Chapter 24 - Justice For The Dead

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Sunlight was streaming through the room and Persephone woke, reaching towards Hades, but the bed was empty next to her. She sat up and saw that a gown was spread across her dresser, and she dressed herself as hurriedly as possible, leaving the stays loose at her back. As she moved through the house, it was still and empty and she felt a pang as she realized this small reprieve was over. The doors were open and she paused as she saw Hades, his back silhouetted against the brilliant dawn. She took in the orange-pink sky, the pound of the waves against the shore, and the sweet scent of nature, locking it all into her mind. A chill of foreboding told her to keep this memory close, and she shivered in the warm morning air. The Fates had said that she would want to stay, but that she would not. But, wasn’t that her choice to make? She wanted to stay.

Hades turned towards her suddenly and his face was composed, no trace remained of the nightmares that had haunted him. “You look lovely this morning,” his voice was caressing as he took her hand. “We must go I am afraid. I sent the horses back earlier so we will take the river.”

“Can I not say goodbye to my father?” she asked.

He shook his head. “We will return here soon. I wrote him, letting him know we had to depart. I have left my responsibilities for too long. I suppose I allowed myself to be most pleasantly distracted,” he finished with a smile.

“I suppose you did,” she replied. “And I wish I could say that I was sorry, but I am not. Promise me we will come back here?”

“I promise. Come, my Queen.” He led her down to the seashore, and further from the temple there was a dock where an elegant boat waited. He helped his wife down into the craft and jumped in after her. Lifting a large oar, he began to push the small craft through the sparkling waters.

“Could you not use magic to take us there?” she inquired.

“Ah yes, but I enjoy the simple life here, remember wife?” he answered.

She laughed, letting her fingers dangle in the warm waves, the sunshine dancing across her face. A cave appeared near the shoreline and Persephone was not surprised to see him heading towards it. It seemed her destiny to end up in the dreaded, dark caverns, and she kept silent as they drew nearer. She held her breath, preparing herself for the suffocating blackness, but as they entered, she looked up in awe. The caverns sparkled with thousands of pale blue lights that shimmered and lit their way down through the narrow passage.

“It is magical!” Persephone exclaimed.

“They are glow worms. Beautiful little creatures, are they not?”

She glanced at her husband, as he looked up fondly at the glowing lights. “Yes, beautiful.”

“We are almost there,” he continued, smiling down at her.

Dread pitted her stomach at the thought of returning, but she forced a smile on her lips. Things would be different now at the palace, she assured herself. The curse was over and she would not let memories of that time corrupt their future. The shore appeared and Hades docked the boat in a little cove, securing the craft with surprising efficiency. She began to stand, but he moved swiftly, taking the seat next to her own. His large body was pressed against hers and he leaned back, bringing her to lay over him, so that they looked up at the mysterious blue lights.

“Just a little while longer,” he murmured against her neck. “Let us just pretend we are two young lovers looking up at the night sky. No responsibilities except to ourselves.”

The blue light flickered over his face, lovingly shaping his high cheekbones, straight nose, and perfect, full lips. How I love him, she thought, and she felt the ridiculous prickle of tears against her eyes. Why did this sense of doom always seem to hover at the edge of her life?

“Are we not young lovers?” she retorted with a glare, hoping that he would not notice her sudden melancholy.

“You are young,” he replied, laughing. She felt dampness on her cheeks and she lifted a hand to her face, but he reached for it too, wiping small white, crystals from her skin. His gaze narrowed as they melted on his fingertips.

“Snow,” he muttered. “Something is wrong.” He pulled her to her feet, wrapping his cape around her, his long fingers securing it around her neck. “Come. We will go the rest of the way on foot.” As they hurried out of the cave, Persephone saw that chunks of ice were pushing into its entrance and the river was beginning to freeze over. They stepped from the cave and she gasped. It was a blizzard outside and the wind whipped wildly around them stealing the breath from her chest. Hades strode to the main docks of the river and she saw the Judges were waiting.

They gave a gasp of relief as they saw him, their long robes flying behind them as they hurried to the King. “My lord,” Minos cried. “The upper world is covered in ice and the death toll is mounting. We are behind schedule with sorting. A tragedy seems to have befallen the world above and the souls are demanding retribution for their unjust deaths. I fear we have a rebellion on our hands. The rivers are frozen and Charon can barely ferry the souls across.” His eyes drifted to Persephone and his face twisted with animosity, the hostility so ripe in his gaze that Persephone gave a small gasp.  “I fear you have been preoccupied, my King. Never before have I seen such anarchy in these halls. I cannot help but to attribute it to certain changes that have recently occurred here.”

Hades grasped Persephone’s hand tightly in his hand, taking a step closer to the Judge. “You think to blame my wife?” he questioned with anger, his voice a lethal whisper in the wind. “I left for several days, as I have done in the past, and return to find chaos in my Kingdom. If you cannot manage to maintain stability in my absence I wonder if I need you at all? And if you look, or speak to your Queen in such a way again, you will do so without your eyes and your tongue in the future. Now leave me!” Minos’ face had turned pale and he turned and rushed out hurriedly, the others falling into step behind him. “I will take you to your rooms,” he said, pulling her quickly beside him. “You will stay there until I sort this out.”

“What?” she cried, pulling against his grasp. “No, I should come with you! I should help you sort them. If there is a riot, you will need my help.”

“I forbid it,” he hissed out between his teeth. They crossed the threshold into the palace and Hades bellowed, “Phoebe!” The handmaiden appeared, running hurriedly down the halls. “Take your Queen to her room,” he ordered.

Persephone grasped his arm tightly, angry at his dismal. “I am the Queen!” she seethed, looking up into his face, the veil of coldness firmly back in place. “I will not be pushed away. There are two thrones and I am supposed to sit on one of them. My place is at your side.”

“Today it is not,” he replied coldly. “These souls are angry and I do not yet know what is happening or what the Judges have said to them. If they have tried to place blame with you, the sight of your face could incite dissension. Stay here where you are safe and let me deal with this today.”

He gave Phoebe a nod and turned his back on her, his footsteps soundless as he moved down the marbled halls. The sounds of muffled, raised voices increased as he approached the throne room. Hades pushed open the doors and paused as he took in the crowded room, hundreds of angry faces turned towards him. He allowed none of his shock to show, keeping his face a blank mask and their voices quieted as he strode towards his throne. Sullen, furious eyes followed him as he crossed the large room. He sat slowly, eyeing the dead when the doors opened suddenly and Persephone stepped into the hall.

The cries of the mob were deafening as they hissed at her. A chant was rising and Hades realized in horror what they were saying.

“Murderess.” A rock was hurled through the crowd, hitting her face, and she gave a small cry of pain.

Hades took a moment to locate the man who had thrown the stone before fury caused his vision to blur, and he lifted his hands, throwing the bodies away from her, the floor quivering with the force of his rage. He rose from the throne, his hands lifted as purple fire arced between his fingers.

“Touch her again and I will rip your souls apart until you are little more than cinder on this floor.” His voice was a deadly whisper as he walked towards Persephone. He raised his hand against her cheek, his fingers brushing away any trace of pain from her skin.

“Her mother murdered us because she is here!” An anonymous voice called out from the crowd. “She as good as killed us. And here she sits on the throne while we starved and froze to death! She should burn!” The crowd began to become louder and Hades could feel them pressing closer, their faces filled with loathing. Persephone tried to step closer to the crowd and he could see she meant to comfort them. Hades knew that they would as soon rip her body to pieces as listen to her words. He pulled her behind him.

“You think to dictate to me,” he said in a low voice. “I welcome you into my Kingdom as guests and it makes you greedy and gluttonous and demanding. Your Queen is blameless. I am the reason for your deaths. I took Demeter's daughter against her will. Demeter grieves for her child - neither of them are responsible.”

“She is the one who brought this upon us!”

“Throw her in Tartarus. Send us back above!”

The mob’s chants rose to a thunderous roar, the hundreds of cries and curses merging together until the last ounce of Hades’ patience drained away. Tilting his head back, he let the words tumble from his lips, “Mors omnibus.” The whispered phrase echoed loudly through the hall, ending with a hiss as the room was plunged into darkness.

Persephone reached for Hades but she was rooted in place. She felt a soft touch against her face as an insidious silence trickled through the room, a heaviness that covered the air. Suddenly the room was immersed in a brilliant purple light, the violet hues seeming to emanate from Hades’ skin as he levitated from the ground. The flesh around his eyes was black and his irises glowed crimson, veins etched onto his flesh. He opened his mouth and the voice of death poured from his lips. “Mors tua, vita mea. Do you forget to whom you speak? I am death. I am King of the Damned, the Infernal; I have been known by many names. You can die once or you can die a thousand deaths. Your souls will empower mine.” His feet returned to the ground and he took a step closer to the crowd, smiling, his canines sharp and extended. A hiss filled the room and he lifted his hand, as a doorway opened in the floor. The door flung back and tormented cries of misery echoed from the gaping blackness. With a wave of his hand, the man who had thrown the stone was lifted from the ground and thrown into the pit of darkness. Flames burst from the depths as his body disappeared over the edge and a cry of agony was quickly cut off as the door slammed shut again.  He turned back to the crowd.

“Who wants to join him? Who dares to whisper treason against their Queen? It is your choice, eternal fire or the meadows? Loyalty or treachery? I would like nothing better than to watch you all burn.” His eyes flared purple when an archway opened through the wall, filled with the beautiful, bright light of Asphodel. The crowd pleaded suddenly, the mortals falling to their knees begging for mercy. Hades motioned his hand and they flooded through the gates to the meadows, pushing each other in their desperation to escape the King of Death. “Welcome to the Underworld,” he mocked. The door thundered shut as the last soul stepped through.

Persephone moved forward, but she was suddenly pushed against the wall, staring into the eyes of a demon. “You disobeyed me,” he rasped, his blood red eyes boring into her own. Instead of being afraid, she pressed her face against his chest.

“I am sorry,” she cried. “I thought I could help. Is what they said true? Did my mother do this?” When she looked up again, the red was fading from his eyes, revealing his dark gaze.

“I believe she has inadvertently started an endless winter -- due to her grief of losing you. But they did not blame Demeter, they blamed you. Someone is working against you. They would have ripped you to pieces if given half the chance,” he declared heatedly.

“I thought I could reason with them,” she said quietly.

“Have you never before seen an angry mob?” He cried in exasperation, shaking her slightly. “They cannot be reasoned with! They demand blood and the only thing more powerful than their rage -- is fear. They see you as a killer and only your fall from grace will satisfy them. They wanted to see you brought to your knees and expected me to deal you your punishment.”

“But--but I am their queen, I should not cower from them! It is my responsibility to see to the safety of this Kingdom. To help you.”

“I know my sweet wife. But… sometimes a more subtle and lethal attack is needed. I fear another wave will be coming tomorrow. Unless we can find a way to stop this everlasting winter.”

“What can we do? I am worried about my mother.”

“As am I,” he murmured. “Without knowing where Ares is, I am not sure that it is safe for you to go above ground. It may not be safe for you to travel to her temple, in any case, with mobs of mortals all directing their anger towards you.”

She watched his pensive face. “What are you thinking?”

“Write to your mother. Let her know how you are. Zeus will not be happy losing so many souls to me. It may force his hand. In the meantime, do not wander the palace. I must see how badly the rivers are frozen, perhaps I can unfreeze them enough that Charon may be able to pass. Stay in your room, Persephone. I mean it. I will find you when I am finished. There is nothing more you can do tonight.”

A protest rose on her lips but she bit it back when she saw the look in his eyes. She remembered his confession, that he was afraid she would be destroyed as his mother had been. Perhaps this once, she could do as she was bid. He had been right, she should never have come into the throne room. He walked her back to her chambers, silent as they made their way down the hall. When they reached her room he pushed the door open.

“Stay here, Persephone,” he repeated again and she was reminded of her first night here. How much had changed since then. She would give anything to protect the man who stood in front of her, this dark God who was hers. With a kiss he was gone and she was once again alone in the darkness.

After a happy reunion with Olive, Persephone spent a restless evening in her room. Events were unfolding quickly and she felt as if they were stumbling helplessly forward, yet unable to stay ahead of the hands of fate. She wrote a long letter to her mother and Charon came to collect it, but it felt like too little, too late.  When she inquired about Hades, Charon’s hooded face turned to her silently, and then he slipped from the room wordlessly like the quiet wraith that he was. She gave a frustrated sigh, barely resisting the urge to throw her shoe at him. She longed to check on Cerberus, but it was likely her little friend was quite busy ensuring that the masses of souls who had arrived stayed put. And more would be coming, there was no doubt of that. The winter above was fierce and relentless, sweeping across the land like a dark shadow of death. Even the Underworld felt the bite of the numbing cold. Where was her mother now, she wondered? Guilt tugged at her; had there been anything she could have done to reassure her? First she had been unable to contact her mother, but after discovering her love for Hades… could she have contacted her mother then? Would it have protected or endangered Demeter to place her between herself and Ares? She had allowed herself to become distracted, and because of that distraction, death and disease ran rampant in the world above. Perhaps she was responsible for this. She sat suddenly, overwhelmed by guilt, leaning against the bed as she pushed her face against Olive. So many deaths lay at her feet; how could she go on when such a heavy burden weighed down on her? Hades found her there many hours later, and she gave a start as she felt his hands on her back.

“What are you doing, Persephone?” he inquired softly.

She turned to look up at him, his face unreadable in the darkness. “I must have fallen asleep,” she replied vaguely. “Were you able to ferry the souls tonight?”

He nodded, sinking to the ground next to her. “I was able to melt the ice enough that we were able to bring them through. But it will be frozen again by morning. You wrote to your mother?”

“Yes, I gave the letter to Charon,” she responded.

“Good,” he mumbled in a tired voice as he reached behind him to rub Olive’s soft fur. The deer pressed his nose into his hand. Persephone moved to kneel in front of him, letting her eyes drift over him. His eyes were closed and the delicate flesh beneath was shadowed, lines of strain evident on his face.

She brushed a dark strand of hair from his forehead. “You should eat,” she said softly. “Do you want me to bring you something?”

“I am hungry,” his voice was a rumble against her as he pressed his face suddenly against her neck.

“What would you like?” she asked breathlessly.

“You,” he growled. He pushed her back and moved between her legs.