CHAPTER THIRTY TWO
THE SECOND WAY TO SKIN A CAT
Her wrists itched.
Scratch. Scratch.
The back of her neck itched.
Scratch. Scratch.
Her bandages itched. Everything itched.
Persephone wanted out, but there was no way. There were two ways out of the Underworld. One was by way of Charon and the river. Anything that Persephone might have used for payment was gone. All her jewelry had been removed. In the old days, her clothes were covered in adornments, sometimes with jewels sewn in. Her wardrobe was shockingly bare. All the ornaments in the other rooms of the palace had been nailed down or taken away. There was nothing Persephone could do. Without payment, Charon wouldn’t take her anywhere. The other exit was above the judgment room. Normally the army of the Underworld dwelt in those upper chambers, where they could easily be dispatched should the need arise. As a goddess, she could get past them. She had done it before when she went to meet Seth during his second life. The problem was that Hades had moved Cerberus. Normally, he guarded a certain stretch of the river Styx, but he was moved to the upper chambers to prevent her from escaping.
“You can’t get out that way,” Hades had said. “His teeth would tear you to ribbons.”
The scabs on her stomach itched.
Scratch. Scratch.
Persephone dressed in loose clothes which mostly consisted of stretchy maxi skirts and hoodies. Considering her condition, she would have preferred her traditional Grecian robes, but alas, all of them had been confiscated since they needed pins and brooches to keep them in place. Since she was still healing, anything that wasn’t tight around her stomach was fine.
Time spread out endlessly in front of her. How could she fill it? That was the eternal question. Sometimes she spent the hours judging the dead.
The first one was a liar.
The next one was a thief and a liar.
The one after that was a murderer, a thief, and a liar.
It went on. And there was never any end.
It was December. Maybe. Or was it January?
Sometimes she spent the time counting each vertebra in her spinal cord. Other times she measured her ribs individually.
She wanted a book to read, but books written by humans were too low for Hades, and books written by Apollo were censored. The Underworld only had two books. One was a guidebook for Necromancy that was sometimes given to humans on loan, and the second was a copy of a three-part diary written by Hades’ father, Cronus. He was also Persephone’s grandfather. Awkwardly enough, he didn’t have anything interesting to say. Hades kept it as a memory. After all, Hades was a man who had helped overthrow his own father. Having done that, couldn’t he tell aged chains when he saw them?
Sometimes she sat on a branch in the tree room beyond her bedroom and blew soapy bubbles into the dead space.
Even though Hades swore up and down that he loved Persephone and wanted to be with her, in the time that followed, he was rarely home. She didn’t know where he went or what he did.
Her only companion during this time was Juliet, still plugged up in her bottle. Persephone would uncork the top and talk to her little lost soul. One of the nothing days, she realized that the bottle was gone—completely gone off her dresser without a note or an explanation. Persephone wasn’t sure she wanted to hear the explanation. It was yet another way Hades was cruel to her. He took Juliet’s soul for judgment when Persephone had no one else.
When the loneliness was at its worst, all her wounds seemed to ache more.
She started writing letters, but she knew that her letters couldn’t go to just anyone. Hades had a long list of people she wasn’t permitted to write. It wasn’t that he sat her down and spelled it out for her. There was no need to do any of that. He wouldn’t kick up a fuss if she wrote to any of the gods on Olympus, except Apollo. Hades was letting his interference with the seeds go since his actions had not impacted anything, but that didn’t mean he wanted her writing him. Humans? Persephone knew he did not want her contacting them. She could catch up with them in the judgment room after they died.
Persephone picked up a scroll and pulled a pot of ink toward her. She would write Raidne. Her wrist felt better, so she penned three swift paragraphs informing her of the situation, how she was trapped in the Underworld with Cerberus keeping her captive while Hades was gone. When she was finished, she rolled up the paper and sealed it with a white wax seal. Then she took the quill she used to write the letter and tore it down the middle, making what looked like two enormous white eyelashes. Then using a simple spell, she attached them to the scroll and made the broken feather act as two wings to carry the paper to its recipient. Persephone regarded the flying paper wistfully. It had actually been Hades who taught her how to do that.
She spent the following hours judging souls in the throne room. There wasn’t much else to do. Judging souls was almost like watching TV. Everyone came and presented their case. Everyone had their own story.
Persephone was very surprised when she got a letter from Raidne within hours of having sent hers. She had not expected a reply for days, or even weeks.
Persephone stopped the judgment to read the letter. It said:
Dearest Goddess of the Underworld (the honorifics went on for three more lines, but Persephone skipped them),
My sister and I are extraordinarily sympathetic to your situation. As your faithful servants, we very much want to assist you, but as you are well aware, we are capable of very little. I’m afraid the task of loosening your bonds has been left squarely in your hands. Please forgive me for my upcoming suggestion, but my sister and I can devise no other strategy at this juncture that doesn’t cause unspeakable harm to come upon Sethos. We fear sending him to the Underworld again would result in eternal violence in Tartarus. Thus, we have only one idea remaining. You have the keys to freeing yourself now if you are willing to pay the price. You finally know where your seeds are. If Cerberus can cut you, then why not let him cut you? What’s the difference between Sethos’ fangs and his?
Persephone did not read the rest. She wondered how long the sirens had known the solution and not had the opportunity to present it to her? The paper fell to the floor.
“Nothing,” she answered. “Nothing!” she exclaimed. “The dog would just have to bite me in the right place.”
Persephone stood up and left the throne without even finishing the judgment of the soul she had put on hold. Without hesitating, without thinking about her wounded body, she took to her feet and headed straight toward the door that led into the upper chamber.
She opened the door and found Cerberus guarding the way. Though he was not asleep, he was lying down, but raised himself on his paws when she opened the door.
Cerberus had black fur with red stripes. His faces were flat. His body was like a tiger’s, except larger. If he had had only one head, it would have been so large that Persephone would have been able to stick her whole head inside its mouth. As it was, each of the heads was slightly smaller than a lion’s. Cerberus did not have the power to speak. Communicating with him was easy though. He might have had three heads, but it seemed to Persephone that they all generally thought the same way. Right then, all of them looked at her with the same expression in their reddish-brown eyes. She never thought of it before, but that was why she thought Seth was like an animal when they first met. It was because Seth had the exact same eye color as Cerberus—full of sympathy and sorrow. The six eyes seemed to say, “Don’t do this. Go back. Please.”
Persephone eyed him carefully. She wanted to measure his jaws to see if Cerberus could do Seth’s job before she lost consciousness. After a minute of looking, she was satisfied. The only problem was that baiting him into doing it would be almost impossible—unless she hurt him.
Lifting the latch, she stepped back through the door.
Another day.
***
This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.
Blowing bubbles in the tree, Persephone was alone until Hades joined her. He had just returned to the Underworld. Persephone didn’t know where he had been. In all the time she’d lived with him, he did not usually take vacations, or business trips, or make friendly calls on other gods. He lived in the Underworld almost exclusively. She was curious, but at the same time, she didn’t want to act like where he went mattered to her one little bit. She didn’t even ask him what he did with Juliet’s bottle. It was just that she wondered if his trips were a key to unfolding his new weakness. What required his attention outside of the Underworld?
Persephone had already made all her plans. She was determined, and for her, there was no turning back. The first phase of her plan involved her sitting in the tree when Hades came home from one of his trips. Her plan would work much better if he was there to see it.
Now it happened as he strolled in the tree room. From what he was wearing, she couldn’t tell if he’d just come from Olympus or from Earth. He wore a black silk shirt that had a V-neckline created by the fabric being folded and tied at his waist. His pants were ordinary black. Maybe they were made of silk, too. His hair was in its usual braid and a few loose strands fell across his cheek.
It was amazing how attractive he could look and how much his obvious beauty made her hate him all the more. If he had been ugly maybe she could have scrounged up a morsel of pity for him, but how could she pity someone so elegant? He could have anyone he wanted. Why did he need to maintain his twisted infatuation with her?
She dipped her wand and blew another soapy round of bubbles.
“You’re so morbid,” he said jokingly as he came toward her.
“What else can I do, my love?” she mocked. “No dusty books. No shiny technology. I used to love my laptop so much. It was a wonderful tool for creation.”
“Exactly. You don’t need to create anything down here.” He popped one of her bubbles with the middle knuckle of his right hand.
She snarled, “Is soap outlawed now? Is my need to create things totally unnecessary here?”
“It is. We have everything we need.”
She shrugged her shoulders. “Maybe you’re right. We have everything we need. I’m so glad you’re finally seeing my perspective on the whole children issue. I thought you were never going to see it my way.”
Hades stepped forward. “That’s different.”
“Are you sure?” she asked saucily, blowing another round of bubbles. “I would have thought you would have known better than to have offspring after what happened between you, your brothers, and your father. Children eventually overthrow their parents. This way, you and I can be Lord and Lady of the Underworld forever. Isn’t that what you want?”
Hades drew his eyebrows together and regarded her seriously. “I doubt any child of ours would want the task of judging the dead.”
“It’s such hard work, isn’t it?” she said, setting her bubble mixture in a fork in the tree branches.
Persephone had previously selected which branch of the tree she wanted. She grabbed it and swung from it. It was a thin branch and not nearly strong enough to hold her weight. It cracked at the base and Persephone fell two meters into the shallow water. She landed on her feet and held the branch in her hands.
Hades gave her a dirty look. “Why did you break it? That tree isn’t going to grow anymore branches. It was brought here when it was still alive and I have extended its life. Now it’s scarred.”
“Like me,” she said evenly.
“Why did you break it?” he repeated. “Was it just for your own amusement?”
“Did you ask this living tree if it was willing to come down to the Underworld? Did you ask it if it wanted to stop growing?”
Hades turned away in disgust and then he turned right back again and huffed, “Is this more of the same fight? I should have asked for your permission to bring you down here. I shouldn’t ask you to play both sides of the circle of life. I’m taking care of all that. This is where the story ends, with you with me. Don’t you understand? I’m not letting you go back. I don’t care about my past crimes. I’ll go on with or without your permission. I’ll go on even if everyone condemns me.”
Persephone turned away from him like she hadn’t heard anything he said. She touched the trunk of the tree and looked up at the translucent ceiling through the branches. “I sympathize with this tree a great deal. Neither of us is free to be what is in our nature.”
“I am unmoved,” he said.
She looked at him again and her green eyes flashed. “You think you are more powerful than me. You think that stopping something in its most perfect state is love. I don’t know if you ever learned to understand the splendor of life, of growth, of change. When I went over your comments when you were playing Rylan, you said that you didn’t want to miss Taylor’s life, and yet here you are. She’s not dead. Her life is still going on and you are missing it.”
Hades growled. He did not like hearing this.
Yet, Persephone went on. “You say I am stripped of my powers as Goddess of Fertility. Fine. Even if my only title is Goddess of the Underworld, I will show you my passion for life.”
Hades blinked. Then he shook his head slightly and asked, “What could you do?”
“I’ll show you,” she said, walking past him into the bedroom for whores.
She wasn’t sure if he followed her or not. Whether he watched the whole show or not, the result would be the same.
She stomped all the way up to the room where Cerberus guarded the door. He went into sentinel position when she entered, as he had before. The branch in her hand was more like a switch than a branch. It was long (giving her range) and bendable (giving her the ability to work it like a whip). She was good with a whip.
“Cerberus,” she said, knowing he would understand every word she said. “I want you to bite me. I want you to bite the back of my neck right here,” she instructed, pointing. “I want you to bite me to the point that you almost sever my spinal cord. Do you understand?”
He whimpered. Hades wasn’t there yet, so he didn’t have to show thoughtless obedience to his master yet.
“If you don’t, I will head for the door and get away. What will happen to you then?”
Each of Cerberus’ heads looked miserable in its own fashion, but this was Persephone’s last chance. It would be brutal beyond description, but there were two things she could gain from it. If Cerberus was successful, she would only have one more seed to remove. What if she did get past the dog? What if she got the seed out? After this act of defiance, she hoped Hades would be bound to the Underworld and be forced to play her prison warden. It was only right to make things fair. He shouldn’t be able to leave when she could not.
Cerberus was pawing the ground indecisively. He wasn’t going to open wide and bite her, even if her neck was exposed so conveniently, even if she asked him.
Persephone took two steps toward the door.
Cerberus put a foot out to stop her.
“Get out of the way!” she shouted.
He wouldn’t and he wouldn’t bite her either.
She knew this was how it was going to be. If she didn’t bring a weapon he would simply block the door and no matter how she moved, she had no hope of outmaneuvering him.
She whipped him across his middle face. “Out of the way!”
With his head down, he recovered from the shock. His eyes were angry when he brought his head up.
She took another step.
He leaped in front of her and she whipped him across his three heads at once. He growled.
Hades appeared and stood by the door. Leaning against the wall, he commented, “This is ridiculous. Even if you work at this for a hundred years, he’ll never let you through.”
She ignored him and lashed Cerberus across his middle face again. All three heads felt the pain and they all started growling.
Persephone was getting excited. The dog was reacting the way she wanted.
From that point on in their fight, Persephone did not get one step closer to the door at the end of the hall. Hades was watching and Cerberus had to treat her the way his master had requested.
He made swipes at her while she scored nicks off him at every turn. With her switch, he was hard to miss, and with such a light weapon, it was hard for him to disarm her. He was starting to get drained as she evaded minor wounds. She offered him her throat at every turn. As she damaged one of his six eyes, she knew the end was coming soon. He would be too enraged with her to maintain his loyalty.
Then two things happened at the same time. Cerberus’ left head reached its limit and another person entered the room. Persephone turned to see who it was and Cerberus took advantage of her distraction and bit into her. Persephone saw blonde hair before she was lifted by her neck and shook away from the scene.
Persephone felt all of it in such an analytical way it was almost as if someone else experienced it. Teeth—six times as large as Seth’s incisors—buried themselves in her neck. The back teeth were the closest to the seed. Through the pain, she pushed her hand against the floor and forced herself to move so the flesh would tear.
Then his jaws went limp and she fell in a heap on the floor.
Hades was shouting something, but Persephone couldn’t understand it. She disassociated herself from the horrible trauma that her body just suffered and with one twitching hand she compelled her fingers to search the wound for the seed. She was convulsing and spitting blood, but she had to find it. Finally, she found the exact spot Apollo had pointed out. It had to be there, but it wasn’t.
Had she made this incredible sacrifice for nothing? Had Apollo been wrong?
Cerberus ambled over and the same head that bit her licked her face. “Thank you for trying,” she mouthed when something caught her eye. Stuck in the gums of Cerberus’ top teeth was a long seed.
That was it.
Persephone reached up and pulled it loose. “Good boy,” she mouthed. Clutching the seed, she allowed herself to fall unconscious right there and then. It didn’t matter what Hades was yelling or who was standing beside him. She was in ecstasy. One more seed was free.
***
Voices. There were voices in her head. There were voices just outside the door, voices beside her bed, voices down the hall, and in the room next door. What were they saying? She couldn’t hear their words. She couldn’t feel their intent. Were they angry? Were they laughing? They seemed neither joyous nor contemptuous.
Love. There was love. It was sinking through the walls and vibrating in the air—desperate love. Refusal and more love, like rose petals falling from the sky or feathers hanging in the air. Was she dreaming?
But whatever it was and whatever it meant, it had nothing to do with her. She couldn’t untangle it. She was too tired to listen to what the voices said. She was too tired to feel gratified by her victory. This time there was only pain.
She drifted in and out of sleep as the throbbing sensation in her injuries came and went like the drifting tide. The extensive nerve damage in her neck was probably the only thing saving her from unendurable agony.
When her fingers found her throat, she could feel how her body was sewing itself back together. The gift of immortality was incredible. Too weak to move she could only lie there and let the tears stream.
She thought there was nothing more Hades would do to hurt her. She thought she had broken all those barriers. Who was she kidding? He was an expert. She knew it because she lay on a bed and the only bed she had ever occupied in the Underworld was the one for whores, yet he had a woman in the room next door. In the room for wives—he had brought a woman. She could hear them talking and then she couldn’t hear anything.