Seph and the Stranger (Queen of Hades Book 1) Page 2

  But she was not just a pretty face. There was something about this girl. She was radiant in ways no being had ever been, human or goddess. She shone brighter than the sun being pulled through the sky by Apollo. It was a wonder night ever cast itself over the land here with her to light up every dark corner.

  She hadn’t seen him since that first time. He kept himself cloaked in invisibility, his presence cut off with all his will power. The problem was, he didn’t want to be invisible. He wanted her to see him. He wanted to feel the full warmth of her gaze on his face. He wanted to touch those red gold waves and curls, feel the softness of her round cheeks. How was it possible for her to be so beautiful?

  She was doing what she usually did. What he had watched her do every day for the last week. Coaxing plants from the soil to bask in the sunlight, weaving floral crowns, singing to trees, skipping through fields.

  His heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest. Every once in a while, she turned and looked around as though she could feel his gaze on her, but after a moment she would return to her simple task of enjoying life, of giving life.

  With a sudden and painful realization, he knew he couldn’t stand to be without her notice anymore. After a single deep breath, he uncloaked his presence, fading into focus from nothingness.

  As though hearing the shadows depart from him, her face snapped around to focus on him. A brilliant smile lifting her freckled cheeks.

  “There you are!” she trilled as she jogged over to him, her hair fanning out behind her.

  Shock froze him in place. He couldn’t even speak as she stopped just a foot in front of him. Her beautiful hazel eyes raking over his face with curiosity and interest. She had no shame as she drank him in.

  “I wondered when you would finally let me see you,” she smirks. “It’s been a full week. Why have you been so shy?” Mischief was dancing in those deep, bright eyes.

  He opened his mouth, and closed it again, too surprised to find the words.

  “I…” he stumbled over himself. What is wrong with me? “I didn’t want to scare you,” he managed at last.

  She giggled. She was laughing at him. His eyebrows knit together as he studied her. No one had ever laughed at him.

  “Well, you’re terrible at it. Slinking around invisible? Most people find that kind of thing pretty frightening. You know it’s rude to stalk people, right?” she responded with a quirked eyebrow.

  Again, he was taken aback. What is WRONG with me? he screamed in his head. He realized she was laughing at him again.

  “It’s okay. I’m only teasing you. Who are you, by the way?” she asked, the smile never leaving her perfect lips.

  After a moment he realized he’d been staring at her mouth. A strange heat spread over his face, and he made the connection: he was blushing. Never in his entire ancient existence had he ever blushed.

  “Just a stranger,” he choked out.

  She grinned at him slyly.

  “Alright Stranger, come sit with me for a while and stop lurking,” she said as she looped an arm through his and pulled him out into the meadow to sit on a blanket she had laid out.

  On the blanket were various fruits and vegetables, some fresh bread and blush colored wine.

  “Have something to eat, Mr. Stranger.” She released him, plopping gracefully down on the blanket.

  Wide eyed, Hades stared at her as he hesitantly sat beside her. This was the strangest thing he had ever done. That was saying something for the Lord of the Underworld, who happened to have a three headed dog. He’d seen strange things before, but this was something else.

  She handed him a cluster of grapes and started chattering about nothing in particular. That was good because he was too in shock to do anything but make the occasional grunt in response. But she didn’t seem to notice, allowing him to gawp at her.

  Her voice was like music. The cadence of her speech was a melody that worked its way into his soul. He knew he could sit here and listen to her forever. Literally, forever. He would never get enough of her voice.

  “What is your name?” he interrupted her without warning.

  She stopped and looked at him surprised.

  “A full sentence? Wow,” she winked. “Persephone.”

  He smirked back at her.

  “That’s a mouthful. How about Seph?” he asked, surprised by his own boldness.

  She canted her head thoughtfully for a moment considering. “I think I like it,” she smiled.

  It’s then he noticed that as she had been talking, she had also been weaving together another crown of grass and flowers. This one was distinctly masculine despite its floral qualities. It had tall stiff blades of grass reaching up from the band. Without ceremony she got to her knees in front of him and fit it down around his head.

  “You need a little color in your wardrobe,” she said sitting back on her feet in front of him, smiling brightly. “Do you like it?” There was no anxiety in her voice, as though it hadn’t occurred to her that he could possibly not like it.

  He felt his lips curve upward. “I do,” he said, reaching a hand forward and capturing a silky lock of fine burnished gold hair between his fingers.

  “Who are you, Seph?” he asked in wonder. “Why aren’t you afraid?”

  She leaned her head down pressing a cheek into his palm. “I don’t know. I feel… like I know you, somehow. Since I first saw your eyes in the shadows, I felt… something. I don’t know what.”

  Her face was warm against his hand, and he ran his thumb softly over the curve of her cheek. He could drown in her gaze.

  “Who are you, Stranger?” she asked, quietly studying his features.

  “I’m afraid to tell you,” he admitted in a whisper.

  She closed her eyes. Wrapping her long slender fingers around his wrist, she took a deep breath against his skin. “You smell like mist, and cold, and dark caverns,” she said. Then decidedly, “I can wait for you to be ready to tell me.”

  Hades’ heart beat hard and fast in his chest. He didn’t understand, and that terrified him. How could this girl have a hold on him?

  With a start, he withdrew his hand and stood up.

  “I have to go”, he said with a terrified sort of urgency, and vanished.

  ***

  Persephone gazed wonderingly at the place where her Stranger had been standing only a moment ago. She knew he was gone and not just invisible. She could feel the absence of his presence like a gaping hole in her world.

  “Why does he keep doing that?” she asked aloud.

  A nearby tree rustled its willowy branches as if to say, “I have no idea,” and she shrugged along with it.

  Suddenly forlorn, feeling a bit of her own brightness dim, she stood to her feet and gathered up her picnic, heading back toward her modest little home.

  As she approached, she saw her mother weeding out the bed of flowers by the front door. Her mother was always happiest when she was at work, and even happier when Persephone was by her side working, too. She used to think she was happiest when working alongside her mother, but now, with this strange ache in the absence of a Stranger, she wasn’t so sure.

  Demeter straightened from her task, wiping a soil smudged wrist over her glistening brow and smiled at her daughter.

  “You’re back sooner than I expected, my Flower,” she called as Persephone approached. “Is everything alright, daughter?”

  Persephone realized she hadn’t smiled since she left her little clearing and quickly pasted one on to appease her mother. “Oh, yes! Just a little tired is all.”

  Demeter didn’t question her, she trusted her daughter implicitly. There were no secrets between them, and so there was no reason to doubt. She embraced her Persephone warmly and ushered her inside to rest.

  As they entered the house, Persephone looked back over her shoulder toward her little patch of heaven. For just a moment she could swear she saw deep lonely eyes watching her from a shadow in the garden.

  Chapter Three r />
  Something wasn’t right with her daughter. Something she couldn’t determine. It was nothing outright or overt, just a quiet wrongness. Her shine seemed less bright, her smiles less frequent, her laughter more forced.

  Demeter looked about their little cottage and all the beautiful wreaths of flowers Persephone had woven for them. Each one was perfectly preserved, and in constant bloom. She could never bear to part with her daughter’s creations. As she observed them she also noticed that a new one hadn’t graced her home in a week.

  Weaving crowns was Persephone’s favorite thing. She’d taken it up with lightning speed as a child, and made a new one everyday, if not several. It helped her practice her control over her power, the magic that connected her to all things living. She could coax the foliage to grow at her will, so she was never without materials with which to create.

  My beautiful daughter. My most prized possession.

  Despite how Persephone had come to her, she loved her all the more and would suffer no man to come near her. The prophecy of the Fates still haunted her, but she did her best to ignore the old crones. Persephone was too beautiful and too precious for such a fate.

  She did her best to interest Persephone in learning new magic, and how to give even more life to the world. The girl took to it well enough, but still, there was something of her usual joy that was missing.

  After delivering a lamb into the world, and watching it connect with its mother on wobbling legs, she ran a hand over Persephone’s thick, curly hair. “My daughter, what troubles you? You have been distant these last weeks.”

  Persephone looked back at her with a shocked expression. She clearly didn’t think Demeter had noticed. “Oh, it’s nothing, Mother. Nothing at all. I’m just restless.”

  “Restless? This is more than restlessness, my darling. Something troubles you,” she replied.

  Persephone withdrew a bit then, seeming to be thinking and fighting within herself over what to say. How she might try to tell Demeter something she would not like to hear, perhaps?

  “Will you promise not to be angry with me?” she asked.

  Demeter’s brows furrowed. This was not the reaction she had expected. “Surely it’s not as bad as all that? Have I ever been angry with you, daughter? What could possibly make you think such a thing?”

  Biting her lip, she replied, “I have a secret. Perhaps I should have told you, but… I just couldn’t.”

  Demeter waited as patiently as she could, knowing she had to be as open as possible or the trust between them might break. She couldn’t bear such a separation from her girl. She rubbed Persephone’s back soothingly, even as her own heart raced with anxiety.

  “There was a man,” she began.

  Demeter’s hand stilled on her back with shock.

  “A man? Here?” There were no men here. They were not permitted. This part of the land was cut off from them, and only women would venture to make offerings or petitions. After how Persephone had been conceived, men were practically outlawed on her land. She refrained from outright killing them all. They were necessary in their way, but never to be trusted. Not ever.

  “Yes. He says he’s just a stranger. He sat with me a while and then disappeared,” she said quietly, longingly.

  “What did he look like? Men don’t just vanish. It must have been one of the gods,” Demeter responded with rising terror. If one of her brother’s had come here to take her daughter… she would destroy the heaven’s with her bare hands before she allowed her daughter to suffer the same fate she had.

  “He was handsome. He was tall, and clothed in shadows. It took a long time before he would greet me. His eyes change colors in strange ways. There was just something about him. He watched me for a long time, and when he finally showed himself, he just… disappeared.”

  The color drained from Demeter’s face as her beloved daughter spoke. “Clothed in shadows?” she repeated breathlessly.

  The prophecy…

  Persephone didn’t seem to hear her mother, nor notice the change in her demeanor.

  “I feel like since he left, I’m missing a part of my own soul. He only just touched my cheek, but it’s like he took a piece of me with him. He hasn’t come back since, and somehow I miss him even though I don’t know him.”

  Demeter stiffened more with every word until her body was cold and hard as ice. “You must never see him again, daughter. Do you understand? Never.”

  Persephone looked at her in surprise and confusion. “What do you mean? I have no idea if I ever would see him again anyway, but why should it matter?”

  “If you see him again, he’ll take you from me. He’ll destroy you and put you in darkness. Promise me, beloved, you will tell me if he ever returns,” her voice was stone cold and firm.

  A little more of the light dimmed from Persephone as she nodded her assent, confusion, and… despair lining her features.

  “I will refresh our wards. Perhaps I can keep him out. It would be much better if you remain as hidden from him as possible. Stay close to the cottage where I can see you. Don’t worry, my love, I will protect you. Always,” she kissed her daughter’s hair and began the long trek around their land reinforcing their protections.

  Before, a human man could enter, although he wouldn’t like it. But now, if he tried, he would die just putting a toe over the line of her land. She couldn’t keep the likes of her brothers out completely, but nonetheless, she erected illusions and deterrents that might even fool the gods. Perhaps, if she were very, very careful, he would not be back.

  Chapter Four

  In the days and weeks that followed his disappearance from Seph’s meadow, Hades had done everything in his impressive power to engross himself in anything other than thinking of her. Yet, her eyes haunted his every moment, peering at him with interest, and a depth for creativity that seemed limitless. She was light and life in the darkness of his mind, and she wasn’t even here.

  Still, he was the god of the Underworld, and he had other responsibilities. So, he saw to them, being sure the soil of the earth was able to yield fruit, the guilty were given their just deserts by the Furies, Charon allowed only the dead to cross the river into his realm, and Cerberus was well fed… perhaps, a few head scratches were given.

  Now, he sat on his ebony throne, scepter in hand, as witness to the dead being judged. It was, of course, a never ending pursuit. The great thing about his job was he would never run out of things to do. The only thing men were better at than living was dying.

  When his brothers condemned him “through fate” to rule the Underworld, they thought they were getting rid of him, their most powerful counterpart, and leaving him to rot in the dark. They weren’t entirely wrong. He was stuck in the dark, and the gloom of the place took its toll on him. However, with every soul that died, his power only increased. It was a thing which he rarely flaunted. His brothers didn’t appreciate being reminded that if he wanted to, he could easily overthrow all of Olympus. Therefore, he only did so when absolutely necessary.

  What was frustrating was the lack of respect he received from anyone at all. Men would only come to him to beg for their lives, knowing full well that they would end up in his realm eventually anyway. He had very little patience for the same tired pleas. That was why he was not the judge of the dead. If he were the judge, he would likely condemn them all to the worst parts of this Hell just to prove his power. Still, he oversaw the process, it was only right, and the dead deserved this respect from him even if they gave him truly little in return.

  Then there were the gods. They simply looked down on him because they were, in literal fact, so high up on their mountain. They didn’t care for the deep and the dark, or the dead. What use to living gods are dead human beings? Once dead they had no further worship to give them and, therefore, nothing of value. They thought him cold and heartless. They thought him weak for not seeking worship or more power. Little did they know he didn’t need to seek it. It was constantly funneling to him without any effo
rt on his part.

  He thought himself heartless, too. Until Seph. That cursed woman would not leave him be. No matter how much he focused on his ruling, or raged against his family, or mined the earth for its many treasures. She was always there. She had awakened him when he had been so blissfully ignorant of even being asleep for the last many eons of his existence.

  A small but strong voice broke through his irritation, and he looked up. An apparently young woman stood before him, a simple white shift clung to her form, her black hair flowing down her back and trailing several feet behind her. Her deep blue eyes were so dark they could be called black, but he knew better.

  “My Lord Hades,” she intoned reverently.

  “My Lady Styx,” he replied with some surprise. She was, in fact, much older than he was. She was a daughter of the primordial gods. One who joined Zeus to defeat them, and thereby had helped to free all the Olympians. She rarely came here to entreat him for anything, and he was inclined to help her regardless of what she wanted, despite her having allied with his idiot little brother.

  “There is something wrong, my Lord,” she said with trepidation. “The dead that should be here are not coming to the river to cross. There is an imbalance. They are not living, and yet, they are not truly dead either. They are in between.”

  This wasn’t the first he had known of this, of course. It was the primary reason he had gone to the surface when he first saw her. At the time it had only been a few missing. It was hardly noticeable to anyone but him. Then again if Styx had picked up on it the situation was getting worse. Indeed, he could feel the wrongness of the court. It was not only missing souls but missing powerful ones. Ones with the blood of the gods latent in their veins, not quite demigods, but somewhere down their divine bloodlines.

  “What do you mean in between?” he asked. He knew they were gone, but they seemed to him to have disappeared, he had not felt them in between as she had said. There was little he didn’t know about the realm of death, but he was not the first to rule here, either. There were still secrets.