“Protect her,” Hades spoke harshly. “So that we will only miss her while she is safe upon Olympus, instead of her being lost to us forever.”
Three sets of eyes narrowed, three sets of ears stood alert. The snapping jaws bared their teeth, growling and howling. Rows of serpents, green and brown, crowned Cerberus like a lion’s mane. They writhed and hissed, heeding his warning. Cerberus’ mighty tail, a spiked rudder, swung forcefully.
The beast heard him, then.
By the time he’d reached the bridge, he’d managed to steady himself. After years of control, he would not reveal himself now. Now, when he needed to send her away… He must. To keep her safe.
Hermes waited, Persephone at his side.
He did not look at her, but drew the horses up.
“We’ll not be alone,” Hermes assured him, helping Persephone into the chariot. “Every wood nymph of Thessaly has come to your aid. If we go now, they can keep the shades in the trees.”
“Why?” Persephone’s words were hollow… broken.
He’d not meant to look at her. “Souls are strongest in the shadows… in the night.” His eyes found hers and his voice softened under her gaze. “They offer little threat now, when the sun is high.”
She nodded, her face drawn. She looked too fragile, too frightened. He scowled, but she’d turned from him. She stared at Cerberus, a small smile on her lips. “Hello,” she murmured.
Cerberus whimpered then growled.
“Hermes will lead us out,” Hades said.
She nodded again.
“I’ll go on ahead,” Hermes said, his brow creasing as he glanced between them.
“Thank you, Hermes,” she said.
Hades’ hands tightened on the reins as he nodded at Hermes. Hermes sighed and turned, disappearing on the wind.
With a crack of the reins, they started off. He was aware of how stiffly she stood, how her hands gripped the chariot’s rail. With every bounce and jolt, she grew more rigid.
He could not hold himself silent. “Persephone.” She looked at him with tear-filled eyes.
Words failed him then. What reassurance could he offer her? None. “Hold tight. The road worsens ahead.”
Her chin quivered, but she nodded.
The chariot bounced, the chargers flying across the ground without pause. His cave, his sanctuary, seemed alive with menace, every shadow and crevice full of threat. It was with relief that true sunlight poured from the cave’s opening. He blinked, the white light strong after so long in his realm. He glanced at Persephone, his heart in his throat.
Her eyes were closed, but her face was tilted to the sun’s rays. She glowed, golden, ever brighter as they left the cave.
Cerberus howled in farewell. They could not cross over.
Persephone looked back, her green eyes searching the cave. “Good-bye,” she murmured, her breath hitching.
He tore his gaze from her, swallowing the words that welled up within him.
Her hand reached out, covering one of his, pulling at him unsteadily. He took a deep breath, her touch burning into him, connecting them once more. His hand twisted, gripping hers tightly.
She moved to his side, but did not lean into him. Her face changed, her brow furrowing as they left the cover of the rocky cliffs that bordered his realm. It was the sight of the long grassed plains, their golden stalks grey and brittle, that held her attention now. They did not wave in the wind, but splintered beneath the chargers’ hooves.
He watched her dangle her other hand over the edge of the chariot basket.
“What happened here?” she asked.
He followed her gaze. No war had ravaged this place. But something had happened. He’d never seen this realm so untended, so bleak. “I know not.”