A Touch of Malice (Hades & Persephone #3)(50)

So many children came to the Underworld without their parents only to be adopted by other souls and reunited with their loved one’s years later. If these were the circumstances these two would suffer, she was glad they were together.

“Would you like to see some magic?” she asked.

The girl nodded.

Persephone hoped this worked as she scooped up a handful of the black dirt at her feet. She envisioned a white anemone—and watched as it effortlessly materialized in her palm. She blew out a breath, thankful, and Lola’s face lit up as Persephone threaded the flower into her hair.

“You are very brave,” she said. “Will you be brave for your father, too?”

The girl nodded, and Persephone straightened, taking a step back. Shortly after, more souls joined them, guided to the Underworld by Hermes and reaped by Thanatos. Before their work was finished, the small space was crowded with one-hundred and thirty people and one dog, whose owner had also made it into the afterlife. Persephone greeted many of them, and Hades followed suit. There were children and teens, young adults and older ones. Some were fearful and others were angry, only a few were unafraid.

At some point, Hades fingers slipped between hers and he gestured toward the gates, which were opening soundlessly to reveal the elm beyond in its fullness—beautiful and ancient and glowing.

“Welcome to the Underworld,” he said.

Together, they led the souls through the gates, and beneath the far-reaching limbs of the elm. As they walked, thousands of tiny orbs of light appeared and glowed, rising above their heads to settle on the leaves of the tree. The souls watched in wonder, not horror, not realizing that those small balls of light were the hopes and dreams they’d formed over a lifetime. Persephone felt immense sadness, watching it happen, but Hades squeezed her hand.

“Think of it as a release,” he said. “They will no longer be burdened with regret.”

She took some comfort in that and as they left the shelter of the tree, they came to a lush strip of greenery and a pier that stretched over the black water of the Styx. The bank of the River of Woe was covered in white narcissus blooms. Returning from the other side, was Charon dressed in white robes which ignited like a torch against the muted gloom of the Underworld. His powerful arms rowed the boat to port, and he grinned.

“Welcome, welcome!” he said. “Come, let’s get you all home.”

Persephone had never seen this process before, but she watched as Charon chose who was allowed into his boat. It was not even full when he decided that was enough.

“No more,” he said. “I will return.”

As he rowed away, Persephone looked to Hades. “Why did he not take more?”

“Remember when I said the souls made this journey to accept death?”

She nodded.

“Charon will not take them until they have.”

Persephone’s eyes widened. “What if they don’t?”

“Most do,” he said.

“And?” Persephone prodded. “What about the rest?”

“It is a case-by-case basis,” he answered. “Some are allowed to see how the souls live in Asphodel. If that does not encourage them to adjust, they are sent to Elysium. Some must drink from the Lethe.”

“And how often does that happen?”

“It is rare,” he said. “But inevitably, in times like these, there is always someone who struggles.”

She could imagine. None of these people woke up and expected to die today.

Charon returned a few more times and by the end of it, the only two left were the man with the five-year-old daughter. Charon tried to take her, but the father had protested vehemently, and Persephone did not blame him.

“We go together or not at all!”

Persephone looked from Charon to Hades and then to the man who held his daughter in his arms.

She clung to him, too—as much as she had accepted her end, she did not want to leave her father, either.

Persephone left Hades’ side and approached the man.

“What are you afraid of?” she asked.

“I left my wife and son behind,” he said.

She considered this news—but she knew that several of the souls who had already passed over the Styx had left loved one’s behind. She also knew that there would be more like him. She could not make a promise to him she could not keep for everyone.

So instead, she asked, “And do you not trust, after all that you have seen here, that you will see them again?”

“But—”

“Your wife will have comfort,” she said. “Because you are here with Lola and she will wait to be reunited with you both here in the Underworld. In Asphodel. Do you not wish to make a space for them? To welcome them when they come?”

The man looked at Lola and hugged her to him, crying for a long time. They let him, and all the while, Persephone felt the heaviness of this task. She could not imagine how Thanatos, Charon, and The Judges managed this every day.

After a while, the man composed himself and took a breath.

“Okay. I am ready.”

Persephone turned to Charon who smiled. “Then welcome to the Underworld,” he said and helped the two onto the boat.

Hades and Persephone joined them.

The ride was quiet, the souls looked out over the water, their expressions somber. Hades’ hold on Persephone’s hand tightened, and she knew it was because he recognized the burden she carried—it was sadness and grief and despair—but her spirits were soon lifted when she spotted a group of souls from Asphodel on the opposite shore waiting to greet them.