Page 17 of Song of Memories

“I’ve got something for that too if you need to clean up in here before Hades sees it.”

Persephone grabbed at one of the cups that Hecate was extending towards them. Persephone downed it in one go, coughing slightly and tossing the empty cup over her shoulder once she was done. “I said that Hades was the neat freak, not that I was afraid of him.”

“Leave me out of it,” Pan grunted, “and thank you, goddess.” He held up his cup in a salute before following Persephone in throwing it down in one sip, pleasantly surprised by the minty burn of whatever Hecate had concocted. It spread throughout his body and chased away the dull, pounding sensation of his hangover before he could get another word out.

“Goodness,” Pan looked at the empty cup in amazement before turning his gaze to Hecate. “You could bottle this and sell it to gods and man alike. You’d make a fortune.”

Hecate shook her head. “Witchcraft is never for sale, Pan. Be cautious of anyone pretending to tell you—or sell you—anything different.”

“Understood.” Pan dipped his head in reverence before sighing heavily and tying some of his hair back. He looked around the room and tried to piece together the events of the past night.

Persephone had stayed with him throughout the night. Pan couldn’t keep his mind off the fact that Orpheus and Eurydice were most likely spending their night…reuniting…and Persephone got him drunker and drunker until he very literally couldn’t keep his mind on anything. He was momentarily distracted from slipping down into an abyss of overthinking when the doors to the receiving hall were thrown open.

Everyone in the room jumped at the intrusion, freezing in place and looking around at the mess that they’d yet to tidy up as Hades stepped into the room.

“Shit.” Pan blushed crimson and ducked behind Persephone, which he always considered the safest place when confronted with an angry Hades. Hades didn’t take a single step into the room, merely raising an eyebrow and looking around at the chaos with a completely stoic expression.

“Well,” Hecate smiled and clapped her hands together, “that seems like it’s my cue to leave. Aeëtes is due back any minute now from a visit to his parents’. Pan, Persephone,” she turned to them with a wink, “you know where to find me if you get in any more trouble.”

Before Pan could even beg Hecate to stay and help keep him from Hades’s wrath for trashing the throne room, she disappeared on a cloud of red smoke.

“Hades.” Persephone was grinning as if nothing was amiss. “Lover. How are you this fine morning?” She crossed the room with the grace of someone who had not been singing inappropriate sailor’s rhymes at four in the morning while rose vines appeared in her hair and braided it for her as she walked.

Hades was dressed in formal attire—an elaborate, gold-trimmed himation pinned over his usual black chlamys. His brooch that morning was a large diamond, matching the circlet that sat on his brow, pinning some of his long, curly hair out of his face.

“We have an audience this morning, beloved,” Hades grunted, looking past his wife and pinning his gaze on Pan. “It’s probably good that you’re here, Pan.”

Pan paled and tried to stand up even straighter, nodding his head in what he hoped was a very polite, normal manner and not the demented, erratic way he felt.

There’s no way that means anything good.

Hades took one step into the throne room, revealing the backlit silhouette of a man behind him. Pan’s entire body tensed as the man walked forward, stepping into the light of the rising sun. He picked up his head, revealing his face to the small audience, and Pan’s heavy heart was lit on fire with rage.

Orpheus stood at the entrance to the throne room, a smug, contrite expression on his face. Pan could hardly hear Persephone as she started yelling at both Hades and Orpheus. Memories started playing out in his head like a wicked tide he couldn’t stop from crashing over him—memories of the last time he saw Orpheus in this hall, begging Hades for an opportunity to bring Eurydice back from the dead with him. The sick feeling in Pan’s stomach, momentarily abated thanks to Hecate’s magic, surged within him until Pan was dizzy on his feet.

He blinked rapidly and forced himself to turn away, walking back towards the windows. He reached out and gripped the wall in support, trying to calm his racing heart as he looked out to the now empty banks of the Styx. Pan focused on his breathing, reminding himself that there was nothing he could do to Orpheus.

Think of how it would affect Eurydice… It would break her heart if anything happened to the poet. That’s what you need to remember… Only a horrible friend would wish ill on their best friend’s lover.

With Eurydice’s heart at the forefront of his mind, only then was Pan able to push back the crippling ache in his bones. He turned around and faced the great room, turning where Hades and Persephone were now seated on their thrones. Persephone looked furious, unable or unwilling to keep the ire off her face as she squared off with Orpheus. Hades was as stoic as ever, the world’s undeniable champion at keeping his cards close to his chest.

“Pan,” Hades nodded once in acknowledgement. “Orpheus has requested a meeting with me here today to discuss his return to the Underworld.”

Pan crossed his arms over his chest and refused to look at Orpheus.

“Hasn’t he already come to this room and sought out a bargain with you once?” Pan quipped.

“I come seeking no bargains!” Orpheus hissed, pointing his finger at Pan.

“You haven’t even been in the Underworld a full day yet,” Pan growled, his voice dropping lower while his horns flickered and reappeared on his head, his fingers elongating into claws, “and you’ve already abandoned Eurydice. People can say whatever they want about you, but at least you’re consistent.”

“How dare you, beast,” Orpheus cried, “and gods forbid I leave a grown woman alone for a few hours.”

“She’s a nymph, not a woman,” Pan shouted. “Eurydice was always too much for you.” Pan spun on his heel and turned towards Orpheus, and for a brief moment, it looked like the two of them were prepared to charge one another.

“Enough!” Hades boomed, clapping his hands while thunder rang out among the rafters of the great hall. “I will have order, or there will be no audience. Orpheus, make your statement.”

Pan couldn’t help but feel a little bit more warmth towards Hades at the fact that he did not reprimand him for nearly going after Orpheus. He waited with bated breath to see what it was that Orpheus could possibly want now from the gods of the Underworld.

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