The Fates’ plans were always difficult to pinpoint, even through happenstance or pre-strung threads that we couldn’t sever if we tried. The mirror pool had to show me Persephone repeatedly for a reason, and I refused to believe this was it for us. To spend the rest of our waking eternal days as passing ships in the night? Never speaking. Never being so much as arm’s reach of one another? No. She needed time. I was sure of it.
Before the events of this week, I wouldn’t have thought it possible for a god-king to have a mortal headache the size of Olympus. Not only had Persephone’s cries not subsided due to the food giving her renewed vigor, but she’d now begun to call out to any god or goddess she could think of to help her. Even if any of them would’ve bothered to put her needs above theirs, they knew better than to try and fiddle with anything Underworld-related. Not to mention, they feared me, feared what I could do, and the power I possessed. Power I never flaunted, which made it all the more mysterious and foreboding.
It was when she started talking to herself as if her mother and friends were in the room with her that she plucked the finalstring that was my patience. The woman was stuck here because of me, and though I could do nothing to ease her pain besides leave her be, there was someone whocoulddo something.
Pacing on the banks of Styx, I flared my ember wings and called for my brother. There was no reason to beckon any of us audibly, not between the brother kings. We had an unspoken celestial communication system that would span the known universe and beyond. It was how we ensured we could uphold our duties under any circumstance.
It took several beats and numerous tugs, but eventually Zeus appeared in a blinding flash of lightning. He wore only his white toga embroidered with gold this time, long silver strands pulled back and away from his eyes. I’d expected him to be angry that I demanded his presence days before we were due to meet, but he surprised me when his expression flooded with concern.
“Let me take a wild guess,” Zeus started, swinging his spear in one palm before leaning on a cave wall. “This concerns a certain blonde spring goddess?”
After taking a deep breath to steady my tone, which I was sure would come out rushed and haughty, I stepped in front of him. “For her sanity and for myown, brother, she cannot stay here.”
Zeus glared at me before pushing off the rock and bringing us within a breath of each other. “She must stay here, Hades. We both know the rules. Rules that were laid out far before we took reign.”
Dragging a hand over my chin, wincing at the stubble that’d begun to form these past few days, I made the flames of my wings burn brighter. “Besides being King of the Gods, you’re also a king ofmeddling. Surely, there has to be a loophole.”
Zeus pressed a hand to his chest. “I’m flattered, brother, but I’ve never had a reason to so much as think of a way around it. Itwould take time. Time, I don’thave.” He rubbed the shoulder of the same arm that held the spear, resting it on the ground.
If it took groveling at my younger brother’s feet to reverse the damage I’d caused, it wasn’t beneath me to do so.
“Zeus,” I breathed out, grasping his shoulders and garnering his attention. “Please do something about this. Anything. I don’t have that kind of power, and if you want me at my best?—”
As if she could hear our conversation and wished to convince Zeus further, Persephone’s cries bounced from the cave walls. They’d traveled all the way from the living quarters to the throne room this time.
Wincing and prying from my touch, Zeus strolled along the riverbank, dragging his spear behind him and drawing a line. “I would’ve done something without the pleading, Hades, but it was certainly something I soon won’t forget.”
The fire that made up my crown raged fiercer. “What?”
“Ironically, I was going to visit early because of this very same problem.” Zeus paused, drawing a zeta symbol in the sand.
Fury threatened my usual cool demeanor, and I stormed forward, the smoke from the river fueling my movement. “Words, Zeus.Speakthem.”
“Demeter is incredibly distraught over the sudden disappearance of her daughter.” Zeus waved his hand at the skies, providing a preview of the surface. The meadow, once green and beaming with sunlight, stood grey and lifeless now. “Our dear sister has threatened never to let the sunlight return in this region of the planet until Persephone is back in her arms.”
A low growl bubbled in the back of my throat. “And she has the power.”
“Yes, she unfortunately fucking does. Were we not all sprung from the same loins, I may have been able to counteract it.”
If the color could have drained from my face, it would have. Feeling for a cave wall, I pressed a hand to it for support and dug my claws into it. “Shit,” I mumbled.
“It gets worse.” Zeus sighed and kneaded his shoulder again. “She threatened to bring snow and bitter cold next if she’s not returned.”
Rubbing a knuckle under my chin, I prowled back in front of him. “Think, brother. Is there a compromise to be made?I’mthe one who cannot leave, but one week a year, andyougranted me that.”
Zeus tapped the butt end of the spear several times before he bounced it into his grasp, pointing at me with it. “You’re right. Let me speak with the council. I—” He raked his hands through his white and silver beard. “—have something in mind.”
“It doesn’t involve more groveling on my part, does it?” I was only partially joking with that question.
Zeus patted my cheek. “Not this time, brother. I’ll be back as soon as I have their agreement.”
“That confident they’ll give it to you?”
Zeus conjured his armor, the radiant golden crown now resting on his head. “You know me. Ialwaysget my way.” He flashed me a sly smile before disappearing.
If that wasn’t the cold, hard truth. I’d always despised him for it too, but in this rare circumstance, Ineededhim to get his way—for her.
Blue flames flickered from the onyx fireplace in my quarters, and I stared into the fire with my hand on the mantle. I caught up Styx for now, but would undoubtedly fill with more souls within the hour. I took what little time I had for breaks, for rest, and sometimes even a bit of sleep. That, too, was something I’d always dreamed of sharing—the burdens. Still, the guilt always prevailed over my expectations for anyone not only to desire doing the job, but also to take it seriously.
