Page 48 of Elysium

SHE DIDN’T SLEEP… How was she supposed to? Her mind raced, unraveling every word her husband had spoken, every fragment of knowledge she possessed about the god of the underworld.

Odysseus clung to her, fisting the sheets that wrapped around them both, clinging to her as if she would slip away if he wasn’t careful. It was with great effort that she freed herself from his arms.

She hesitated at the edge of the bed, breath held, waiting, watching. Odysseus did not stir. He would never allow this. She had to do it now, tonight.

Before she lost her nerve.

Quickly swiping her husband’s dagger, Penelope took to the halls of the palace. After twenty years in this home, she knew each turn like the back of her hands. She kept to the shadows, and though she encountered no one, she couldn’t help but feel like she had eyes on her.

She slipped into the dark room, the candle on the table close to fading. The old man slept soundly, oblivious to her presence. She shut the door as quietly as she could, gliding across the room.

“Icarius,” she spat, pressing the dagger to the sleeping man’s throat as she loomed over him. “Get up.”

“Daughter,” he croaked, stiffening beneath the blade. “What in the hells are you doing?

“I said, get up.” Putting pressure on the dagger, she heard her father gasp beneath her.

Icarius shuffled. She withdrew the dagger from his neck, allowing him room to stand. “What in the hells are you doing, woman?” He hissed at her, rubbing his throat.

“Why did you come to my home?” Her eyes were hardened, void of emotion. “Why are you here, father ?”

“I told you,” he mused, gaining his bravado back slowly. “Hades wanted to…” he stalled, “ensure your husband understood the consequences of tricking the god of the underworld.”

“Why you ?” She snapped. The tightness in her shoulders caused her to shake. “You’re no one, Icarius. Not in the greater scheme. Not to Odysseus, not to Hades. Why did he pick you?”

It was her father’s turn to laugh, his eyes darkening as he looked upon his daughter. “Why not?” He mocked. “Uncle to Helen of Troy, Father-in-Law to Trojan hero, Odysseus of Ithaca. My kin have sent many men to the god of the dead’s gates, who better?”

“What did he promise you?”

“You assume something had to be vowed for me to act?”

“Yes, Father , I do.”

Icarius sneered, eyes narrowing. “Only a fool would pass up the chance to start life anew, child.”

Penelope huffed, a scowl crossing her face, “A fool indeed, Father. Why did you demand an audience with me?”

“I had to get you away from that scoundrel of a king, daughter. You don’t know that man, not like I do. I have heard stories of his time at war.” His gaze did not leave hers, did not abate. “I had to try to bring my daughter to her senses. Can you fault an old man for trying to make amends?”

Penelope laughed into the darkness, the sound echoing off of the chamber walls. “I can fault you for many things. I will fault you for many things.” She raised the dagger again, leveling it between his eyes. “And I will not hesitate to run you through, should you speak of my king again.”

Icarius shook his head. “Ever the simple girl, so easily manipulated by a pretty face, a good lay.”

“Summon Hades. Whatever he has asked you to do, to deliver, call him here.” She hissed, eyes narrowing. “I tire of speaking to you.”

Icarius bellowed a laugh. “You think I can summon the god of death?”

Penelope did not falter. “He sent you here, did he not? Tell him I want an audience.” Her eyes never left the man. “That or… I can drive this dagger through your gut and let you bleed out on my castle floor.”

Her father did not lose his scowl as he turned from her. Lifting his own dagger from his bedside, he drew the blade across his palm, allowing the blood to drip into a shallow vase. “I hope you know what you’re asking for, girl.”

All the light was snuffed from the room. A suffocating dark enveloped them almost instantly. Penelope took the moment to steady herself, to focus herself on the endgame.

As fast as the light disappeared, a ball of energy emerged in the center of the room, a figure stepping out. “Well, well, well.”

A shudder ran down her spine at the sound of the god’s voice. It was deep, resonating. She could feel his words in every fiber of her being. “So… this is the woman for whom Odysseus of Ithaca was willing to deliver hundreds of souls to my door.”

Penelope avoided his gaze, opting instead to keep her eyes trained on her wringing hands. “Lord Hades,” she spoke, breathless, “Thank you for coming.”

“And what could the queen of Ithaca want from me?” He mused, circling around her as she stood.

“My husband…” Penelope took a deep breath, her voice trembling. “He told me of your dealings, of your demands.”

“And so his wife is here to beg for his life, is that it?” He crept ever closer. She could have reached out and touched his tunic if she dared. “Tell me, woman, what it is you have summoned me for.”

“Lord Hades,” she started, clenching her hands into fists at her side. “I want to… I want to extend the deal, make an addendum.”

The god of the underworld laughed . He reached forward, gripping her chin, forcing her to meet his soulless eyes. “This can’t be the same woman that unraveled the suitors… You’ll have to do better than teary eyes and trembling hands, little queen.”

Penelope bolstered herself, squaring her shoulders, making herself bigger. “I cannot be without him, Lord. You must understand.”

“Understand-”

“Do you feel no grief when Persephone returns to her mother?” She interrupted him, eyes widening as she did. “I’m sorry,” she winced, shutting her eyes tight.

“You dare to presume how my wife and I handle our separations? You dare to relate to my kingdom, my queen?” There was an undeniable anger in his words, in his poise.

Penelope bit down on the inside of her lip to keep from grinning.

“Never, your highness, never.” She said, shaking her head, eyes drifting back to the ground.

“I only meant... I could not bear to live in such grief, my lord.

And surely, you, of all beings, know how unbearable it is to be parted from one's beloved.”

Hades took a step backwards. “Foolish woman,” Penelope’s breath caught. “Say what you want, queen.”

“Lord Hades, I want to leave this plane with my husband.” Her voice was still quiet, still withdrawn.

The lord of the underworld laughed again. “A woman who wants to follow her husband into death? Hardly a novel concept, Ithacan. Just put a dagger to your breast and end your life.”

She shook her head, clutching at the fabric of her dress. “No, no, I want more.”

“More?”

“I want to make a deal, Hades.” She inhaled deeply. “My life for his, on one condition.”

“No,” he said immediately, voice firm. “The king dies. That was his deal.”

“I know, please, Hades.” She mustered up some tears. “I know his deal. I know his promise. But give him rest when he dies. Let me rot in his place. Put me in Tartarus, torture me for all eternity. But let him rest , and release my son, my kingdom, from your grip.”

“Bold ask, little queen.” Amusement was leaking at the edge of his words. “What’s the catch, mortal?”

“I will…” she gasped, feigning a sob, “I will follow him into the underworld at winter’s end.”

He watched her closely

“Hades,” she shook her head, “These are my terms,” she exhaled slowly, shutting her eyes.

“If he tries to stop me, if he moves me, tricks me, or tries to find a way to keep me on this plane, we both get to rest. You will send us both to Elysium, and we will live out our afterlives in peace, untouched, and together.”

Again, the god laughed. “You’re foolish.” he turned his back to her. Penelope reveled at the power she felt in his movements. He thought her weak.

“Little queen, you think that this man who crossed through each hell to be back by your side would argue if you wish to leave this world with him?” She saw him shake his head. “He is selfish, queen. He killed six hundred men to be by your side. He will not deny you the afterlife.”

“I think he will.” She said, voice wavering as she said it. She knew this game, she knew how to play it. This god was no different from the suitors that vied for her hand. Men with power were all the same — arrogant and naive.

She had spent years learning exactly how to weave her lies, how to string together exactly what she wanted.

And — no one knew Odysseus like her.

Hades could claim he was selfish, but he only knew Odysseus without Penelope. Perhaps that man was selfish… but the man she knew, the man she loved, would do anything to keep her safe.

He would cross into the underworld every night if it meant she was safe, alive, in Ithaca.

“Even you are unsure, girl. Listen to the fear in your voice.” He looked over his shoulder as he continued. “You would risk a lifetime of torture for the most close-fisted man I have had the misfortune of knowing in several millennia?”

She had him. He was circling now. She had to loose the arrow. “Yes, Hades. I would. That’s my deal.”

“Fine,” he turned to face her again, watching her closely. “But, you should know… I am not Hermes, I am not Zeus. My accords cannot be sealed with a handshake or an offering…” A twisted grin stretched across his features. “I demand sacrifice. Of your blood.”

Her eyes widened again, finally looking at her father in the corner. “You have until the sun sets, queen. Spill your own blood, or the deal will be void. Your vow will cover your foolish husband, as long as he keeps his end of our deal.”

Penelope gasped, shaking her head. “My own blood?”

“Your son,” the god suggested, still grinning. He tilted his head as he watched the queen.

Penelope picked the forgotten dagger up, palming it in her hand. “I have until sunset?” She asked, staring at the weapon.

“Yes.”

“Wait-” she said, reaching out.

“Going back already?”

“Oh, no,” she said, closing the distance between her and her father in seconds. Without another thought, she drove the dagger into his abdomen, eyes never leaving his as she watched shock, and then fear, flicker across his face.

“Penelope-” He rasped, blood staining his night clothes.

“Queen of Ithaca…” Hades heeded from behind her, his voice lower than it had been. “I never pegged you for such cruelty. Not even a spare thought for your father?”

“Raise him from the dead and I will do it again, Hades. There is no price I will not pay for my husband.” The dagger clattered to the ground, blood speckling the floor. “Do we have a deal?”

The god of the underworld smiled. “I suppose we do, little queen.”