That Fatal Kiss (34 page)

“I suspect Zeus would have a good reason to be vexed in this instance, wouldn’t he?”

“This time he would,” Hades agreed as they made for the palace. “As, in fact, the horses were intended as gifts for him from our brother, Poseidon.”

“Then how did they come to be in your possession?” Persephone asked, enjoying the roguish expression the god now wore.

“Hmmm, well…it appears that, just when Poseidon was about to take them up to Olympus, Dionysus appeared, bearing some ten jars of wine or so, and begged my brother to help him judge which was the better of the batch. The two proceeded to empty each and every one, and the result was that I found myself the possessor of these very fine steeds.”

Persephone laughed heartily at that. “And Poseidon did not come to reclaim them when his senses returned to him?”

“He might’ve, if it hadn’t taken his senses a full three days to put in an appearance. By then he’d utterly forgotten the steeds and for whom they’d been intended.”

“And how did you come to learn of all this?”

“I heard it from Dionysus himself.”

Persephone came to a stop, suspicion lighting her features. “Oh?”

“…when he came down here with a few jars for me...”

“Hades…?” the goddess prompted.

Assuming a comically guilty expression, he elaborated, “Shortly after leaving Poseidon, exactly as we’d planned. Now!” Hades added, as she launched into a fresh bout of chuckles at his devious trick, “let us make haste to the bathing chamber so we may
refresh
ourselves.”

“What, again?” Persephone asked, and then stumbled as a ferocious clawing of hunger raked her stomach. She pressed hard on her abdomen, as if that would quiet it, then looked up at Hades, dismayed.

Shaken out of his humor and too exhausted to be patient any longer, Hades said, “Persephone, I simply cannot bear to see you go on this way. You’re making yourself ill and I won’t have it.” He cast an eye about for something suitable and then plucked an enormous pomegranate from the nearest tree. He broke it in half and held it in front of the goddess insistently. She looked down at the luscious red seeds. They would not make for a substantial meal but managed to appear very tempting to the goddess, indeed. She looked up at Hades with luminous eyes and the fear he felt for her flooded his features. “Please,” he urged, “for your own sake, Kore,
eat
.”

PERSEPHONE VERY MUCH
wanted to please Hades—his worry for her was palpable and she hated being its cause. And now that she knew she loved him, there was no more reason to fast. It was time she shared her love and made the final commitment to him that they both desired. The goddess stared into Hades’ warm brown eyes and her lips were about to move when a shout drew their attention.

They turned as one and saw Hermes flying toward them with determined speed. His youthful features set in grim lines, he held his arm up against the rush of wind as he soared toward them and landed a few steps away. With a look of contempt for his uncle, Hermes said, “Your treacherous game is over, Hades. I am here to effect Persephone’s release. Now.”

Persephone let out a small cry of shock, then belatedly remembered the order she sent to Hecate the day before. She had neglected to retract it and the white-haired goddess proved herself trustworthy by following through on her promise. Persephone dearly wished her friend had not been quite so zealous in carrying out her duty.

Hades glowered at Hermes, setting the younger god back on his heels. Hermes shook, but assumed a righteous stance, holding his staff before him defensively.

“By whose orders?” Hades snarled, one hand closing around his wife’s upper arm.

“Your brother’s!” Hermes tossed back. He turned to Persephone and his features softened. “Persephone, have you eaten anything?”

“Not yet,” she said. The grip on her arm intensified and she wanted to somehow comfort Hades but knew she ought not in Hermes’ presence. Her mind raced wildly, though, endeavoring to determine how she could now put off her return.

Hermes took a threatening step toward Hades. “You must allow her to return to Olympus with me, then. She is not bound to remain with you if she has not tasted the fruits of Erebus.”

Persephone felt Hades’ agitation plainly at Hermes’ pronouncement. She cursed herself bitterly for forgetting her orders to Hecate and looked up at her husband with wide, distressed eyes.

His stare impassive, Hades said, “I will do as my brother commands and will even provide my own chariot for Persephone’s comfort on her journey back. But I will have a word with my wife before she leaves.”

Hermes gave a stiff nod and Hades did not spare him another glance but propelled Persephone into the small circle of pomegranate trees, blocking them from the Messenger God’s view.

Hades could not immediately speak. “Kore…” he whispered, only to choke on the endearment.

Persephone felt anguish squeeze her heart. He dare not defy Zeus, lest war be declared and punishment follow. But surely Hades would not now part with her, and the thought of what might befall him should he resist his brother’s command horrified her. Oh why, why had she so stubbornly maintained her fast? If only she’d taken even just a sip of water she would have secured her position in the Underworld.

The goddess’ eyes flew to the fruit in her husband’s hand—it wasn’t too late! All she had to do was consume one pomegranate seed and Hades’ claim on her could never be contested. She looked back up to his face, eager to tell him of her resolution and love, but Hades spoke first.

“Kore,” he repeated with a shaking voice, “I chose you for my bride, for all the reasons I have already given. But having had you by my side, having experienced but a taste of bliss, I know my heart will rend itself if I lose you now.” Releasing her arm, his hand went to stroke her face. “My beautiful, compassionate, valiant wife,” he continued, “how I do love you. I cannot bear the thought of eternity without you. I chose you, but now…you must choose for yourself.” He held the fruit up to her again. “If you have any tender feeling for me whatsoever, if you think you could ever come to love me…please…eat but one seed of this pomegranate. Let your future be merged with mine by this covenant. I have much to learn, I own it. I need you to teach me—” His voice broke again and he shut his eyes. “If you could ever love me, I would devote myself to ensuring your happiness forever more.”

The pain in her heart swelling impossibly, Persephone looked down at the translucent seeds. She recalled her stunned self-discovery in their bathing chamber that morning, and her lips spread in a broad smile. “Oh, my darling husband…”

At that, Hades’ eyes flew open.

Persephone laid her hand against his face. “Hades, I
adore
you, my true and only love.” She reached into the pomegranate and scooped out three tiny seeds. “And I do choose to be yours, now and always.”

Barely breathing, Hades watched as Persephone placed the seeds on the tip of her tongue and swallowed them. Then the fruit fell to the ground as he swept her into his arms, their lips meeting in a fevered kiss. Only Hermes’ impatient cries that Persephone hasten recalled them to their senses. Drawing back, Persephone brushed a tear from her face, but whether it’d been hers or his, she could not tell. “You will come for me again,” she said, nodding as she spoke.

“You may rely upon it,” Hades affirmed gruffly.

“Then I’ll see you on Olympus,” she breathed, giving his cheek a longing kiss before running to join Hermes. Turning as she ran, she repeated his earlier admonition to her, “Tarry not!”

HADES GAVE HIS
wife a hopeful smile as she left him. He watched Persephone join her angry escort and called for a servant to ready his chariot for them. Hades gave instructions for its return, dashed back up the palace steps, and prepared for his own trip to Olympus. Summoning Ione, he had her take down messages to be delivered to Eros, Hephaestus, Apollo, Dionysus, and Hecate, and ordered that his finest garments be readied. He next headed for the bathing chamber, grasping various bottles of lotions and ointments that Hecate had given him to use “whenever they should be required.” He eyed himself critically in the gleaming mirror, determined to use every charm, every bit of magic available to him, to reclaim his wife. After all, he hadn’t been up to Olympus in ages, and he was determined to make an impression. Especially upon Demeter.

XXII.

Mount Etna, Sicily

AS HER HUSBAND’S
chariot broke through the crevasse and into the sunny Upperworld, Persephone held on to its side with one hand, shielding her eyes with the other. Though Hermes offered her his arm for anchor, she preferred to keep aside. She was not angry with him for she knew he was under orders from Zeus and could not do other than as he was instructed. She could not even blame him for his anger on her behalf, even if it was fueled by unrealistic expectations. But things were different now. She was different. Where she had once felt some affinity with Hermes, she now felt a distance. Whether it was due to her maturation or because of her allegiance to Hades, she could not be sure. Perhaps it was more of the latter, for she was certain she could no longer tolerate any of the customarily derogatory things Hermes had to say about her husband. If Hermes’ feelings for her ran very deeply indeed, Persephone suspected that his habitual attacks upon Hades’ character would intensify. So she kept away from him, quiet, lost in thought. If she could not bear to hear Hermes speak ill of Hades, she would be unable to withstand the same from her mother, who would have nothing but resentment to express over what the King of the Dead had done.

Persephone sighed unhappily, even as she breathed in the sweet air of the Upperworld she once revered. As they soared toward Mount Etna, Persephone’s eyes squinted against the glare of Apollo’s solar chariot, thinking to herself that he ought to dim his light just a bit. She smiled at herself for the thought, marveling at how like her husband she had become. Or had she always been?

The goddess cast her eyes down, taking in the blackened and dusty Earth below, remembering the ecstasy she once felt roaming the formerly verdant lands and now feeling somewhat disenchanted. She knew, for Hermes told her everything that transpired in her absence with the zeal of a true gossip, that her mother had laid waste upon the land, preventing growth and nourishment for the mortals and their livestock. She did not wonder at Demeter’s vehemence. Of course she would loose her fury, uncaring who was affected, until she got what she wanted. Knowing too that Demeter would not take kindly to the news that she would have to part with her daughter yet again, Persephone felt a stirring of anxiety in the very bowels of her being. She wished fervently that the whole thing was over with so she could rejoin Hades for their pre-empted bath.

Hades’ chariot descended upon the very same spot where Persephone last beheld her sisters. They stood there now, as did her mother, Hecate, and Hestia. Persephone was surprised to see the Hearth Goddess so far from Olympus and hoped her presence would serve to keep her mother calm.

As they dropped down, Persephone noted that Hermes’ handling of Thunder and Lightning lacked the mastery of her husband’s. The youthful god’s voice was shrill as he called out his commands to the steeds and they landed roughly, due to Hermes’ miscalculations. Persephone subdued her features, hoping to prevent her scorn for Hermes’ lack of skill from becoming evident. It proved difficult, however, for Persephone to maintain her neutrality with Hermes displaying such effusive regard for her. He helped her disembark, with a hot, sweaty palm against the small of her back. Persephone fought against the need to shrug it off but did manage to step away from his grasp. Hermes looked down at her, one arm rising awkwardly, as if intending to go round Persephone in an embrace. She took another step backwards and his arm fell against his side. They opened their mouths to speak at the same time and their words stumbled over one another’s.