She was almost at the mouth of the cave when the horses drew level with her. They soon surpassed her, and from inside the chariot, Hades reached over and snatched Persephone from the ground.

“Stop!” Persephone screamed. “Let me go!”

The horses turned sharply, and the chariot careened on one wheel, almost toppling over. Persephone slammed into the side of the chariot, and Hades fell on top of her.

She caught a tiny glimpse of the night sky as the chariot completed its turn. For all she knew, that would be the last time she saw the constellations of Cassiopeia and Cepheus, Pegasus and Deltoton.

She pushed weakly at Hades. “Stop. Stop—make them stop.”

The chariot found its balance, but the horses did not stop or even slow. They plunged into the rift, cold air wafting over Persephone’s skin as though they were passing through a cloud of mist. Pressure built in her ears until they popped with a ringing sensation, and then she found she could not stand, or scream, or even think.

Hades caught her as she collapsed, and the darkness swallowed them both.

4

IT WILL PASS

Persephone woke to the sound of water sloshing, the gentle, rhythmic noise so unlike the call of the ocean. She blinked, staring up at a dark and starless void.

Something hard dug into her back, and her fingers tingled, as though she had been trapped in one position for far too long.

She was on a boat, she guessed, from the sounds and the way she felt gently rocked. She shivered uncontrollably, and it took her a few dull moments to realize why.

The sky she saw was not her sky. It was far too empty, devoid even of clouds. Where were the stars, the moon? Instead of Nyx’s veils there was a strange kind of texture to the expanse above her—it seemed rough, like hewn rock. This cavernous sky gleamed faintly from within as though moonlight were cast upon it, emitting an eerie kind of twilight glow.

“Let me help you.”

Hands at her back coaxed her into a sitting position. She grabbed the side of the boat and clung to it for support, splinters cutting into her palms.

She was on a boat. With Hades. She looked to the prow, where a robed figure drove a pole into the riverbed below, propelling them along. Only his back was visible, illuminated by a lantern. He was a thin, tall shape swathed in threadbare dark linen, but somehow she could bring his name to mind.

She was on a boat. With Hades. And Charon. That meant...

“The nausea will pass,” Hades said. She placed a bucket before her.

Persephone clutched it with both hands, staring down at it while her stomach roiled. Some unknown liquid sloshed at the bottom of the pail, reflecting her haggard countenance and eyes wild with fear.