Page 18

Chapter

Seventeen

P ersephone

Hades’ arm is wound protectively around my waist even though Alastor moves at a less than dangerous pace. The Underworld drifts slowly around us, but I take it all in. It’s all so beautiful. Magical. Like a dream cast in the glow of midnight and summer.

Rolling hills of asphodel flowers with their long, strong stems swaying gently in a warm breeze that hardly has the power to lift my hair, blankets my vision for as far as I can see.

Miles and miles of meadows stretch in a sea of white petals that glow with the faintest ember of soft white from the very heart of each flower.

It looks like a fairy field, if ever one were to exist.

There are no words for the gentle beauty of these meadows of legend and myth.

In the distance, I hear the melody of feminine laughter.

Searching the fields, I see a young woman in a simple off-white dress.

Glowing flowers stretch to caress her as she runs through the field from a man who chases.

Her laughter increases as he catches her around her waist, hauling her back against his chest before spinning her around and around.

I watch as they fall together in the meadow, entirely unaware of our nearing presence.

Laughter turns to moans, and I feel a hot sting in my cheeks as I turn away. I’ve never witnessed such beautiful affection so publicly . A couple so consumed by one another that they fail to see the world around them.

“Soul mates,” Hades tells me as Alastor leaves the couple behind. “The point of all life, of every soul who has lived and decides to seek out the Elysian Tree. They all take the leaves of new life in the hopes that they will find their other half in their next life.”

I twist to peer back at him. His face is filled with so much emotion.

The way he loves the souls who find themselves here in the Underworld. The souls who brave the pain of the living realm in the unlikely hope that they might find their truest purpose. Their other half. Their soul mates.

“How many souls find what they are looking for?” I ask. “How many souls find their other half?”

“It is a rare experience.” Tension lines his jaw. “Those who do find their other half very rarely choose to be born again, rather spending eternity here, happy, together.”

“Can they find one another here in the Underworld?”

“Only the souls who recognize one another as theirs in the living realm will know one another here in the Underworld. This is yet another curse of Zeus.”

“So, once they find each other in the living realm, they will recognize each other here in the Underworld?”

“Yes.”

“And they never choose to live again?”

“Why would they? The point of life is to find the one who holds the other half of your soul. Connection and love. There is little that drives humanity like the promise of true love.” Hades presses a kiss to my temple that quickens the pitter of my heart.

“Those who find it have it here for eternity. It never fades, never quiets. True love between souls that were made to exist together is a love that never dies or weakens.”

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, and choose to take the longer, more difficult path to greatness.

They must recognize the evil that exists within them—for it exists in us all—and choose good.

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, adorned with 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. I don’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— souls pause 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.”

Opening the box, I swipe my finger through creamy icing before sucking it clean. I moan.

“Good?” There’s unmistakeable heat in Hades’ voice as he drops his head to murmur the word against my neck.

My blood warms. Arousal tightens my belly. There is a vision—a memory—of teeth and blood and sex.

I shiver. Hades tightens his hold on me.

Closing my box, I dare asking, “Why don’t you bite me?”

Behind me, Hades stiffens. Darkly, he asks, “What?”