Seph and the Stranger (Queen of Hades Book 1) Page 3

  “I have not been there, Lord Hades, only heard from the old ways that such a place exists. Souls have not gone there since your brother defeated the Titans. It is all I can think of that would keep them. Where else could there be for them to hide? But more importantly, who is hiding them?” she replied with a cool calculation. She had been considering this for some time then.

  “I have been looking into the matter. I wasn’t aware of an in between, Lady Styx. Thank you for your wise direction. Do you have any idea who might have stolen these souls away? Or how to find this place?”

  “You are kind, Lord Hades. I do not know who has taken them, only that they aren’t coming when and where they should. Only a god could do this, but no god on Olympus would try to take the souls from the Underworld. They have no love for the dead,” she said, consternation at her own lack of explanation clear on her face.

  “Thank you, again, Lady Styx. You have served me well in bringing this to my attention. Could the Fates give further direction?”

  A frustrated smile colored her face. “Hard to say, Lord of the Dead. They keep their own counsel and are decidedly cryptic in any answer they ever choose to give.”

  “Still, a visit to them may be in order,” he said.

  And while above, I might find Seph again…

  He quashed the thought from his mind without mercy. Styx merely nodded at him and took her leave without further comment.

  His head was beginning to ache. Without another word to anyone in the room, he left his court and found his way back to his own chambers. Not that he really slept. He could of course, but it always seemed so wasteful. His situation weighed heavily on his shoulders though and stretching out in the quiet of his room was most appealing.

  If someone was hiding the souls of the dead away, and more importantly the more powerful ones, a coup could be in the works. However, none of the gods were particularly interested in a direct confrontation with his brothers.

  Despite the disparity of power among them all, Zeus in fact being quite weak in comparison to others. Namely himself. Zeus’s prowess as the liberator of the gods from the rule of the Titans made him fairly untouchable. A legacy was a powerful thing, and it stopped many of the “lesser” gods from trying to exert any real power. So, many of them didn’t even know how powerful they could be.

  Who would dare? Who would be so unafraid of the Great Zeus, King of the gods, that they would try to amass power enough to do it?

  Although he was feared and loved, Zeus had earned the ire of plenty of the gods, the lesser especially. Even so, he hadn’t offended anyone recently that Hades knew of. It would have to be an old grudge, and those were plentiful.

  Should he present this problem to his brother? Likely, but to what end? Zeus wouldn’t take it seriously, thinking himself untouchable on his mountain. Not to mention he would be irritated at Hades making an appearance, marring his view from on High with his gloom, and “presence of decay”. Rather than deal with his brother being snide, he could simply deal with it himself.

  How strange that the god among them who was considered the least of them all was, in fact, the only one willing to care for the balance of life and death that perpetuated their worship? That he would be the one most invested in their safety, and continuation. The gods often forgot that they were not the first divinity to exist. Other gods had been overthrown before them in order to make way for them. It could happen again.

  Hades had little interest in ruling the gods, but he had a great deal of interest in the wellbeing of the earth and the continuation of life and death. He had no need of wealth because he had an infinite supply. He had no need of more power because his power was incessantly increasing already. However, if he were to keep that it would need to continue to exist. And men gave the gods purpose they didn’t even know they needed.

  Hades, Lord of Death, Protector of Life. The irony was not lost on him.

  With merely a thought he travelled from his world beneath and to the surface above. Or he tried to.

  He had aimed, without even thinking about it, for Persephone’s wild meadow. He needed a glimpse of her. That wasn’t so terrible, was it? Yet, when he tried to arrive there, he was violently pushed out again. The force of it sent the sensation of wasps stinking him all over his body.

  He could taste the power that had thrown him off. The enchantments and wards were strong ones indeed. Certainly, no human could survive being evicted that way, and most of the gods would suffer a great deal of pain trying to cross. Much like he just had.

  But he knew the flavor of this magic. This was his sister’s work. Demeter. He hadn’t even known this was her land. She had been so secluded she had practically disappeared. She hadn’t been seen on Olympus for years, and there was a rumor that something had happened with one of his brothers. Since that time, she had been hostile toward men, wouldn’t even allow them to come to her temples to pay her tribute.

  Why would she have set up such powerful wards? What was she hiding? Unless… and it could only be… Persephone.

  No...

  Persephone must be her daughter. The daughter of a goddess convinced men were monsters, and likely determined that her child should never meet one. Yet, she had met him. The protections were so faint he hadn’t noticed them before. She hadn’t been hiding her daughter from the gods in that way, she simply hadn’t mentioned she had a daughter at all. The other wards were only to keep mortal men off her land. She had assumed, rather correctly, that if she left the gods of Olympus to themselves that they would ignore her in equal measure.

  Somehow, she had found out that Persephone had met him, and now she was locking him out. He and any other male of any species, apparently. However, she wasn’t as strong as he was. The power that would have laid out Hermes for an hour merely felt like a slap to the face to him.

  Gently, he pressed against the barrier, sparking a touch of his own decaying power into it. Just enough to make a thin doorway that he could squeeze through. Not big enough to alert his darling sister. Not strong enough to be noticeable once he closed it again.

  Whatever Demeter thought of men, he could not stay away from Seph, not for long. He was drawn to her like a moth to a flame, and he would gladly burn up for her. He would not allow her delicate wings to be broken by an overbearing mother.

  Carefully, cloaking himself in shadow, he stepped through the wards and waded through the high grasses to find Persephone.

  Chapter Five

  Persephone was by the brook again. She had escaped her mother’s watchful eyes for a few moments. Things had changed.

  Since her confession about the Stranger, her mother had not let her out of her sight. She was always followed and made to stay close to their cottage. Her mother had increased her lessons exponentially, trying to distract her from the Stranger that had captivated her mind and heart.

  It had taken some convincing today, but Demeter let her go out to her favorite spot under the condition she not stray from there. The lack of the intruder’s presence, and her wards being fully intact had given her mother a sense of begrudging calm.

  Seph sighed, discontented. She missed what her life had been before. Before him. She was happy, joyful, full of life. Now, she felt bereft. The longer he was away, the more lost she felt. She didn’t hardly know him, and yet she felt she knew him completely, because he was the other half of herself.

  A breeze caught at her hair as she watched the water dance over the rocks. Then she heard a whisper that was so light she almost thought she had imagined it, but she knew that voice. It had invaded her dreams every night since she last laid eyes on its owner.

  “Seph,” he said, tugging on a curl of her hair, his breath caressing the shell of her ear. She didn’t turn. She didn’t want to discover she had imagined it. She was equally afraid to discover that he really was there beside her.

  She felt she might break like glass, but she couldn’t stop the soft smile on her lips.

  “Where have you been?” she asked
, still not turning her face to him.

  “Tending to my kingdom. Trying not to think of you. Failing at both,” he said, a slight smile in his voice. “Your mother is Demeter.”

  It was a statement, not a question. She nodded once anyway.

  “She fears men and knows that you’ve seen me.”

  She nodded again, a knot forming in her throat.

  “I’ll come to you again,” he whispered. “She can’t keep me out. I can’t stay long, but I promise I will come back.” He tucked something behind her ear, and she felt his nose press into her hair, inhaling deeply. A shiver ran through her at the intimacy of it.

  Then he was gone. There was no sign of his leaving, it was just something she felt. She could feel his absence and it was consuming.

  She reached up to her ear and plucked away a velvety, midnight blue rose in full bloom. It was stunning. She had never seen anything like it. The petals looked like they were dusted with twinkling starlight. She pressed it to her nose and found that it didn’t smell like a rose at all. It smelled like him - deep, dark earth, and cool mist.

  She would have to hide it. If her mother discovered it, well, she didn’t know what would happen, but it would be bad.

  Chapter Six

  Hades was on his way to visit the Fates with Seph still heavily on his mind. She was possibly more lovely today than he had ever seen her, and she hadn’t even looked him in the eye. He thought he understood why. He didn’t think he could bear looking into her eyes either right now. The shock of her identity was still thrumming through him, and he wasn’t sure what exactly he was going to do yet. He knew he would do something.

  Could he convince Demeter to let him in? Was there anything he could offer her to entice her into allowing a courtship?

  A courtship? Is that what I’m after? Love?

  The god of death wasn’t supposed to be affected by something as trivial as love, and yet here he was. He wanted a courtship, a completely foreign idea to him, but it was the thing that settled his mind. He wanted to know this woman. He wanted to listen to her every thought, bear witness to her every creation. He wanted to wonder at her power and her beauty. He wanted to give her the world, and he didn’t even know her.

  As he approached the mountain, he would have to climb to reach the Fates- an annoying trial they insisted their visitors take or they wouldn’t deign to see them- he was greeted by a creature he always rather hoped to avoid.

  “My Lord Hades,” said the coarse, manic voice of the woman before him. She was rail thin, her blue tinged skintight against her bones. Her hair was long, lank, and dirty, the blackest of blacks. Her eyes were frightening, even to him, small irises, and pupils in too-large white orbs. A rictus grin continually split her face. She was the picture of madness and death itself.

  “Lyssa,” he responded with some contempt. She was not one of the lesser goddesses he preferred to deal with, and yet she was of his realm.

  “What brings you to the Fates, your majesty,” she said with all the disdain she could muster. There was clearly no love lost between them. She had good reason for it. She was also a powerful being, and she could never seem understand why she was called “lesser”.

  He grimaced at her. The thing was, she might be able to help him. She sent enough souls to his kingdom anyway and was often among the dead when she grew bored of torturing mortals.

  “Some of the dead are missing,” he said frankly, giving her his full attention. She seemed surprised to have his direct attention. He supposed she rarely had that courtesy.

  “Are they? That is strange indeed. How could they have escaped your grasp, O King?” she hissed.

  “Do you know anything about it? Have you seen anyone unusual in our realm? Or any spirits lingering above that should not be?” he asked.

  “Our realm? How generous of you,” she sneered at him. “I only ever thought it was your realm, and I was only ever tolerated there.”

  “You have a home there as much as I,” he said with some annoyance. He didn’t want to play a game of placation with her. Why couldn’t she just answer the question?

  She let a pause grow uncomfortably between them as she sucked her teeth, mulling over whether she would answer. He turned to leave.

  “I have not seen any spirits on this plane that shouldn’t be here,” she said at last, and he turned back to her. “I have heard of a deity trying to break souls out of the Underworld to stage a coup in order to take your power, my Lord.”

  “And you didn’t think it prudent to tell me about this rumor?” he demanded, fire lighting in his eyes. No one would take his power. No. One.

  A rasping chuckle left her emaciated throat. “What care I for your rule? You have never bothered with me. I have no reason to safeguard you and your kingdom.”

  He sighed heavily. He couldn’t argue much with that.

  “You’re right. You’ve been long overlooked, my lady,” he conceded. “Come visit with me soon. Perhaps we can find a better position for you, a place where you might be appreciated.”

  She bowed her head ever so slightly, then turned and wandered away with twitchy steps, muttering under her breath.

  I may have just made a bigger problem for myself.

  For now, he had other concerns. His climb up the mountain was every bit as arduous as the Fates wanted it to be. More than once he slipped or stumbled, but the crones had their reasons. They didn’t put up with time wasters, and if you were willing to go through the trial of climbing, then you were serious about getting answers. It also gave them time to look ahead for the answer being sought, as they always knew who was on their sacred mountain.

  Sometime later he reached the top, brushing the dirt and gravel off his clothes. He didn’t bother to announce himself, they knew he was here.

  The loom clacked in their cavern as they wove threads into it and cut others off when their part in the design was done. Another soul in his kingdom or, at least, it should be.

  He stood and watched them work for a moment, studying their never ending tapestry. He could see where the most important moments in history occurred; places of obvious chaos followed by lengths of harmony. What he saw being woven now caught his attention. As the red haired one snipped a thread, it vanished from the tapestry altogether, as though it had not existed at all. As his gaze lingered, he could see where several threads had disappeared, a strange gap hanging in their places.

  The three heads of the Fates twisted to look at one another with consternation, and… confusion?

  “Hades, Lord of the Underworld, this is what you came for, no?” Asked the center figure as the full body laboriously turned to face him.

  His face was drawn and set into hard lines. Already, this was not the news he had hoped for.

  “It is,” he replied.

  “We are blind to this strange change in the weaving. Whoever has caused this has found a means of avoiding our sight. This cannot be allowed, Dark Lord. We are the minders of Fate, and it is our purpose to keep it steady on its course. Interference with our work is the highest kind of crime.”

  “I agree, sisters. I met Lyssa outside the mountain. She says there is a rumor that one of the gods is going to stage a coup on the Underworld in an attempt to oust me from power. I was hoping you could give me direction,” he said.

  The body turned slightly so the black-haired Fate could better face him.

  “I have foreseen turmoil in the Underworld, though the details are hidden from me. There is something dangerous in your future. I also see destruction for the realm of man, a future which may yet be avoided— or prolonged if the wrong path is taken. You, Hades, are central to both Fates,” she said solemnly.

  His relationship with the sisters was a strange one. They were respected and revered by all, but also greatly feared and avoided. Hades had developed a bond with them, though. He would visit them often and bring them treasures from deep in the earth that he had mined himself. He did not always come to beg their advice as though they were only g
ood for that purpose. He treated them as more than a foreign thing. He treated them much like family, though to say they loved one another would be stretching things.

  Coming closer to the sisters he took the single hand of the raven-haired woman and pressed a kiss to her palm. He did the same for the others, and then gifted them rare gems he had gathered himself.

  “Thank you, sisters. I will do everything I can to right this situation. If you see something that will help, send a raven to me and I will come. Let us work together in this.”

  The center figure bowed her head in agreement, then they turned back to their work on the loom, worry etched on each of their faces.

  Chapter Seven

  After leaving Seph behind in her meadow with his heart practically beating out of his chest, he took a moment beneath an olive tree to collect himself. This next part would require his full attention and careful concentration. Perhaps it would have been wiser to see Seph after this meeting. Yet, he couldn’t have stayed away.

  The last three days had passed by with painful slowness. His every thought, no matter how he tried to focus on anything else, was consumed with her. Here he was supposed to be figuring out where the spirits of the dead were disappearing to and who was orchestrating it, and all he could think of was her red gold hair topped with crowns of flowers.

  He had crafted the blue rose just for her. He now had a full garden of them in the deep. He had borrowed starlight from Selene, the goddess of the moon, whom he had persuaded to gather it for him with a gift of radiant diamonds she could affix to her crown which made it glitter brighter than the sun.

  The blooms were colored by the shadows of his power. Having placed those precious pinpoints of starlight above their bed, they also took on the glitter of the night sky which that pure light had come from. He could imagine Seph in a crown of those roses and hoped he might persuade her one day to wear one.