Minox glances at me, his brow furrowed slightly. He seems perplexed yet calm. The hours since Persephone went to Olympus have been a strain on my advisers.
“Then why did you come?”
Minox inclines his head, as if he was expecting me to ask this question. “I came to await your orders, my Lord. I saw the lightning and wanted to make myself available in the event you wanted to send word.”
I almost laugh, a harsh, bitter sound, but I do not let it out. The sweet drink sloshes in the glass before I take a heavy gulp and huff a response. Send word to Olympus? Send word to Zeus? Should we scry once again so he can tell himself he did nothing wrong? Should I watch him through the mirror and stifle the urge to smash the whole thing to pieces?
No. No, of course not. The lightning was a sign that Zeus is in no mood to have a civil conversation.
A smirk reaches my lips at the thought. “Your instincts were correct, Minox. I do want to send word.”
It’s not long before Minox leaves my rooms; I finish my drink and then leave as well. I adjust my robe and crown, before settling on what will likely occur next.
He will be efficient in sending my message. I won’t have to wait long for the conversation that is to come.
Stealthily, I head to my andron. Perhaps this is the center of the labyrinth. It is, after all, the only place I can scry with Persephone, but it is not my queen who I have sent word to. My love must do this on her own. I shall wait in the shadows of the depths of her soul to need me. For I will always be there.
As I step inside the andron, Cerberus follows, shaking the night air off his fur and coming to my side. His feet pat rhythmically, the sound is soothing to the anxiousness that heats every inch of my skin. He peers up at me questioningly.
“There’s no need to worry, Cerberus. I have responded to the storm. It will not bother you again tonight.”
I stroke his fur.
“I hope it will not bother you again tonight,” I add, because I cannot guarantee that Zeus will remain calm. “In the meantime, I will speak with someone who may be able to make Zeus see reason.”
Cerberus barks, all three of his heads chiming in at different times. I let out a short laugh. My mind is wound too tight around Persephone’s absence for genuine delight, but it is close enough.
I straighten and wave my hand at the largest grate. The fire had burned low, but it flares again, casting its reflection into the obsidian. The flames lick up the ashes and flicker into a bright light. The sight is a reminder of Persephone’s face in the firelight at Olympus. The sunset becoming an ember behind her. The pink, soft folds between her thighs. Her power surging through the glass.
A shiver quakes in me. Her power had been evident. Zeus’s attempt to starve her of it has failed. I have no doubt that he has recognized it, and that is why he felt such fury tonight.
With the flames echoing in my gaze, I know he has only himself to blame for what comes next. Zeus did not need to cower in the face of the prophecy. He didn’t have to resort to these machinations to ensure his rule.
A loud crack blisters through my thoughts, and I turn toward the sound. Eerily, calmly, and expectantly. If my heart beats faster, it’s because I’m impatient to say what must be said.
Hecate, in all her glory, strides across the andron, running her fingers through her hair and tossing it over her shoulders. The dark robe she wears this evening is reminiscent of the ashes in the fire.
“Send her to the mortal realm,” she says calmly, her low voice still echoing against the walls as she arrives at my side of the andron. “Demeter and Persephone can live there until it is decided.”
A crease forms in the middle of my brow as I tell her, “You do not know why I have called you here.”
“Send her to the mortal realm,” Hecate insists. “You know it is for the best.”
“I do not.”
Hecate narrows her eyes, the darkness knows no depth in them. “Why have you called me here, Hades?”
“It is time for my queen to return.”
“Surely, you can see the wisdom in sending her to the mortal realm. With her mother. A chance for healing and for Demeter to see reason. To see the strength in her child and what good has come.”
“There is no wisdom in being separated from my queen. I cannot allow her to stay in Zeus’s presence any longer. Not when he fears her strength.”
Hecate waves this off. “He fears all his children.”
“The problem is that he does not fear me. Minox,” I call. Raising my voice, even slightly, isn’t necessary but in my desperation I am unable to stop myself. I could call to Minox in a whisper, and he would hear me from the farthest reaches of the Underworld and come to my side.
He glides out of the shadows, his form materializing as he steps into the firelight. He lifts his bowed head. “My Lord?”
