Page 53 of His in the Dark

It is not lifelessness that I sense all around me, though that is what my childhood would have had me believe. It is not cold death—or notonlycold death. The souls in the Underworld are not the same as stones left to be battered by weather.

I try to light the fire again. Did it go out before I knelt at the grate? Did it sense, somehow, that I wanted to try my hand at magic? I cannot remember.

It does not take. Closing my eyes, I raise my palms to the fire, my knees against the hard rock. I attempt to light the flames again, “You will light for me. For that is my wish and what I wish is what is granted,” I whisper.

I swear when I open my eyes there’s a flicker of light, but it’s quickly gone and in it’s place, my frustration. “Would they bow their heads if they could see my failures?” I hiss at the unlit fire. My sense of worth fades as I pace the floor and in that moment, I am compelled to leave. I cannot stay trapped in this room. It’s suffocating.

I go for a walk along the path. I donotthink of magic or the fire or the way it would not light for me. That kind of failure isn’t something I’m comfortable with. I let my mind settle on lighting that candle in Olympus—casting that protection spell, which did not protect me. It had seemed like it would not happen, but then…

It did.

The scene plays over in my mind again, what I can remember of it at least. Did the magic work? I felt it. Surely I felt it through every fiber in my soul.

What power did I feel, then? I keep my eyes open as I pass the Isle of Achilles, shining in the middle of the water. I took from the power at my right hand, drawn from the stones, and blew it out with my breath until the flame lit.

I did that because I am capable of magic. Always, I tell myself, reminding myself of Silvie’s stories and the lessons they hold. The magic never leaves me. It cannot. It is only the soul who chooses not to believe in it who loses the magic. And yet, it is always right there.

My pace quickens as I harness that feeling, deep in my womb it emerges as if it was waiting for me to remember.

With a prickling at the back of my neck, I feel someone watching me.

Turning on my heel, there is no one. My heart races and I’m met with an uncomfortable feeling. Like being woken in the middle of the night.

It could be Hades; I have not seen him since he left his rooms this morning.

After a moment, a woman passes me on the path. She stops and turns toward me, dipping her head, so I nod back to her. Curiosity sparks in my chest. Where is she going? Does she have an errand, is it for pleasure, or is she going on someone’s orders? What does it look like tolivein the Underworld, a place where there is no life?

I think to follow her but I do not. I think to call out and ask, but I do not. For it is the curiosity that intrigues me.

I try to keep my mind open as I return from my walk. There are a thousand questions that could be asked about the Underworld, and I let all of them float into my mind. I don’t let myself dismiss any of them, even the simple ones.

Curiosity is like a flame.

Curiosity is its own power.

Quickly, with this feeling brewing inside of me, desperately holding onto it, I rush back to the bedchambers.

I kneel back before the hearth. The low flames that have not done a single thing to warm Hades’s rooms flicker out, fading to nothing as I watch.

The hearth is waiting for me. It’s waiting in anticipation for me to direct magic to it and bring the flames back to life. My breath leaves me in a rush as I realize it’s there. It’s waiting.

With my eyes wide open, I direct the magic into the hearth. Telling it to do as I will.

An embercracksunder my magic. My hands tremble and a new flame rises within me. Just as I feel so close to bringing the flames forth, the bells on the door ring, interrupting me.

Olympus

Beatrice

My Goddess did not leaveme. I know it to be true. From the runes and the cards. From her mother’s wails for nine days. She’s been taken.

Zeus does not seem as stricken as Demeter. She’s searched all of Olympus and reached out to the corners of each realm. No one heard but a single scream in the night.

The courts have gone quiet and the skies darkened with bolts of thunder.

It is unlike anything that I have witnessed before. Fear is not my companion but as the days pass with no answers, my concern grows and tears now flow freely as I mourn her loss.

Where has she gone?I ask again to the cards and once again the Death card emerges but I refuse to think of her soul as gone. It mustn’t be right. I toss the deck with worn edges to the side, refusing to believe she is no more. She is my Goddess and I swear I can still feel her and there is pain there. As a mortal, I can barely stand the agony.

---