Page 78 of His in the Dark

My mind riddles with so many questions. Most of which take me back. I do not wish to ask the same questions. I do not wish to even think of that fear. I am different now. And I do not know what I would even ask of the Fates. All the while the questions in my mind lead back to my mother, back to Olympus, but not back to who I once was.

We bathe and dress in a blur of kisses and touches, then Hades offers me his arm and escorts me to the path.

It is the same path I have walked before. After a short distance, Hades must sense that I am questioning our destination.

“When I must meet with the Fates, I do so on neutral ground. There is a forest glade in which they dwell. It appears to be part of the Underworld, but it is not. It is not part of any realm, which makes it suitable for private conversations.”

A branching path appears a few steps ahead of us.

“Here,” Hades says, and steers us onto it.

We follow that path until it opens into a forest glade, just as Hades said it would. The dwelling in the center is not large, but it is elegant. Its white walls remind me of Olympus. Perhaps this place is why Olympus looks as it does. Perhaps the Fates werethe inspiration. It is so different here compared to the other times I have met with them. They do not know time and space, for they are Fate.

Hades takes me to the large iron decorated wooden door and opens it for me. We step inside together, all the while my blood rages in my ears. My pulse quickening. I do not know what to ask. But I think of my mother. I think of the vision I had.

The room inside is comfortably dim in comparison to the daylight outside. There is a certain stillness in the air, as if time itself is being held in place.

There are the Fates—three beautiful women, each in dark gowns, each sitting on a chair like a throne on the opposite side of the room. Each holds a golden thread gracefully in her hand, or crooked over a finger, or pinched between thumb and forefinger. Those threads glow, giving off light that reminds me of fireflies in a summer garden.

“I will be here, just outside, when you are finished.” Hades bends to kiss my temple, then leaves, closing the door behind him.

I approach the Fates with my head slightly bowed to show my respect for them. I hope my racing heart is not obvious.

The Fates rise from their seats, gold threads in hand. “Persephone.”

I cannot tell which one of the sisters has spoken, or if it was all of them at once.

“I do not know why I have been given this gift,” I admit.

“We have a message for you.” My heart jumps to my throat. A message? It would be the first one I have received in the Underworld.From my mother? My father?

“I would like to hear it. Very much.”

The Fates pause, then speak again in that strange chorus of a voice.

“You may thrive in death as much as you would have thrived in life,” they say. “But neither life would be complete, regardless of which you choose.”

What? That is not any message I had expected. All the warm, hazy feelings that stumbled upon me drop to the floor and are replaced with cold confusion.

“There is no way for me to have a complete life here? Is that what you’re saying?” I whisper, thinking of the powers I lost. The longing for them back has not withered as my flowers surely do.

“That is not what was said,” they answer calmly. “You must listen.”

“I will listen,” I murmur attempting to remember what they said word for word.

I cannot quell my frustration, and it seems the Fates don’t feel any at all. I fold my hands together and clasp them tight to keep from making fists. There is no running from Fate and I do not know that I am entirely ready for mine. It feels as though I’ve just found footing again and that they’re here to throw me off balance.

“I miss my mother,” I say finally, the grief of missing her twisting in my gut. It is easier to ignore it when I am in bed with Hades or at his side in court, but she is mymother.I had never been apart from her before I came to the Underworld. All that separated us were the secrets I kept from her. I wish she knew I was well. I wish I could see her again. Tears prick at the back of my eyes and I swear whatever magic exists in the bedchambers has been broken in this room, for I feel like a child again.

“She misses you as well.” The Fates sound reassuring, though their words only make me miss her more.

I do not know what to say, but I gather myself as much as I can.

“Tell me again, please,” I ask. “So that I may remember this message.”

The Fates tug at the strings in their hands.

“You can thrive in death in the Underworld as much as you can in life on Olympus.” They speak more slowly this time. “But neither life would be complete.”

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