Melinoe’s head jerked up. “Cyane is gone.”
“You think I don’t know that?”
The goddess’s eyes flickered between Hades and Cerberus. “Don’t punish Cerberus for my offense,” she said, stunning them both.
Cerberus growled. Why was Melinoe taking this? Was it because he gave her what she wanted? Was a putrid goddess like her so easily pleased?
Hades flung his hands into the air. “I’m surrounded by liars.” He turned back to this throne and dropped into it. “And plagued by insanity! What have I done to deserve this?”
Melinoe stood. “I made a deal with Cyane in exchange for her freedom. Her end of the bargain was satisfied, so I let her go. Cerberus only sought to be loyal. Do not blame him for my mistake, please.”
“And what did you get out of it, dear daughter?”
“I know,” Melinoe said with a quick breath. “I know everything.”
Hades cupped his brow and massaged it with his fingers. “It wasn’t out of loyalty, Melinoe. It was to protect the mortal.”
Confusion marred the goddess’ face.
Hades turned back to Cerberus. “Protection?” Hades whispered, lowering his voice with warning. “You will be punished.”
The giant doors to the ballroom creaked, and the subtle smell of new flowers filtered through the air. Cerberus quickly moved to Hades’s left side and knelt. Melinoe fell back to the floor where she chose to remain off to the side, her palms before her, fingers outstretched.
Hades jumped from his throne and strode hurriedly toward the two women entering. He made it several steps before he came to a dead stop.
Persephone, in glorious sun-dappled yellow, once the Goddess of Flowers and now the Goddess of the Dead, shyly wrung her hands as she made her way towards Hades. Even from where Cerberus knelt, he saw his queen’s eyes rove over the destruction in the grand room. Curiosity and worry flitted over her face, as well as excitement, reserved for when her eyes landed back on Hades.
Innocence—the kind of innocence one gave their life for eagerly—radiated off his queen. Cerberus had never enjoyed more than contentment for a job well done as the celebration came to an end, but not this time. Jealousy seized him as he watched Hades and his stolen queen reunite.
His lord—now tense with excitement—grabbed Persephone and embraced her, burying his face into the hair bunched at her neck.
She pushed out of his arms, and looked at Cerberus. He stiffened wondering what his queen thought at that moment.
Usually, there was fan faire, flowers, and all the gods of the Underworld here for her return.
“My queen,” Hades said with adoration.
Persephone looked back at him. “What have you done?”
Suddenly, a burst of energy split the space, a power that did not belong so deep in Hades’s kingdom. Cerberus snarled, rising up. What now?
Hades grabbed Persephone and pulled her towards him, and Cerberus rushed to protect his lord and queen.
The scent of Hermes’s magic met his nose as Cerberus’s hounds rushed forward.
But every single one stopped as the God of Crossings appeared, for by his side was a sobbing, wet human that Cerberus knew all too well.
Persephone’s Abduction
Cyane fellto the ground with a retch. Traveling with Cerberus had never induced such intense vertigo. But with Hermes, her head whirled until she was releasing nothing but bile and spittle from her empty stomach.
Hermes stepped away with a sound of disgust.
She swallowed down another wave of nausea and wiped her mouth with her hand.
They were on a water bank, with reeds and brush all around. In the distance, there were walkways and bridges where only a few people hung around. Everything was overgrown and wild, but kept well, as if the proprietors cared a great deal to keep the integrity of the site intact. Cyane glanced up to see the sun rising in the sky. Morning.
Hermes leaned upon a nearby tree and fingered a strange plant. “The only place in the world where papyrus still grows wild,” he muttered, as if that had any relevance at all.
