Page 55 of Hades

Keras put it out there.

“Luring Mother to the mortal world is all a big ploy to make Father leave the Underworld via that gate—a gate that will be undefended.”

He exchanged a look with everyone.

“We need to stop him before he reaches it.”

Chapter 16

Persephone stared out of the narrow window at the ocean, the slight breeze that flowed through the room from the other windows to her left and right stirring the ankle-length black fabric of her torn nightgown. She idly rubbed her dirty arms, her mind a hollow void, fingers not feeling the blood that flaked on her skin. Minutes drifted by, rolling into hours that felt endless in the silence that enshrouded her. Her steady breaths were all she knew, the only things she felt as she drifted with the time, unable to find the strength to do anything else.

She had lost count of the number of times the female daemon had visited her with Mnemosyne, pushing harrowing, life-like visions of Persephone’s family being murdered onto her. Each visit had cut out another piece of her heart, stealing a sliver of her strength with it. Each new way she had watched Hades die had ripped her apart and although she had tried to piece herself back together each time her captors left, she was never the same as she had been before the vision had begun.

“It is all lies,” she murmured, voice distant to her ears as her gaze remained rooted on the azure water, each ripple that danced across it stealing her focus to have her eyes following it before another snagged her attention. “All lies.”

She stroked her arm more fervently, a poor attempt to rid herself of the chill that had seeped into her marrow, settling there and refusing to leave no matter what she did.

No matter what she told herself.

“Hades is well.” Her vision blurred. “He is alive. My children are alive. It is all lies.”

Persephone drew down a shuddering breath and exhaled, blinked away her tears and looked down at her torn black dress. Between the rips, red streaks marred her thighs, the wounds Mnemosyne had inflicted upon her to ratchet up her despair still healing because she couldn’t sleep. Several hours rest would see all her wounds healed, but how could she sleep when Mnemosyne could come to her cell at any moment? How could she rest knowing that Hades was out there, searching for her?

She couldn’t, even when she knew that rest would not only heal her body but restore some of her waning strength.

A cut darted across her left breast, cleaving into the cinched material of the strap of her nightgown to leave a V that almost reached the other side. She picked at it, pressing the two parts together, concern pricking at her. If she wasn’t careful, the material would rend in two.

She felt as if she had done just that.

The cold void behind her breastbone ached and she rubbed at it, desperate to chase that chill away.

“Hades is well,” she murmured, clinging to that belief because it was all that gave her strength now. “They are all safe.”

The fact that Mnemosyne continued to visit her daily to mete out punishment was evidence enough of that, and her last visit had given Persephone a shred of hope.

Rather than employing the powers of the illusionist to torture her, Mnemosyne had come alone. The titaness hadn’t uttered a word to her. She had come at Persephone so quickly she hadn’t had time to react and had cut her with the knife, rage building in her countenance with each slash she made on Persephone’s flesh, and then when Persephone had begun to fight back, Mnemosyne had shoved her to the ground and whirled away from her.

The titaness’s voice had been thick with frustration as she had ordered the guards to watch her.

And had added she would be gone some time.

Where had she gone?

That question filled Persephone’s mind whenever she found the energy to think rather than simply exist. She knew without a doubt that Mnemosyne’s frustration stemmed from Hades not coming to take her back, and while she wished her husband was here, battling to reach her, she was glad he hadn’t fallen for the titaness’s tricks.

Protecting the Underworld and all in it was more important than rescuing her.

She rubbed the spot over her heart a little harder, trying to ignore the ache there. Itwasmore important. A small huff escaped her as she almost smiled. No doubt her children were doing all in their power to keep their father at the palace. Keras had probably taken command, rising to the task.

“He must have such a battle on his hands,” she whispered, constructing an illusion of her own as she pictured him in her mind. He would be fierce as he tried to stop Hades from trying to find her, rallying his brothers and his sister to aid him in his efforts. Hades would be furious, of course. He would want to find her, and it would bring out his darkness. She frowned at the ocean. “Can Keras handle that?”

She wasn’t sure.

Her children were strong, but were they strong enough to stop their father?

Clever enough?

She lifted her hand to her throat and absently stroked it, thinking about the last time Hades had needed to find her. He had employed every trick he knew to slip unnoticed into Olympus. Her children would be wise to remove his helmet from his reach. She canted her head as a boat drifted into view, a small wooden vessel powered by a set of oars in the hands of a young man.

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