For the Love of Hades (The Loves of Olympus) (22 page)

“… Zeus was less than helpful. Hera seemed to think you’d run off with a lover. I could convince no one of the truth. So I searched. When I came to Eleusis, I’d lost all hope.” She paused, pouring water over Persephone’s head. The water clouded about her knees, disturbing the surface. Her reflection vanished, lost beneath the foam and oil.

She swallowed, feeling lost too.

Her mother chattered on, wrapping her in a clean tunic and brushing the tangles from her hair. She was never quiet, Persephone noticed.

“Sleep now,” Demeter said, hugging her close. “Rest and forget all the ill you’ve seen. You’ve the sweetest soul, one too long missing from this realm.”

Persephone lay back, pulling up the furs and blankets as her mother crept from the room. Once the door was shut, Persephone rolled into the furs and sobbed until she could sob no more.

###

“The entrance is guarded by the three-headed beast,” Sartirios whispered.

“I see no one, nothing else…” Erysichthon’s eyes scoured the darkness of Hades’ caves.

The men, souls fading in the rising sun, crouched behind a boulder.

Taras hissed, “Can we kill it?”

Cerberus was staring at them. Cerberus would not leave the darkness of the cave, but stood ready. Their eyes, all six, flashed yellow in the gloom. When the wind fell still, the hiss of the serpents was audible.

“No. It is dead, like us,” Sartirios responded.

Erysichthon smiled, meeting the eyes of the monster. “It will have a weakness.”

The creature growled, rising up on thick legs. The jaws snapped, drops of drool flying out onto the grass beyond the cave’s mouth. The grass curled, turning brown then crumbling to black.

“What a vile beast.” Taras shuddered, turning away from the cave’s entrance to lean against the boulder.

“Be mindful of what you say,” Erysichthon laughed. “It will serve us soon enough…”

“Or drag us to Tartarus,” Sartirios warned.

Erysichthon ignored them, too transfixed by the vicious brutality that shone from Cerberus’ gaze. Did the animal know him? Or did it gaze upon all souls with such hunger? It mattered not.

He pushed off of the rocks, walking in front of the cave. He heard Cerberus howl in fury, but ignored it. He’d nothing to fear, for now. He motioned for the men to follow, speaking to them as they made for the cover of the trees.

Sunlight broke over the mountains, erasing all traces of them in the light.

He hated the sun, almost as much as he hated Hades… And Demeter. The sun took his strength, his form, his being… While Demeter and Hades had taken his purpose. His anger warmed him, buoying his confidence.

“Time is our ally,” he assured the men. “Night will come soon enough. But now, make use of the light. Go and learn all you can about the beast. There must be some who know how to tame it.”

Sartirios nodded, leaving them as they entered the trees. Men waited, too many for Erysichthon to count. More came every day. Broken souls, lost and bitter. Erysichthon was learning quickly, nothing was more dangerous than one forgotten. He offered them a way to be remembered.

“Panoptes,” Erysichthon continued. “What of the rivers?”

“We cannot cross them. Some force, some magic, prevents it.” Panoptes sounded defeated.

“What of Charon?” Erysichthon asked. “What of making him an ally?”

Panoptes took no pains to hide his disbelief. “Charon?”

Erysichthon stood, towering over the man. “Charon. You whine and complain and belittle too much of late, Panoptes.”

Panoptes did not look at him.

“I never promised this would be an easy fight,” his words were low. “What else would you do?”

“Watch my boy,” Panoptes said, glancing at him now. “See him grow.”

Erysichthon felt a moment’s pain at the words. He did not think of Ione often, he saw no point in it. But when he did, he felt the pull of loss. He knew there was no hope for a reunion, not while she still lived. And knowing that, he had no desire for a reunion any time soon.

But Persephone… she’d lived long in the Underworld. She would do so again.

He reached for Panoptes, to clap him heartily upon the back and rally his spirit. But his hands were too insubstantial to do so. His form passed through Panoptes, and unsettled all who saw it. For none of them had made peace with their state. It was why they kept fighting. They hoped, somehow, to change it.

“Go then,” Erysichthon urged. “Watch them. They cannot see you in the sunlight. But know that while you are stuck, they move on. What will you do when you visit them and find a man in your bed? When your wife finds your children a new father, will seeing them still bring you comfort? I warn you now, prepare yourself for such things. It is the way of the living, to move on and forget.”

“I would see them happy,” Panoptes murmured, his voice anguished.

“Would you?” Erysichthon asked. “Then go now. Your visits will end when we cross over. So go now, and savor what time you have left.”

       Panoptes hesitated, then set off at a fair pace toward what had once been his home. Erysichthon watched him, and seven others like him, vanish under the sun – chasing a life that was no longer theirs.

He felt that familiar ache, the faint twinge of longing for Ione, but shrugged it aside. They’d a new path before them. Panoptes and the others would come back. And they would fight. There was no other choice. Erysichthon would make certain of that.

“What do you think?” Demeter stood back, tilting her head this way and that as she regarded the bountiful arrangement of flowers.

Persephone stood beside her. She tried to smile. She did try. “They’re lovely, Mother.”

Demeter sighed. “They are. Yet you are not pleased.”

 “I am,” she hastened to assure her mother.

“They’re flowers,” Athena said with a shake of her head. “Nice, certainly. But flowers nonetheless. Would such sights normally send her into raptures?”

“Stop being churlish,” Hera snapped. “We all know you’d rather be off chasing ghosts…”

Demeter clicked her tongue.

“Sorry.” Hera looked truly remorseful as she smiled at Persephone. “I meant no offense.”

Persephone smiled back. “No, no, of course not.” She walked slowly, moving around the massive vase of flowers. It was a small distance, but she savored it.

“I’m more capable than Hermes,” Athena complained.

“At fighting perhaps,” Hera said.

The women laughed, making her loneliness complete. She did not share in their banter. She felt no camaraderie amongst these women, no comfort in their discourse. And yet, they seemed determined to keep her close.

She could not leave Olympus, not while Erysichthon was still free. But she’d been denied the right to walk the mountain top, to explore the nearby valley or Olympus’ vineyards. Demeter was near crippled with the fear of losing her again.

“You’re heartsick.” Aphrodite came round the other side of the arrangement, trailing her fingers along the rim of the vase. She smiled slightly, her blue eyes full of sympathy.

She should deny it.

“Being away from home for so long, perhaps?” Aphrodite stroked the petal of one blossom between her fingers. “You miss your plants and the earth beneath your touch?”

Persephone opened her mouth, but could find no answer.

Aphrodite stared at her then, inspecting her face intently. “Or is it something more?”

Persephone blinked, the prick of tears startling her. “No, nothing more. It is as you said. I… I have been too long without tending to those that need me.”

Aphrodite lowered her voice. “Your plants?”

She nodded.

“Nothing else?” She moved closer, placing a hand on Persephone’s forearm. “There’s a sadness in you… It is familiar. You long for something… something that has nothing to do with your plants…”

Persephone pulled her arm away, shaking her head.

“Persephone?” Demeter joined them, “Did you hear?”

“No,” she spoke quickly, if a bit breathlessly. “I was admiring your gifts. We both were.” She glanced at Aphrodite. The Goddess of Love smiled easily enough.

“Curious.” Demeter touched her forehead. “I wonder…”

Her mother looked at her. Aphrodite regarded her as well.

“You wonder what?”

Demeter wrapped an arm about her shoulder, pulling her back to the padded cushions and klines where the others sat.

“Water,” Demeter ordered, waving Hebe forward. “For Persephone.”

Persephone took the cup and drank deeply, aware that all eyes were on her. When the cup was empty she gave it back to Hebe with a small smile. “Thank you.”

Hebe smiled back.

“What did you eat while you were away?” Demeter asked.

“Away?”

“While you were in…” Hera’s voice faded.

Aphrodite’s voice was softer, gentler as she finished what Hera could not. “In the Underworld.”

“Eat?” Why did such a question seem to trouble them so?

Demeter sat beside her, taking her hands. “You’ve been so… melancholy since your return, Persephone. I’d hoped you would recover, in time.”

Recover? She clasped her hands in her lap, staring at them as pain welled up in her chest. Could one recover from a broken heart?

“But you seem to fade every day.”

Persephone sighed, a forced attempt to dismiss her mother’s concern.

“You’re not as Demeter described you,” Athena offered.

Demeter clicked again. Had she always done so? Persephone couldn’t recall, but it was a most grating habit.

Her gaze traveled from one Goddess to the next. “I’m not sure I understand.”

“Your mother may not have brought you to Olympus, Persephone,” Hera spoke. “But she often spoke of you. Your laughter, your easy smile.”

“Your fondness for singing,” Aphrodite added.

Athena joined in, “Your stories… What a gifted story teller you are.”

“Oh.” She would gladly feign a headache, but she’d claimed such a malady too often of late.

“Are you well?” her mother asked.

Persephone drew in a slow breath. “I am. I am well.”

Hera and Demeter exchanged a look, clearly unconvinced.

“Are you sure, daughter?”

Hera asked, “Can you recall what you ate while in Hades’ home?”

Images, too painful to recall, too painful to ignore, filled her head and her heart. She stared at her hands again. Her knuckles were white, her fingers bloodless. She wiped her hands over her knees, under the guise of smoothing her skirts. When she looked up, Aphrodite’s blue eyes were full of tears.

Persephone felt her nerves rise up, and tore her gaze from Aphrodite.

“Nectar,” the word spilled from her lips. “And ambrosia… Nothing else.”

Demeter sighed, her face overcome with relief. She clasped her hands to her bosom, smiling at Hera. “I knew he would not…”

Athena shook her head, “Then why did you worry so? He’s done nothing to cause such suspicion… ever.”

“He avoids anything that might cause him upset,” Aphrodite added. Why were her blue eyes so intent?

“Look at her,” Hera argued. “Demeter has reason to worry…” Hera leaned forward, patting Persephone’s knee. “Sorry, dear. I only mean that it is a relief to know you’re not suffering from something more permanent.”

“Permanent?”

“From the food…” Athena shook her head.

“The food grown in Hades’ realm can only be eaten by those that reside there,” Hera explained.

“Oh, well.” She nodded. The apple she’d picked, for Orphnaeus. The apple he’d knocked from her hands…

“If you’d eaten it…” Demeter shivered, taking her hands. “I’d not think on such a thing.”

“You’ve no need to.” Athena rolled her eyes. “Shall we walk? In the gardens?”

Persephone stood, eager to find some occupation. “Oh, yes, please.”

Demeter patted her arm. “Then we shall walk.”

“There, you see.” Hera smiled and took Demeter’s arm as she spoke. “You’ve no reason to worry on that front.”

They walked on ahead, and Persephone found herself trailing behind.

“Can you blame? If it had been your Hebe, and not my Persephone… One bite would have ensured she was never free of the Underworld–”

“It matters not,” Athena’s impatience rang out. “She did
not,
not one bite. The Fates will
not
send her back… She is free. Enough. Let us enjoy the day with no more pointless worrying and carrying on.”

Persephone could not breathe. The world was spinning. Her mind was spinning.

She felt an arm, soft yet solid, slide around her waist.

“Careful,” Aphrodite murmured.

Persephone stared blindly, clinging to the Goddess. “But…” Her heart throbbed, as if some new wound had formed. “Why?”

If she’d had one bite, her fate, his fate, would have been sealed. The Fates would demand she return… As her heart demanded with its every beat.

“Men are foolish creatures, Persephone,” Aphrodite murmured, a slight smile on her lips. “I will not force my confidence upon you. But I will hear your tale without judgment... If you choose to confide in me.”

Persephone took short steps, unable to ease her grip on the Goddess.

“For now,” Aphrodite said squeezing Persephone’s hand, “Savor the warmth of the sun on this glorious day. Speak to your plants, see them grow and bloom. Love them as they love you.”

Persephone nodded, descending the steps into the most bountiful garden she’d ever seen. Her hands reached out, trailing along their plump leaves and making them rise and stretch. She watched, unable to ignore the throbbing ache in her heart. She had so much love to give. If he did not want her, she would find something, or someone, that did.

###

The mouth of the cave roared with fire brought from Tartarus. The Erinyes had been pleased to help Hades. New souls were all the enticement they needed. These souls were bound for Tartarus, for torture.

“No one leaves,” he yelled to Cerberus, Thanatos, the Erinyes, Aeacus… All fought with him, to protect his realm.

The souls poured into the cave. From translucent shells to full bodied men, the souls of Erysichthon’s army were ready for a fight. The fools did not know they were now trapped.

Behind them, the flames of Tartarus roared high, sealing the entrance and rolling over those souls bringing up the rear. Hades did not relish the look of surprise, of terror, that gripped those caught within the flames. They could feel it, the burning and pain. They’d not known the truth. Death would not end their suffering, there would be no reprieve. Such agony was their fate now, one they would never escape.

He doubted they’d known what Erysichthon had brought upon them. If they had, this pathetic attempt at rebellion would never have happened.

And yet, it was happening. And he had no more time to think.

A soldier, now the echo of his mortal form, came at him. Hades waited, the rise and fall of light within the cave his ally. As the light surged, he grabbed the weightless soul. In his hold, the soul moved, swinging his sword and kicking out at Hades. He felt a moment’s sadness, for the man’s eyes were filled with understanding.

It was all for naught. They would not bring the Underworld down. And Hades would not be merciful.

An Erinye swooped, her talon-like fingers plucking the shade from Hades’ grasp and carrying it below.

Another was on him. A fist, solid and heavy, slammed into his side. He turned, but the shade weakened and faded. With every leap of flame, its light filled the cave. Its heat devoured everything in its path.

The soul stood, knowing it was trapped. It gaped at Hades then turned, running for dark. But Cerberus was faster, and leapt, shredding the soul with poisoned teeth and dragging it to the flames.

Before Hades turned, he felt the sear of the blade slicing through his forearm. He winced, but welcomed the pain. His hand gripped the soul’s wrist, forcing it to release the weapon.

“Hades.” Hermes was at his side, pulling the sword from his arm.

“Behind you,” Hades warned, pushing Hermes aside.

An Erinye reached the soul, lifting it into the air. The soul’s screams echoed eerily in the cave. But it was the gleeful laughter of the Erinye that sent a ripple of disquiet along Hades’ spine.

Hades nodded towards the door. “It is sealed?”

“I’ve seen no one… no soul escape,” Hermes assured him.

The flames crept higher, licking the top of the cave. None would escape.

“We have won. But Poseidon must bring the rain soon,” Hermes spoke softly.

Hades forgot the soul he gripped, his rage was so great. He knew the risks of trusting his brother. But he’d thought, with such stakes at risk, even Poseidon might honor duty.

I am a bloody fool
. His mouth twisted sharply as he hissed, “Poseidon…”

“No harm has been done beyond your realm…”

He shook his head. “Not yet.” His eyes narrowed, searching the cave for what he knew he wouldn’t find. “Erysichthon?”

Hermes shook his head. “I’ve not seen him. Apollo swears he was not with his men.”

“What?” the soul gasped.

Hades looked at the man. “He left you once, to a less noble foe. It surprises you he would do so now?”

The soul stared at him, defeat lining his features. Hades would not grieve for it.

“Minos,” he called, thrusting the soul into his judge’s hands.

He left Hermes’ side, tracing the light to capture what few souls remained. As the roar of the flames died down, the Erinyes joined him. They spared no time plucking those that clung to the cave walls. The flap of their wings, the cackle of their delight accompanied the screams of men, men no more.

None would leave; he’d declared it. It would be so.

He drew in a steadying breath, his nostrils filled with a strange scent.

“Rain.” Hermes returned to him, smiling broadly. He clapped Hades on the shoulder.

The cave rumbled, thunder echoing inside the chamber as sheets of rain fell heavily upon the smoldering grass. He’d done it; Poseidon had kept his word. None of Greece would fall prey to today’s conflict. No mortal would ever know…

Hades drew in a deep breath, his relief overpowering him. He would see no more suffer this day.