corridor outside Hades’s chambers, her back pressed against the door, bracing the stout wooden bar she’d wedged in place to hold it closed. The door shuddered with the blows Hades rained on it from within. Biting her bottom lip, she held back the words of reassurance she longed to say to him. She had learned from his previous bouts of madness over the past two days that any sound she made would incite him into further frenzy.
The door shook with another blow but this one was less forceful than its predecessor. Three more strikes impacted the wood, each with diminishing ferocity and strength. This fit, too, was ebbing.
When at last all was silent within, Persephone waited the space of ten breaths, then peeled away from the door. She moved the wooden bar aside. Easing the door, which was beginning to splinter, open, she peered into the room. Hades lay curled on the floor, eyes clenched shut. Sweat drenched his body and he shook as though taken with an ague. His eyes fluttered open and settled on Persephone’s face. Putting out a hand, he slurred something incomprehensible. Persephone hurried forward, crouched, slung his arm over her shoulder, and together they staggered upright. Chest pumping like a bellows, Hades slumped against her as they shuffled into his bedchamber.
Persephone eased him onto his bed. He looked up and touched her face. He tried again to speak but Persephone hushed him with a hand to his lips. His frustration at his inability to communicate might provoke him into a frenzy again and she couldn’t bear to witness another so soon.
Under her touch he subsided, but continued to gaze at her, tears streaking from the outer corners of his eyes and soaking the cushion under his head. Persephone lowered herself next to him. She stroked the hair back from his brow and murmured soothing words until he moved from troubled consciousness into disturbed sleep.
When she was sure he slept, she rose and began to put the chamber as much to rights as possible, though there was not, after three days of his rages, much left to salvage. Even the frescoes on his wall had suffered under his maddened blows.
After she finished straightening the room, Persephone returned once more to Hades’s side. Even in slumber he tossed and moaned. The abrasions and cuts he inflicted on himself in his fits oozed blood. Bruises spread over the bared flesh of his arms and face.
Persephone knew the recipe for several tinctures that would soothe these smaller hurts and speed their healing but, even if she could find the ingredients in the Underworld, she dared not leave Hades to make the attempt. She had left his side only once to release the horses in Elysium. When she returned to the palace it was to find Hades rampaging through it, screaming curses, trying to shatter himself against the stone walls, floors, and furniture. Since then, she didn’t dare absent herself for there was no predicting when a fit might take him. Closing him up in his chambers was the only way she had of mitigating the damage he did to himself in his maddened state.
Pressing her lips to his furrowed, sweat-dampened brow she murmured, “I know not how to heal you.”
Hades groaned and turned away from her touch. She lowered her head onto his chest too full of despair even to weep. Her eyelids grew heavy, slipped closed then flew open when she thought she heard someone calling her name. She sat up, listening closely, sudden hope siphoning away her misery and exhaustion. The call came again, unmistakable this time.
Persephone leapt from the bed, dashed to the door of Hades’s chambers then through it and down the hall, all the while shouting Hermes’s name. As the God turned the corner at the top of the step, Persephone nearly collided with him. Not bothering with apologies or explanations, she clutched his hand and ran back the way she came, dragging Hermes behind her. He made indignant protest, but she hardly heard and she didn’t ease her grip on him until they both fetched to a halt next to Hades’s bed.
“What ails him? What can be done to correct it? You must know. Tell me.”
Nose wrinkled and lips pursed, Hermes stepped back. “He’s foul.”
Persephone turned to Hermes and slapped him with all the force she could muster. “How can you be so unfeeling?”
Hermes grabbed Persephone’s wrist and yanked her to him. “You’ll answer for that. And as your lord is in no fit state to protect you, I know just how you shall answer.”
Persephone reached between Hermes’s legs with her free hand and grasped what dangled there. She squeezed and jerked upward. Hermes screamed. He let go of her wrist to slap ineffectually at her arm as he shrieked over and again.
“Enough, Kore. Any more and you’ll unman him completely. While that wouldn’t be a great loss, I don’t think your father would be best pleased to have his messenger maimed in such a way.”
The voice was one Persephone had never heard before, but something in it seemed familiar. Persephone released Hermes. He groaned and stumbled to the wall, where he leaned gasping. This gave Persephone an unobstructed view of the speaker. An older woman, bent nearly double, a shawl obscuring most of her face stood in the doorway.
Persephone took a step forward, tried to peer under the cloth. “Who?”
The older woman straightened, fully revealing herself. “Doso that was. Hekate that is. Greetings, my Kore. Oh, how I’ve missed you.”
Persephone flung herself at Hekate. The woman’s arms, with their customary wiry strength, closed around Persephone, enveloping her in lavender-scented wool.
After only a moment, however, Persephone pushed out of Hekate’s embrace. Taking the woman’s gnarled hand, she tugged her to Hades’s bedside. “You have more knowledge of sickness and healing than I. What can be done for him?”
Hekate surveyed Hades, her lined face sagging. “No salve or tincture or draught will cure what ails him. He’s worse even than I feared.”
“What do you mean? You knew of his illness before you came?”
“It’s why I bade Hermes bring me here.”
At this, Persephone recalled the pitiless messenger God. She glanced around. Hermes, his face still twisted with anger and pain, had moved to lean against the doorframe of Hades’s bedchamber.
Hekate made a shooing motion at him. “Go glut yourself with the food you brought for Persephone, Hermes. We have no further use for you just now.”
“You know I must—”
Hekate interrupted. “I know what you must do. I’ll call you when the time is right. Now go.”
With mutterings and a baleful glance or two over his shoulder, Hermes quit the room.
“How did you know of Hades’s illness?” Persephone asked the moment he was gone.
“I sought out Orpheus on his return to the Upper World. He told me of Hades’s collapse.”
“That man,” Persephone spat. “It was his visit that precipitated Hades’s ailment and brought him to this.”
“Nay, Persephone, the fault is not Orpheus’s. He was but a piece played by another’s hand, in a game much too large for him to comprehend. Though I’m sorry his visit caused you such pain. I thought only of freeing you when I sent him to your mother.”
Keeping her face averted from Hekate, Persephone said, “I don’t wish to speak of my mother.”
A sound like wind rustling dried leaves came from Hekate.
It took a moment for Persephone to realize the woman was laughing. “You find humor in that?”
“Only that your sentiment nearly echoes one your mother expressed to me some months ago about her mother. And as your mother before you, I fear we must speak of the one you desire not to.”
“I won’t speak of anything at all unless it is some way to ease my husband.”
“Husband? Ah then, it’s as Orpheus said. You’re here because you wish to be.” Tears welling in her eyes, Hekate put a palm to Persephone’s cheek. “That eases me, Kore. For I fear it was my maunderings that inspired Hades to remove you to his realm. I wouldn’t have spoken of you to him had I known.”
“Hush. Your error in speaking to him of me was my salvation.”
Hekate patted Persephone’s cheek. “Though it complicates my task a great deal, it gladdens me that you’ve found solace in one another.”
Persephone turned away from Hekate to touch Hades’s chest. “No solace now. Not until he’s healed.”
“Alas, Persephone, his healing lies not within my power, but your mother’s.”
Persephone gave Hekate a sharp look. “What has she to do with this?”
“To explain that to you was partially my purpose in coming here, but it may take some time.”
“I must bathe Hades and change his clothing. Can you tell me while I do?”
Hekate nodded.
“I’ll fetch the necessary supplies and return in a moment.”
“No need.” Hekate closed her eyes. Her brows drew down and her lips puffed out with effort. There was a soundless concussion of air and an ewer of water, a basin, a small pile of cloths, and a vial of oil appeared next to Persephone’s feet.
“I don’t usually waste my power on such trivialities. However, there is some urgency in what I came here to accomplish and even one lost moment is too many,” Hekate said.
Persephone couldn’t look away from the items on the floor. “You simply conjured them out of nothing?”
The same dry crackle of laughter emerged from Hekate. “None is that powerful, Kore. No, I only removed them from the place they were and brought them here.”
“I thank you.” Persephone stooped, filled the basin from the ewer, wetted one of the cloths and put it to use on Hades’s face.
Hekate reached for another cloth, dipped it in the water, and moved to Hades’s other side. “What did Hades tell you of his coming to the Underworld?”
Persephone paused in her washing, stroked her fingers over the arch of Hades’s brows, trying to soothe away the deep line between them. “Very little. Only that he was tumbled into the Styx by the shades on its bank and that he spent the nine years following that in unconsciousness.”
“I thought as much,” Hekate murmured, then, “Would it surprise you to know that after he lapsed into insensibility, I packed him about with fleece, poured warm broth down his throat, and watched over him in his slumber?”
Persephone looked up from wiping the crust of sweat off Hades’s neck. “Why were you in the Underworld?”
“I came here to wait while the new pantheon of Gods settled themselves. I wanted to see if Zeus would tolerate my worship or if he would wrest my followers from me and so take my power. As I had few worshippers, I was no threat to his supremacy and Zeus let me be. Once I was sure I wouldn’t be struck down, I made my way to Olympus and told Zeus of the young God slumbering on the banks of the River Styx. I believed Zeus would come collect him and take the God to his proper place. I was sure he didn’t belong in this dreary land. Indeed, to my eyes, he looked built for joy and youthful pursuits and pleasure.”
Hades was indeed built for pleasure. The thought caused a hot rush of blood to creep up Persephone’s neck and into her face. To divert Hekate’s attention from her discomfiture, Persephone asked, “I know Zeus didn’t collect him. Did he at least send another to look after his welfare?”
Hekate shook her head. “When it became clear Zeus meant to do nothing for his brother, I returned to the Underworld and continued caring for Hades. As the ninth year waned, he showed signs of rousing. I hastened to Olympus and told them of his return to consciousness. With me as a guide, Helios came to the Underworld to deliver to Hades his chariot and four steeds.”
Persephone began to tug Hades’s tunic up. Hekate moved to help her and together they removed the soiled garment.
Persephone dipped her cloth in the basin again then moved it over Hades’s chest. As the dark curling hair caught at her fingertips and on the base of her palm, the memory of the touches— needful and sweet, hungry and hesitant—they had shared opened an aching rent in her chest. She gripped the rag, breathed the pain down.
Resuming her task, her voice only a little tremulous, Persephone said, “Hades told me he didn’t realize he’d been unconscious for nine years until Helios told him it was so.”
Hekate reached into one of the pouches that hung from her belt, pulled out a small container, and opened it.
Persephone recognized it immediately from its sharp scent: woundwort compounded with lard.
Hekate dipped her finger inside, brought it out laden with the ointment and applied it to the lacerations on Hades’s face. “I thought as much. I hung back during their reunion, but I could hear Hades asking again and again if Helios were the only one of the Gods to journey to the Underworld to see how he fared in all that time.”
Hekate looked up from her work. “Say what you will of your mother, Persephone. She never deserted you in this Underworld the way Hades was forsaken by those who had most cause to love him.”
Persephone continued bathing Hades, wiping at his belly, but her lips thinned at the mention of her mother.
Hekate continued. “I expected Hades to return to Olympus with Helios, never again to show his face in this place. Instead, he immediately set out to gather enough wood with which to construct a raft; a difficult task indeed in this mostly barren land. After the raft was complete, he poled it across the river. I couldn’t imagine what he was about, for the shades there had bested him once already. He didn’t land on that shore though. He held the raft in a small eddy some way away and conversed with the shades. After a time, a contingent of them came forward bearing the remains of what appeared to be a young woman. Hades cried out and went to his knees at the sight. After he recovered himself somewhat, he moved the raft forward, collected the woman’s remains and took the group of shades who had brought her to him onto his raft. When he reached this shore again his deep grief at the young woman’s death was evident.”
Unable to contain her curiosity any longer, Persephone looked up from cleaning Hades’s thighs and blurted, “Who was she? What was she to him? And why, if her death saddened him so, didn’t he use his power to return her to life?”
“I believe she was an Okeanid nymph called Leuke. From stories I’ve overheard on Olympus it seems she and Hades formed an attachment during the war with the Titans and she came with him to this realm intending to help him rule here. I don’t know if it was the shades on Styx’s bank who killed her or if she, like Hades, was pushed into the river and its waters spelled her demise. It was apparent Hades felt her death keenly and blamed himself for it, but he was unable to return her to life because he can’t regenerate a shade within a body, only a body around a shade.”
Persephone put a hand to Hades’s cheek, and gazed down at his gaunt face. “He was so brusque with me when we first emerged from the cavern on Styx’s bank, I thought then he hated me and intended to do me some violence. I see now he was likely terrified I would share Leuke’s fate and that’s why he behaved as he did.”
“You couldn’t come to the same end as Leuke for you’re an Olympian. She was only a nymph, but I’m sure Hades wanted to spare you the terror of being attacked by the shades as well as the agony and unconsciousness that comes from drinking Styx’s water, and spare himself the guilt for subjecting you to those things.”
“What did he do with Leuke’s body? Did he return her to the Upper World?”
Hekate shook her head. “He placed her in his chariot and then spent days shuttling as many shades as had the toll across the river. It was only when he completed that task Hades harnessed his horses to his chariot and ventured deeper into his realm.
I followed along at a distance, fearful of what would happen to this strange young God when he encountered Cerberus though it took nearly the whole day for Cerberus to seek him out. I believe the beast had become accustomed to Hades’s scent in the nine years Hades lay unconscious and the creature didn’t realize he was up and about. Hades had time to travel to Elysium and bury Leuke there. If you’re curious to see her grave, it’s easily found. A white poplar grew from her body and marks the spot even today.
Persephone had seen that tree. Hades had told her it was farewell gift from a dear friend but there was so much more to the story, more he would likely never share with her because, like his time in his father’s stomach, it was an experience too painful to recall. At least now she knew a bit about one of the two women who had preceded her in Hades’s affections.
Persephone picked up one of Hades’s hands and dabbed at the blood on his swollen abraded knuckles as Hekate continued. “That tree also commemorates the spot of Hades’s first battle with Cerberus for that’s where the beast found him. It was a fearsome fight with much blood shed by both parties. Had it not been for the charioteer’s whip Helios gave Hades I don’t think he would have prevailed, but he did. And in doing so he truly became ruler of this realm.”
“What do you mean?” Persephone looked up from her work on Hades’s hand. .
“To bring Cerberus to heel is to take on the mantle of stewardship for this land.”
“It is?” Persephone asked, paused then said, “After Cerberus was subdued by Orpheus’s song, Hades looked as though a yoke had been removed from his neck.” She paused again. “And so it had. But why did he take it back? Why did he battle Cerberus once more?” She drew in a sharp breath. “Hades deflected my blow to Cerberus’s head. But for that I …” She motioned at Hekate. “Go on, please.”
Hekate lifted Hades’s other hand, tutting at its bruised and battered state. As she treated it with the woundwort she continued, “I felt great pity for Hades. I couldn’t imagine what it would be to be chained to this realm, and to take on the agonies of its various inhabitants.”
Persephone let out a small gasp. “Hades feels that which his subjects feel?”
“He does. Chaos made it so to inspire any who rule here to be conscientious in their stewardship.” She added in a tart voice, “It’s a pity Zeus didn’t draw the black stone. Time ruling a realm such as this might somewhat temper his pleasure-seeking ways.”
Persephone hardly heard Hekate for she was recalling Hades’s words when he saw the increase of shades on Styx’s banks, and the agony on his face as Nadira and Eurydice were ravaged by Cerberus. “I should have realized.”
Hekate gently lowered Hades’s hand, patted it then met Persephone’s eyes. “And so we are at the crux of the matter, Kore. This ailment your husband suffers from is no more and no less than the combined agonies of all the shades on Styx’s bank.”
Persephone shook her head. “I think you’re mistaken, Hekate. There have been shades on Styx’s bank since I first arrived here. It’s only over the course of …” Persephone cast her mind back. The first signs of Hades’s weakness had manifested after he restored Nadira.
She continued. “He’s been sickening for some time, but Hades told me when he first arrived here all the souls of all the world’s dead clustered on Styx’s bank. He bore up under their distress then. Surely those that are there now don’t outnumber that quantity.”
“Hades shuttled a large portion of their number across Styx prior to besting Cerberus. Most of the shades that he was unable to ferry over then had been there for many years and their distress had been tempered by time. It wasn’t so immediate as the despair and confusion of those that arrive there daily now, though this isn’t the first time Hades has been affected so. I’ve seen it happen in times of plague or war, whenever there’s an abrupt and sizeable increase in those arriving in the Underworld. I will say, however, I’ve never seen him so laid so low as this.”
“He attempted to restore two shades to their mortal form only a matter of days apart. I believe that weakened him a great deal.”
“I know he gave Eurydice her life, but who was the other?” Hekate asked.
“This isn’t a time to answer that question, but I will one day when there are less pressing matters at hand.” Persephone stroked the hair back from Hades’s brow. “What I must know now, is can we sever his tie to this realm?”
“We can, but Hades wouldn’t thank us for that.”
Persephone looked up. “Not thank us for saving him from an eternity of this agony?”
“May I return to my tale?”
Persephone cut her hand across the air. “No, I have no wish to hear more of it. I know now what must be done to spare him. I only need the method by which it can be accomplished.”
“Don’t act in haste in this, Kore.”
“In what other way can I act? You see his pain. You said yourself there isn’t much time.”
“There are things you must understand and only in listening to me can you hope to gain that understanding. There is time, at least, for that.” Hekate reached over Hades’s body and touched Persephone’s cheek. “Trust me. Please.”