The Underworld was different.
The air smelled like sulfur, and the sky was full of ash. When the wind blew, Persephone could feel the grit of it against her skin, rough and blistering.
There were other things too. The souls had channeled their usual merriment into preparing for war. Cerberus remained restless and three-headed, uninterested in play. All the while, the glassy obsidian mountains of Tartarus taunted Persephone, a constant reminder of what had occurred in the arsenal.
As much as she recognized she was queen of this realm and now possessed power over it, she could not bring herself to hide the changes, the slow decay. It seemed fitting given what had occurred—what was still occurring—and concealing it with vines and flowers felt insincere. A corpse was still a corpse, even covered in colorful flora.
There was a part of her that wondered if the Underworld was dying, and if that was true, did it also mean Hades was dying? She pushed those thoughts away quickly. She could not bear to think like that right now. It felt like giving up, and she would never give up. She would fight for Hades until the world ended, and when there was nothing left, only her rage would remain.
“Have you heard anything?” Yuri asked.
Persephone met the soul’s wide-eyed gaze. She frowned, realizing she had become so lost in her thoughts that she had heard nothing the girl had been saying.
“About Hades,” Yuri added to clarify.
Persephone’s gaze fell to her cold tea.
“No,” she whispered.
Hermes and Apollo were on the hunt for Theseus’s men. The challenge was finding someone close enough to the demigod who would know the answers to the questions they had, though they were finding that very few knew his plans, if any.
Hecate was continuing to trace her ring, which was proving to be far more challenging than either of them expected given that it seemed to be traveling with Theseus and revealed a rather mundane routine for someone so sinister.
Nevertheless, learning the demigod’s movements was still an advantage. Perhaps they’d find someone to interrogate.
“Are the souls…” Persephone started to ask if they were afraid, but that was a ridiculous question. Of course they were afraid. It had only been two days since Theseus had released the Titans and the souls had to fight the monsters that had escaped Tartarus. They’d been brave, but there had been consequences, as she knew there would be, namely that some had not been able to withstand the trigger of battle and Thanatos had to take them to Elysium.
It had hurt everyone. It hurt now.
“Do they feel safe?” she asked instead.
“As safe as they can,” Yuri replied, and she looked out her open door. “Preparing for the worst makes them feel better.”
The street was busy with souls who were repairing or reinforcing their homes. Ian and Zofie continued to forge weapons, their hammers striking in an uneven rhythm.
It was almost like they did not trust her magic, though how could they when she did not even trust it herself? It was new, still foreign. It lived on the fringes of her energy, reminding her of the way Hades’s magic always waited in the wings, primed to protect her no matter the cost.
Persephone’s eyes burned with tears, and after a moment of quiet, Yuri whispered, her voice quivering, “I just wish everything was normal again.”
Persephone hardened against those words.
It was such a natural thing to say when things felt uncertain, but the longer she lived with loss, the more the idea of normal angered her.
There was no normal. There was only the past, and it was hopeless to wish for it even at her loneliest, because nothing could return to the way it was—not in the aftermath of this.
“There is no ‘normal again,’ Yuri,” Persephone said. “There is only new and different, and neither are always good.”
The soul frowned.
“Persephone, I—”
She rose to her feet before Yuri could finish, knowing what her next words would be.
I’m so sorry.
And she could not stand to hear them either. She could not even explain why, but they were just words, empty ones people said when they had nothing else to give.
“Thank you, Yuri, for the tea.”
She fled before her emotions got the best of her and teleported to the Asphodel Fields. By the time she arrived, she was already in tears. She looked out on the Underworld from where she stood, her arms crossed over her chest. The wind picked up, whipping her hair, and the asphodel around her swayed, grazing her gown.
She felt sick and lost, and she did not know where to go, because every part of this place reminded her of Hades, yet he was what she wanted most.
She closed her eyes, and cold tears spilled down her face.
“Lady Persephone.”
She swallowed hard and looked over her shoulder at Thanatos. She did not care to hide her pain. He could feel it anyway.
“Can I help you?”
She knew what he was asking.
Thanatos had influence over emotion. He could ease her suffering. In the past, she’d refused. She’d wanted to feel because she felt like she deserved it, but this was different.
“Please,” she said. The word was a plea, a broken cry.
Thanatos offered his hand, and she took it, warm and soft against her own, and suddenly peace fell over her. It was like…picnics in the meadow under the starry Underworld sky and baking cookies in a small kitchen with her best friend by her side. It felt like the fun of rock paper scissors and hide-and-seek.
It felt like…the first time she had looked at Hades and recognized her own soul.
“What are you thinking?”
She shivered at the sound of his voice, and chills pebbled her skin.
She opened her eyes.
“Hades,” she whispered and touched his face, grazing the stubble on his cheek.
He felt real enough, but she had been fooled by this before and did not think she could face the pain of waking alone again.
They were lying in the grass beneath a twisted oak. She knew this place. They had been here before—they had rested and made love beneath this tree. It was at the very edge of Elysium. If she were to sit up, she would see the gray waves of the ocean cresting the horizon.
“Where are you?” she asked.
He laughed as he studied her with those dark eyes, his body pressed against hers.
“I’m right here,” he said. “With you.”
She shook her head, her vision blurring with tears.
She knew otherwise.
“Darling,” he said, his voice a low rumble, his fingers in her hair. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to her forehead. She closed her eyes tight, focusing on the feel of his kiss, warm and heavy.
Real.
When he pulled away, he let his nose drift along hers.
“It was just a dream,” he said, and she opened her eyes again.
“You speak as if you live inside my mind,” she said.
Hades stared at her and frowned, his eyes drifting to her lips, and she was suddenly aware of a keen hunger tightening her stomach.
“What will it take? To prove to you this is real?”
“Nothing you do will convince me,” she said. “Unless you can tell me where you are.”
He was quiet, watching her.
Then he leaned closer, and the air between them felt heavier than his weight on her body.
“Lost,” he answered before his mouth dropped to hers.
His kiss was like a brand that seared her skin. She opened her mouth against his, and his tongue slipped inside.
He tasted different, his mouth devoid of that smoky, sweet edge, but he smelled the same, sharp and earthy, like long shadows cast by firelight. She tried not to think about the change and what it meant.
He pulled away again, but she could still feel the brush of his lips against hers as he spoke. She kept her eyes closed as he whispered, “Live in this moment with me.”
Her resistance melted away, broken by the same plea she had made before. Her mouth collided with his, and her arms went around him, hands pressing into his back, bringing his entire body flush with hers.
As they kissed, Hades moved against her and she lifted her hips, needing to feel him where she ached the most. Each lush stroke coaxed a fire beneath her skin and stole a little more of her breath. By the time he left her mouth, she was ready for him, so aware of how empty she felt.
“Hades.” She breathed his name as his lips trailed along her jaw and down her throat before he buried his face between her breasts, hands gripping. Her fingers sifted through his hair, tightening when his teeth grazed one nipple, then the other through the fabric of her dress.
Finally, he looked up.
His eyes were dark but just as brilliant as they were when he was in his true form. They possessed a fire of their own, a liveliness that only erupted when he was looking at her. She felt as though a void had opened in the pit of her stomach, and somehow, she became even more hollow.
“Yes?” he asked.
“Fuck me as a god,” she said.
“If you wish it,” he said.
“I wish it.”
Hades’s gaze was unwavering as he bent and pulled one of her nipples into his mouth before sitting back on his knees. She did not like the distance, but she liked watching him undress. When he was naked before her and he had dropped his glamour, she sat up and pulled her dress over her head.
His gaze on her bare skin made her feel primal and possessive. It ignited her with a will to dominate. She moved onto her knees, and Hades took her into his arms, lifting her up the incline of his thighs until she was seated against his length.
“Drop your glamour,” he said, “so that I may make love to a goddess.”
From this position, she was elevated slightly above him, and she used that to her advantage, teasing him as she brushed her mouth against his.
“If you wish it,” she whispered.
“I wish it,” he said, his tone low, almost feverish.
She let her magic go, and it fell away like a shiver down her spine.
Hades held her tighter, lifting her body higher. She knew without words what he was asking, and she answered, guiding the head of his cock to her entrance. She braced her hands against his shoulders as she seated herself on him, breathing through the pleasure as it coursed through her body, rattling her mind.
She wrapped her arms around him tighter, and as they moved together, all she could focus on was the feelings he conjured. This was a magic of its own, separate from any divine gift, and it let her live in a single moment of pure ecstasy, far from the grief and sorrow of her life.
Except for the part where it wasn’t real, and suddenly her arousal was cut through with pain.
Persephone twined her fingers in Hades’s hair and drew his head back, her lips colliding with his as tears streamed down her face.
“Lie down,” she said as she pulled away.
Hades held her gaze but did as she asked, shifting onto his back. She adjusted her position, her palms flat on his chest.
“Tell me,” he said, though his body tightened beneath hers as she began to move.
“There is nothing to say,” she replied. Reaching for his hands, she brought them to her breasts.
“You always have something to say,” he said, teasing her flesh with his fingers.
“A god once told me that words mean nothing,” she said, growing breathless.
“Your god was a fool,” he replied, his hands falling to her hips where he gripped her harder, moving faster.
“Oh?” she asked on a moan.
“Some words are not meaningless,” he said.
She could no longer say anything, and he did not speak as her body seized with pleasure. It wasn’t until she collapsed atop Hades that he finished, whispering the words against her temple.
“I love you, Persephone.”
“Persephone.”
She squeezed her eyes tighter, clinging to her dream a little longer, but already she could feel the weight of Hades’s arms slipping away.
“Persephone.”
She opened her eyes and found Hecate standing over her. It took her a moment to get her bearings, and then she realized she was in her bed. Thanatos must have taken her from the Asphodel Fields.
“Hecate,” she whispered as she sat up, an ache forming between her brows. “Is everything all right?”
“I believe I have found Hades,” Hecate said.
Persephone had been so desperate to hear those words for so long, she could hardly believe they were true.
“Where is he?” she asked, rising to her feet.
Hecate did not respond immediately, and Persephone’s soaring hope quickly turned to dread.
“Hecate?”
“He’s at Knossos,” she said.
“Knossos?” Persephone asked, confused. Knossos was a city on the island of Crete. “But there is nothing there but ruins.”
“Come,” Hecate said, extending her hand.
Persephone could already feel Hecate’s magic, ancient and electric, curling around her. Her heart rose in her throat as she took the goddess’s hand and they teleported.
She half expected to appear before the ruins of Knossos but was surprised when she was brought to Hades’s office at Nevernight. Hermes lay on Hades’s desk while Apollo took shots of vodka from behind the bar. A mortal sat with his hands tied behind his back. He was an older man with a sharp nose, round wire glasses, and a mostly bald head.
“What’s going on?” Persephone asked. “Who is this?”
“I’m Robert,” said the man.
“He’s Robert,” Apollo and Hermes said.
They all spoke in unison. It made Persephone flinch.
“And who is Robert?” Persephone asked with more patience than she felt.
Hecate had just found Hades, and these two were…well, she wasn’t sure what they were doing.
“I’m an architect,” said Robert.
“He’s an architect,” Apollo and Hermes said.
They sounded bored.
Persephone exchanged a look with Hecate, who rolled her eyes before sending a surge of magic in both gods’ directions. Hermes shot up from Hades’s desk and landed on the hard marble floor, a sharp obsidian thorn in the spot where he had once lain. The vodka in Apollo’s glass turned to sand just as he shot it into his mouth. He spat it out quickly, choking on the dirt.
“What the fuck?” they said.
Hermes climbed to his feet from the floor, and Apollo searched frantically for something wet, settling on an open bottle of wine to gargle.
“My husband is missing, and Hecate tells me that he is at Knossos, and instead of taking me to him, she brought me to you,” Persephone said, her voice shaking with anger. “One of you tell me what the fuck is going on.”
Hermes and Apollo exchanged a look.
“I’m afraid that is why I am here,” said Robert.
Persephone’s eyes fell to the mortal.
“And what do you have to do with my husband and Knossos?”
“I am an architect,” he said.
Persephone could not keep a handle on her magic, and she didn’t want to. It flared to life, heavy and dark, as black spires shot from the tips of her fingers.
The mortal’s eyes widened, and he seemed to press himself farther into his chair.
She felt a hand on her arm and turned to look at Hecate.
“What the idiots are trying to say is that the ruins at Knossos are no longer ruins,” Hecate said.
“Theseus has been rebuilding the labyrinth,” said Apollo.
“So we thought we would find his builder,” said Hermes.
“Architect,” Robert corrected.
“But it turns out Robert here was just the first builder,” Apollo continued.
“Architect,” Robert said again.
“The first one?” Persephone asked.
“He hires and fires them,” said Hermes. “The—”
“Architects,” Robert and Hermes said at the same time.
“Why?” Persephone asked.
“He thinks it will add to the perplexity of his labyrinth,” said Apollo.
“I told him it wasn’t so,” said Robert. “All he needed was a great architect, but he wanted it to be inescapable.”
Persephone frowned, holding the mortal’s gaze.
“And…why are you here again?”
“We thought we would get to torture him into telling us how to get through the labyrinth,” said Hermes. “Turns out he’s cooperative.”
“I think you are upset about the wrong thing, Hermes,” Hecate advised.
The God of Mischief crossed his arms over his chest.
“You are telling me Hades is trapped in a labyrinth?” Persephone asked.
“It is more than likely,” said Robert. “I do not know much about Theseus’s plans beyond the fact that he wanted a type of prison. He insisted it be constructed from adamant.”
“Well, that is unfortunate,” said Hecate.
Persephone looked at the goddess. “What is it?”
“It is a metal that was forged by Gaia,” Hecate said. “It means that entering the labyrinth will be like becoming a mortal. It also means we cannot teleport inside or out.”
The more she learned, the more anxious Persephone became, but things were making sense. Now she knew why she could not feel Hades’s magic.
“So the only way to reach him is to go through the labyrinth,” Persephone said, more to herself than anyone else.
“Do you know which part of the labyrinth you built?” asked Apollo. “We could find the other architects and piece together a map.”
But Robert shook his head. “It would be too hard to say which part was mine, and I imagine it would be the same for the others.”
Persephone studied the mortal. “Why are you so compliant?” she asked, a little suspicious.
“Theseus never asked us what gods we served,” said the man. “I have always been pious, and pious I will always be.”
His sincerity rang true.
“Thank you, Robert.”
He smiled. “Of course, my lady,” he said with a nod. “Er…would anyone be willing to…untie my hands? They’re a little numb.”
Persephone turned her gaze to Apollo and Hermes. “Take him home, and one of you…grant him a favor.”
Apollo and Hermes exchanged a look and then spoke in unison. “We can’t.”
Then Persephone remembered what Aphrodite said—that Zeus had stripped them of their powers.
“Well, how did you get him here?”
“The old-fashioned way,” said Hermes.
“I think you mean the mortal way,” said Apollo.
“We abducted him from outside his work,” Hermes explained. “Antoni helped us.”
“Did anyone see you?” Persephone asked.
“Does it matter?” asked Hermes.
“It does if Theseus’s men are watching,” said Persephone.
Hermes pursed his lips, and Apollo frowned.
“I doubt Theseus would waste his resources on me,” said Robert. “I am one cog in his machine.”
“And if one breaks, the whole thing comes down,” Persephone said. “Theseus does not like loose ends.” She looked at Hecate. “What can be done?” She did not wish for the man to suffer for his loyalty to the gods.
“I can cast a protection spell,” Hecate said. “Though they are not infallible.”
“I am grateful for anything,” said Robert. “I only wish I could’ve helped more.”
Persephone met the mortal’s gaze. “You have helped enough. Thank you.”
Hecate teleported with Robert and returned in seconds.
“Will he be safe?” Persephone asked.
“I’m not sure anyone is safe,” said Hecate.
Her words made Persephone’s stomach drop.
“You will not be able to take responsibility for every mortal who crosses paths with Theseus,” said Hecate.
“No, but I would rather not see them die for helping us.”
“He made his choice,” Hecate said.
Persephone could not argue. There were greater things at stake.
“We have to go to Knossos,” she said.
“Hold on, Seph,” said Apollo. “This is clearly a trap.”
“I am aware,” she said, but it changed nothing.
“I know you are eager to bring Hades home,” said Hecate. “But we must proceed with caution. Apollo is right. It is evident Theseus used your ring to trap Hades, and it is likely he knows we will track its energy. He wants you in that labyrinth. He is counting on it.”
Persephone did not doubt that either. Theseus was toying with them.
“I think I know someone who can help,” said Hermes. “Or at least let us know what we’re up against.”
“Who?” Persephone asked.
“Her name is Ariadne,” he said. “Ariadne Alexiou.”
