Persephone glanced away, a bitter taste filling her mouth. No, those burdens were meant to be held by her, as Hades’ consort. Her departure placed them back on Hades’ shoulders.

“Come,” Hades said, reaching for her. “As you say, we have but one night. Let us not speak of prosaic things.”

Persephone leaned over, kissing her. She might not be the queen Hades deserved, but she could be here, in this moment, and lend her all the comfort she could muster.

It wasn’t enough, but she gave it freely. Hades clutched her too tightly, after they’d both been sated, her head nestled against Persephone’s neck and their legs intertwined, her arms like a vise. Persephone laced her fingers with Hades’ and kissed the salt from her cheeks.

22

THE ASCENT

In the morning, Hades accompanied them as far as the river Styx. She was serene of face and wore her elegance as armor, nothing like the raw and tender goddess who’d held onto Persephone so tightly the night before. Which one was more true, the ruler or the lover? She’d had more than a year to find out, and yet she still wasn’t sure.

Behind them, Hermes waited alongside Charon and his boat. Persephone turned her back on them to say her last farewells.

“Send Zeus my regards,” Hades said.

“I will.” Persephone leaned in and placed a chaste kiss upon Hades’ cheek.

As she turned to go, Hades caught her wrist. “Do not forget me,” Hades said, her voice low.

“Never.”

Hermes cleared his throat.

Hades released her and spoke to Hermes. “Remember what I asked of you.”

“All will be well,” Hermes said.

Persephone raised her skirts to climb into Charon’s boat. She felt the heat of Hades’ gaze upon her, but she didn’t turn back as Charon unmoored the boat and pushed them away from the riverbank. She sat perfectly still, clutching her possessions to her chest, until they were almost out of sight.

She waited until she could bear it no longer, then she looked back. There was no one at the dock, not even a wandering shade.

Was that tightness in her chest relief, or disappointment?

“Demeter will be overjoyed to see you,” Hermes said.

“I have missed her,” Persephone said carefully. “I hope Father will not be too displeased at having to intervene.”

“She will set things to rights once you are safely above ground.”

The bargain seemed unbalanced, her life in exchange for millions of humans. How could she be worth so much pain?

They reached the other side of the river, and Charon brought the boat to a stop. Hermes hopped out and offered his hand.

Persephone took it, climbing out with her belongings. “Thank you,” she said over her shoulder to Charon, but the ferryman was already drifting away.

“How are you with heights?” Hermes asked. “It will be faster if I carry you the rest of the way.”

“I’ll close my eyes.”