Persephone
Chapter forty-nine
For the second time in as many days, I found Hades alone.
I tucked myself in close to the spiraled column that towered above.
Here amongst the shadows moving without master, I could see the entire throne and the space before it unperceived.
To observe, I told myself quickly, ignoring the rush that shot through my veins at seeing him so animatedly.
Up on his raised black obelisk throne, feet hidden amidst a thick fog that refracted the fire light from the braziers above, he scowled at the stone below.
Deep, coiling shadows tangled with flickering muted light in the most eerie of ways, making Hades look exactly as my mother described him. Cruel. Twisted. Menacing.
If you quote Demeter every time you look at me or a new situation, you’ll never know what you think.
I shoved those fucking words back and sealed them beneath a trapdoor in my mind and sat on it, refusing to acknowledge it or the discomfort they wrought.
Hades stared intently as the double doors at the other end of the hall opened and a shade in chains was shoved down to his skinned, dirty knees before his throne.
Something flickered in the eyes of the god of the dead as the shade growled its discontent.
I stilled. This shade was different than the ones Hecate had shown me.
They were gentle. Easy as a breeze. This shade was pure, unfiltered anger, seething and barring his teeth at every being he could.
Two of the three judges of the Underworld strolled behind them, barely casting a glance at the nymphs struggling to contain the chains of the shade.
It was striking how mortals had captured them almost perfectly.
I marveled, recognizing Rhadamanthus almost immediately with his long salt and pepper beard and milk-white eyes.
But it was Minos that spoke, his voice more melodious than I would have anticipated.
“The council is split, Lord Hades. His punishment is dolled to you.”
I pondered that. They have the ability to see and weigh each soul and judge in turn. What atrocity must this soul have done for the judges to not agree on a punishment?
Hades leaned forward, his bident appearing readily in his hands from seemingly nothing but shadow. It glinted in the light as if it too glared at the hostile shade, forcing to its knees.
“What was his crime?” The Lord of the Underworld inquired.
“He raped a girl. And remains unashamed.” Rhadamanthus’s voice thundered over the hall, taking on a life of its own. “He deserves the Phlegethon.”
“Phlegethon for a single rape?” the shade bleated, glaring at everyone in turn.
“It was one ruined girl!” His sniveling face settled on Hades once more, beseeching.
My stomach soured in my revulsion. “A century as nothing, a century in darkness for a night’s sport. I’ve paid my due. I was killed for it!”
Something about his voice kept me frozen in place, watching with bated breath. I was originally spying on Hades, but I couldn’t drag my eyes away from the shade. His voice clawed at me, demanding my attention, urgent in its insistence.
“You call it sport.” Hades’s voice was cold. Calm. “Others would call it violation of the worst degree. Defilement.”
The shade’s twisted grin appeared, my stomach dropping even more. Did Hades agree with him? I searched his face, but he gave nothing away in his stoic expression. “She wept prettily enough.” The shade boasted, his chest puffing at the brag. “I’d wager she still does somewhere down here.”
I forced my hands to stop their worrying against the rough stone of the column that hid me before I ripped them open.
Hades stood, bringing about a rapt silence that echoed his footsteps down the five stairs to the dais where the shade watched with widening eyes.
“That’s enough.” Hades’s voice was the crack of a whip. It reverberated through the air, taking on a life of its own. The shade’s wavering grin fell at last, tumbling from his face in the wake of a rising fear.
“You understand, right?” he tried with a deliberately casual shrug, ”That males have needs. You know I don’t need to be punished further. I deserve the meadows afterlife after one hundred years of waiting.” Hades’s only response was to stroll closer, each slow footfall a menacing promise.
One hundred years of waiting?
Hades lifted his hand, black fire coiling, writhing, from the floor up the chains. The prisoner’s fearful shouts disintegrated into agonized wails as flesh roiled back to the charred bone beneath.
“You mistake me for a judge.” Hades’ smile stretched thin over his lips.
“I am your sentence.” His power cracked, like thunder with no sound; it vibrated and crackled around the hall, making goosebumps form over me and the hair at my nape stand on ceremony.
“Another century in the dark, shade, with only your new flames for company this time. And don’t worry, your skin will never actually deaden and melt off.
You’ll feel the fire as your new friend for every moment of your sentence. ”
I resisted the urge to retch, the smell shoving down my throat and bringing tears to my eyes. I clutched my mouth, desperate to keep my presence here a secret.
I couldn’t help feeling shaken in my belief that Hades was a monster to be feared as Mother had drilled into me.
If he were truly a monster, would he not have sided with the shade?
Or, perhaps were he truly a monster, he would have banished the shade without investigation.
He allowed the shade to speak, to plead his case, however thoughtless it was. Hades heard him out.
Rhadamanthus’s expression was somewhere between a smile and a sneer as he pulled the chains. Despite the black flames licking at the shade, the judges seemed impervious to the heat.
In a matter of moments, almost as quickly as the scene before me had unraveled, the screams, the agonized pleas for mercy, the rattling of chains faded behind the massive wooden doors, silence reigning supreme once more.
If Hades had glanced up at the shadows that stirred as I backed away, I’d never know.
I was already gone, taking my dread-laden thoughts and shaken convictions with me.
The library of House Hades went uncharacteristically still. The sounds of shelving even stopped, something that tugged on my attention but could not fully snare it from my book I was so enjoying.
Hades.
I’d forgotten how tall he was. He held a hand out with a small, devious smile that had my heart rate picking up against my will.
I glared at him, and with a huff I turned back to my book, effectively dismissing him.
He brings me here against my will, claims I belong to him, and then ceases to exist. It’s been days since that moment at the Lethe, and the thought of the river still makes me shiver.
But Hades had pleaded with me to come back to him. And I had.
Just for him to ignore my existence once again.
With a sigh, he sat down in the sofa across from me.
“I deserve that,” he said, hanging his head in admonition. “I did come to try to make it up to you.”
I side-eyed him, glancing up from my book from under my lashes, my interest mildly stirred. “I’m listening.”
That lethal smile appeared again. “I know I’m very late, but I want to give you a tour. And afterwards, I had a thought to show you my personal favorite spot in the Underworld. A spot I think you’ll find refreshing.”
My curiosity piqued, I watched him from beneath my lashes, pretending to be enraptured in my book.
I sank into the reclining sofa, Hades settling himself at my feet.
“Now, I can’t make promises, but it’s possible your magic will work there.
I thought you might like to see something that resembles life after all this death.
” I fidgeted, trying not to look at him and failing miserably.
His answering smile seemed genuine, reminding me of the garden in Olympus, and of the god that empowered me, rather than the scoundrel I’d been treated to since I’d been here. “Come with me today.”
I didn’t understand my own desires. Did I want him with me or did I think him a monster? Does one discount the other? Mother’s narrative and my own observations overshadowed one another until I had nothing but a murky mess to pick from.
If you quote Demeter every time you look at me or a new situation, you’ll never know what you think.
I didn’t reject the words this time. I eyed Hades who waited patiently for my answer. “Promise me you won’t abandon me again.”
His smile widened into a grin. “I promise.” He held out his hand, an invitation I couldn’t resist even if I’d wanted to.
And I told myself I wanted to ignore him over and over again as I took his hand.
But the pulse thundering away excitedly in my chest told a different story.
So, I amended my convictions, telling myself it was okay to be curious about the realm in which I’d been stuck.
Even a mouse must be curious about its trap after enough time.
“Though a word of caution, little shadow.” His face hardened back into that constant arrogant mask, his smile slipping into that aggravating smirk. “The Underworld doesn’t bite those I invite, but admittedly she does nibble newcomers to test boundaries, so it may be best to stick close.”
Hades’ tour was so much extensive more than Hecate’s. She’d shown me the functional parts of House Hades, and even a few pleasures—the library immediately coming to mind. But Hades’s tour was an enthralling adventure, not that I’d tell him that.
Horror and wonder weren’t two reactions I’d anticipated experiencing at once, and yet in the sight of the river of fire, they danced in unison within me. The Phlegethon looped for ages around the entire realm, with countless screams in the backdrop.
“Do not pity the souls in there.” Hades’ voice was steel over stone.
“That is the penance for mortals who commit heinous atrocities, some in their own name, many in mine. I don’t take kindly to being invoked for violence against innocents.
The souls there deserve their punishments.
And one day, when they finish their sentences, they will be rejudged.
If they have changed, they have a chance of being sorted into a kinder afterlife. ”
So, I was right. Hades didn’t deal punishments in infinities. Not like the Morningstar’s eternal punishments.
“But if they haven’t amended their ways?” I asked, nearly dreading the answer.
“The fields of punishment await, beyond.” He pointed beyond the Phlegethon, or at least the part I could see from here. “Sisyphus should be over there somewhere. He’s a bigger problem than the stories tell, I assure you.”
“Why are you showing me this?” I asked. His expression softened.
“Because I know you’ve been taught to fear this place. And I want to show it all to you. Every dark corner, so you can see there is nothing to fear. At least as long as you’re with me.”
That didn’t make me feel overly settled.