Page 74 of Hades and Persephone: Threads of Fate

Mom giggles. “And Mrs. Opal heard him bragging to the Preston brothers about taking you out. He’s smitten already.”

Ice snakes in my veins. “Mom, I’m in no hurry to settle down or start a family.”

“What are you going to do, then?”

“Build a career. That’s why I’m here.”

Mom makes a noise of pure disgust. I just know she’s rolling her eyes. “Nonsense. It’s an experience, and honestly, honey, it’s a silly one. No one can have a life digging in the dirt all around the world chasing the past.”

“Maybe that’s exactly the life I want.”

“Persephone, you’re being unreasonable.”

“Mom—” I clamp my mouth shut. I don’t want to say anything I might regret. I sigh. “Is Dad home?”

“He’s in the field.”

“Okay, can you tell him I love him. I love you,too, by the way.”

“We’re not done talking.”

“Yeah, I am, Mom.”

“Don’t you dare ha?—”

I disconnect, feeling entirely put out as I drop my phone to the cushion. Jas gives a low whine and lowers her head into my lap. I stroke her lovingly, thankful for her comfort when I feel so sad and frustrated inside.

I sigh. “I’ll never be the daughter they want.” Emotion stings my nose when Noc sits directly in front of me, his eyes fixed on mine as though to tell me he’s here and he’s listening. I laugh, because I’m still crazy—and now I’m talking to dogs and seriously thinking that they understand what I’m saying. “I’ve never been the daughter they wanted. I was supposed to be their miracle, but I was their curse.”

Noc growls low, like he disagrees. I lean forward to press a kiss to his nose. He bumps my nose with his as I pull back. I sniffle and whisper my confession to the pups, “I’m crazy, you know?”

Prim wiggles closer, and I find myself surrounded by good pups I’ve not disillusioned myself to think couldn’t rip me to shreds if they so desired.

Still, with them, I don’t feel quite as alone.

Chapter

Thirty-Four

Hades

It’s never been loston me that Hermes does his best to guide the dead, even though he can no longer cross into the Underworld. He can no longer comfort the souls to the very edge of the Acheron, where they await passage from Charon. But he does his best by ensuring they have passage to cross the Marsh.

I’ve wondered why he bothers with the ancient tradition when it affects only the Underworld. The souls who must find their way to their place, whether it be a place of resting, torment, or to be born again.To try again.

Although, lately, more and more souls are choosing to rest permanently in the Underworld. Some, even, are simply lingering. Many where they were never intended to linger, like the souls who build homes in the Vale of Mourning, with wood brined in the river Cocytus. Soon they will have created a Weeping City to stand opposite Asphodel City, where happiness and abundance is known to all.

The point is that less and less wish to return to this realm of life, where love isn’t guaranteed in the same way pain and deception are. It’s telling, this refusal to be born again into the realm of life. It’s proof of just how distorted the living realm has become. How selfish and ugly.

Still, it’s not like it affects Hermes one way or another, and yet there he is plain as day, placing a silver coin into the cold palm of an old woman. I already know she lived a good life. An honorable life. She has lived many honorable lives. And I know before her soul faces my own, under the judgement of the Crown of Souls, that she will be welcomed happily into Asphodel City. She has family there.

Hermes has not seen me, but he doesn’t need eyes to feel that I am near. “Hades, I’ve been expecting you.”

My reply is dry. “I would imagine.”

Hermes leans close to the old woman, dropping a kiss to her forehead. He turns to me. There’s a sobernessin his eyes that is rare from the Messenger God of Tricks. “Come. What you want to see is in my office.”

I follow him—a man I once considered a friend, now an enemy. His office is like it’s always been. Statues of the Gods adorn shelves that threaten to burst with books. What would he do with the tome I’m reading now. Would he whisper the knowledge into Zeus’ ear? Would he give the God of Sky and Thunder all the knowledge he needs to split the Gods’ immortal forms from their mortal bodies, like he splits the whole souls he crafts from the very stars in the sky, tossing them to earth to watch in amusement as they suffer, lost in the search for their other half?

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