Page 89 of His in the Dark

Persephone falls into a dream, her limbs getting heavy. For the moment, she does not know what I have done.

I’ve risked the world - all of the worlds - for her.

Nothing in all my years has driven me to risk so much. Not even my own soul. I could have fought Zeus to not be trapped here but I did not. I could have lived in the seas like Poseidon or the sky like Apollo. I did my duty and took my position trapped in the Underworld.

I did not want to risk imbalance.

But now I have done it.

It is a heavy choice, but as I lay with Persephone, I know it was the only way.

She does not know how worthy of this she is. If the worlds burn and the Gods destroy one another, Persephone would be worth it.

Because she is my Elysium. She is not just one version of heaven. She is not a fleeting ideal. She is the only place I will ever find rest or peace. She is the only place where touch is a haven.

My only Elysium.

My Persephone.

HEKATE

The skies around Olympus crack to pieces. Lightning splits the clouds with hot, blinding fury. It is deafening—even more so than the wind, which whips through the elegant buildings on Olympus. Curtains snap at me like vipers. My dark purple, nearly black, robes curl around my calves, the hem kissing my ankles.

I’ve never seen Olympus like this before. The darkness in the skies is … an omen. One I haven’t witnessed since the fall of the Titans.

When it is at peace, Olympus is a realm of golden sun and navy blue night. Brilliant, colorful sunrises and stars that twinkle like diamonds. It is sturdy and strong. It seems to pin the skies in place, keeping all that it touches in balance.

Now, it is a kingdom lost in a storm. Black and gray clouds crowd out every beam of sunlight. All they let through is the lightning, which strikes so close to me as I enter that I can smell the burning air left behind. Pausing, I consider why I’m here. I do not trust the cobblestones beneath my feet. Any one of them could plummet away underneath me at any moment.

This cannot continue. This cannot hold. Olympus will fall away underneath me, or be thrown into the sky. It will be torninto pieces, me among them. It appears only the edge crumbles now, but in time, it will cease to exist and the crossroads will crack.

I need to find Demeter. Every doorway I peer through shows nothing but disarray. Blankets have blown off beds and landed on chairs. Vases have turned over, spilling their contents onto the floor and ceramic shards laying on cold floors.

They have fled. In the madness, they take cover.

The lightning shakes all of Olympus. No part of it is being spared. This is because Demeter’s sorrow and rage are larger than all the realms of the Gods.

If I can only find Demeter and speak to her, there may yet be a chance to right this. A way to change the path the Fates have set out for all of us. A way to change the decisions that have led us off that path. I do not know, but I will try.

Demeter’s sobs are heard as the pounding thunder relents. They wrench my heart in two. They are sobs of pure despair. She has lost her child, and now the world will be lost to her, too.

Nothing could possibly compare to the loss of a child.

This catastrophe feels as if it is on behalf of all mothers who have lost a child. All of them, everywhere, their hearts spilling out through Demeter herself.

What mother would stop searching? None, I think. They have to be forced to give up, and even then, they never put the burden of love down.

There! I turn, my torch in hand and hounds behind me. In darkness I follow the call of her cries down that hall of withered roses. Through that door. I proceed down the halls of Olympus, but it is the same as before. Every doorway looks in on an empty room, or else it looks in on a room with people huddled in the corner, holding tightly to each other’s hands and weeping.

None of them are Demeter.

I do not find her.

Demeter’s voice comes from another direction, her howls piercing my ears. They are so close shemustbe here.

Then, the next moment?—

Distant. Out of sight.

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