Of Thorns and Bones: Hades and Persephone Duet Read online

  Now it was the Olympians who were locked in their prisons on high, silent and forgotten, a footnote in mortal myth books. I alone of the Olympians emerged as a new god, one of death. After what happened at the Accords with Persephone, I embraced it. Death, after all, was a necessity of life. Traveling between the three realms was also made impossible. Magic was outlawed on Earth. Equilibrium was attained. I never saw my wife again.

  But this newest conflict?

  This guerrilla war had come from nowhere a century ago. It marked exactly the fifteen-hundred year anniversary of the Accords. It felt pointless and also malignant. As if my realm bled great gouts of demons for nothing. Recently, my enemy had grown stronger, and still I wasn’t quite sure who it was I fought.

  Unfortunately, imprisoning the most vile beings from any realm tended to make my enemies rival the number of stars in the universe. It could truly be anyone—or anything—fighting me from the shadows.

  Anger boiled beneath my surface and rattled my bones. I stood abruptly. Nyx and Hecate both joined me, their heads bowed. Guards stationed around the room clanged their swords to their chests. They were ready to follow in my wake, whatever form I may take.

  I rematerialized along the black shore of the River Styx. Out of the five rivers encircling my kingdom, it was by far the most famous. A shame. I quite liked the idea of the River Lethe. I wondered what drowning in it would feel like. Peaceful, I suppose.

  A slight displacement of air shuffled somewhere to my far left. Most wouldn’t have noticed it until it was too late. Before he landed, Scally was already transforming into a beak-nosed man holding something tightly in his fist. A drop of black blood dripped through his fingers.

  “There was an incident, Basileus.”

  Infinite scenarios rolled through my mind. At my look, he clarified, “A dead demon. A manticore.”

  Irritation laced my words, and I strode down the banks as curls of sulfur rose from the black currents. “We’re in a war, Scally. There are dead demons everywhere.”

  “He wasn’t from this realm,” he said.

  I stopped my long strides, and Scally hurried to catch up. “What?” I demanded.

  A hint of nerves entered in his voice. He tended to screech when he was anxious. He was, after all, part screech owl. “The manticore’s body washed up on the shore with these.” Scally opened his hand to reveal two gold teeth on his palm.

  “What are you showing me exactly?” I said in disgust. Manticore slime still clung to the roots.

  “There was a spirit note attached.”

  Surprise welled up at once. It took a lot of power to send this sort of message. Power that shouldn’t be on Earth anymore. No demons in. No demons out. Those were the rules after the Accords. Whichever demons had decided to stay on Earth were there for eternity. The same went for the ones that decided to live in my realm and those on Olympus.

  “Show me.”

  Scally blew on the teeth with an icy breath that dissolved the gold into dust. Out came a voice as thin as gossamer webs. The way Scally tilted his head told me that only I was privy to this message. Why encode it?

  Anger, disillusionment, and even a bit of fear surged upon hearing the message. Her voice kept repeating the words like a drumbeat over and over until Scally broke the spell. It was only three words, but they shook me to my core. I might have let her voice spool over me for eternity. My name on her tongue was sweeter than any ambrosia or nectar we used to grow drunk on.

  I hated her for that.

  “What did the message say?” Scally asked softly.

  Shaking myself, I lied. “Nothing important. Not to us, at least. Go see if Thanatos needs anything for his retreat.”

  Scally looked unconvinced, but did as I ordered. He took flight, soaring silently on owl wings as I was left to try to ignore the words that had already tattooed themselves on my soul. There would be no safe harbor from them tonight. Even my feet pounded to their cadence, soft and feminine, just as I remembered her.

  Help me, Hades.

  Help me, Hades.

  Help me, Hades.

  3

  Persephone

  Just like our marriage, at least the end of it, Hades ignored me. I wanted to scream, but being married to the lord of darkness for millennia would boil anyone’s brains.

  It had been three days since I killed the manticore. One day for every word I sent and nothing in return. Not a team of demonspawn horses to pick me up, a secret portal, or even a wandering ghost shade with a message telling me to piss off. If that was how Hades wanted to play it, I would continue to send dead demons until he was drowning in them. Just as soon as I figured out where to find more impossible magic. I had almost run out as it was.

  Clicking open the safe I held together with a regular padlock and a small spell of death magic—minor, really—I took stock and tried not to grimace. Typically, I moved between the realms with ease, making it easy to gather lost magical items. To my knowledge, I was the only creature who could. It was my second most closely guarded secret. Or third.

  I had a few top contenders.

  But suddenly, about a century ago, that power faded, and I ran into a literal dead end, banging my nose on some invisible wall every time I tried. No longer could I move between the realms. Worse, I was stuck on the Earth side, growing weaker by the day. For a century, I resisted the need to ask for help, but with the last of my magical objects almost gone, I would soon wither. I wouldn’t die on Earth, probably, but I preferred to keep my breasts above my knees, thanks.

  Also, the not-dying thing was only a working theory. The weaker I became, the more of a target I presented to roving magical creatures who chose Earth in the Accords. We all learned well the lesson that gods could die at the hands of demons, even if the simple passage of time didn’t kill us.

  Here I had swallowed all of my damn pride to ask Hades for help, and he hadn’t deigned to answer? Not even a no. Despite traveling between Olympus and Earth during the past fifteen centuries like it was a revolving diner door—those are adorable, by the way—I’d always felt the pull of my old home. Surely, even in my weakened state, I could still get into the Underworld. At least, that was my gamble.

  Into my bag went a small, dented square of matchless material, purloined from Hades' Helm of Invisibility. While it wasn’t as powerful as the real thing, taking it meant Hades couldn’t ever be completely invisible again, and the square provided some cloaking aspects. That, friends, was what they call a win-win.

  Next I stuffed inside my favorite dagger. Its pale pink color matched my immortal aura, and the handle was inlaid with pale, celery-green jewels. I tucked a second dagger of bronze and bone into a holster on my leg and twisted my dark hair into a bun.

  The door to my apartment swung open, but I barely stopped my frantic search for any last remnants of magic. I’d sensed Dawn a mile away, trudging home from her own dead-end job as a bank teller. In immortal years, she was basically a zygote. In mortal years, I think she was in her mid-twenties.

  She paused at the open door, a plastic bag of take-out dangling from her arms as she took in my outfit of leather corsets studded with silver bolts. “Are you headlining a midlife crisis dominatrix convention? Or is this a real midlife crisis? Please don’t say you have a moonlighting gig I don’t know about.”

  “Ha, ha, ha. You really missed your calling as a funny person.”

  “A funny person? You mean a comedian?”

  Despite all my time on earth, sometimes human things escaped me. “They’re the ones who tell jokes, right?”

  Dawn shut the door and laid out the food. “God, you are so weird sometimes. But I’m serious. That look is for a very specific taste.”

  “Noted.” I continued my frenetic pace. I refused to waste any more time waiting around for a man. God of the dead or not.

  “That’s quite the packing style,” Dawn commented through a piece of broccoli beef. She threw her feet on the bean bag chair we used as a semi-hazardous coffee table and took a swig of cheap, pink-flavored wine.

  “Thanks. I’m thinking about trademarking it.”

  Dawn sat up so fast the bean bag protested by coughing out a cloud of Styrofoam balls from a hole at the bottom. “Wait! Are you leaving for good? I can’t afford rent on my own. That was the deal. I let you have the master bedroom and all of the bathroom cabinet space in exchange for ninety percent of the rent.”

  “Yeah, great deal.”

  Dawn stood now, her chest heavy, and I could feel her panic dripping off of her. I threw her a small bag from the back of the safe. “Go buy a nice flat, nothing too flashy. Save your paychecks. And stop taking handouts from Naveed. You don’t need his drama in your life.”

  Dawn mumbled incoherently as jewels poured out of the bag into her palm. She looked up, even more terror in her eyes. “What did you do?” she whispered. “Or what do you do? This is about the moonlighting thing, isn’t it? Jesus, why didn’t I ask more questions on the sublease?”

  As Dawn continued to question her life choices, I eyeballed a vial at the back of the safe. A little something I’d shown Circe how to brew. Luckily for me, I’d hoarded a few magically enhanced objects from various demons and witches over the years. You’d be surprised how many magical folk chose neither Olympus nor the Underworld after the Accords. There were plenty of them here on Earth, and plenty of them that found ways around the no-magic rule in this realm. I had merely run out of time and patience.

  “Shouldn’t we be celebrating?” I asked, keeping my last potion from her view. “I just handed you a bag of priceless jewels to buy your own place. I also imparted the wisdom of middle age on you.”

  “But… I don’t…” she stammered, moving the sparkling precious stones in her hand with her index finger.

  I grabbed a chipped, ceramic mug from the cupboard and poured myself a glass. Then, with a furtive gesture when we clinked, I poured the vial in her glass and threw my own back.

  Dawn’s eyes crossed and she blinked twice. “Wait,” she asked, starting to slur a little. “What’s wrong with Naveed? He’s not bad to look at, and he’s working his way up from bar back to bartender. He could get to be a manager eventually.”

  I put my hands on her shoulders and gripped her tightly for a moment. “The worst ones are never ugly.” Hades' dark lines and darker swagger wavered in front of my vision for a moment, but I quickly shook free of its hold. “Listen, I’ve got more middle-aged advice, since I’m so much more advanced in years.”

  “Oh great. Here we go.”

  “Get yourself happy first.”

  Dawn snorted. “Oh, blah, blah blah. Then boys will notice how happy you are and how you shine on the inside and fall in love at first sight. Give me a break. That only works in the movies.”

  I lifted an eyebrow. “Of course not. They’ll notice how happy you are and want to fuck it up. Come on, Dawn. Psych one-oh-one.”

  She burst out laughing. “God, I’m going to miss you. Where are you going?”

  I nudged her glass. “Drink up! Thatta girl. I’m going home. I have something important I need to do. Didn’t you say you needed to use the restroom?”

  Dawn mechanically set down her empty glass. “Oh right. Yeah. Thanks.”

  By the time she’d come back from whatever it was the magic made her do in the bathroom, I had finished sweeping the apartment of objects and remnants of me. I smiled sadly at her confused expression.

  “Are you leaving?” she asked, tilting her head and blinking slowly.

  “Got to. The gendarmerie are on my case, and they’re about to crack it wide open. Remember what I said? What do snitches get?”

  “Ditches. Snitches get ditches.”

  I pretended to wipe a fake tear. “They grow up so fast.”

  Dawn’s blinks were getting longer. “You can’t leave. What will I do without you?”

  Instead of smiting her as some gods were wont to do, I showed her the last object in my safe. “Here, I want you to have the magical amulet of the deathless, dread Persephone. Sounds fancy, doesn’t it?” My real name sounded odd on my tongue after so long. I quickly wiped it clean, adding, “Only the best for you.”

  Dawn rolled her eyes. “You know I don’t believe in your magic stuff. It doesn’t exist.”

  I waved my fingers and spouted voodoo lines we’d heard on an American television show once. “That’s what you think.”

  It was adorable how humans refused to see the truth. Never change.

  I shoved the amulet in her hands, knowing it would offer her protection. Perhaps even better than I could offer, sucked dry as I was here after too many years and too little access to real, teeth-rending magic. Magic I could only access on Olympus—or the Underworld.

  When the Accords were signed with the human leaders, we gods really got the raw end of the bargain. Stay on Olympus or else. I tossed my hair over my shoulder, remembering how much we gave up. And now, only a few humans were gifted with the truth every few generations. And they were so frightened that gods and demons truly existed that they shut themselves beneath their basilicas and refused to emerge. Believe me, I tried getting their help. There wasn’t much I hadn’t tried over the last one hundred years.

  Except for this.

  Desperate times.

  On the off-chance someone had intercepted the manticore and his message before Hades had seen it, I was going to send one more. And if that didn’t work?

  I shuddered.

  Really desperate times.

  I brushed my lips over Dawn’s crown. “See ya, kid. Don’t go down alleyways at night.”

  “Is that another magical thing or a middle age thing?” she asked, still fighting the effects of my potion. At least she’d sleep well tonight, all traces of me wiped from her memory by morning. It was for the best.

  I shook my head. “Just a smart thing.”

  She was snoring before I reached the door. The only thing left to do was meet the night as one met the day. I shouldered my bag and marched into the chilled and salted Black Sea air.

  4

  Persephone

  Olympus

  Millenia ago.

  Olympus was a lot bigger than I expected. The cotton blue sky opened to infinity, and even the gods felt like simple players on its stage.

  Demeter gripped my hand so tightly, I feared it would break my fingers. She hated that I was here. While I was fond of her, the fact remained that she had lied to me for centuries.

  I was trying to forgive her.

  So far, I was failing.

  “Don’t look anyone in the eyes. Remember to accept no food or drink. Try not to wander too far,” she whispered for my ears only.

  I nodded my assent. At this point, I would say anything to get to Olympus. A place I detested with every fiber of my being, but if I was to plan accordingly, I needed to see it. I needed to understand it.

  I dropped my eyes as we passed a few gods in colorful robes with neon hair and slick skin, but I could feel their gazes linger. I risked a furtive glance and almost stumbled at their predatory look. I kept telling myself it was just my nerves. No immortal looked that hungry. There was too much food and drink.

  A little goddess floated by wearing a bored expression. She offered us her tray of ambrosia squares and drinking cups of nectar. Flakes of gold leaf sparkled at every turn in the brilliant light of Olympus. I desperately wanted something to take the edge off, but Demeter waved her away.

  “Take nothing, Kore,” Demeter repeated, low. As if she hadn’t drilled it into my head for weeks.

  More servants, demigods, and favored mortal lovers, lounged on cushions, drinking, talking mutedly, and strumming their lutes. All of their faces were blank. If Zeus said something, their laugh always sounded a beat too slow. Their smiles were too wide and revealed too many teeth. It made me ill to watch them for long, so I let my gaze slide from one face to the next without lingering.

  Zeus was a fool. He wanted everyone to see his throne room and quiver before the dais. He staged these parties for himself and himself only, as if anyone could relax and have fun. I’d only been here a few minutes and already I had gathered that.

  I felt the gaze of a few male gods and even a few female ones as we strolled. Some were merely curious. Who was that girl with Demeter? Surely not a glamored mortal. Certainly not a god of Olympus. I wondered what they’d give to know the truth.

  Instead of clenching my fists, my first instinct, I kept my eyes straight and my smile faint, as if this were all too much. Too beautiful, too dazzling, too magnificent. When indeed, I felt too exposed, every inch of my skin on display under the gauzy material of my pale pink chiton.

  When I first put it on, it felt as if I were wearing moonlight. Crocus buds had been arranged in a corona around my head and at my ankles. My face was left fresh, scrubbed raw with salt and honey. The nymphs had patted white lead into my skin and snuck me a little crushed mulberry to use on my lips, but I hadn’t painted it on. Demeter watched my every move, and she wanted me bare. In her mind, the plainer I appeared, the less attention I would draw. Unfortunately, it had the opposite effect, making me appear out of place with such a sweet, young, unadorned face.

  “What are we going to see?” I asked.

  “The gods in their natural habitat. Then, perhaps you will understand their depravity, and why we should not even bother. They are trite at this point, and I tire of them easily.”

  “What If I don’t?”

  “Kore…” Demeter’s voice was woven like strands of wheat. Soft if you rubbed them the right way, but sharp enough to prick if you did not.

  “It’s simply a question.”

  “It’s not.”

  I crossed my arms petulantly, feeling low on the day I was supposed to feel exalted. Demeter always meant well, but it didn’t make it any easier to bear when our desires did not align.

  She led me to a quiet courtyard with a fountain that spouted shimmering rainbow water. Clearly, Iris had touched it. I knelt to drift my fingers through the lotus blossoms perfuming the pool, letting their silky petals swirl in tiny whirlpools around my fingers. It was scented with jasmine, and iridescent in the eternal sunshine. Me? I preferred a nice rainy day every once in a while. How else would flowers come to their full potential without a little rain? How else would we appreciate the glory of the sun?