Breathing hard and shaking, he brought the ring to his lips, curled it safely into his palm, and held it to his heart before he fell into darkness once more.
CHAPTER XXXVIII
– PERSEPHONE
Persephone entered the dark mouth of the cave and the others followed. Theseus kept Sybil nearby, a hand constantly on her forearm, a reminder that if Persephone messed up, her friend would bear the consequences.
The cave was large and each sniffled, whimper, and sob echoed in Persephone’s ears, feeding her fury. She had to think up a plan and began to wonder if this entrance to the Underworld was like the one in Nevernight. Was it a portal that would take her anywhere she envisioned?
They walked until they came face to face with a rock wall that appeared to block their entry.
“What is this?” Theseus demanded.
“This is the entrance to the Underworld,” Persephone explained quickly. She reached forward, hands sinking into the wall. The portal was cold and the magic swirling around her skin was like the flutter of wings. It was comforting because it was Hades’ magic, and it made her chest ache.
Where was Hades? She’d bound him in the Upperworld only to ensure he granted Theseus’s favor, which had been fulfilled the moment she’d left Alexandria Tower.
Perhaps he is waiting for us in the Underworld, she told herself.
“I will step through first,” she said.
“No,” Theseus commanded. “Demeter will go.”
“That is not wise,” Persephone argued. “Monsters guard these gates.”
“Worried for me, my flower?” Demeter asked, her voice thick with sarcasm.
“No,” Persephone said. “I worry for my monsters.”
For Cerberus, Typhon, and Orthrus specifically.
“I will not risk Sybil’s pain,” Persephone said. “You have nothing to worry about from me.”
“Fine,” he said, the word slipping between his teeth like a curse. “Just remember, I’m a little bored cutting fingers.”
With that, Persephone entered the portal. It was like wading through water and she moved slow, basking in the feel of Hades magic, before coming out on the other side in Hecate’s meadow. It seemed so bright after experiencing the night in the Upperworld and the dark of the cave.
“Persephone,” Hecate said. “What’s wrong?”
She blinked turning toward the Goddess of Witchcraft who stood dressed in dark robes with Nefeli at her side.
“Hecate,” Persephone began, but quickly slammed her mouth shut as Theseus, Sybil, Demeter, and Harmonia entered behind her. As they appeared, a deadly growl erupted from around them. It came from Nefeli and from Cerberus, Typhon, and Orthurus who crept out from between the trees.
“No, Cerberus!” Persephone commanded.
The dogs halted, still tense, still poised for attack, but did not growl.
“What is this?” Theseus asked. “A trap?”
“No!” Persephone said. “No. It is not a trap!”
She stared at Hecate, her eyes wide and desperate, communicating what she could, knowing the goddess could read her mind. She showed her what had happened in the last several hours—from the time Sybil had gone missing, to finding her severed finger at work, the avalanche and battle between the Olympians, to Theseus’s favor.
Persephone turned to face the demi-god.
“Hecate is my companion. She only came to ensure I was well.”
“Yes, of course,” Hecate managed a tight smile, then her eyes shifted to Demeter. “What a treat. The Goddess of Harvest in the Realm of the Dead. Come to pay your respects to the hundreds you’ve murdered in the last month?”
Demeter offered a cold smile. “I have no desire to dwell upon the past.”
“If only that were true,” Hecate replied. “Are you not here because of the past?”
Demeter scowled and spoke to Theseus. “She is a powerful goddess—perhaps you should choose a limb from the mortal, so Persephone behaves.”
“No,” Persephone said, her voice dark. “Hecate will not bother us, will you? She will remain in her meadow while we travel to the palace.”
“Of course, I will do as my Queen commands,” Hecate replied. “However, it would be quicker for you to teleport.”
“No teleporting,” Theseus said. “I cannot trust that we will end up where we should.”
“If my lady commands it, you can trust I will take you exactly where you want to go,” Hecate said, her voice pleasant, but Persephone sensed the undercurrent of darkness within.
Persephone looked to Theseus. He hesitated, uncertain.
“Do not trust this goddess’s magic. She is evil,” Demeter said.
“Shut up!” Theseus commanded.
Demeter’s eyes narrowed.
“Command her,” he said. “But remember, I hold your friend’s life within my hands.”
“Hecate, takes us to Hades’ arsenal.”
As Hecate’s magic surrounded them, Persephone shivered. She remembered fighting the goddess in this very meadow, feeling the strength and age of her power. It left a darkness upon the heart that was hard to shake, but right now, it was comforting—comforting because she knew Hecate would fight, and the results would be deadly.
They appeared outside the arsenal. The door to the vault was round and gold, inlaid with thick, clear glass that showed all the locks and gears.
Theseus whirled upon Persephone and Hecate, his fingers biting into Sybil’s arm.
“I thought you said you would take us to the arsenal.”
“I have,” Hecate said calmly. “But even I am prevented from teleporting inside. The queen or king himself, are the only two who can open the vault.”
Persephone started to protest, but Theseus once again threatened Sybil.
“Open it!” He screamed, his madness returning—he was so close to what he wanted, he could barely contain himself.
Persephone looked at Hecate, desperate.
I don’t know how.
You don’t have to know, she said.
Persephone stepped forward and placed her hand upon a pad beside the door. Once it had scanned her handprint, the door began to grind, winding open like a wheel to reveal Hades’ arsenal. Persephone stepped into the familiar, round room with its black marble floor and walls covered in weapons, but her eyes—like Theseus’s—went to the center where Hades’ armor loomed and the Helm of Darkness rested at its feet.
Theseus pushed Sybil toward Demeter as he entered.
“Hold her!” He barked.
Hecate hovered near Harmonia.
“It is more magnificent than I could have imagined,” Theseus said as he stepped toward the display. Persephone’s gaze held Hecate’s, unwavering.
Get them out here, she begged.
Of course, the goddess said.
When Theseus touched Hades’ helm, Hecate’s magic was like a thrust, sweeping Harmonia and Sybil out of the arsenal to safety. Theseus’ hands slipped and Hades’ helm fell from its place upon the pedestal, rolling onto the ground with a loud crack.
“No!” Theseus growled.
Persephone’s magic erupted, thorns rose from gashes in the marble, sealing exits. Demeter’s lips peeled away from her gleaming teeth as she smiled wickedly.