Page 39

We are too far to hear the lovers now as I ponder Hades’ words. It’s a devastating thought to know how many souls live time and time again in search of their other half. In search of a completion that many fail to find in centuries of trying.

“I think I hate Zeus.” I don’t mean for the words to escape audibly. They were a thought that I meant to keep as such. I cool with dread now that they are between us. I amend, “I don’t know how, if he’s so evil, that people don’t see him for what he is. How can he still be the God who is worshiped as King of Gods even in myth when he’s the one at the root of all pain?” I huff. “It’s infuriating.”

“Zeus has been King of Gods for millennia. Homo Sapiens were made in Zeus’ image. I explained before, the other species of people in which your scientists have found, were crafted by Prometheus. Homo sapiens, made in Zeus’ image, first must see these evils within themselves before they can amend them and recognize them in others. In rulers. In Gods.”

Hades continues, “Take the desire for riches, for example. Zeus commands a realm of gold. The stone of Olympus, closer to the sun, is forged into gold; a conduit of power that feeds the whole of the city. He is showered daily with wealth and luxury and envy, of which much of humanity in the living realm inherently craves.” Hades pauses. “It is not that these cravings are wrong, because they aren’t. They are simply much harder to see to fruition while taking a morally correct path, for the morally correct path is also the path in which the seeker must suffer the most to grow. One must first recognize that there is an easier path to these cravings, paved in evil, andchooseto take the longer, more difficult path to greatness. They must recognize the evil that exists within them—for it exists in us all—andchoosegood. This is how evil is recognized and fought, for one cannot recognize what does not exist within themselves. One cannot fight what threatens them if they do not see it.”

“But if evil lives in us all, shouldn’t we be able to see it? Shouldn’t we be able to fight it?”

“Therein lies the problem. Humanity must accept that evil exists, they must see it for what it is, and choose good. If they ignore evil, ignore a very clear wrong being perpetuated in the name of greed or to ensure an easier life for one at the cost of the pain of many, that is evil. If humanity continues to allow governments to push laws in which favor only some and harm others, that is evil. If humanity ignores the suffering of the innocent for the rights of the man,that is evil. That is what perpetuates the wicked. That is what continues the cycle. And that is how Gods such as Zeus remain in power.” Hades tightens his hold around my waist. “Revolution comes with great sacrifice. A mental shift in which suffering is inevitable. Humanity does not like to suffer.”

“But they are suffering already.”

“Yes, they are. And the time will come eventually when the suffering is so great, its continuation becomes more feared than the cost that will be paid in the shift for good. For right. For fair and equal.” Hades tightens his hold around my waist, closing the small gap between us. “I believe with your return to me—to the realms—that we are on the cusp of this great change.”

Despite my dry throat, I swallow. Staring forward, my attention is caught by the burning glow of Asphodel City. It is a city surrounded by rolling meadows of white blossoms with tiny glowing hearts. Bordering the city of ancient stone are massive trees with twisted limbs that stretch in every direction, adornedwith round green leaves that twitter softly in the warm breeze. The sound is similar to crickets.

Despite the ominous lingering of our previous conversation, the chirping melody of the leaves that dance on the gnarled limbs of the ancient trees is relaxing.

I let my head fall back against Hades’ broad chest, sighing into the everlasting night. Asphodel City is truly stunning. It is ringed by a cobbled path that branches between buildings into the city heart. Buildings and homes are assembled with plaster and stone and adorned with wrought iron balconies and hand-crafted shutters of wood and iron, some stained, some painted in bright colors that glow under the flame.

It doesn’t take long to realize that the city is built on a city that is built on a city. The sounds of life are abundant within this home of the dead. Laughter and banter, children playing freely and lovers loving. As we travel deeper into the heart, I can’t help but note the ceiling. It shimmers with the same stars that illuminate the Underworld, illuminating the deeper parts of the city in the same glow of night that paints the rest of the realm.

“How is this possible?”

“It is as it’s always been.” Alastor moves easily through the wide streets of the city, deeper into the heart. We pass markets where people gather whipped butter and breads into little woven baskets beside fresh fruits.

As we pass a stand of little cakes, my stomach makes itself embarrassingly known.

Amusement hitches Hades’ voice. “Would you like one?”

“No.”

“Persephone.”

“I’m not lying.Idon’t want one.” I huff. “Your daughters do, though.”

He laughs, low and rich. Alastor stops and Hades swings himself down before reaching up to pull me from the horse.People—soulspause to watch as Hades pulls me closer to the stand of cakes where an old man with ruddy red cheeks and happy blue eyes practically bounces with excitement.

Hades nods. “Good to see you again, Elio.”

“Si! Salve. Vuoi una torta?”

My jaw drops. I don’t speak Italian, but I somehow know what he said.

Hades looks to me, one brow raised. I stutter, but only for a moment. Then I point to the lemony yellow cake with the buttery yellow icing piped to look like a dream. “I would love that one, please.”

“Si!” Elio gathers the cake, handing it to me in a little box.

I thank him, and with treat in hand, Hades lifts me back onto Alastor. I twist to glance back at Hades. “He was speaking Italian.”

“He was.”

“I understood him.”

Hades’ lips twitch. “The Underworld translates.”

“Wow.”