Chapter 16 Hades #2
“Hecate.” Persephone rises from her throne with an affectionate smile and steps down to embrace her. Every eye in the room is on her, though no one has gotten to their feet. “I’m glad to see you here. Have you come to make a request? If you have, please be assured that my king and I will hear you.”
My heart thunders. Of course it is the right thing to say, but where did Persephone learn these words?
They are a clear demonstration that we have no qualms with Hecate.
We are not at war with her. She is the goddess of cycles and balance.
Accepting her, even in the darkness, even in the most violent of times, aids peace and hope.
Which is surely what this court is after.
Hecate glances over Persephone’s shoulder and inclines her head to me before she speaks.
“My queen,” she says. “My queen. I thank you for your kind greetings. I have not come to make a request, but to give you notice of my comings and goings. I wish for you to be prepared.”
“Prepared?” I question, that trembling rage turning to something else.
Something I can finally place: fear. Every soul who is gathered for today’s session will hear me, because they have all fallen silent.
They want to hear every word, because they will leave this session and repeat what has happened all through my realms.
“Yes, my king,” Hecate replies. “I come to you to tell you that I will return to Olympus tonight. The new moon is high and will fall shortly. Soon, the new crescent will light the skies. This is the way it has always been, and the way it will be. This is a sign of balance. There will be balance among the realms.”
It’s not quite a whisper that ripples through the crowd at these words. It is more of an energy. A shift of knowing. As if the souls here do not dare to react out loud but are unable to contain their excitement.
“There will be balance,” Persephone replies with a solemn nod, and this time, the vibration is even more palpable.
The souls cannot stay still. They sway slightly, even down on one knee.
Every face turned toward mine shows the same desire—to turn toward the soul next to them and speak of what has happened. To whisper. Perhaps even to shout.
My hand curls into a fist on the arm of my throne. Balance. The word is a hiss in the back of my mind, and I can’t help but to stare at my queen. Hecate has said so little and yet so much. It’s nearly a threat.
Persephone embraces Hecate again. Then the two goddesses separate, and Hecate gives a shallow bow in my direction. She turns with her head held high and leaves, bestowing more blessings as she makes her way out of court.
When the doors have closed behind her, Persephone comes up the steps of the dais and takes her seat beside me. She slides one of her hands under my fist and the other on top of it, holding my hand in both of hers.
The touch itself is reassuring. Persephone has seen my resistance to Hecate’s message.
“We will begin,” Persephone states, and the souls get to their feet. The very next moment, the doors open, and a single new soul enters, the same guards on either side. There is no hesitation now.
The crowd feels free to whisper and they do.
“I am your queen wherever I go,” Persephone says as the guards lead the soul to the dais. “And you are my king.”
“Wherever you go,” I agree as I repeat her words, although I can’t stop looking at her. What deal has she made with Hecate?
“And your love is stronger than any other emotion, even anger,” she says, a little faster.
The soul will arrive at the dais in a matter of moments.
She is an older woman with light and thinning, shoulder-length hair.
She appears dazed and unsure of where she is.
I know that Persephone will be kind to her. “Is that still true?”
“Of course it is, my queen.”
Persephone leans over and kisses my cheek. A quiet gasp whispers through the crowd and is quickly stifled. “The Underworld is healing. You are healing, too. All is as it should be.”
I place my other hand over hers and look into her eyes.
I do not have time to say all I wish to say and explain the anger and fear twisting inside me, held at bay by her hands on mine.
I do not have time to tell her what it means that her touch is comforting in this way, and how I cannot be expected to live without it again.
I do not have time to tell her that I know, I know, that the realms must be in balance or they must be destroyed.
“All will be balanced in time,” I say instead.
Persephone nods, a private smile curving her lips. She squeezes my hand between both of hers.
Then, without letting go of my hand, as if it is natural to hold her king’s hand while she pronounces judgment upon a soul, Persephone faces the woman who has arrived at the dais.
The guard announces the reason for the soul’s unrest. The brutal manner in which it was ended brings tears to many.
The fact that she ended it herself but was not in her right mind, too concerned with her children having enough food to eat and not wanting to eat herself.
She sacrificed her soul, although the penalty for suicide is well known.
She could not easily be placed, as she thought if she only ate a morsel, she could be with her family, and no one would perish.
This is the consequence of Demeter's pain and withering of the crops.
Mothers died to save their children. But for how long?
“Do not be worried,” my queen says, her voice soft, as comforting and welcoming as a thick blanket after coming in from the cold. “You are meant to be here. You have found your way, and now there is only a short journey ahead of you.”
“And…then what will I do?” the woman asks, staring up at Persephone with wide, agonized eyes.
“Rest,” Persephone says, smiling. The warmth in her voice is not a performance.
It’s as real as the warmth in her hands.
“You are able to rest now and with that rest, you will have abundance.” She turns her attention to the guards.
“She is noble, although she misjudged her actions. Please take her to the Elysium.” Her verdict brings a murmur over the crowds.
“Do you agree my king,” she asks me and I do.
With a nod, the woman is taken away and the courts continue.