A Touch of Darkness (Hades x Persephone #1)(92)

She opened her eyes to find one of Hades three dogs staring at her.

She laughed and sat up, petting Cerberus on the head. His tongue rolled out of his mouth and she found that what she’d tripped over had been his red ball.

“Where are your brothers?” she asked, scratching behind his ear.

The dog responded by licking her face. Persephone pushed the dog away and got to her feet, scooping up the ball.

“You want this?”

Cerberus sat back on his haunches, but could barely stay still.

“Fetch!” Persephone said, throwing the ball.

The hound took off, and she watched him for a few moments before continuing toward the base of the mountain.

The closer she got, the ground beneath her feet became uneven, rocky, and bare. A short time later, Cerberus joined her again, ball in his mouth. He didn’t drop it at her feet, but looked ahead at the mountains.

“Can you lead me to the Well of Reincarnation?” Persephone asked.

The dog looked at her and then took off.

She followed—up a steep incline and into the heart of the mountains. It was one thing to see these landforms from a distance, another to walk among them and beneath the halo of black, swirling clouds. Lightening flashed and thunder shook the earth. She continued to follow Cerberus, fearful of losing sight of the dog or worse, that he would be hurt.

“Cerberus!” She called as he disappeared around another turn in the maze.

Persephone wiped the back of her hand over her forehead. It was slick with sweat. It was warm in the mountains, and growing hotter.

Rounding the corner, she hesitated, noticing a small stream at her feet—but this stream was fire. Unease trickled down her spine. She heard Cerberus barking ahead, and jumped over the stream of fire only to find the dog at the edge of a cliff where a river of raging flame roiled below. Its heat was almost unbearable, and Persephone suddenly realized where she’d wandered.

Tartarus.

This was the River Phlegethon.

“Cerberus, find a way out!” she commanded.

The dog barked as if accepting her direction and raced toward a set of stairs carved into the mountains. They were sleek and steep and disappeared into the folds above.

But they would take her higher into the mountains.

“Cerberus!”

The dog continued on, and so she chased after him.

The steps led to an open cavern. Lanterns lined the passage, but barely illuminated her feet. The tunnel provided an escape from the heat of the Phlegethon. Perhaps Cerberus was leading her to the Well of Reincarnation as she had requested.

Just as she had that thought, she came to the end of the cavern, which led a grotto. It was beautiful. The space was full of lush vegetation and trees heavy with golden fruit. The pool at her feet held water that glittered like stars in an inky sky.

This must be the Well of Reincarnation, she thought.

At the pool’s center, there was a stone pillar. A gold goblet sat at the top. Persephone wasted no time as she waded through the water to reach the cup, but with the movement of water, there came a voice.

“Help,” it rasped. “Water.”

She froze and looked around but saw nothing.

“H-hello?” She called to the dark.

“The pillar,” the voice said.

Persephone’s heart raced as she came around the post to find a man chained to the other side of the column. He was thin—literally skin stretched over bones. His hair and beard were long, white, and matted. The manacles around his wrists were just short enough to prevent him from reaching the cup at the top of the pillar—or the low hanging fruit just within reach.

She inhaled sharply at the sight of him, and when the man looked at her, his pupils appeared to be swimming in blood.

“Help,” he said again. “Water.”

“Oh my gods.”

Persephone climbed the pillar for the goblet, filled it with water from the pool and helped the man drink.

“Careful,” she warned the faster he gulped. “You will become ill.”

She pulled the goblet away and the man took a few breaths, chest heaving.

“Thank you,” he said.

“Who are you?” she asked, studying his face.

“My name,” he took a breath. “Is Tantalus.”

“And how long have you been here?”

“I do not remember.” Every word he spoke was slow and seemed to take all his energy. “I was cursed to be eternally deprived of nourishment.”

She wondered what he had done to be assigned such a punishment.

“I have begged daily for an audience with the lord of this realm so that I might find peace in Asphodel, but he will not hear my pleas. I have learned from my time here. I am not the same man I was all those long years ago. I swear it.”

She considered this, and despite what she’d learned about Hades today, she believed in the god’s powers. Hades knew the soul. If he felt this man had changed, he would grant him his wish to reside in Asphodel.

Persephone took a step away from the Tantalus, and she saw his eyes change. There it is, she realized, the darkness that Hades saw.

“You do not believe me,” he said, suddenly able to speak without pause.

“I’m afraid I do not know enough either way,” Persephone said, trying to remain as neutral as possible. She had the unsettling feeling that this man’s rage was to be feared. At her words, the strange, angry glint that had clouded his eyes disappeared, and he nodded.