That Fatal Kiss (32 page)

“Persephone, delay no longer,” he said brusquely. “Tell me this instant what troubles you.”

The goddess uncovered her face to look at him with some surprise. “I’m not troubled.”

“You’re upset. Am I responsible?”

“No.” Persephone reached for his hand and brought it to her lips, kissed it, laid her face against it. “You’ve done no wrong, I just…I just learned something today that I never really wanted to know. But you’ve done nothing wrong.” She closed her other hand over his and brought it down to rest in her lap. “I am…embarrassed to discuss this with you, and if you had not somehow discerned my disquiet, I would not.”

“What have you learned?”

Persephone regarded the hand she held. “Among other things, that the dead have long memories after all. Oh!” She grimaced and Hades felt the churning of her stomach. He was about to demand that she take some food when she gave another sigh and said, “I went to greet the new arrivals, of which there were many. I found that I could lay hands upon the shades, actually touch them, and feed them warmth. So I did this and accompanied them to the fields of asphodel. I made my way through all the dead, the newer, the older…some very old indeed. I touched as many as I came across and learned that some of them could communicate with me in this way, not with words, but with their thoughts. Some merely thanked me for my kindness; others told me how they missed their lives, their loved ones. The very old shades couldn’t really focus well enough to tell me anything, I could only feel that they’d been lightened by my touch.” She stroked his hand. “And some…told me about Leuce.”

PERSEPHONE FELT TORN
between her need to look at Hades’ face, so she could gauge his reaction to the name, and her desire to quit the throne room. She’d had no intention of raising the matter with him for, though she’d felt stung by what she’d learned, Persephone could not be angry. Leuce was a part of Hades’ past, before Persephone held any claim to him and, given the course of events, the female was no threat to her now. But she neither looked at Hades nor fled; instead, she called upon every better feeling within her to aid her in this uncomfortable situation. What this amounted to in practice was sitting for long, quiet moments, staring all the while at his hand as she held it. Then she heard Hades say, “If it would not aggrieve you further, I would hear more. What did they tell you about her?”

The goddess flushed, but answered in a steady voice. “They told me that she was a nymph, one of the many daughters of Oceanus. That one day she parted company from her sisters, at Thesprotia, and swam along the river Acheron, unaware that she was headed for Erebus. They said she arrived at Elysium and decided to pull herself out of the river to rest upon the grassy shore there, only she sustained a wound on her leg from the rocky riverbed. They said…that you came upon her and found her bleeding, and that you bathed and dressed her wound. That you invited her to stay as long as she liked, until she felt well enough to leave. They told me that she did stay, and…and never left. That you became dear to one another. And they told me that later, when she lay dying, she begged to be preserved along the Acheron, the means by which she’d found her happiness. You transformed her into a magnificent tree and set her along the bank of the Acheron in Elysium, where she’d first pulled herself from the water.” Persephone lightly traced a vein in Hades’ hand with her fingernail as she deliberated over her next words, then said, “I suppose…I suppose that beautiful white poplar I pointed out the day we visited Elysium is, in fact, Leuce?”

“Yes,” he confirmed. “Is that all they told you?”

She nodded and stroked his hand again. She heard a rustle of movement and knew that he’d knelt before her, only she could not yet bear to look at him. His other hand came into view as it covered both of hers, encircling them, comforting in its firmness. “Now I would tell you more,” Persephone heard him say. “With your permission.”

She took a very deep breath. “As you please, Aidoneus.”

“All you’ve said is true and happened exactly as you related to me just now,” Hades said. “But there is more that no shade may ever know, and even more that only Leuce and I knew. Though Leuce chose to remain in Erebus, she never lived with me in the palace. She enjoyed the fields of Elysium and the time we spent together was always there. Everything in the palace, your throne, your garments, your jewels, has only ever been yours, never hers. She looked after herself entirely, although I did provide her with nectar and food, for it was my duty to my guest. And yes, we did grow to care for one another.” The pressure of his hand increased. “But Leuce and I never shared what you and I have, and this I swear to you by the Styx.” With an effort, Persephone looked up at him to witness his oath-sealing nod.

“I remember a conversation in which you discouraged exploration of our…pasts. At the time, I could not agree with you, but now…” Hades’ eyes crinkled with warmth as he offered her a smile. “I feel I have completely come around to your point of view. I regret that your service to the shades exposed you to this…perhaps surprising information. Though it cannot be unlearned, it need not be dwelt upon, and to that end, I wish to know if you would have me relocate the white poplar.”

His offer proved more surprising to Persephone than anything else she’d heard that morning. “But…she asked to be kept by the Acheron. That you honored her wish is all that is right and proper, I would not have you disturb her now, Hades.”

“The Acheron runs through Erebus for miles and miles, and then for many miles beyond it, out into the Upperworld. I can very easily continue to honor her wish by placing her by one of the entrances to Erebus. Perhaps by Thesprotia, to commemorate how she found her way below. In this way, you and I may enjoy the soft light of Elysium without any shadows.”

Persephone scanned his features carefully, saw nothing but concern for her, and cast her eyes back down to their joined hands. “I think you do right to honor Leuce’s final wish. If she herself chose to remain in Erebus while alive, she might also wish it to be her resting place evermore.”

“Yet she did not explicitly state it,” Hades said. “She referenced the Acheron but not Elysium. Remember, she was a water nymph. The green fields, though she found them charming, never enchanted her as did the sparkling waters of the river. I feel she would approve of my plan.”

“It feels wrong to ask it of you.”

“You didn’t ask; I offered.”

His persistence brought a smile to Persephone’s lips. “You want so very much to please me, Hades.”

“That I do,” he acknowledged, then smiled back at her. “And you want to show me that you’re now beyond the reach of your passions.”

“Well,” she said, her smile broadening, “not all of them.” More seriously, the goddess said, “Thank you, Hades, for being so considerate of my feelings. But I don’t feel the need to rush to a decision; let me think on the matter a bit.”

“Very well. But know you’ve only to say the word and your will shall be done.”

“I do know.” Persephone removed her hands from his and reached up to lace her arms around his shoulders. Hades pulled her onto his knee and they embraced for some time. Then she said, “I’ve thoroughly disrupted your peace of mind, haven’t I?”

“Not thoroughly.”

She chuckled against his chest. “How diplomatic of you. Tell me, have you even had time to break your fast today?” When he failed to answer her, she said, “This cannot stand. Though I am loath to leave you, I really must insist that you go eat while I take a quick bath.”

“Or,” Hades said, the rich timbre of his voice thrilling a path down the side of Persephone’s neck, “we could do both things, together.”

“We could, but if you don’t mind, I’d like to bathe quickly, so I may then take some exercise. I feel the need for some vigorous motion.”

Hades looked down at her with a suggestive smile. “I would be happy to oblige you.”

“Good. I was hoping we’d go for a ride—”

“So was I.”

“—throughout Erebus,” Persephone finished, her eyes twinkling as Hades’ face fell. “On your chariot. We were going to investigate the eastern region under Etna, remember?”

“Regrettably, I do,” Hades said moodily. “Though I find the task distasteful, I must advise you of my extreme disappointment.”

“Would it please you better,” Persephone said, “to know that after we take care of Typhon we could, perhaps, refresh one another?”

“This plan I find more to my liking.”

“I hoped you might,” Persephone said with a grin. She reached up to kiss him. “Meet me in front of the palace?”

The god returned her kiss with a depth and hunger that shook Persephone to her bones. Then Hades tweaked her nose and placed her upon her throne before taking his leave of her. “Tarry not.”

Deliberately hiding the fact that he left her with trembling thighs, Persephone smiled at Hades as he went off. But as she made her way to the bathing chamber, her smile disappeared. Though she put on a brave face, the goddess worried about the task they had before them. For if Hades, who feared no one, could be concerned enough for their safety that he’d go above ground for help in dealing with the serpent, then there must truly be reason to worry.

Persephone, preferring to be alone just then, did not summon Ione but filled the tub herself. She disrobed and sank into the steaming water, shutting her eyes with a sigh. The goddess could now be grateful for the fact that Hades had put her through her paces the night before, for then she’d only
assumed
herself capable of fighting. Now she
knew
she was and, though the knowledge could not completely eliminate her concern, it did comfort her to know she’d be a help to her husband, and not a hindrance.

Her eyes popped open. Her
husband
. It was the first time she’d thought of him that way. Persephone’s lips trembled and then the words burst from them, “Oh, my darling husband! Hades, how I do love you!”

The goddess stared as her declaration echoed in the solitary chamber. She loved him. Yes. Well, of course she did. None of this business would bother her, not Leuce, not Typhon, nor the danger to Hades, if she did not. And she must tell him so, before they left the palace to face the only creature ever known to strike fear into the hearts of men and Immortals alike.

SENSES REELING FROM
their parting kiss, Hades headed for the kitchens to acquire some small morsel to fortify him for the task ahead. With another servant, he placed the order for his chariot. Eating as he went, the god next obtained armament from a secret cabinet in the throne room. The items in hand, Hades summoned Cerberus and, the hound close behind, went to await his wife in front of the palace.

As another servant delivered the chariot to him, the god noted the grin on the human’s face and wondered at it. Then, when the man bowed and left, Hades realized the mortal merely mirrored his own happiness. The god felt his smile broaden as he placed his weapons in the chariot and then gave Cerberus some hearty scratches behind all three sets of ears.

Yes, he was happy. Happy in his choice of a caring, tender female who sought to serve, not be served. Who aimed to heal and give peace, not solely take amusement in idle nothings. His darling Persephone was a goddess of substance and courage, one of whom he could be proud. He could think of no other goddess but Athena, and perhaps the Furies, who would choose to go after Typhon. Of course, they were well trained in defending against, and punishing, violence against the gods. Persephone, however, was not.

At that thought, Hades’ heart grew heavy. With the exception of her, admittedly brilliant, display of the previous evening, Persephone had had no training or experience in combat. Nor could she fully grasp the immensity and strength of the beast they were to tackle. Would the goddess keep her nerve in the heat of battle? Would she be able to acquit herself as well as she had the night before, when Typhon loomed over her? Or would terror strike hard, as it had almost all the other gods, so long ago?

Persephone ought to remain at the palace; Hades knew it, felt it in his very bones. Better he resort to seeking the aid of his brothers than his beloved wife come to harm. For, though he’d denied it to the goddess, he did fear it possible for a being such as Typhon to destroy even an Immortal.