Chapter Eighty-Three
Ash
We descended the mildew-leaden staircase as it wound further and further down, flanked by torches that lit as we walked.
The Matriarch, Minerva, led us with a grave expression and silent feet.
It felt so removed from the rest of the world, blanketed by thick silence.
These stones hadn’t heard the sound of footsteps in years, if not longer, gauging by the thick webbing that blocked us off.
Persephone walked stiffly behind me, her eyes hollow.
I wiped every cobweb from her path, every spider, knowing her fear of them, but she barely blinked.
Her steps were rhythmic, but her mind was elsewhere, shielding itself as she processed her grief. Her fear.
It didn’t take a genius to know that she was fighting her fear of the curse and her feelings for me.
Her instincts were begging her to run, but still she stayed with me.
I glanced down at my hands, resisting the urge to wipe them on my pants, on anything.
I swear if I looked long enough, I would still see her blood glinting in the firelight.
I refuse to harm her again, I snarled at the Fates.
I knew they hear me, I knew they listen.
I don’t care what you throw our way. I won’t allow you to hurt her, especially not through me.
I knew running would do nothing, because the curse would force me to hunt her down.
But the witches could seal me away like I was before.
I glanced down at her again, admiring the softness of her face amidst the warmth of the fire light.
Even drawn and exhausted and spent, she was still fighting so hard, was still giving so much of herself. She was breathtaking.
And the moment she was out of earshot, I’d make my deal with the Matriarch. I would rather forgo my revenge and be removed from the equation than hurt her.
Fallyn
On some level I noticed Hades removing spiders from my path, and somewhere within me, I smiled in gratitude.
But the crunch of something under my foot made me cringe and a shiver went down my spine like the spill of oil.
I fought a retch, realizing that I probably just stepped a spider.
A big one. Hades chuckled while simultaneously steadying me with a sure squeeze of his hand. I squeezed back—hard.
His laugh abruptly quieted to a snicker he tried desperately to hide.
“Laugh now, God of the dead. Because my grip strength is solid and you’re going to be the one to endure it. So, if I suffer, you do too.”
“I love a little mutually assured destruction,” he murmured before pressing his lips in a a vain effort to hide his growing grin.
I glared at him. At least he was trying not to bask in his amusement.
His quick gasp was obviously meant to rile my already overwhelmed nervous system, but I jumped anyway.
I squeezed his hand as promised, grinning in smug satisfaction as his laughter turned to wincing.
“You two certain you’re in love?” Minerva griped ahead of me. “You sound like bickering best friends.”
“We are bickering best friends,” Hades said softly.
“Love born of friendship is the best kind.” I was glad that the dim lighting of our surroundings hid the blush spreading across my cheeks.
I squeezed his hand, gently this time, in appreciation and reciprocation.
Minerva made a grunt of acknowledgment but certainly didn’t sound like she agreed or particularly cared.
We strode forward, the charged silence quickly decaying the lighter mood from before. A heaviness settled in my chest as we neared the bottom step.
The stairs deposited us in a cavern far below where the sun could ever hope to find us, colossal in its height and reach.
Even the gods would lose us here. The air was old, stale, and reeked of damp and disuse.
The weight of old magic shimmered and chilled the air, bringing gooseflesh alight over my body.
Sconces rimmed the perimeter, lighting at our proximity, achingly reminded me of the ones in House Hades, glittering black in their own firelight and casting fleeing shadows over an altar reclaimed by nature.
Ivy vines and moss had aged the withered stone, like a haggard old woman who had once been breathtaking.
What once would have been proud, ornate grey slate was now faded from remembrance, its opulent carvings dulled by the growth that had taken it over.
Dark water surrounded it all, so deep you couldn't be confident something didn't watch, lurking and waiting.
A single stone path, slick and narrow like a parapet, led to the alter space.
That wasn’t captivated my gaze, eyes widened in shock.
Hades too was stricken in awe.
Lightning, frozen in violence aimed at the alter lit the space far better than the sconces around us.
It didn’t flicker, didn’t crackle. It silently lingered perpetually mid strike, just touching the stone, forcing moss and lichen to flee its heat, leaving a perfect circle of stone eerily untouched.
I padded forward to investigate, but the heat kept me at bay too.
“How is this possible?” My awe was all-consuming, giving me a blessed reprieve from my dread.
“Welcome,” Minerva turned to us with the locket in hand, “to the Dark Tempus.”
“What is this place?” Hades asked, staring at the lightning in rapt fascination.
“A place into which all the realms bleed. Where the veil is incredibly thin and time has no meaning. It stands still here and moves on around us.”
“You mean—”
“Yes. Time does not explicitly exist here. While here, your curse shouldn’t spread.
And if we perform the rite correctly, the lockets you carry should keep it that way even after you leave this cavern.
It won’t break the curse," she warned seeing the hopeful glance Hades and I shared, "but it’s a loophole that will buy you a significant amount of time.”
“How long will it last?” I looked from the lightning to the alter, to the locket, and back at last back to Minerva.
Minerva pondered a moment. “A long time in any case. Years, possibly more. If you want to kill the curse, you must kill the one who cursed you. This will give you that time you need.”
Hades and I looked at each other. Could this really be the answer we’d been searching for all along? Time was definitely not on our side, but what if it were no longer our enemy?
“What is entailed in this ritual?” Hades asked. I tracked the movement of his hand as it rubbed his neck. An anxious tell. “What must I do?”
“The blood of the last Titan will initiate the spell,” Minerva said, eyes finding the locket I still held in my hands.
“Offer your blood to the locket, but I warn you, it won’t be pleasant.
” Of course. As Kronos’s son, Hades would be half of the blood of the youngest titan.
A cold shiver fell over me. Would half of his blood be enough for this?
“I’ll do whatever is necessary.” Hades’ voice left no room for hesitation, only resolution. Minerva offered him a small, contrite smile that faded into a grimace as she looked toward the tree.
“I worry you misunderstand, Hades. You both need to perform this, as you are each one half of this curse. You will both need to bleed upon the locket.” She pulled out a small knife, its wicked edge glinting in the dim.
“What will happen when we do?” I found my voice, despite it sounding small and breathy.
Minerva sighed, looking both of us in turn with a twisted expression.
“The spell will stop time for the curse in your body, but the process will be painful.” Her warning cut deeper than any blade, carried more weight than the most forbidding omen.
“You’ll relive every time you died. Every time he killed you in perfect detail.
You’ll feel every stab, relive every agony.
If in your heart you still accept him, the curse will be halted.
Time will have halted for it, and Hades can never have his mind taken over again.
” She mistook my incredulous expression for surprise at the final reveal and shrugged.
“Are you surprised? You can’t be cursed twice, and the curse will sort of stay in effect.
It just can’t advance to cloud his mind if you do this. ”
Hades’ eyes widened. “Does she have to do this? There must be another way. She’s already traumatized by her past lives.
” Turning to me, his hands cupped my face, those gold flecks I love as if they were a light source all their own.
“I mean it. I will not put you through that. We can find another way.” I put my hand on his shoulder, a small smile I scarcely felt coming forth.
“I’m happy to do this.” I said, bolstering myself. “I don’t want you to suffer this alone.”
When Hades’ eyes met mine was the first time, I saw a crack in the armor he held around himself. The first time I saw him truly shatter, taking the air straight from my lungs. “You have suffered enough, little shadow. It’s not fucking fair.”
I reached for him again, this time pulling him to me as if I could squeeze all the pieces of us back together if I just held tightly enough.
I wanted to bury my face in his chest and lose myself for a while, but we didn’t have that luxury.
Time may not have existed here, but it did elsewhere. It did in Olympus.
I grasped his face softly with both hands, my thumbs stroking his cheeks in what I hoped was soothing.
“One more time. You and me. Together.” Leaning up on my toes, I pressed my forehead to his. “I love you. We can do this, just once more and it will be behind us. Are you with me, Hades?”
He kissed me, his lips on mine with an urgency that had nothing to do with lust and everything to do with conveying emotion where words fell short. “Always, little shadow.”
We turned to see an unmoved Minerva, looking everywhere but our direction as though avoiding our gaze to gather her thoughts for the spell.
“Remember that I love you,” Hades whispered, rubbing his hands up and down my arms as if willing me armor.
“It’ll be a nightmare. I’ll never in our immortal lifetimes be able to make up for all that I’d done to you under the curse, but I’m grateful that you’re going to let me try.
What you’re about to see, what you’re about to go through, please don’t forget that you’re fucking everything to me.
Please don’t forget that I’m completely undone by you.
You’re the first breath I’ve after centuries of drowning.
You’re so fucking strong. We’ll get through this together. You and me.”
He offered his hand tentatively. With a shaky smile I didn’t feel, I slipped my hand in his.
“You and me. Whatever I see, know that you’re the reason I fight.
You’re the reason I refuse the path the Fates have given us and you’re worth it.
If we make it through this, then everything, every nightmare, every sleepless night, every lifetime will have been worth it if I get to spend eternity next to you. ”
Hades did something I’d not seen from him before. A tear slid free beneath the edge of his furrowed brow. “I don’t deserve you.” A tear fell away on my own cheek, my thoughts echoing his in turn. It was I who was undeserving.
“Are you quite ready?” Minerva’s question was sharply punctuated with the unsheathing of her dagger. The soft snick of steel from leather grounded me, enveloping me in a sense of urgency. And a strong sense of fear that I shoved away. There was no room to acknowledge fear. Not right now.
We both nodded silently. I held the pocket in my open palm between us as Minerva began speaking in a language I didn’t understand.
Old, but it didn’t sound like old Olympian.
It sounded angrier. Harsher than the melodic lilt of old Olympian.
I wondered if this were the mortal language of the Morningstar.
Hecate said that the magic used for breaking a curse like this would be his magic rather than hers.
Hades’ sharp intake of breath signaled his palm being cut, and he bled over the locket. Both Minerva and Hades looked to me with an expression between apology and expectation.
I held out my palm, proud that my hand didn’t shake, despite the nervousness I felt. Hades’ other hand tipped my chin to look at him rather than the blade Minerva held.
“Eyes on me, little shadow.” He soothed me, his thumb tracing my cheek the way I’d had his earlier, making my heart give a painful squeeze.
The cold bite of the dagger in my palm overrode it, and I watched Hades war with himself, watched him fight his instincts to retaliate against Minerva for harming me. It was all I could do to hope that when this was over, he’d still hate the Morningstar more than himself.
I bled onto the locket, watching with rapt fascination when the locket glowed red from within, the blood offering igniting. I dropped it with a shriek.
“Hold hands and don’t let go of each other. Hold out until it’s over.” Minerva didn’t sound remotely comforting. Hold out until it’s over. I couldn’t help a scathing look over my shoulder at her, softening when I saw her fear there. The contrition.
She was sorry.
But she was detached from us in the event this killed us both.
That's a comforting realization.