Chapter 18

“My gods,” I breathed. “After all of your stories, I’m finally here, and I’m even alive to appreciate it! I want to see everything!”

Thanatos gave me one last squeeze before releasing me from his grip. “Come with me and I will show you.”

I slipped obediently down from his bed and rose to my feet for the first time since this afternoon, which now felt like a lifetime away. A subtle shock of energy fluttered up my legs as I stood. I twitched at the new sensation, then tested it curiously by rocking onto my toes a couple more times.

“Alright?” Thanatos asked, standing up beside me. He stared me down as if preparing to hold my soul inside my body again.

“It’s okay,” I said, and I gave him my best easygoing grin. “I feel a little different, that’s all. I wonder whether it will go away, or if I’ll get used to it? Anyway, show me the Underworld! I want to see.”

He smiled back at me and took me by the hand, guiding me through a doorway on the wall opposite his bed.

Across the threshold was a slightly smaller room arranged as a lavish lounge.

To our left was a long, cushioned couch with legs and armrests crafted from silver-inlaid yew.

The metal swirled in elegant patterns across the wood, its flashy opulence contrasting pleasantly with the simple black fabric of the cushions.

There was a matching rectangular table before it, low to the floor, and a chair which faced us from the far end.

“Pretty,” I said.

There was something eerie about the scene, though, which bristled in my subconscious until I identified what was amiss.

As I surveyed the room, I realized I had yet to see a single torch or lamp—only unlit candles set in fanciful candlesticks.

I remembered then what he’d said about the air here, how it illuminated the environment all on its own.

And it was true: without supplemental light, this was a realm without shadows.

Or it was all shadows, I supposed, depending on one’s perspective.

Thanatos let go of my hand and fluttered over to the far wall. There, he pulled back a tall curtain, revealing a sliding glass door behind it. “Come here,” he said. When I followed him out through the door, the sights beyond it took my breath away.

We were standing on his balcony—the same balcony he’d told me about many times before, where he liked to watch the proceedings of Hades’ court.

But the picture I’d held in my mind’s eye was nothing in comparison to the grandeur that lay before me now.

The platform itself was semicircular, and appeared to be built entirely from an unfamiliar type of lustrous black stone.

A decorative railing enclosed its edge, incorporating delicate carvings with a leafy motif.

Each leaf was trimmed tastefully with what could only be actual gold.

On the left side, a dais had been added to the balcony’s floor.

Upon it stood a chair, placed at a calculated height so that its occupant could watch over the railing.

The chair, however, was not delicate. It was wide, sharp, and imposing.

Its armrests were discontinuous from its back, leaving purposeful space for his wings to fan out when he lounged there.

In this throne, he would fit perfectly the image of a dark god looming over the court of the dead.

I almost wanted to ask him to demonstrate—except that the court, too, was finally within my reach.

I approached the balcony’s railing with bated breath.

Looking out, I saw that we were three levels above the ground, high up the face of the grand palace.

To our left, the building continued onward, then curved around in a steep crescent shape so that I could see the rooms on the opposing face directly across from us.

These, too, boasted tall windows and spacious balconies that matched the one I stood upon.

Everything, including the facade itself, was built from the otherworldly black stone, so that the palace walls appeared as a glossy black mirror inlaid with precious metals and gems.

Below us, contained within the arc of the facade, a great expanse of magnificent marble flooring lay open to the gleaming air.

Tables and chairs were set around its edges.

What I now recognized as a ballroom extended to our right until the marble gave way to a pathway leading down toward the city proper.

Storied buildings filled the distance from the end of the path to the distant wall which circled Elysium, which was visible from here only because the palace stood upon a hill.

Looking hard enough, I thought I was able to catch the faint shimmer of the legendary diamond gate.

To my left, at the enclosed end of the ballroom, stood a platform that elevated twin thrones.

They were works of art, sculpted expertly to match the palace motifs; the elaborate ornamentation of the stone and metalwork must have taken craftsmen years to perfect.

The two were a matching set, except that the rightmost throne was covered in twisting, blooming vines with white-petaled flowers. The seats were empty, for now.

Such a design seemed impractical at first, to have the grand hall so exposed.

But then again, this was a realm void of rain and sky, subject only to the subtle currents of the shimmering air.

And what threat could ever set foot in the city without passing over the dreaded rivers and through the diamond gates?

This court was a statement befitting its location and its ruler both.

Hades was also a god of wealth, after all.

I hadn’t expected to experience the Underworld so soon, and certainly not like this.

But I supposed life, afterlife, and immortality weren’t exactly predictable things, and in this implausible scenario, I was glad for my early arrival.

It meant I could finally share it with Thanatos, could see the wonders he’d told me about with my own eyes.

It occurred to me he’d somehow still been downplaying the level of opulence that characterized his home.

Even the railing beneath my hands was encrusted with gemstones.

“Who are they?” I asked, pointing down at the ballroom floor, where I’d spotted moving figures.

Two people were walking along the border of the marble, carrying covered silver platters.

The division between the edges of their bodies and the surrounding air seemed blurred, as if their forms were sinking into the essence of the Underworld. “Are they souls?”

“Yes,” replied Thanatos from beside me. He wrapped his arm around my waist. “A court needs its attendants, no?”

“I remember you telling me that the dead walk these halls, but I guess I never imagined them working in the palace. How are these ones chosen from the rest?”

“These are the busybodies of Asphodel,” he said.

“Souls who belong nowhere else wander endlessly in the fields to the east of here, where they lose themselves in eternity. Some there would rather pass their existence in a more structured afterlife, and a lucky few of these are selected as retainers. They are satisfied to be given a routine and a change of scenery. To many it is preferable to roaming endlessly through the grasses.”

“That makes sense, I suppose,” I said. “I—why are you looking at me like that?” I had turned back to look at him, and was startled to find him brooding.

Thanatos tried for a smile and brushed a loose tuft of hair out of my face. “I just…fuck. Please, let me care for you,” he pleaded softly.

His gaze swept over my body, and I realized why he despaired.

I was wearing the same white dress I’d donned this morning, but now its front was glaringly shredded, and both it and my skin had been stained with my blood.

Even though I was whole again, we both bore the marks of our ordeal.

I understood his pain all too well. Echoes of his dreadful screaming were imprinted in the back of my mind.

“Okay.” I let him pull me against his chest and cradle me too tightly. He was right; the rest of the Underworld could wait for a while longer.

When he finally let me go, Thanatos led me back through the sliding door to his lounge and pulled an ornamental lever on the wall that I hadn’t noticed there before.

Presumably it activated a bell in another area, sending for the castle’s servants.

Servants. I had only heard rumors of such devices existing in the grandest chambers of Halieis’ high wing.

We moved back to his bedroom while we waited, and sat together on the edge of his bed.

Thanatos held me just as obsessively as before, wrapping me up in both his arms and his wings.

I sank contentedly into the affectionate tangle of limbs and feathers.

After a short time, there came a knock at the door, and it opened just a crack.

A middle-aged woman with short brown hair popped her head into the room, the edges of her manifestation blending into the realm surrounding.

“Laverna?” asked Thanatos when she caught his eye. “Please send for handmaidens for my…guest.”

“Very well,” said Laverna, and she disappeared out the door without another word.

“Your guest?” I teased once she had gone.

“Ha. I would not have our story spread through the rumors of chattering souls. Leave them to wonder for now, until we are able to tell it ourselves.”

“Alright, then. But you know, sooner or later they’re going to figure out we’re boning.”

“I would think that to be obvious,” Thanatos retorted, his cheeks reddening. At that, my grin widened.

“Hey, we’re going to be the drama around here for a little while,” I pointed out. “You think you’re going to make it?”

“I am used to the cautious staring, but for this I cannot claim to be in any way prepared.”

“Oh, just let them look,” I said cheerfully. “And show me off when they stare! I’ve had plenty of practice being a beautiful trophy.”

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