I break. ‘You’re right but, Hades, please. If there was a way to fight them without risking the humans then perhaps but –’
‘I hate to point this out, but, with the afterlife you’ve created, mortal death isn’t the deterrent it once was.’
‘Afterlife isn’t life, Hades – you know that as well as I do.’
It’s not. As goddess of the thing, I know there’s a very marked difference – the afterlife is a flickering candle, not the boldly burning flame of life itself.
‘So you expect me to just stand idly by if he chooses to tear you from this realm?’
‘Yes.’
‘Persephone.’ He steps forward again and I can hardly look at him, can’t cope with that look on his face like he’s already mourning for me. ‘Please don’t ask me to do that.’
‘It’s not about you and it’s not about me. It’s about the people the gods don’t care for.’
‘It is about you if you’re willing to do this for them.’
‘I can’t be the goddess of life and cause so much death, Hades. You know how that would hurt me.’
It’s the only thing I’ve said that’s made him hesitate because he knows as well as I do that it would feel like a corruption of my very self. He stares at me instead, pleading, and I want to give in, to tell him to do anything he must to keep us together because the thought of being torn away from him is almost as unbearable as the thought of so much death.
Almost.
‘We’ll refuse,’ I say. ‘We’ll leverage power, argue, fight ourselves if we must, and if we can find a way to fight on a plane without mortal lives then perhaps.’
He reaches for me, takes my face delicately in his hands and kisses me with desperation.
I cling to the taste of him, my hands curling into his robeslike if I clutch him tight enough even my father won’t have the power to wrench me from his side. I can’t believe Mother’s taken this from me too. We should have spent these last weeks doing exactly this – grasping one another, kissing until we’re dizzy, breathing one another in. Instead we’ve been running around the Underworld trying to fix the things she’s broken.
I taste salt on my lips and when he pulls away I see twin tracks of tears down his cheeks.
‘I love you. There’s a slight chance we’re being dramatic once more, getting ahead of ourselves.’ He manages a weak smile. ‘But I love you.’
‘I never doubted that.’ I wipe one of those tears from his skin. ‘But that’s not actually the agreement I’m looking for.’
‘I’m serious, Persephone. If you’re doing this, if you’re going to have the confrontation I think you’re about to, then I need you to know that, despite what you may have been told, you are so very easy to love.’ He takes my hands and my heart races so loudly it almost drowns out the words he’s saying – words that, until they were said, I had no idea I was desperate for. ‘No conditions, every version of you – I love them all. And it’s the easiest thing in the world to do.’
I kiss him again and whisper declarations of my own love against his lips. This time it really does feel like it could be a goodbye. It’s filled with as much heartbreak as love, with a longing that feels like losing, and it’s not just his tears I taste.
He wraps me in his arms, buries his head in my hair and leans against my shoulder. I clutch him, revel in his warmth and try to memorize everything about him.
‘Promise me, Hades,’ I say softly, clinging to him tight. ‘The humans have suffered enough over this. No war.’
‘I’ll promise you no battlegrounds,’ he says, drawing away only so he can pierce me with the seriousness of his gaze. ‘But there are other ways to fight a war, and I refuse to promise to ever stop fighting for you.’
I lean forward to kiss him again, trying not to think of each kiss as potentially being our last.
‘That works for me,’ I say. ‘Because I plan on confronting my father and fighting for you, for this home and for myself with everything I have.’
WE CAN’T KEEP THEM WAITING;it will only make it worse. I rush about the palace, finding myself issuing orders that will only be needed if I don’t return. I can’t bring myself to say farewells but what if this is it and I never get another chance? But then wouldn’t I have bigger problems than not getting to see the land I have created or the friends I hold dear one last time?
I find the necklace Hades made weeks ago and tighten it round my neck, trying to pretend I don’t think,Something to remember him by.
In an effort not to spiral, I focus on what is immediate. I rush to the courtyard with everything Hades and I will need, hastily straightening the crown in my hair.
‘That’s your plan?’ Hades asks incredulously. ‘A fruit basket to save the world?’
‘Appearances,’ I say. And a middle finger up to my mother, about as politely as I can.
