Hades tried not to imagine what might be happening to Persephone. As God of the Underworld, he knew only too well the horrors of Tartarus. It was the eternal dwelling place of the damned. Only the souls of mortals who had completely embraced darkness were condemned to that region. He loathed it, but he acknowledged the necessity of a place to house immutable evil.
And that was where his beloved had gone.
Orion came to a halt beside the dog. Cerberus was snuffling through dried leaves and pawing at something that flashed silver in the dim light. Hades dismounted and picked up the object. It was Persephone's amethyst necklace. She had no talisman to protect her.
“Faster, Cerberus!” he commanded.
The dog redoubled his efforts and Orion responded in kind. They broke through the forest of trees. Cerberus had come to a halt beside the fiery bank of Phlegethon. The dog was whining piteously and all three heads were nudging what Hades thought might be the collapsed body of a dead animal. Then Orion pierced the air with a heart-wrenching scream and plunged down the bank toward the dog. As the horse slid to a halt, Hades recognized the body.
“No!”
He flung himself from Orion's back and pushed Cerberus' massive body aside. Persephone had collapsed upon the cracked earth. Her arms were wrapped around her legs so that her knees pressed into her chest and her body had formed a rigid ball. Her eyes were open, but her pupils were fully dilated and she stared unseeing into the darkness beyond the flaming river.
Hades followed her gaze. The blackness of Tartarus was leaking from its banks. He looked down. Fingers of darkness had slithered from Phlegethon and they soaked the ground around Persephone.
Fury pulsed through the god. Quickly, he bent and knotted the broken chain around Persephone's unresisting neck. The amethyst narcissus began to glow. Then he raised his arms and the air around him began to swirl. In a voice magnified by anger and love, he commanded the grasping darkness.
“Away! You have no right to harm this goddess!”
The dark tendrils shivered, but they did not loosen their hold on Persephone.
“I am Hades, Lord of the Dead, and I command you. Do not touch her!” The god roared, casting all of his formidable power against the malignant fingers of evil.
The darkness drew back and then with a sizzling sound it dissipated like a thief retreating into the night.
Hades fell to his knees beside Persephone. He grasped the goddess's shoulders and turned her rigid body to face him.
“Persephone!”
She did not respond. Instead she continued to stare unblinkingly into the darkness beyond Phlegethon. Her face was deathly pale and her skin was cool to the touch. She was gasping in short, panting breaths, like she was having difficulty breathing.
“It is gone. It cannot harm you now. Look at me, Persephone.” Still she did not acknowledge his presence.
“Persephone! You have to listen to me.” He shook her until her head bobbled and Cerberus whined his distress.
The goddess's lips moved.
“Yes! Speak to me,” Hades cried.
“Too many mistakes. I can't . . .” Her voice cracked, and her words became inaudible.
“You can't what?” Hades prompted, shaking her again.
“Can't find my way. My body isn't here. I've disappeared.”
The emptiness in her voice terrified Hades. Her face was blank. Her eyes were glazed. The Persephone he knew was not there. It was as if an echo of her spirit was speaking through a shell.
And suddenly nothing mattered to him except bringing her back. He didn't care if she thought of him only as a job her mother had charged her to complete. He didn't care that Apollo was her lover. He didn't even care that she was going to leave him. He cared only that she was herself again.
Hades cupped her cold face in his hands. “Your way is here. You must come back to those who love you.”
Persephone blinked.
“Come back to us, beloved. Come back to me.”
She took one deep, rasping breath and Hades watched as her hand lifted to grasp the glowing amethyst flower. Then she blinked and struggled to focus on his face.
“Hades?” she croaked his name.
Dizzy with relief, he pulled her into his arms. “Yes, beloved. It is Hades, the foolish, arrogant god who loves you.”
“Take me away from here,” she sobbed, and buried her face in his chest.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
THE women watched silently as the Lord of the Dead carried their goddess into his palace. Though the god's face was grim, Persephone's arms were wrapped securely around his broad shoulders and her face was pressed into his neck. Relief passed through the spirits. She would be herself again. The god's love assured them of that. Like wind sloughing through willow branches they murmured softly to one another and departed the palace grounds.
“Eurydice!” Hades bellowed as he entered the palace. The spirit materialized instantly with Iapis at her side. “Draw the goddess a bath. Make it very hot.”
“Yes, Lord,” she said and disappeared.
Iapis kept pace with Hades. “What can I do?”
“Go to Bacchus. Tell him I must have his most potent wine. Something to soothe the soul of a goddess.” Hades said.
“I will, Lord.” Before Iapis disappeared he touched Persephone's head. “Be well, Goddess,” he whispered, and was gone.
Hades carried Persephone quickly to her chamber. Fragrant steam was already escaping from the bathing room and Hades entered the moist fog to find Eurydice hurrying around, pulling thick towels from shelves and choosing soft, plump sponges.
There was a well-cushioned chair near the mirrored wall. Reluctantly, Hades placed Persephone in it. Her arms slid lifelessly from around his shoulders and she sat very still. Her eyes were closed. Hades knelt beside her.
“Persephone, you are home now,” he said.
A tremor passed through her body.
“Beloved, can you hear me?”
She opened her eyes and looked at him.
“I can hear you.” Her voice was flat and expressionless.
“Do you know where you are?” he asked.
“I'm at your palace.”
“Yes,” he smiled encouragement, ignoring the dead sound of her voice.
Iapis materialized in the room. He held a crystal bottle of ruby-colored wine and a matching goblet. He poured the wine and an intoxicating scent drifted from the glass. It smelled of grapes and meadows, of ripened wheat and summer nights under the full moon.
Iapis offered the goblet to Persephone. “Drink, Goddess. It will revive you.”
She tried to hold the glass, but her hand was trembling so violently that she almost dropped it. Hades wrapped his hand around hers, guiding the wine to her lips. She drank deeply. The magic of the immortals' wine began warming her almost instantly. Soon, the trembling in her hands subsided so that she could drink without the god's help.
“Go, now,” Eurydice said, taking charge. “The goddess needs her privacy to bathe.”
Hades stood, but hesitated to leave the room.
“My Lord, I will call you when she is ready,” Eurydice assured him.
Still Hades hesitated. “Persephone, I will not be far away.”
The goddess looked up. “You don't need to worry. I'm back now,” she told him.
Even though her voice was expressionless, Hades nodded and he and Iapis reluctantly left the room.
HADES paced in the hallway outside her chamber. How long did it take to bathe? Would the spirit never call him? He wanted to thrust open the door and order Eurydice from the room. Then he would make Persephone listen to him. She had to hear his apology. He was a stupid, inexperienced, jealous fool. Hades sighed. She knew him. It shouldn't be difficult to get her to believe that he had blundered into such a terrible mistake.
The door opened and Eurydice stepped into the hall. She closed the door gently behind her.
“How is she?” Hades asked.
Eurydice looked up at the god, searching his face before she answered him. When she did she sounded much older than her years.
“She is sad, Lord.”
Hades raked his hand through his hair. “I have caused this.”
“Yes, you have,” she said simply.
Hades nodded tightly and turned to the door. Eurydice's pale hand halted him.
“Be patient. Treat her carefully. It's hard for a woman to love again after she has been hurt.”
Iapis materialized beside Eurydice. He slid his arm around her and the little spirit leaned into him.
“It's hard for a woman to love again after she had been hurt, but it is possible, Lord,” the daimon told his god.
Hades watched them walk slowly away. They fit well together. He turned back to the door, took a deep breath and entered Persephone's chamber.
The goddess was wearing a sheer silk chemise the color of candlelight. She was curled up on a chaise that sat in front of the wall of windows. Part of the velvet drapes had been pulled back and Persephone seemed to be studying the night-cloaked gardens while sipping Bacchus' wine.
“Your gardens really are very beautiful,” she spoke without looking at him.
He crossed the room and stood beside her chaise.
“Thank you. I am glad . . .” His words faded. He didn't want to make inconsequential conversation with her. Eurydice had warned him to be patient and careful, and he would. But he must also speak his heart to her. He sat beside her on the chaise.
“Please forgive me. I am a fool,” he said.
She turned to face him.
“I knew you were going to leave me, so I wanted to break with you first. I thought it might save me pain. I thought I could go back to how it was before I loved you. I was wrong. I was selfish. I did not think of your feelings. Like an aging, solitary monster, I thought only of myself.”
Lina put up her hand to stop his words. “Don't say any more. You're a god. You were simply acting like a god.”
Hades clutched her hand. “No! I am not like the others. Everything I said to you in the forge was a lie. I was angry. I was hurt. It is hard for me to understand that you can be with me, and share yourself with Apollo, too. I . . .” he faltered. “It is I who am not accustomed to the way immortals choose and then discard their lovers.”
“Hades, Apollo is not my lover.”
The god studied her face. “I saw him take you into his arms.”
Lina blinked in surprise. “You were there?”
“I followed you. I heard Demeter remind you of the way immortals love, then I watched Apollo hold you.”
“If you had watched a little longer, you would have seen that that's all that happened. I don't want Apollo, Hades. If what Demeter had said to me hadn't upset me so badly, I would never have let him touch me at all.”
Hades wiped his hand across his brow. “You don't desire Apollo, too?”
“No.”
He bowed his head. “Then the pain I caused you was truly for no reason. I do not know if you can forgive me, but please believe me when I say that I do love you, Persephone.”
She turned her face away from him. “You don't love me, Hades. You love what you think I am. You don't really know me at all.”
“How can you say that to me?” He grasped her chin and forced her to look at him.
“You just love the goddess, not the woman inside her soul.”
“You are wrong, Persephone, but let me tell you what I love and then you may decide for yourself. I love your curiosity about everything. I love how you see my realm with new, wondering eyes. I love your sense of humor. I love your kindness and your honesty. I love your unbridled passion. I love the way you bespell animals. I love your loyalty. I especially love your stubbornness, because it was your stubbornness that did not let an ancient god remain trapped within his own denial and loneliness.” Tears fell from Persephone's eyes and Hades brushed them gently away. “Now you tell me, what is it that I loveâthe goddess or her soul?”
“But you don't know . . . you can't really know,” she said brokenly.
“I know that I feel your presence before I see you. Something has happened to me, and it has little to do with anything physical. For the first time in an eternity, I understand why soul mates cannot be separated, even after death. It is because their hearts beat in tandem. While I was waiting outside your door, I could feel your heart breaking within. Let me heal it, Persephone, and in the mending of your heart, I will save myself.”
“Is it possible that you really do love my soul?” Lina whispered.
Hades smiled at her as he felt the fear inside him begin to thaw. “Death is completely enamored with Spring. If that is possible, then anything is possible, beloved.”
She melted into his arms and their lips met. Hades meant for the kiss to be soft and reassuring, but Persephone opened her mouth and pressed herself against him, demanding more. His desire for her flared and he moaned her name as he crushed her barely clad body against his chest.
“Make love to me,” she gasped. “I need to feel you inside me.”
He lifted her in his arms and carried her to the bed, but as he began to strip the clothes from his body, she stopped him.
“Let me,” she said.
She sat on the edge of the bed and Hades stood in front of her, forcing his hands to remain at his sides while she undressed him. He was wearing a shorter version of his voluminous robes, and she slowly unwound the linen from his muscular body. She slid her hands down his chest; his skin felt hot and slick to her touch. At his abdomen she bent forward and replaced her teasing hands with her mouth. He sucked in his breath as her tongue feathered sensation over his skin. She couldn't get enough of him. She felt like she had been awakened from the dead, and she needed his passion and his love and his touch to keep her anchored there with him. She loosened his loincloth and slid it from his hips. Then she stroked his hardness in her cool hands, all the while moving her mouth slowly lower. When she swallowed him his body spasmed and swayed.