Persephone whispered, pressing herself into his side, “Why does he do this?”
His arms tightened about her, her presence the only thing that eased him. The look on Hermes’ face told him there was more. “What else is there, Hermes?”
Hermes took a deep breath. “Poseidon…”
Hades sucked in a sharp breath.
“He’d given Erysichthon a draft, one of Aphrodite’s potions. He gave the poor mortal a vial when he should have had no more than a drop. He sought to make the match take…”
“So he says,” Hades sneered. “Go on.”
“It was through Poseidon’s hand that Erysichthon fell to madness?” Persephone gasped.
“He confessed all when he learned of Erysichthon’s plan. Indeed, he felt such conscience over his part that he sought to offer aid to Erysichthon’s daughter. It was through the daughter and the last of Erysichthon’s men that Poseidon learned of the plan.”
“What plan?” Hades’ patience was gone. His grip on Persephone had tightened, but she seemed to need his arms about her as much as he needed to hold her.
Hermes’ words spilled out. “He’s rallied those left to wander, those souls that cannot cross. He will take Persephone and try to overthrow you.”
Persephone gasped, turning into his chest.
“Aeacus.” Hades did not hesitate. “Go to Tartarus. Inform Didymos and the Erinyes. Put guards along the Rivers Acheron, Cocytus and Styx. Have Minos rally Asphodel and send Rhadamanthys to Elysium. We will be ready. Send me Cerberus.”
Aeacus nodded, bowing low before he left the chamber.
Persephone was clinging to him, her hands twisting in his tunic. “I cannot go. I will not leave you.”
Hades’ heart throbbed, so sweet were her words.
Hermes watched them, his tawny eyes full of sympathy. “We must take her to Olympus, Hades. Before the sun is set.”
Hades nodded.
“I will not go,” she cried.
“You will.” He gripped her shoulders, pulling her back to look up at him. “You will go.”
Her eyes were true green, sparkling with tears. “Please let me stay.”
Her words tore at him. He felt an unaccountable ache at the back of his throat, a heaviness in his lungs and stinging in his eyes. “I told you, Persephone. You knew you could not stay here, not forever.”
She shook her head, the tears flowing freely down her cheeks. “But… but…”
His hands tightened on her shoulders. He cursed himself as he pulled her against his chest, holding her tightly against him. He buried his nose in her hair, drawing in a deep breath. Her scent flooded him, making him ache with sadness.
He set her aside. “Hermes…”
He did not look at Hermes, but gently pushed her into his waiting arms. He could not bear it, could not bear the pain that gripped him. It was right. She did not belong here, in his realm or in his heart. She was a Goddess of the earth, of growth. He was the Lord of Death.
He would see her to Olympus, see her to safety… as was his duty. And then he would never see her again. He could only wish that his heart, this foolish hope, would stay with her.
He could not think as he called up his horses, lacing them into their harnesses without a word. But when he was done, he leaned against Orphnaeus’ flank. His lungs rebelled against the air he sought to pull in. And pain, sharp and hot, almost forced him to his knees. He swallowed, the strange tremor of his
mouth and the hitch of his breath angering him.
He pushed off of the horse, climbing into the chariot’s basket and snapping the horses forward.
Cerberus ran beside them, claws tearing up the turf. Hades cast the briefest glances upon the beast, but saw his sorrow echoed in their six golden eyes. They, Theron the most, would feel her absence.