Destroyer of Light (21 page)

“You
have
to say something!”

“How can I?” Askalaphos brushed his fingers through his thin black curls again. “Do you have any idea what this means?”

Menoetes hushed his voice and whispered low. “It means that she stays! It means that they can do nothing to take her from us! And you intend to keep quiet and let her go, you fool?”

“
I’m
the fool, Menoetes? Can you even conceive of what will happen if anyone learns what she’s done? There will be war. A war to end the cosmos! Everything will
die in fire
. And not just in the corporeal world, but here as well. You and me, our mothers, all the nymphs of the Cocytus and the Styx, the Lampades, even Nyx and Erebus!”

“It cannot be as dire as all that, Askalaphos. Now, come with me. We’ll find Lady Hecate or Morpheus and get this sorted out.”

“Please, we
cannot
go to
anyone
with this. I am not going to be known as the one who ended the world!”

“No, you will not, Askalaphos,” a voice above them said.

The broken pomegranate fell from the gardener’s hands and he stumbled back, gazing up into the darkness above. Nyx drifted down, bathed in moonlight, to hover inches above the ground. She picked up the open fruit, examining it. A smile crossed her face and she brushed her hand through the wavering edges of the darkness that cloaked her and trailed upward into the mists and Erebus beyond.

“So she did,” she said, answering the silent voice of her husband.

Askalaphos and Menoetes were bowed to one knee before Lady Nyx. The gardener stammered. “M-milady, please. I o-only wanted to—”

“Rise, Askalaphos,” she said, a smile still decorating her face.

The gardener swallowed, on the verge of tears, fearing that he was about to be annihilated by the ancient goddess. “I knew I couldn’t keep it a secret forever, milady, I… only… wanted to…”

She tittered. “After all these aeons, none of you seem to understand that
we see all
. My brothers and sisters and I are the earth and the waters and the air; the light, the darkness and the ether itself. Erebus and I already saw what was done. And we knew that it
would
be done.”

Askalaphos permitted himself to relax, and Menoetes stopped cowering, rising slowly with the aid of his staff.

“We saw our little queen sneak out as though no one could see her. But it is night here, and I
am night
.” Nyx laughed again and clasped her hands around the pomegranate, gazing in the direction of the grove. “Those dear little ones. Their intrigues are never hidden from us. Oh, they try, though!”

The gardener swallowed. “Then… if you don’t mind my asking, Lady Nyx, what are you planning to do about it?”

The goddess gave him a serene smile and held out the pomegranate for Askalaphos. He gingerly took it and cradled it close.

“Persephone ate six seeds from this pomegranate. You yourself witnessed it, son of Orphne.” She drifted slowly upward. “So it is not what
I
plan to do, Askalaphos, but what you
will
do.”

“Anything, milady,” he said nervously.

“Meet my eldest son at the river. And go quickly. You don’t have much time.”

***

“One obol… one obol… one obol…” Shades filed into Charon’s empty vessel. The Boatman’s incessant request for fares was the only thing Hermes could hear. The God of Thieves turned ghostly white and felt like he was about to collapse. What was to become of him?
Burn… flay… geld
… the words cycled again through his mind.

“You have nothing to fear,” Persephone said softly as Charon pushed off from the shore with another boatload of shades. She released Hermes’s wrist from her grasp and he let out a breath he’d forgotten he was holding.

The Messenger stood stock still on the water’s edge as Hades’s chariot thundered to the ground. Aidoneus pulled the reins and brought it to a sudden halt, then stepped off the back. The God of the Dead wasn’t dressed for battle. He still wore his himation and crown of poplar leaves instead of his greaves and cuirass and Helm of Darkness. He had no sword. Hermes cautiously relaxed.

Aidoneus walked to the small gathering of gods by the Styx. Shades all around them fell to their knees before the King and Queen. He stopped in front of Hermes. “I’ve heard stories about you stealing chariots. I assume you know how to drive one of these?”

Hermes gulped in air around the fig-sized lump in his throat. “Y-yes, my lord.”

“Good. You will take Persephone and Hecate to the world above in my chariot. It will be faster. Faster than even
you
, as you well know.”

Hermes nodded.

“Heed my words and wishes, Messenger. Regardless of what you were told, Persephone returns as a queen. My queen. Bring the cart and horses to me once you are done. Is that understood?”

Hermes nodded again in affirmation, dumbstruck and relieved. Hades curtly acknowledged him, then approached Hecate.

“Stay with her and keep her safe?” he said softly. “Please?”

“Of course, Aidoneus,” Hecate said, and embraced him. He stood like a plank, unmoving. She drew back and looked up at him, her eyes swimming. “My dear child, don’t lose hope so quickly. We have not yet reached the widest part of the river. Much remains of today.”

He wrinkled his eyebrows, perplexed.

“I expect to see you soon,” she said with a nod. Aidon cleared his throat, correctly guessing what Hecate meant.

He turned slowly toward his wife, his queen, the woman he had loved and longed for through half his life, who stood proud and tall, trying to keep her lower lip from quivering. Aidoneus gathered her up in his embrace, tilting her back until her weight was supported by his arms alone, her neck cradled in one strong hand. His mouth brushed over hers, then locked against her lips. Persephone touched his face, and then smoothed back the black curls of his hair with her fingers. One of her digits wound around the lock that was never properly caught up when he tied back his hair. She mewled and shuddered, fearing that this was their last kiss.
Don’t be sad, my love
, his voice said in her mind.
This is not goodbye.

Persephone smiled against his lips. Aidoneus would follow her; she knew he would. She melted, opening to him, her tongue twining against his. He deepened their kiss with a soft and hungry growl. He drew her closer and she could feel the heat of his body and the beat of his heart through his heavy cloak. His mouth claimed hers harder and she wondered if he could taste pomegranate in their kiss.

Aidoneus pulled away from her lips reluctantly and spoke low, staring directly at her, soaking up his last vision of her in his arms. “Go, Persephone, to your dark-robed mother. Go…” he swallowed, willing himself to continue. Aidon forced a smile and brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “Do not be too upset. Take heart. Be strong. No matter what they say I will always be your husband. You will always,
always
be my wife… my queen…”

Persephone framed his face with her hand again, brushing away a tear that escaped his eye.

…And I will be right behind you
.

Her heart leapt into her throat and she tried to keep herself from smiling. Her eyes gave her away only to him. Aidon lifted her upright and reluctantly released her.

“Go…” Aidon whispered.

Persephone took a step back from him and walked to the chariot. Hecate offered her hand, and she stepped up into the basket. Hermes shook the reins and they were off, a thin cloud of dust twisting in their wake as they distanced themselves from the river. Soon the wheels and coursers lifted off the ground and the trailing dust was replaced by dark, ethereal smoke.

Aidoneus watched them until the crown of asphodel on her head and the glint of moonlight from the chariot wheels disappeared into the dark caverns beyond. He waited until he could hear the horse’s hooves no more.

Something inside of him gave way and he let out a sharp exhale of air he’d been holding back. It burned like acid. His throat tightened and he doubled over. The sounds around him were unbearable. He could hear the souls in Asphodel crying and wailing. Cerberus whined as though he were injured, and he could even hear the Keres in Tartarus gnashing and screaming, unable to fathom that their queen was gone. He joined in their grief, his sobs coming slowly at first as he tried to hold them back, then wrenching his whole body. He dropped to his knees, lost.

He had agreed to witness his wife’s last plea with Zeus. But Aidoneus knew Zeus. The King of the Gods wouldn’t let her return with him— not with the lives of all the mortals at stake. If their positions were reversed, Hades wouldn’t either. And Demeter’s stubbornness and resentment knew no bounds. It grew hard to breathe, and he tried to calm himself again and take hold of some sense of order. He dug his fingers into the gray sands and gravel of Chthonia and he tightened his fist until he felt the rocks digging painfully into his skin. He roughly wiped his eyes with his himation and took in a deep breath, letting go of the gravel and brushing the sand off on his thigh. She would need all the strength he had to offer to support her doomed petitioning, and he would need all his resolve to let her go once all reasonable hope was lost.

Persephone wouldn’t accept it, though. Despite his insistence that she not defy the rules, he was certain he would find her stepping through the ether and into their bedroom during some moonless night in the world above, and that she would be punished for it. He closed his eyes, trying to will away visions of what the gods of Olympus might do to her to keep her from disobeying and rebelling.

He listened to the pleas and cries of Asphodel. This realm needed a Queen. It needed her more that it needed him, in truth. Demeter wouldn’t let her return here. A dark truth crossed his mind. Demeter wouldn’t let her return
to him
. He opened his eyes again, and surveyed his realm— her realm. He’d follow her, but when he returned he would have to make sure that she wouldn’t be tempted to come back to him.

He thought about Erebus. Aidoneus had never met Nyx’s consort— he had become the darkness while Hades was still imprisoned, and had done so to save his children from Kronos’s wrath after their rebellion, aeons before the Titanomachy, had failed.

Hades would have to do the same to save his wife. He smiled ruefully. His beloved was so wonderfully obstinate and would attempt again and again to journey back to him. And back to her throne-- this realm needed Persephone as its queen. But Demeter’s wrath was fixed against him, and always would be. It dawned on him: both of these things needed to be, so he would simply remove himself from the paradox.

Aidoneus shook his head. Persephone would be inconsolable, and furious at him as well.

Perhaps he could find
some
way to still be with her once he was one with his realm. Erebus wound himself about his lady wife, eternally embracing her. Aidoneus knew it needed to be done as soon as he returned. He wouldn’t risk the possibility that she would be punished on his account. Chthonia would have its Queen, Demeter would have her assurance that he would never touch her again, and all would be right. His purpose had already been fulfilled, he mused. He had helped depose the Titans, and he had given the Underworld its rightful ruler. His usefulness to this cosmos was surely ended.

His resolve renewed, Aidoneus took a deep breath and stretched his hand out toward the caverns ahead.

“Aidoneus! My king!”

He heard his name called faintly behind him, almost lost amidst the weeping shades and his three-headed hound’s endless yowling. The voice cracked and called out again.

“Lord Hades! Wait! Wait!”

Had someone read his thoughts? Were they determined to keep him from following in Erebus’s footsteps?

“Aidon! Not yet!” A second voice above the din, this time Charon’s.

Aidoneus turned toward the Styx, squinting in the darkness at a faint lamp hovering above the water. He heard the oar plunging and splashing, ripples forming all around the boat, its wake cutting deep into the water. Aboard the boat was Askalaphos, jumping up and down.

“My lord!”

“Stop hopping around, you idiot! Do you want to tip us over?” Charon hissed at him.

Aidoneus ran for the water’s edge. As he drew nearer he saw the gardener hold something aloft that stopped him in his tracks. “Oh gods above, sweet one, you didn’t…” he muttered to himself. He remembered the berry sweet taste of her kiss, and the heady scent, almost like wine, mingled with hers in his very clothes. “Why didn’t she tell me?”

Askalaphos held a pomegranate. A well-eaten pomegranate, at that: its flesh was torn and seeds were missing. The gardener hopped out of the boat too soon and landed almost waist deep in the water, wading into the shallows and up to the shore. His teeth chattered from the cold. “L-Lord Hades! The Queen… she ate six s-seeds!”

Askalaphos prostrated himself and held the fruit up for the Lord of the Underworld’s inspection. Aidon grabbed it from his hand, wide-eyed. This certainly wasn’t the pomegranate he’d eaten yesterday morning. This was new. And it was hers. “Persephone…” He lifted Askalaphos up by his chlamys, almost shaking him. “Are you certain?”