Aidoneus.”

Not really thinking it possible but unable to think of any other reason for Persephone’s absence, he asked. “Has there been any more…trouble?”

“None, Lord. All is well.”

“So I’ve heard,” Hades mumbled, laying his hands on his hips and eyeing the judge. “Why did she go to the Styx?”

“I regret that I don’t know, sir,” the judge said. “But she did ask me to inform you not to worry, that she would soon be back—”

“At my side, yes,” Hades finished along with Rhadamanthys. “You’re certain Persephone hasn’t returned to Tartarus?”

“Not certain, no, as I have not yet been there myself. I was just gathering together the lists of those awaiting trial today when we came across one another, Lord. But I believe Tisiphone has been guarding the gates of Tartarus today, she could probably provide further intelligence of events in the prison. Or perhaps…”

“Yes, perhaps…?”

“...perhaps a bit of faith in August Persephone would not go amiss,” the judge finished, his expression as bland as goat’s milk.

The god regarded his judge with some amazement before saying, “Careful, Judge, that one bordered on impertinence.”

The judge inclined his head respectfully. “My apologies, Aidoneus.”

Hades gave a dismissive wave of his hand. “Be on your way, then. But…if you should see my wife again, tell her I require her presence in the throne room at once.” And with that, the god left Rhadamanthys and rushed to locate Persephone through the Viewing Mirror.

But as it had failed him before, the Mirror would not reveal her. He sought Hecate next, but she too was out of its reach. Whatever charm the Witch had worked to keep them hidden must still be in place, Hades reasoned uneasily. Aware that he was succumbing to panic but unable to stop himself, the god called for Tisiphone and within moments the beautiful Fury stood before him.

“Have you seen my wife?” Hades asked, the words laced with impatience.

“Not today,” Tisiphone answered.

“And all’s well in Tartarus?”

A small smile raised the corners of her pale lips. “That would depend upon one’s point of view.”

Hades registered but could not fully appreciate the joke. Unable to curb his agitation, he began to pace the chamber, forgetting the Fury’s presence entirely.

“Not that you’ve asked me,” Tisiphone said unexpectedly, “but I quite like your queen.”

Surprised by the overture, Hades quit pacing. “As do I.”

“I trust you’ve made amends for having taken her without her consent?”

The god’s eyebrows flew. “You dare, Tisiphone?”

“I always have,” Tisiphone said, undeterred by his severe expression. “For, though I serve a role in your kingdom, and I serve the spirit of Justice, I do not serve
you
.” Her eyes gleaming, she waited for him to absorb her words before she tacked on, “Nephew.”

The reminder, though unnecessary, did help Hades control his tongue. He reflected on what she’d asked of him and finally answered, “If I have not exactly
made amends
, at least I have corrected my trajectory in the course of our relations.”

“Really? Does your wife regard her continued captivity in the same light?”

“Forgive me, Aunt, as I must contradict you,” he said in completely unapologetic tones. “Persephone is free to roam as she will throughout the Underworld.”

“Yet, not beyond it.”

Checked again, Hades’ voice lost its edge. “No, not beyond it,” he agreed quietly.

“I wonder,” Tisiphone said, “how you will proceed if Persephone chooses you. Will you allow her periodic respite from this shadowy realm or must she endure it evermore?”

Hades frowned darkly. “If she chooses me, why would she then wish to leave me?”

“Not
you
, this
place
,” the goddess snapped. “If you loved her, you would consider
her
good, rather than your own.” At his look of incomprehension, she went on, “Don’t you know your wife by now? If she chooses you, she will never
leave you
—but she needs contact with
everyone
she loves: her mother, her sisters, her friends. If you truly love her, you won’t keep her from them. Your selfishness and fears will make prisoners of you both if you do not take yourself in hand, Nephew.”

Mindful of the respect due his aunt, Hades tempered the response he wished to make to her stinging assessment. He took a turn about the chamber, then stopped short as Persephone suddenly materialized next to the Fury. His heart lurched and it took every ounce of self-control to keep from racing to her and sweeping her up in his arms.

“Rhadamanthys said you needed me immediately,” Persephone said, her face grave. “Is something wrong?”

Hades waited for his breath to slow before saying, “Nothing is wrong. But I have an important matter to discuss with you.” Then, with a look that bore more command than question, he said to the Fury, “Weren’t you were just leaving?”

With an ironic twist of her lips, Tisiphone nodded. She turned to Persephone and, surprising both the youthful goddess and Hades, enveloped her in a warm embrace. “My dear,” she said, “you’ve learned so much in your short time here.” Pulling away from her, the Fury gave Persephone a meaningful look. “Remember it.”

Hades had no idea what to make of Tisiphone’s words, but his wife apparently did. Persephone kissed the Fury’s cheek and said, “I certainly shall.”

Tisiphone shot Hades a dark look, saying, “And you as well.” Then, with a bow for them both, she faded from sight.

Turning to Hades, Persephone asked, “What is it you wished to discuss with me?”

Now that she stood before him, Hades felt a fool for having summoned her. Nevertheless, he ascended his throne and stared down at her, wishing her to feel the seriousness of what he was about to impart. “Persephone…I do not want you to take this for a rebuke…”

A slight smile played upon her solemn features. “But it is one.”

“No,” he said firmly. “It is not a rebuke but a…a request.”

“Yes, Aidoneus?”

He suspected that her use of his title was her gentle way of teasing him. “I find myself…disturbed when I awake and you are not with me. I would prefer that you wait and tell me yourself of any plans you make which will take you away from…the palace.” His regard intense, he asked, “Do you understand?”

Her eyes sparkled at him as she replied, “I believe I do. I am sorry to have caused you any discomfort. That was not at all my intent.”

“I didn’t think it was,” he said, sinking back into his throne. “Would you be so kind as to share with me what you’ve been about this morning?”

“I would,” Persephone said. Seeing that the bench which recently confined her was still in the throne room, she walked over to it. “If I take my ease upon this bench, I trust you’ll allow me to rise from it at my leisure, this time?”

As amused as he was chagrined, Hades nodded. He watched her stretch herself out on the bench until she was comfortable, fighting the urge to inquire why she would not take her throne instead and thus be closer to him.

“As you already know,” Persephone said, crossing one dainty ankle over the other, “I awoke before you did. I admit, it was most pleasurable to lie next to you and rock along with the gentle vibrations of your snores—”

“I? Snore?”

“—and I thought I would give in to the cozy feel of our bed and go back to sleep, only I could not. Instead, I contemplated…recent events in which I was…involved.”

“Do you mean,” said Hades, smiling to take the bite out of the words, “the mess you made of Tartarus?”

“Yes, that’s what I meant,” Persephone said, a faint blush tingeing her cheeks. “I expressed my regret to you last night but this morning I could not evade the thought that I must redress the balance, somehow. Also, I am accustomed to being of assistance to my mother as she carries out her duties and strongly felt that I should make myself useful here as well.”

Valiantly subduing his trepidation, Hades asked, “And how did you resolve to achieve your aims?”

“Well,” she began, fixing her gaze on a torch in the corner of the room, “I thought about the day I went to comfort Eurydice, and from there I considered the condition of the shades newly arrived in the Underworld. Some knew they were dying, others did not, but all were in varying states of distress at finding themselves torn away from the lives they’d known.” Persephone hesitated, then added, “I don’t mean that as a slight against you, Hades.”

“I understand. Please, continue.”

“When I first arrived, the shades unnerved me,” Persephone said. “I felt their anguish and confusion, so strongly, I couldn’t get far enough away from them. Then, this morning, I realized how selfish I was being.”

“Hardly that, my dear,” Hades said. “Your reaction to the shades is a natural one. You don’t see Hecate, or Tisiphone, or even me keeping them company in the asphodel.”

“No, but then you three have other duties to fulfill,” she said. “You know your responsibilities and you carry them out, serving the greater good. With the exception of comforting Eurydice, what good have I done?”

“You’ve done
me
a great deal of good, Kore.”

Persephone grinned at that, though she would not face him. “Apart from my extremely enjoyable duties as your wife, I mean?” Growing serious again, she said, “The truth is, I didn’t know what contribution I could make, or what service I could provide. And as all these thoughts rioted around in my head this morning, I remembered something you said to me once—that you chose me, in part, for my compassion and kindness. You said that I bring love and light to everyone I touch. If all of this is true, well…who could be in greater need of love and light than the newly deceased?”

Hades studied her profile, pondering again why she felt the need to maintain distance between them. “Thus you propose…?”

“I wish to go to the shades when they arrive, every morning and every night, and provide them with whatever comfort I can.”

The Host of Many shifted in his throne, uncomfortably aware that the only fault he could find with her plan was the possibility of it inconveniencing him by keeping her away from the palace when he might want her. “That’s most generous of you, Persephone.”

“Though you don’t sound very pleased.”

He felt certain he didn’t look pleased either, only as she was still turned away from him, she’d never know it. “It’s not that I’m displeased, it’s merely…I worry you may find ministering to the multitudes of the dead, twice daily, rather…overwhelming.”

“And so I did,” Persephone acknowledged, “as that’s how I occupied myself until I met with Rhadamanthys and he said you needed me. Yes, it proved overpowering, even heartbreaking. And yet, rewarding. When I left them, I felt…worthy of my title, worthy of being your queen. And, if I’m being completely honest, exhausted. Still…it feels the right thing for me to do. I hope…I hope you will have no objection to it.”

Hades sighed inwardly. “If it pleases you, how can I?”

Persephone arose from the bench, crossed over to Hades, and sat on his lap. His arms closed around her even as she whispered her thanks against his lips and kissed him.

Her lips so soft and yielding, her tongue delightfully warm and supple, it was very reluctantly that Hades broke the kiss and said, “What else do you need to tell me, Kore?”

Her eyes widened. “What makes you think—?”

“I feel it,” he said, “in my heart. I feel your uneasiness and I don’t like it. However disagreeable the matter, it must not be allowed to rule us from the darkness of secrecy.” Hades kissed her lips, her face, and whispered, “You can tell me anything.”

“I wish you felt the same,” Hades was stunned to hear Persephone whisper back. He pulled back to look at her, then frowned as she buried her face in his chest. “That you don’t is my own fault, I think.” Without looking at him, she tapped his chest, saying, “Let me go, Hades.”

“No. Explain yourself.”

He felt the rise and fall of her chest as she inhaled deeply. “Hades. Please. I will explain, only allow me to take my throne.”

Every instinct protested against releasing Persephone, but Tisiphone’s words echoed in his mind. Hades lowered his arms and watched her take the few steps over to her ivory throne and seat herself. He watched her shift around, first laying her arms on the arms of the throne, then resting her elbows on her knees, and finally leaning back and covering her face with her hands.