I watched my teacher cross the River Styx in Charon’s boat, trading a few words of conversation with the ferryman, then saw her venture into the realms beyond. Atalanta walked through the mists of the Underworld until she came across a grey field where groups of shades lounged.
I think she would have kept walking – that was Atalanta for you, always eager to explore the peripheries of any new place – but she paused midstep, a look of wonder on her face. She recognized someone.
Two shades rose from the mist to greet her. One of them was a slight man with dark hair, with a wry and mischievous face. The other possessed a noble bearing that could only belong to a king. I knew at once that this must be Meleager, who had helped Atalanta slay the Calydonian boar and defended her honour against those who said women had no place in the hunt. That meant the slighter man next to him was Melanion, Atalanta’s husband, killed by Aphrodite so long ago.
Atalanta’s eyes flicked back and forth between the two men,whispering their names. I had never seen such an expression on my teacher’s face, amazement and impossible hope, like she was watching the sun rise after the longest night of the year.
The taller man smiled and nodded, exchanging an ironic glance with Melanion. ‘Your husband here has been telling me what transpired in my absence. It seems you have won great fame for yourself …’
Then I came to myself again, standing in the onyx hall. Tears filled my eyes, but there was a lightness in my heart that had not been there before.
Persephone was looking at me with terrible compassion. I saw that what Medusa said was true: It was not only through ruthlessness that Persephone held power here in the Underworld, beyond the gates of death.
‘Now go back to the land of the living,’ Persephone said softly, inclining her head. ‘This place is not meant to have you yet. Hurry back.’
I was dismissed. A door appeared in the fringes of my vision, and I walked through it without a backward glance.
Charon was waiting for me by the dock, his skeletal hands wrapped around the oar. I fished the remaining coin from the satchel I still wore strapped across my body and held it out to him.
The bottomless darkness of the cowl turned to face me. ‘I gave my word that I would carry you back,’ he rasped. ‘You do not need to pay your fare twice.’
I did not lower my hand.Take it, I thought, remembering the prohibition against speaking to those I encountered in the Underworld, though I willed him to understand.Apply it to the bill of one of those shades flitting along the far shore of the River Styx,who died without anyone to lay a coin on their tongue. Let them cross the river and find rest at last.
Under Charon’s hood, I saw the glint of eyes, and thought he understood. A sinewy hand plucked the coin from the air and spirited it into the depths of his robe.
I leaned against the side of the boat, watching the waters part soundlessly. I had never been this tired before, not even when I fled from the ruins of the seaside house or the grave of Iphigenia. My knees and feet ached fiercely, and I found myself envious of the dead, who were no longer burdened by the demands of living flesh.
Eventually we reached the other side of the river. Charon said nothing as I set foot on land, but when I looked back, I saw he had raised one hand in farewell.
I walked through the winding trail that cut through the barren landscape like a scar, my footsteps slow and plodding. I met Cerberus, who seemed smaller now. As soon as I saw the ears prick over the treetops, I tossed the last biscuit into the air. I wondered idly if Cerberus would scent the trick this time and tear me apart, but instead the three heads collided with one another once more, snarling and tearing over the scrap of a treat.
I passed through the clearing where I had seen the spectral man and his donkey; it was empty now. Not long afterwards I came to the bridge, feeling almost disappointed when I did not see the familiar form of Medusa waiting for me.
Beyond the bridge was the road of cypresses, and beyond that was the dark tunnel that led to Eleusis and the world of the living.
Hope flared in me. I began to run, cypresses whizzing past me. I bounded past the trees and into the darkness of the tunnel, my feet finding their way along the smooth earth. Before long,I stumbled into the light of the early morning sun in the land of the living.
It was just after dawn, and sunlight had not yet reached the shadows of the cave at the centre of the amphitheatre. I gulped the sweet air and listened to the birds singing, my heart pounding a victory march. I was alive, and I had won. I clutched the box that Persephone had given me, caressing it like a treasure.
I paused for a moment and looked back at the darkness. I was no Orpheus to lose his Eurydice from this folly. I only wanted to remember the way when I had cause to follow it again. Somewhere in that darkness were my parents, Iphigenia, Atalanta, and Zephyrus’s beloved Hyacinthos. I had hoped for a glimpse of them, a chance to say the farewells that death had stolen from us. But Persephone was right – their stories were no longer mine.
There is danger in premature celebration, as Orpheus himself could have reminded me. As I clambered up the smooth stone stairs, box of beauty cream in hand, I slipped and missed a step.
In all the years I’d lived, I had never stumbled – not once. I had never been less than sure-footed, but on that day, I tripped. In the moment of weightless shock as I fell, I grappled with Persephone’s box, and the cover slid off.
Persephone had warned me not to open the box myself. Unbeknown to me, she had reasoned she could kill two birds with one stone, seizing the chance for petty revenge against Aphrodite under the guise of keeping her word to Eros.
The box did not contain beauty cream, but a curse fit for a goddess. And I was only a mortal woman.
41
Eros
When I woke, Hekate was sitting by the side of the bed. I flinched back, wondering how long she had been watching me.
Her expression was grave. ‘I found her. Your wife, Psyche.’
My heart rose. I tried to get up but was forced back down by the surprisingly strong arm of Hekate.
