Chapter Four
Hecate
“Why are you here?” The accusation flies from my mouth before I can think better of it. Even if I had, I’m not sure I would choose differently. I want, no need, to know. To hear it directly from him, even if I know the answer will bring me nothing but pain.
Foolish, foolish goddess. This is why I give myself to no one. Even the temptation leads me to trust the very people I shouldn’t.
“Things have changed,” Hermes says carefully, speaking slowly as he chooses his words.
Not nearly as glib and teasing as he’d been on the way here.
“Demeter will doom Gaia to a slow death. Life cannot continue in a world of eternal ice. Plants cannot grow, harvests cannot be sown or reaped. It is untenable.”
Hades frowns, but has no immediate response.
I’m not nearly so silent. “There is an immediate solution to this problem,” I point out.
“There is,” Hermes agrees. “Zeus, however, does not wish to go back on his agreement with you, Hades; he wishes to come to some accord.”
“Simple. I shall let Persephone return to her mother on Gaia.” He claps his hand, the sound echoing through the empty hall as we all stare at him.
Silence lingers after, waiting for the catch. No one believes for a moment he will let go so easily. Not even Persephone, who quivers in her chair. I rest my hand on her shoulder, stilling her.
“Just like that?” I ask when the silence becomes unbearable. The shark-like, triumphant grin he gives me in return tells me I’ve played into his hand, but Hades’ love of theatrics is not so shocking as he likes to believe. “With no other expectation?”
“You think so little of me, Hecate. I’m not a monster, to separate mother and daughter like so many others would. I’ll let her return to Gaia, so she might give Demeter a proper farewell.”
“Unacceptable!” While I expected no less from him, I snarl anyway, magic coiling up from the ground to wrap around me like ribbons. It would do no good to use it to strangle Hades, save for some momentary pleasure, but the urge is there nonetheless.
I’m not the sort for impulsive action, but I also thought I was not the sort for making stupid choices with gods, so perhaps I’m wrong. It’s a hypothesis I’m willing to test.
Better than disappointing Demeter. If I return and have to tell her that her only daughter cannot come home, I cannot imagine what I might do. Cannot imagine the goddess I might become.
“You make it sound like it’s my decision.” Hades tells me, far too patient in the face of my growing fury. “You know the rules of this place. Consuming the food of the dead binds you to this place. Persephone must return. There is no other way.”
“What did you eat, sister?” Hermes speaks up before the scream eking its way up my throat can escape.
Persephone jumps under my hand. She blinks up at Hermes like a sleepy cat before saying, “Pomegranate seeds.”
Pomegranate seeds. I let out a little hiss of frustration. Such a small thing. To hinge eternity on it seems too much too overwhelming. “A blessing you’re down here,” I tell Hades, “Demeter would rip you limb from limb and let the Four Winds carry you away if she could get her hands on you.”
Hades clears his throat and shrugs, but I can see the discomforted fidget. Wary enough of his older sister to fear her wrath but not enough to keep him from stealing her precious daughter.
“How many seeds?” Hermes asks, not bothering to insert himself in mine and Hades’ sniping.
“Oh,” Persephone murmurs and looks down at her hand, stained red from the seeds. “Not many. Six perhaps?”
Hermes nods while my anger threatens to boil over anew. It’s useless, and I know it. The rules of the Underworld are complex, and while Hades can bend them where he chooses, not even he can break them.
Something he is happy to remind me of if the smug look on his face is any indication.
“Then I have a compromise,” Hermes goes on.
Hades glares at him. “And why should I compromise at all? We are wed. It is done. Persephone is my queen.”
“Does she even wish to be?” I snap and find myself on the receiving end of the Lord of the Underworld’s stare.
“Watch yourself, Bright One. You enjoy your status on my largesse.”
“Threaten her again,” Hermes interrupts, his voice cool, almost icy, and it sends a shiver down my spine. “And I’ll cut you down and scatter the pieces myself.”
Silence in the room again. I cannot breathe. He would threaten his elder? The lord of this realm, who could easily inflict suffering on him I can’t even imagine, all for me?
I don’t know how to reconcile the teasing youth, the cunning manipulator, and now this brave protector. This is why I don’t seek out companionship, affection. The complication it brings swirls like dark eddies in my chest, and I want to press my hand there, to ease the ache they cause.
When I’m quite sure only he can.
“Brave words” Hades, replies. “Hecate doesn’t need protection. You on the other hand...”
Hermes shrugs, an elegant move that draws my eyes to his shoulders. The beautiful line of them, the breadth, as wide as the Aegean. “The way I see things, you need me, Hades. You need this compromise.”
“And why is that?” Hades releases Persephone for the first time, and she sags in her chair like a puppet with cut strings. Her gaze follows Hades as he rises from his chair to face Hermes head on.
Hermes smirks at me, winks. My cheeks flush hot all over again.
Truly foolish.
“Because if Demeter continues, and the world stays in eternal winter, everyone on Gaia will die. The Underworld will be overrun in a matter of months. Every dying creature, every shade, every soul. Would you be able to handle them all at once?”
The look on Hades’ face, as though he’d swallowed a lemon, speaks the truth before he opens his mouth. “And yet I have no queen if I allow her to return.”
“And that is why I say compromise,” Hermes explains as though speaking to a small child. It is a wonder Hades doesn’t strike him down for the condescension. “Persephone is your wife, and she has eaten the food of the dead. She cannot stay on Gaia forever.”
Persephone lets out a cry. “If I cannot see my mother again, I will die,” she wails as she throws her hands up. Hades catches one, holding it tightly. He goes to his knee besides the chair and stares at her. “And your husband? What of him?”
So much pressure on a maiden goddess, but Persephone squares her shoulders the tears in her eyes drying, bearing it like the queen Hades insists she is. She doesn’t look at Hades, though I don’t miss the way she squeezes his hand in return. “What is your compromise, brother?”
Hermes bows his head in her direction. “You ate six seeds, so six months of each year you will remain here as wife and queen of this place. The other six, you will spend on Gaia with your mother.”
“Demeter will likely plunge the world in winter when she’s gone,” I point out, unable to let the matter rest, even as I sense myself losing.
Hermes has slid in and with the skill of a master statesman, found a solution that will both please and leave no one happy.
And it absolves Zeus and Hades of all wrong doing.
I hate it.
“She might,” Hermes agrees. He shifts his stance, leaning in my direction, as though he might reach across the banquet table for me.
I take a step back, needing the distance even with the barrier between us, but my stomach twists as his face falls.
“But what is life without death? And death without rebirth?”
He’s right, of course. There’s a balance, a symmetry to his proposal. One I can’t argue. It’s the best we’ll find, though I dread trying to convince Demeter of it.
Hades is still staring at Persephone. “Will that make you happy? To spend half the year with your mother?”
When she nods, a tiny, tremulous thing, Hades sighs. He kisses the back of her hand. “Then so be it. You will return to your mother for the time being.”
He rises once more. For a god who had been forced to bend, he is surprisingly unfazed by the turn of events. He draws Persephone to her feet and—in a display I am sure is more for my benefit than Persephone’s—kisses her for us all to see.
Then he faces me, his mouth hardening into a thin line. “You have chosen Olympians over your kind again, Hecate.”
“I chose a grieving mother over a selfish god—”
“And allowed Zeus his schemes as a result,” Hades continues as though I haven’t spoken.
“I’m of a mind to do something about it.
” He strokes his hand down Persephone’s back, and the maiden blushes.
“Since you are so concerned over Persephone’s well being, you shall be her handmaiden when she is here in the Underworld.
All others duties will come second to her needs. ”
A decree if I ever heard one, and not something I can argue. I grit my teeth. I am the goddess of magic. I watch over the ghosts, the shades, the souls lost on Gaia in need of a way to their final resting place. I do not have time to mind Persephone.
And yet, it is exactly what I’ve been doing.
“As you command.” No doubt, Demeter will be pleased. No more Olympians. No more mess. I tangle myself up with them, and I regret it every time.
Without thinking, my gaze slides to Hermes. He claps his hands, a smile sliding across his face. “Wonderful. We are in accord then.”
“The sooner you are gone from my presence, the sooner that will be true,” Hades replies, at the end of his patience.
“I will not take up too much more of your time,” Hermes promises. “I’ll escort Persephone back to her mother with Hecate, and you will be free of us. But first…” He trails off, pouring himself a cup of wine. “The food of the dead is it?”
“Hermes!” I fling my magic, trying to knock the cup from his hands, but it’s too late. He tips it back and downs the wine at a gulp, letting the empty cup clatter back at the table.
Hades stares at him, nonplussed. “And what do you hope to achieve, son of Zeus? I’m not marrying you.”
Chuckling, as though Hades made some terribly funny joke and he hadn’t bound himself to the Underworld, Hermes says, “It is my father’s wish that I be able to be his messenger in full.
I need to be able to open the paths here myself, as much as today’s escort was enjoyable.
” He grins and winks in my direction, and I wonder if I might be able to throttle him instead.
So this was his aim. Likely, it was Zeus’ plan all along. Dangling his daughter like bait, knowing Demeter would come for her. All of it a ploy to give him a foothold into a world he’d been previously unable to reach. It’s brilliant from a distance. Laid out in an elegant scheme.
But up close, it’s as sharp as knife in my back. I’d been made a pawn, all because my heart bleeds ichor over the suffering of others.
I never should have gone to Zeus. I should have come here myself and argued for Persephone myself. I certainly never should have let Hermes be my companion.
Hades nods, as though the madness spilling from Hermes’ mouth makes perfect sense.
“Of course. Why else would he send you here, when Hecate is such a willing advocate.” Hades has a way of putting too fine a point of things.
“Fine, you may share responsibilities with Hecate and guide the dead here if you wish a place here so badly.”
Hermes bows. “I am grateful, Uncle.”
“Go. Before I change my mind,” he snarls at us before turning to Persephone. For her, he leans in close, cupping her face in his hands, and whatever words he has for her are not for our ears.
When he releases her, stumbles away on coltish legs. I take her arm, giving a short bow to Hades before escorting Persephone from the hall. The sooner we leave, the sooner I can put this mess behind me. Forget Hermes.
“Is mother really waiting for me?” Persephone asks as soon as we’re out of ear shot.
“The whole world is waiting for you.”
Footsteps clap in a quick staccato, and I know without looking Hermes is catching up with us. I draw Persephone a little closer to me, needing the support.
“Hecate,” he calls, sliding up next to us. To his credit, he doesn’t look surprised, doesn’t feign innocence. “I know you’re angry.”
“I’m not. I should have known exactly what I was getting into. Thank you, for reminding me of the lesson.”
“There’s no lesson.” He reaches for me, but I dance away from him, dragging Persephone with me. “Please. I can explain.”
“There’s no explanation required. You made things quite clear.” Clearer than I ever wanted them to be. I draw in a sharp breath. “I trust you can find your way back to Gaia on your own. You no longer need me, Messenger.”
I turn away from him. Persephone hurries along my side, glancing up at me with wide eyes, but I ignore her, instead opening a path back to Gaia. At least I can do one thing I set out to do and return a daughter to her mother, even if not exactly as she wanted.
For the rest, I was done with dreaming.