The Dark Wife (17 page)

Cerberus chose that inopportune moment to bat at our arms with his clumsy paws.

Hades broke away, laughed a little, shaking her head in mock annoyance at the unremorseful creature.

I stared at the goddess of the Underworld, speechless, spellbound, flushed—until Cerberus pawed at my arm again, and I couldn’t help it—I laughed, too. We smiled at each other and pet his sweet trio of heads, and we sat, knee to knee, cradled by tussocks of hardened earth. Cerberus crawled between us and began to slug around a tinkling shard of crystal with paws that were already large and would, someday, be monstrously huge.
Along with the rest of him.

“Where did he come from?” My voice was hoarse with emotion. Hades touched my knee, traced secret patterns over the fabric of my tunic. It was a familiar, fond touch, and it made me shiver.

“Echidna,” Hades said then, and I shook my head, uncomprehending.

She smiled at me, leaned against an outcropping of stone. “Echidna is a monster; she nests beneath the Underworld. She has many monstrous children, and she suckles them there.
For Zeus.”
Hades caught my eye and sighed, with a small shrug of her shoulders.
“Monsters for the gods’ amusement, monsters to pit heroes against, so they can prove their mettle.
Divine entertainment.”
She tickled the puppy beneath one of his chins. “But Cerberus was always intended for me—promised, before he was born.”

“He seems…well, just like any other puppy. He looks like a miniature monster, but he’s as sweet as a lamb.” Cerberus licked my hand
furiously,
tail wagging, while I spoke about him.

“I hope you can keep him that way. He was only just born… He hasn’t suckled Echidna’s poisonous milk. I made certain of it.”

“Thank you, Hades.” I didn’t know what else to say.

He was a priceless gift, and I loved him dearly. I petted his three heads, gazed down into his sleepy, puppy eyes and felt
a deep
, abiding warmth spread out from my heart to envelop him. He wiggled and rolled onto his back and pillowed one of his heads on my leg.

“I promised to tell you my story,” said Hades then, so quietly. “Would you like to hear it now?”

I stared, perplexed, at Hades, the taste of her still lingering on my lips, and she stared back at me, at my eyes, my mouth.

“Yes, please tell me.” I reached out for her hand, and she gave it to me, smiling warmly, and stroked her thumb over my skin.

“I don’t know where to begin.”

I inhaled and squeezed her hand; her voice was trembling.

“Zeus and I were ‘brother’ and ‘sister’—as much as divinely created beings, embodiments of power, can be brother and sister. We heralded together, with Poseidon, the start of a new era. We were our mother’s shining children.”

“You have a mother,” I breathed, stunned. I couldn’t imagine a time without the three elder gods; I had assumed that they had simply always been.

“In a sense.
We were…created.” Hades’ eyes roamed the shallow crevices of the cave’s walls. “We were made for spite’s sake, but—our mother loved us. I should explain…

“Before the world was made, there was darkness and dark land, and, above, the beautiful heavens.” She held out her free hand, palm up, and above it,
a
golden light began to glow. “The dark land was called Gaea, the mother of all things. She had existed always, and she would always exist. She loved her husband, the sky—Uranus—with a holy love, and together they created the earth.

“First, she had six sons and six daughters. These were the Titans, and they were beautiful creatures. Uranus and Gaea adored them. But Gaea had more children and more children, each one uglier than the one before, and Uranus was jealous that Gaea lavished her love on such hideous things. So he took his hated children and cast them into the deepest, darkest pit inside of Gaea—
Tartarus
.”

Silent, amazed, I watched as the light quivering over Hades’ hand separated, dimmed, reformed into spheres of darkness.

“Gaea was angry at Uranus for this betrayal, and she made a dagger of the hardest metals from her heart. She gave it to her firstborn children, the beautiful ones, and begged them to slay their father. But the Titans were afraid and hid themselves away—save one, the bravest,
Cronus
. He obeyed
Gaea’s
wish, took up the dagger and brutally attacked Uranus.

“Uranus was crippled and disgraced by his son, and he went…away.

“Gaea took Pontus, the ocean, as her new lover, and she asked
Cronus
to free his brothers and sisters from the pit of
Tartarus
. But
Cronus
was drunk on the power of defeating his father, and he refused.”

The spheres of darkness inflated, revealed silhouettes of tormented faces, weeping silently. I ducked my head, heart beating too fast. The history I had thought I’d known was untrue. There was a beginning before the beginning, and it was rooted in cruelty.

“
Cronus
loved a woman—a beautiful, beautiful woman.” Hades’ eyes gleamed, and I watched a tear slip from her eye. “Her name was Rhea. She was my mother.” She let go of my hand with a soft squeeze and crossed her arms over her chest; the spheres vanished.

“
Cronus
knew that his children would be even more powerful than he, and so history would repeat itself—son defeating father.” Hades’ face hardened now, the planes of her cheeks rigid. “Rhea gave birth to five children, and
Cronus
devoured each of them whole.”

She paused for a moment, and I slid beside her, lay my hand upon her leg. I puzzled the pieces of her story together in my head and hoped I was mistaken.

“You…you were one of the five? You were devoured by
Cronus
?”

She nodded.

“We spent a hundred years in his belly, Poseidon and Hestia and Hera and me, and your own mother, Persephone. Demeter was there, too.”

I gasped. “How…how is that possible?” I pressed a hand over my heart, as if to stop up the pain. It had to be true; Hades said it was true. But how had I never known? My mother…

Cerberus was sprawled against my legs, licking my feet, and now I swept him up into my arms, held him close. But he struggled from my grasp and resettled on my lap, grunted, snuffled with his nose, and closed his eyes, instantly asleep.

“We don’t remember much from that time,” Hades continued. “When Rhea produced her sixth child, she knew she had to stop the cycle, do something to protect the baby… She didn’t want this child to suffer. So she begged Gaea to hide him away, and Gaea agreed.

“That baby was Zeus, and he grew up wild, safe and free, under
Gaea’s
protection.

“As always, Gaea had a plan. She raised Zeus herself, trained him to be powerful beyond measure—powerful enough to strike down his father.
Cronus
was tricked, became sick, and he had no choice but to remove us from his belly. We emerged fully grown and strong, and when we found Zeus, we joined him in declaring war upon the Titans. Together, the six of us—we were unstoppable.”

Hades bit her lip, gazed at me with an apologetic smile. “Do you want to hear more, Persephone? It’s a harsh tale, and…” She traced her fingers over my cheek, over my neck, awakening a new surge of passion within me. “I could finish it another time.”

But this story was important, to her and to me, and I urged her to go on. “I want to know, Hades. I want to know everything about you.”

For a long moment, she watched me, her eyes flicking over my face, her lips curving softly. Finally, she nodded and stared out at the darkness surrounding us. “We released
Gaea’s
ugly sons and daughters from the pit of
Tartarus
. Gaea was so pleased with us. The Titans didn’t stand a chance. It was the bloodiest battle, the most vicious…” Her voice trailed off, and she was silent for several thudding heartbeats.
“Darkness incarnate.
That’s what it was.”

She looked up. “But it was over, the Titans had lost, and in glory and undefeated, Zeus banished them to
Tartarus
. Gaea…she was so angry. She tried to get Zeus to reconsider—with violence. She created the most fearsome monsters she could imagine,
Typhon
and his mate, Echidna, to destroy Zeus. But they were defeated, too, and Gaea… Gaea gave up.” Hades shifted, sighed, and Cerberus woke for a moment, sneezed, fell off of my lap, and then was asleep again.

“In the end, we gathered, victorious. But it was an empty victory. We all knew it, all of us but Zeus. He was mad with power.

“We divided the kingdoms of the world amongst us, and that’s when I saw him truly, knew him for what he was.”

“You all fought together,” I whispered. “You defeated the Titans together. It wasn’t Zeus alone. You were equals, all of you. Why haven’t you fought back?” I couldn’t help myself. The injustice sparked a fire of rage within me. Zeus—how I hated him in that moment, with all that I was, with all that I ever was. My hate burned and ached and clawed and ravaged. For once, just once, I wanted him to suffer, as everyone who ever knew him suffered. I wanted to inflict him pain, wanted to erase that gloating smile from his mouth forever.

I shook, my hands clenched into fists, until Hades touched me, gently, gently, her fingers grazing my bared shoulder. I shuddered, crawled toward her, melted into her, my face pressed against her chest.

“Why did you let him do this to you?” I whispered. “How could you let him hurt you so much, Hades? You were powerful—you
are
powerful.”

She traced looping patterns upon the palms of my hand.

“I don’t know,” she said quietly. “It never mattered to me, what happened to me. I didn’t…care. And I’m close to Gaea—despite all that happened, she adopted me, became a sort of mother to me, when Rhea was banished away. She…she’s become something more now. She’s different, changing. I can’t blame her for the horrors that happened so long ago. As much as I’ve hated Zeus—and I’ve hated him, Persephone—I’ve learned to forgive him, too. Gaea has forgiven him. Nothing stays the same forever. Nothing can.”

I leaned toward her, and she nuzzled against my ear, her breath warm. “There will come a time when I am no longer needed in this place. It has been foretold. I’ve bided my time, waiting.”

Hades pressed her lips against my neck, kissed me. “And you, Persephone… You were foretold, too. I never wanted anything—” her mouth moved softly, gently over my skin “—until I wanted you.”

I sat up and looked upon her face, her plain, dear, beautiful face, with her long, straight nose and her solemn eyes. I found perfection in every feature, though it was her heart I loved best.

When she drew her hand through my hair and gently pressed her mouth to mine, I drank her in like nectar, deep and deeper until all was red and ruby, and her skin, her hands, her mouth burned me up. I was an ember, bright, flame and fire, burning from the exquisite scorch of finger, tongue.

I was made over, made beautiful beneath her touch, and my soul cried out for her, to her, fiercely. I broke away, breathing hard, and the goddess of the dead gazed at me as if I were the loveliest creature she had ever seen, and hers, hers alone.

For the first time, I could read her fathomless eyes. I saw love there, and I touched her, had to touch her. I gathered her face in my hands, whispered a silent prayer of gratitude to the stars, to myself, as I kissed her lips.

The memory of
Charis
rose within me, and though there was still pain, deep pain, I discovered something else: peace. I had loved and lost, and now… Love had found me again, brought me back to life in the land of the dead.

“What are you thinking?” Hades asked when we drew apart, when I stared into her eyes and knew—knew all I’d ever need to know.

“Nothing,” I said truthfully.
“Just feeling.”

Cerberus had wandered away, and we watched him now lift his leg against the cave wall. “Unmannered beast,” Hades laughed, and he galloped into her arms. “We should take him up to the palace…”