Persephone's Choice: The Darkness & the Light | A novel of Ancient Greece

Chapter Two: The Curse

Hades stood impassive as Zeus raged at him.

His blue eyes were like ice as he stared at the King of the Gods, throwing an almighty temper tantrum. Their relationship was usually one of mutual respect and understanding, if a little indifferent. Hades had one realm to rule, and Zeus had another. They rarely had much to do with each other since they had won the world for themselves in the Titanomachy.

But now, Zeus broke a storm over Hades' head.

"You had no right to take her away. No right!" he raved. "That girl had potentially cosmos-shattering information that threatened our entire existence."

"She was exhausted," Hades shrugged. "She couldn't have told you more if she'd wanted to. That prophecy wrung all the power out of her."

"What if there's more she didn't tell us?" demanded Poseidon, his eyes swirling like the ocean currents. "Will you take responsibility if the entire Pantheon is brought down?"

"If the Pantheon is brought down, we won't be around for you to blame me, Poseidon," said Hades, drily. "She told us plenty. We have more than enough information about the child's future to protect her, and ourselves."

Hera started, "Protect who? We need to lock the girl up, destroy her. She could threaten us all if we allow her to come to maturity."

"That's my daughter you're talking about, wife," growled Zeus. "Mind your tongue."

"But she's right!" Aphrodite broke in. "Aisa was very clear – the girl's existence is a danger to us all. Your lust might finally put an end to us, Zeus!"

"I will not harm the child," said Zeus, firmly. "And you, Aphrodite, would do well not to criticise anyone for their destructive lust." He gave her a pointed look. "The girl is my blood, and she will receive my protection, as you all do."

After several more minutes of pointless bickering and recriminations, minutes that felt like hours to Hades, impatiently watching them argue around in circles, Zeus dismissed them all. "There's nothing more to be done for it now, but watch yourself, Hades. You deliberately went against me, interfered in matters in my realm. I'll let it go this time, but you owe me." His green eyes darkened dangerously, and the room seemed to crackle with latent lightning.

Hades, standing every inch as tall as Zeus, gave an elegant shrug of his shoulder. His blue-black hair fell untidily into his eyes, and he resisted the urge to push it back. "As you say, brother. Next time you need a favour, I'll try to accommodate."

"You'll damn well do more than try," snarled Zeus. "Everyone, get to bed. We'll call a council in the morning to discuss the matter. Hades, you'd better stay the night."

Hades nodded tightly before striding away towards the rooms reserved for him in the Palace of Olympus. He hated this place, avoiding it when he could. His own realm had been shaped by his hand over the centuries into a peaceful, pleasant place full of beauty and souls who looked to him for wisdom and justice. Here, justice was whimsical, based on whatever took the gods' fancy. Oh, it was beautiful enough, in its way, but the petty grievances and trivial complaints that plagued it made it much less appealing. Hades didn't belong here, and he knew it. The affairs of gods and mortals held no interest for him until they entered his realm for their final judgement.

Invariably, when the gods of Olympus interfered in the lives of the mortals they were supposed to be safeguarding, it was Hades who was left to piece together the broken remains of their souls. He had been forced to condemn souls to an eternity of torture in Tartarus for crimes the gods had compelled them to commit; he had had to wash souls clean of their former identities in the river Lethe to force them to forget the horrors they had endured at the hands of the immortals; he had granted the paradise of Elysium to the undeserving because their patron god had demanded it of him.