Equinox

Chapter 6

The speaker is a surprisingly short, almost waif-like woman dressed in robes the color of pine forests and topsoil. She has freckles and doesn't seem capable of issuing the loud, booming threat that rattled the walls of Hades' stone palace — she looks like she should be picking wildflowers somewhere. My eyes continue to drift downwards, stopping at her hands, which are wrapped around a bow. It's aimed at the floor but an arrow is already poised on the drawstring, ready to carry out her threat.

Hades is already on his feet, with his arms folded over his chest. “Hello, Artemis.”

Her watchful eyes, a hawkish amber, flick between us like a cat trying to decide whether a pounce is worth the risk or not. Ignoring him, she turns towards me and says, “You must be April.”

I nod slowly.

Artemis's gaze lingers on me for a few seconds more and then, with a single graceful move, she turns her head, drinking in the rest of the large, marble room. The long curtains are drawn, revealing the prettier of the two rivers outside his palace walls. The water glows with a light of its own, painting everything in a surreal, bluish cast — as if we're all under the ocean.

She lowers the weapon to her side. “This place hasn't changed much.”

“If you don't like it, you can leave,” Hades says serenely, gazing at her with ruby eyes only slightly less threatening than the crossbow.

“Sorry, but it isn't going to be that simple.” Artemis pauses uncertainly, almost as if she's waiting for him to bite back with another retort, but his lips are frozen into that vague half-smile. Neither of them appears willing to speak first. Both of them are standing so still — I almost want to reach out and touch them, just to get a reaction, to make sure they're still alive.

Hades thaws first. He leans back against the marble wall, folding his arms over his chest with emphasized slowness. “What do you want?”

“Didn't Hermes already tell you?”

“He claims he's not taking sides. I'd rather hear it from you.”

Artemis tucks her bow over her shoulder, leaving her hands free. Without her weapon in hand, she seems edgier, almost anxious. “I want the girl.”

“I know.”

“Then why ask?”

“Because I want to know why.” His laughter bears the same dangerous quality as shattering ice. “Is it because I do, Artemis?”

She doesn't answer right away. “Demeter trusts me. She doesn't trust you.”

I turn towards Hades. For a brief instant I could swear that I see pain flash across his features, but the moment passes and I'm not sure whether I imagined it or not. His eyes lose their fire and become an opaque black and he smiles. “You don't have a reason, in other words.”

“I am one of the patron goddesses of virgins,” Artemis says, drawing herself up, “I'm not about to lose one to you. Once innocence was something to be prized and cherished — now, it's shameful.”

“You still haven't answered my question,” he says.

Artemis turns towards me and I realize, with horror, that I'm still naked from the waist up. With one hand firmly placed over my chest, I grab for my shirt. The goddess stops me by putting a hand on my shoulder and saying, “No, April.” With her other hand she reaches into the folds of her robes, producing a square of white fabric. “Put this on, instead.”

It turns out to be a toga with a Greek key pattern stitched around the edges in gold thread. I pull it over my head as quickly as I can, angling my body away from them. The straps are connected to the body of the dress by heavy metal — possibly gold — clasps, leaving my shoulders bare. The fabric in the front is gathered into little bunches so it's not obvious that I'm not wearing a bra.

I feel like I'm wearing a Halloween costume. Looking down and seeing my dirty Vans and tattered jeans doesn't detract from that image. “Take off those pants,” she says coolly, folding her arms.

I have to kick off my shoes, first. I can feel both of their eyes on me as I yank off the remnants of a perfectly good pair of jeans. Rest in pieces. I suddenly have the strangest urge to laugh.

“Turn around,” Artemis orders. Her eyes light up, like amber caught in sunlight. “You look beautiful.”

Hades is staring at me with an unreadable expression. His eyes sink to my feet, slowly climbing back towards my face with the leisure of someone who has forever. “I agree.”

“This dress was woven by Minerva — and spelled by me,” Artemis tells him, “You won't be able to remove it, no matter how hard you try.”

“Did Zeus agree to this?” Some of the triumph slips from her expression. “No? Ah. I didn't think so.”

“He wouldn't disagree, either,” she argues hotly.

A slow smile spreads across his face.

“Why is that funny, Hades?”

“Only that, when it comes to women, your father is far more likely to see my side.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Where was he when Hera made things so difficult for your mother? He has so many wives, he can barely keep track of them all — let alone protect them. Leto was in labor for days with Apollo and he cast a blind eye to her suffering. And poor Io — ” He trails off.

Her yellow eyes swing up to his face. “And you think you can do better? Is that it?”

“Yes, I do.”

Artemis looks taken aback for an instant, and then a sneer settles on her pretty face. “But it's your fault Persephone killed herself. To the best of my knowledge, none of Zeus's wives have ever committed suicide. At least, not because of him.”

From the look on his face, it probably would have been kinder to shoot him with one of the arrows.

I start forward, although I'm not sure why. He stops me with one upraised hand. “Leave.”

At first I think he might be crying — which is odd, because those gemstone eyes seem incapable of producing tears — but then he turns in my direction and I see the pure, unbridled rage in his face. It makes my heart quiver in my chest like a cornered mouse.

“Leave,” he repeats.

I'm only too happy to oblige.

I find refuge in a surprising place — a garden.

There is a rather large fountain in the center of a courtyard, surrounded by a bench that connects all four sides. I search for a possible escape route, but the only exit is back the way I came. The air is fragrant with the blossoms. How can they grow without sunlight? I step towards a rose bush, stroking the velvety petals. Some of the flowers look like they are in various stages of death — withering, browning, and fading. Bare, leafless branches jut from the shrubs like skeletons.

I lie against the stone bench. At first, the cold is almost unbearable. Then I get used to it.

I stare at the stalactites above me, remembering that first instant in the cave when those same structures were tumbling to the ground and melting before my very eyes. I'd been so certain that I was going to die. Hades isn't a psychopath, though — perverted and eccentric as hell, but not a killer.

At least, I hope not.

The heady scent of the flowers makes me sleepy. I close my eyes, feeling myself starting to doze off. My arms drift downwards, brushing the stone tiles. For the first time, I feel completely at peace. Faint laughter echoes through my mind, which I pay no attention to. It isn't real. But the low, seductive voice that whispers, “I thought I'd find you in here,” is definitely a lot harder to ignore.

I nearly roll off the bench. Hades laughs, reaching out with one of his hands to stable me. From my vantage point, his smile looks like a frown. “Don't get up on my account.”

I watch him guardedly, but all he does is sit down on the bench and close his eyes. His hands grasp the stone on either side of him, but his posture is absolutely peaceful. He looks like a statue. I search for any trace of the anger from before but it, like the pain, has vanished somewhere beneath the ice that seems to surround him like a second skin.

“This place is pretty.”

“I gave her this garden,” Hades says very quietly, “A long, long time ago.”

He still has not opened his eyes. I wonder whether his eyes are orange or black. “Persephone?”

He nods again, without speaking. A few petals fall around us like rain.

“Did she really... kill herself?”

“She took a lover, a naiad, that lived in the Acheron river — the river of sorrow. I didn't put a stop to it, at first, because he made her happy, but then he insulted me. I killed him and she transformed his body into a water lily.” He pauses. “A few years later she took her own life.”

“I – I'm sorry.”

“Demeter was so filled with despair that she nearly destroyed all life on earth. The creatures sought refuge in the oceans, with Poseidon, until Zeus intervened and combined the powers of several of the other gods to stable the seasons.” Hades smiles briefly. “I believe this is referred to as the Ice Age.”

“That's not the way we learned it in Geography one-oh-one,” I mutter.

“Who has been around longer — me, or your professor?”

“That's a tough call.”

Hades surprises me by laughing — loud, obnoxious laughter like that one day in the college's parking lot. He reaches out to cup my cheek. “She used to make me laugh like that, too. I thought I'd lost her forever, you know, until I found her in you.”

“What?”

“You're descended from her.” His fingers move to my lips. “You even have her smile.”

I knock his hand away. “I'm not even Greek!”

Hades' hand closes around my wrist. “Are you always this contrary?”

I shake my head. Chuckling, he presses my hand against his chest, dragging it along his ivory skin in slow, circular movements. “Why are you so young?” I ask, tearing my eyes away from my fingers.

His' eyes reopen at half-mast and he smiles lazily. “I am ageless.”

“You look nineteen.”

“Age is a human concept. If you don't die, you don't age. I can look however I want.”

“How do you normally look?”

Hades' lips purse. “Thirty-two.” He brings my hand to his mouth, lightly kissing my fingertips. I wince, trying to imagine him over a decade older. A scowl mars his perfect face, adding to the illusion. “This isn't going to be enough. Come here.”

I blink. “...Enough for what? You can't — ”

One sharp tug is all it takes to get me on top of him. He locks his arms around me. “Yes, I can.” Hades pauses, as if for breath. “Stay very, very still, Aperire.”

Sharp pain shoots through my scalp when I shake my head. My hair is pinned against between our bodies. I lift myself up to free it and a violent shudder tears through him. I freeze uncertainly. “Hades?”

No response.

I glance over my shoulder. His eyes are closed and I can see the strain in his face. Jesus, what did I do? “I'm sorry!” I say, quickly moving to slide off of him. The grip around my waist tightens to the threshold of pain.

“April.”

“I'm sorry! I swear, I didn't mean to hurt — ”

“No. Stop moving.”

“But I – I'm hurting you... aren't I?”

His laugh is slightly breathless. “Not exactly.”

“But you're — ” I clap my hands over my mouth. Oh my god. This is turning him on?

Hades laughs softly into my hair. “I did warn you to stay still.”

“That wasn't a warning,” I snap, prying at his cold fingers, “And you're sick. Let go of me.”

“No.” With one simple movement that takes a fraction of a second, he flips me over so that we're lying face-to-face. He's smiling, but it shows too many teeth. “This is impiety, April. Come here and pay proper respect to the gods. E la.”

And then his mouth is on mine — savage, passionate, but cold. One hand slips through my tangled hair, smoothing the blondish strands back from my face. It's too easy to just give in — he knows what he's doing and the feeling isn't entirely unpleasant — but the issue forms a rift in my mind.

The primal part of my brain is screaming for me to run. It senses the predator in him — knows that he's stronger, faster, and infinitely more powerful than I am capable of becoming. When he kisses my throat, my pulse quickens at the vulnerability of that position and my hands tighten around the fabric of his toga, ready to push him away. But I can't slip out of his grip, and we stay like that for a long time; his face nestled against my shoulder, his teeth at my neck.

Are you afraid?

“Yes.” The answer comes before I can swallow it down.

I think I feel him smile. Why?

“Because you can hurt me... and I don't think I'd be able to stop you, if you did.”

No, you wouldn't. He holds me up, staring deeply into my eyes. I feel truly weightless in his arms. That panicky feeling grows and I feel myself start to shake. “But I wouldn't do that to you.”

“The earthquake — ”

“Child's play. Poseidon is the craftsman of truly horrendous natural disasters.”

“What if you got angry?”

He closes his eyes, lowering me back against his chest. “Enough. I am not a vengeful god. Do you understand?”

I nod blearily.

“It's very late in Earth hours.” He pauses. “You may sleep if you wish.”

“Here?”

“I doubt you would be able to make it to your room and besides; this is pleasant.”

Pleasant for who? “That's not a good idea,” I say quickly.

“You need to rest.”

I cautiously lean against his chest. It is more comfortable than I thought it would be. A shiver goes through him. I glance up with half-closed eyes. His face is carefully neutral. “You're just messing with me now,” I say sleepily. “Nobody's that sensitive.”

He chuckles and threads his fingers through my hair. Go to sleep.

I wake up on the bench alone, covered in petals from the flowering trees.

A sharp, knocking sound makes me sit up. Hades is standing in the entryway, dressed in severe black robes that cover his chest and both arms. He smiles faintly. “Did I wake you?”

I get to my feet, sending the petals cascading to the ground. “No. But can't you — ”

“I'm leaving for Olympus. I can't do anything for you.” From the look on his face, the idea of going to Olympus has about as much appeal as a human getting called in for jury duty.

He's leaving? I feel myself brighten at the prospect. “When?”

It's the wrong thing to ask. His dark eyebrows knit together. “Soon. I've summoned Hermes to watch you since he isn't “taking sides” in this. I suggest that you don't try to run from him.”

My self-satisfied smirk snags and then disappears altogether. So much for Plan B...

Hades watches these changes with a wry smile. “Did you really think it would be that simple?”

I choose not to reply.

He takes me by the arm, leading me through an archway that connects to an unfamiliar room. There is a large table in the center set for ten, surrounded by a few chairs crafted from a dark wood. A blue-robed boy is sitting in one of the chairs with his sandaled feet propped up against the table.

“Hermes!” Hades barks.

The boy jumps, quickly tossing out a flippant, “Sorry, sorry.” His gaze slips from the dark-haired god to me, and his face brightens considerably in recognition. “Milady!”

“You're to keep an eye on her.”

Hermes nods blithely.

“April — come here.” I take a teeny, tiny baby step in his general direction. “Closer.” The process repeats until he loses patience and closes the distance himself. He isn't much taller than me, topping my own height by mere inches, and it's all too easy for him to simply dip his head and kiss me. Which he does. His hand slips down the exposed skin of my back, and he groans into my mouth. The skin on my arms prickles at the sound. This is very... awkward. I'm not sure whether to stay put or pull away.

“Get a room, you two,” Hermes says good-naturedly, swiping a chicken leg from the table.

Obnoxious chewing noises fill the silence.

“Do you mind?” Hades asks coldly.

“Not at all.”

Seconds later, I hear the god of the underworld's voice inside my head, like a shimmery echo. If Zeus rules in my favor, you will be mine.

“What about my mom?”

I'll settle the details when — and if — the time comes. His tone isn't very reassuring. You must understand, Aperire. I can't wait for you.

“You mean se — ”

He claps his hand over my mouth. I follow his gaze towards Hermes, who has moved on to noisily crunching an apple while watching us with mild amusement. Yes.

“This is too sudden!” I explode, forgetting that Hermes is sitting twelve feet away. When I do finally remember, I realize that I don't really care all that much. “I barely even know you — and I'm not even sure I want to. Besides,” I add, hammering in the final nail, “Zeus hasn't even decided yet.”

Hades stiffens at that and a dark look comes into his eyes.

If he doesn't, do you honestly think that I will forget about you?

I hadn't thought of that. “Can't I... have some time to think about it?”

I've waited over ten thousand years. You dare ask for more time?

“I even don't know you,” I repeat, taking a step backwards. “I only learned your name today.”

You make me burn like the Phlegethon. His fingers dig into my skin. I want you. And I will have you.

I shake my head, slowly mouthing the word, “no.”

I will NOT be spurned, April!

The force of his voice sends me reeling back. Something catches me. Hermes.

“Humans are breakable,” Hermes chides, carefully setting me on the floor. “You can't throw them around like rag dolls.” His tone is light, but there is an edge to it.

I stare up at Hades. But before I can say — or do — anything else, he's already stalking towards the door. The room shakes violently as he stalks out, sending us both crashing to the floor.

Another earthquake.

“It's not you,” Hermes says sagely, getting back in his chair. “It's him.”

I plop down in one of the chairs without answering and grab a hunk of bread. I can tear into it as savagely as I want without betraying my emotions. Crumbs of bread go flying. Hermes watches me for a few minutes and then goes back to his nearly-finished apple. “You could stick a lump of coal up his ass and in two weeks it would be a diamond,” he adds vindictively, tossing the apple core on the floor.

I smile, in spite of myself. He's just so... adorable.

“So,” he says, licking the sticky apple juice of his fingers, “What should we do to pass the time?”

“Got any sevens?”

He stares down at the cards in amazement. “Is this really what humans do to pass the time?”

“Only when they're really, really bored.”

Hermes drops his cards on the floor — where I see that he's been lying for the past few rounds or so. I'd asked for an eight and he'd had two all along, which he hadn't even bothered pairing. I sigh and gather up the deck since he's already vanished. It was nice of him to pick them up, even though he'd only done it after making me promise not to tell Hades that he'd left me alone.

A sudden flash of light illuminates the dark room. Hermes is at the window in a flash, pressing his face against the glass panels. The light is followed by a rumble that comes from deep inside the earth, far more formidable than the 'quakes caused by Hades' mood swings. “Thunder?” I wonder aloud.

“There is no thunder in the underworld.” His voice holds a touch of alarm. “Unless...” I join him at the window, just in time to see another bolt of light crash down against the rock. Tendrils of electricity rise up to the ceiling of the cave. A hot, metallic smell fills the air. “Zeus,” Hermes finishes grimly.

Before, where there was only stone, is an immense structure made of rock and glimmering with veins of lighting that form a natural electric fence. The current in the air is so strong that it seems to waver, like ripples on the surface of water. “What is that?” I ask Hermes, who is staring out the window in wide-eyed wonder.

“I'm not sure.” He turns away from the window to face me. “I've never seen anything like it.”

“It bet it's evil,” I say flatly. Hermes rolls his eyes, saying, “Humans!” but doesn't contradict me, either.

A dry, humorless laugh sounds from behind us. “That is the keystone of your destiny.”