Theseus’s eyes found Persephone.
“What did I say?”
Before she had a chance to react, a horrible cry came from the darkness around them, and the boat was flipped.
Persephone hit the water hard but broke the surface quickly, in time to see Sybil struggling to hold Harmonia up.
“Sybil!” Persephone called, but just as she started to swim toward the two, a shock of power sent them flying back. Persephone fought the waves as a creature roared, exploding from the water—followed by Demeter who stood atop a plume of water. The creature was something Persephone didn’t recognize. She was a goddess with large, downturned horns that stuck out on either side of her head. Her hair was long, and fell over her shoulders, down her naked breasts, falling to the edge of her scaley tentacles—which she’d used to hold Theseus prisoner.
“Ceto,” Demeter said. “I will not hesitate to sever your tentacles from your body.”
“You can try, Dread Demeter,” she said. “But you are not welcome here.”
Her mother summoned a blade and jumped, moving in a blur. In the next second, the tentacle that held Theseus was severed, falling into the black lake below. Ceto roared, and lashed out at Demeter, sending the goddess flying. In her rage, the waves rose, high and fast, burying Persephone, Sybil, and Harmonia beneath the surface once more.
“Stop!”
Persephone cried, water rushing into her mouth, but the two goddesses continued to engage, creating chaos in the lake around them. Ceto’s tentacles swept out, catching Persephone around her waist and lifting her from the lake.
“Ceto!” she cried, her lungs burned as she coughed, spitting up water. “I command you to stop!”
The goddess froze and turned toward Persephone; her eyes widened.
“My lady,” she said, placing her hand to her chest and bowing her head. “Forgive me. I did not sense you.”
She started to speak when she felt a rush of Demeter’s power. Her head snapped in her mother’s direction in time to see the goddess wielding her sword in mid-air.
“No,” she snapped, and her mother froze, eyes wide and wild, face contorted in an angry scowl.
Persephone turned back to Ceto. “My friends are in this lake,” Persephone said. “Will you find them for me?”
“Of course, my queen,” she said, but her eyes shifted to Demeter who was still suspended in the air.
“She will not bother you again,” she promised.
Ceto moved Persephone to the shore, before the cave-like entrance to the Underworld and disappeared below the water. It wasn’t long before the monster returned with Sybil and Harmonia. As she sat them on the sandy beach, they both collapsed, exhausted from fighting the water’s unnatural current. Sybil rolled onto her hands and knees and crawled to Harmonia who looked pale, almost blue. Persephone ran, falling to her knees beside them.
“Harmonia! Open your eyes!” she begged. “Harmonia!”
But the goddess would not respond. Persephone looked frantically from her face to her chest, sensing the faint pulse of life—but it was quickly fading.
“Sybil, move!” Persephone commanded, pushing the oracle out of the way. She placed her hands upon the goddess’s chest and closed her eyes, seeking the life that remained inside her and when she pinned it down, her body began to feel warm—the same way it felt when she healed. She pushed that heat into Harmonia, and after a moment, her stomach turned, and she was forced to pull away and vomit into the sand—it was nothing but water, but it burned the back of her throat and dripped from her nose. As she did, Harmonia took a deep breath.
They barely had time to recover before Theseus appeared, dragging Sybil up by her hair, drawing a knife against her throat.
“No, please! Please!” Persephone begged. She was on her hands and knees before the demi-god, frantic.
“I told you safe passage,” Theseus said through gritted teeth.
“I did not know!” She screamed, her voice breaking.
“It doesn’t matter what you know,” he snapped. “She will suffer for your ignorance!”
He released her hair and grabbed her hand, cutting off a second finger and throwing it at Persephone’s feet. Sybil screamed, Harmonia sobbed, and Persephone raged, her eyes burning with tears.
Once it was done, Theseus seemed to calm.
“Get up,” he commanded. Then turned to where Demeter still hung, suspended in the air. “Release her.”
Persephone did as he asked, and the goddess plummeted into the lake. It took a few minutes for her to join them onshore, her eyes bright and gleaming with just as much anger as Persephone felt.
“Lead us into the Underworld,” Theseus commanded.
CHAPTER XXXVII
– HADES
Motherfucking Theseus.
Forget an eternity of misery in Tartarus, Hades would not rest until his nephew ceased to exist. He would shatter his soul, cut his thread into a million pieces, and consume them. It would be the most savory meal he’d ever eaten.
Fucking favor.
Fucking Fates.
He strained against Persephone’s bindings, his limbs shook, his muscles tightened but they would not give.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
She was powerful and he would have felt more pride if she hadn’t left with that bastard demi-god. He knew why she’d done it. She’d wanted to protect him, and the thought filled him with a conflict that made his chest ache. He loved her so much, and he raged that she would put herself in danger, even if he understood it.
What would Theseus do to her?
The thought sent another wave of fury through him, and he fought against her bindings once more. This time, he heard the distinct snap of one, and his foot was free. He wrenched his arm, veins rising to the surface of his skin, the vine cut into his wrist, until it finally broke. He tore at the remaining bindings after that, and once he was free, he teleported.
Persephone had a knack for hiding her own, personal energy signature. He had not yet discovered if it was merely one of her powers, or a result of having her powers dormant for so long. Either way, it made it impossible to find her—except when she wore her ring. He focused on the unique energy of the stones—the pureness of the tourmaline and the sweet caress of the dioptase. He had not set out to track her when he’d given it to her, he would have been able to trace any precious metal or gem so long as he became familiar with it.
He manifested among ruins.
It did not take him long to recognized where he’d arrived: the crumbling Palace of Knossos. In the night, it was impossible to make out the detailed and colorful paintings that covered what was left of the ancient walls, or exactly how many miles the grounds stretched, but Hades knew because he’d known this place in its prime and throughout its inevitable destruction.
It was here he sensed Persephone’s ring, but faintly. He knew these ruins went deep into the belly of the earth; a twisted maze meant to confuse. He imagined Persephone somewhere within and his anger drew him into the shell of the palace.
Though it was dark, his eyes adjusted, and as he crossed a broken, blue mosaic floor, he came to a dark pit. It seemed to be a part of the floor that had given away. He spoke to the shadows, commanding them to descend. He watched through them as the chasm turned into another level of the palace, then dipped further into an even deeper level.