He turned and walked away, disappearing into the veil. Patrick hoped that moment didn’t last long. Time ran quicker in the mortal realm than past the veil. Every second he remained in the Underworld was hours back on Earth. Patrick couldn’t afford to lose that much time, not this close to Samhain.
Hurry up and wait was never so nerve-racking as it was right then. Patrick didn’t let out a sigh of relief when Hermes finally returned, but it was close. The god stepped through the veil some minutes later, the fog of its edges clinging to him.
“He awaits your arrival,” Hermes said to Persephone.
Persephone said nothing as she led them to the shoreline. Patrick was unsurprised to see a faint, hazy glow bobbing closer on the horizon. When Charon finally made it close to shore, the ferryman bowed his cowled head in deference to his queen.
Persephone led the way to his boat, brackish water splashing against the bones that made up the hull. The skulls that acted as lanterns at the prow of the boat and on top of Charon’s ancient wooden pole provided just enough light to see by. Patrick clambered into the boat, the vessel rocking ominously. When they were all three sitting on the cold wooden benches, Charon used the pole to shove the boat away from the shore.
No coin was needed for passage this time, not with Persephone and Hermes seated with him in the boat. Patrick settled the iron box on his lap and held it with both hands, staring into the fog around them and trying not to think about what existed below in the waters of the River Styx.
When the fog finally parted and the boat came to ground on another shore, Persephone rose smoothly to her feet. “Thank you, Charon.”
The ferryman waited until they all made it to shore before pushing away again, drifting back into the currents, ready to ferry whatever souls came his way to the Underworld. Hermes led them away from the River Styx and through the fog of the veil back to the mortal realm.
Patrick’s feet sank into wet grass as the veil finally faded away, replaced with Salem Common. The reactionary storm here wasn’t as bad as the one in New York, but it was still proof of an excessive amount of magic at play. He didn’t know what day it was, only that it was night, and he doubted it was the Monday he’d left behind on the Brooklyn Bridge. If he was lucky, it was very early Tuesday morning.
The gazebo that took up prominence in Salem Common was guarded by Cerberus, but Patrick barely paid the three-headed hellhound any attention. All of his focus was on the god standing inside the gazebo with his grandmother. Despite all the times they’d faced each other before, Patrick appeared to be an afterthought to the god compared to Persephone.
Lightning flashed above, illuminating the park. Persephone walked forward without worry, holding out both hands to Cerberus. The immortal bent all three heads to her hands, shoving against each other to get the first pet.
“Oh, my darlings, I’ve missed you so,” she crooned.
Cerberus wagged his tail, looking for all the world like an overgrown puppy.
“Seph,” Hades said after a moment, the diminutive endearment of her name practically ground out between his teeth.
She stared up at her husband, the rain pouring down around her but missing her entirely by way of magic. “I must admit, I did not expect you to come.”
“You haven’t reached out to me in over twenty years.”
“You know why.” Something like grief passed over Hades’ face before it was replaced with a hardness that made Persephone firm her jaw. “You’ve enabled our demise.”
“I’ve worked to keep our daughter safe,” Hades countered.
“You’ve let that bastard prey on her godhead for over two decades. How is that keeping her safe?”
“He hasn’t laid claim to it since he ensnared her. All his attempts have failed.”
“You’ve stood by his side and watched himtry. That doesn’t absolve you.”
Hades walked down the steps of the gazebo, dragging Eloise with him. Hellfire preceded every step, burning outward to surround where they stood.
Eloise was gray-faced in the lingering flash of lightning and the glow of hellfire that rose up to encircle where they stood. Her gaze was vacant, as if she weren’t present in her body. Patrick tightened his grip on the iron box, wanting desperately to get her out of Hades’ reach.
“I came because Hermes said you wished to talk. Sotalk,” Hades ground out.
“I am not who you need to talk to.” Persephone turned her head to look at Patrick. “He is.”
Patrick held up the iron box. “Loki said something about a trade. So here I am.”
Hades’ eyes narrowed, but he didn’t let go of Eloise. “It was unwise of you to come, even with my wife.”
“It seemed an acceptable risk.”
“You think highly of your survival.”
“I’m here to ensure Eloise’s.”
