Chapter 4
Chapter
Four
P ersephone
“Is this a literal castle?” Hades’ eyes drop to the finger I’m now pointing down the length of my body to the cobbled floor. His lips hitch with just a hint of a grin, and he nods once. Noc lingers close, his eyes watching.
“Yes.”
“Wow.” I move my hand to the thick black stone banister head that wraps in on itself like the coil of a snake. It is not smooth or polished, but ripples with uneven grooves as though inspired by the cords of a rope. It invites me to take the first step down the long, wide, curving stairs that lines a pillar of stone from which the center is a column of what looks like falling embers. I’ve never seen anything like it ever before in my life. The falling embers remind me of the falling sparks I’d made wishes on outside the Tower of Pluto, from the ring of fire that circled Hades’ Tower.
“I’ve never been in a castle,” I murmur, I think to myself. I’m distracted, captivated by everything.
Despite the darkness of the long corridor we travelled, vines of darkest green, sprouting pearlescent white flowers had crawled through the flame-cast shadows on the walls. Flames danced over obsidian liquid that sat in a shallow cups of burnished gold, bolted to the stone walls by intricately curled handles.
The vines stretched through the flame-lit darkness as though they’d been planted between the cracks in the stone of the wall. Like weeds in a walkway, only enchantingly beautiful. Beneath the vines that crawled, young and thin across the stone are impressions—carvings—of other much larger vines.
Hades sees me gaze at the walls, analyzing the intricacies of the stonework. “Fossils.”
My eyes snap to his. A chill slithers over my bones like the very vines that slither over stone now. “What?”
“Fossils,” he repeats.
I shake my head, lost. “I don’t understand.”
“Evidence of life. Ancient, but never forgotten, life.” His eyes shift to the carvings that cover the stone, smiling softly at the new growth that has sprouted between the antiquated cracks. “But it’s already coming back.”
The chill turns to a shiver that snakes along my spine. I loosen my grip on the banister to step back from the stairs where the stonework of vines and flowers continues, etched, surely, by blade.
He can’t truly mean to tell me these faint lines in the stone are, in fact, fossils. Still, I ask hoarsely, “Coming back?”
Hades’ dark eyes shift to mine. “The Underworld knows you are home.”
Something tickles inside my heart. A flutter of warmth I can’t begin to understand.
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
I think my face may be flushing with the same emotion I feel invading my heart. Or maybe it’s because Hades is looking at me as though he’s trying to see inside me. Noc too, in fact.
“Much of what you know of the myth of Hades and Persephone is true. And much of it has been lost to time.” His voice deepens, pitch dropping as he grows dangerously quiet. “There is much of the myth of us that never made it to the songs which spun the written stories that inspired the tales humanity studies today. For our story transpired, mostly, here in the Underworld. The living realm was not privy to the events which unfolded here, and much is speculation.”
“Oh…” I don’t know why I feel so breathless. So transfixed by his words, craving more.
He steps closer, that scent of woodsmoke and sin invade my senses to swirl in my mind, darkening my thoughts with a need I cannot name. I lean closer, desperate for more. More of him. His scent. His words.
More of this beautiful, fantastical tale he weaves.
“You, Persephone, are the Goddess of Spring and Fertility,” he tells me bluntly a second time. As though this time it might resonate. I blush, burned by an overwhelming feeling of inadequacy.
But, oh, how I wish it were true.
He speaks again. “You birthed life within the Underworld. In the cracks between stone, vines pushed, and flowers sprouted. Stars appeared in the obsidian sky, lit up by the light of the moons, and brushstrokes of navy bloomed from their glow of light— of life . Cities rose from the ash that covered the land, and souls thrived. Gardens flourished, mountains glittered, veined by the same stars that glitter in the sky. Even the sea glowed, the frothy tips of the waves shimmering iridescent.”
“And for the first time in the creation of me, a God who knew only horror and torment, ripped apart and devoured by my own father to live centuries in the prison of his belly with my siblings, only to be spilled back into a realm under siege of Gods and Titans, I fought. I was rewarded for my efforts with a realm of darkness and despair. Of torment and terror. For centuries, I existed alone and hated. Feared, my name scarcely spoken on the tongues of man. I was rejected and disrespected, and one day I saw a young Goddess in a garden of life. I tasted the purest desire to possess all that she was for my own. I acted. I stole her. I stole you into the realm of darkness and torment.”
I don’t realize that he’s stepped into me, stepping us back slowly, until my back is pressed into the wall at the top of the stairs. Hades is so close, his big body caging mine against the stone, that with every deep breath I breathe, my breasts brush his chest.
“Hades.” I can say nothing but his name. My thoughts are shattered by the twisting vines of emotions that smother the flames in his eyes. Regret. Self-loathing. Hope .
I don’t understand.
I want to understand .
“I stole you and ravaged you. I claimed all of you, against the tears that fell and the pleas you begged.” My breaths have begun to race. Awareness prickles my skin. Under the cage of my breast, my heart thunders. Hate coats his words. “I stole your innocence and tasted your blood, your cries. In my belly, your blood bloomed a life inside of me that hadn’t existed since before Cronus devoured me. Perhaps it never existed at all. But after you—I was born again, new. I became not only the God of Death, but the God of After life .”
His whispered breath is a kiss of heat against my trembling lips.
“You birthed life into darkness because you carry inside you, Goddess of Spring and Fertility, the light of all life.” I flinch only slightly at the feel of something soft caressing the skin of my cheek, but I can’t take my eyes off the man—the God—before me. He laughs, but it’s lacking humor. He breathes, “Even now, the realm comes alive in your presence.” His hand lifts to thumb the flower that caresses my skin. The small pearlescent white petals from the life that sprouts from the vines in the wall. His voice is so soft, so low, I nearly don’t hear him when he says, “You brought so much to the Underworld—into a realm untouched by life—and in it you created living abundance. How I missed the light before, how I was so blind—” His eyes drift over mine. “I will never know.”
The words feel stuck in my throat, but somehow, I manage, “What light?”
“The light of all life. The light that breaks through the gate of your soul to shine through your eyes.” His sweep my face, as though he’s searching for that very light now.
I have no idea what he’s talking about.
“I’m so confused.”
“As am I,” Hades confuses me more by agreeing. “I can only hope that in time it all becomes clear.”