Larissa blinks. Then she cracks up. ‘Is that how we’re introducing ourselves now? Larissa, merchant, Argos, dead thirty years. Plague, I think, if we’re throwing that out there.’
‘Pneumonia.’
‘Ah, very fancy.’ Larissa turns to me. ‘Anyway, so Styx collapsed and Cora – Oh, there she is! Cora!’
A woman with red curls piled so high on her head they seem liable to tip her over turns at her name and rushes to join us.
‘Cora and I ran to check she was okay, and that’s when she said about Hades,’ finishes Larissa. ‘So is it true?’
‘Is it true?’ Cora repeats with more urgency.
‘Um.’ I’m not really sure what to say. ‘We discussed it. It wasn’t a proposal.’
‘Good.’ Damaris nods. ‘Never accept the first proposal.’
Cora nods. ‘But I’m sure Hades is lovely.’
The others look at her.
‘The king of Hell?’ Larissa asks. ‘I don’t think “lovely” is the word I’d use.’
Cora blushes as much as a spirit can blush. They may be whole souls now but they’re still vaguely translucent. ‘Well, yes, I was going to say I’m sure he’s lovely but I don’t get the appeal of marriage.’
I nod. ‘Pretty much my thoughts on the matter.’
‘Ishe lovely?’ Larissa asks as though the thought has just occurred to her.
‘Um.’ I’m going to blame my hesitation on the hangover. ‘No, it’s not the word I’d use. But he’s … not horrible. He’s helping me with all this.’
‘Well, I for one am looking forward to this paradise you’re creating. And if he’s helping us get there then I suppose he can’t be all that bad,’ Damaris says. ‘But right now you need water and some food.’
My stomach churns. I nibbled on some bread at breakfast and it hasn’t settled well. ‘No, not food.’
The women smirk. ‘Come on, let’s take you somewhere quiet.’
Somewhere quiet is apparently the shores of the Styx and after a while Styx herself comes crawling up to join us. She laughs at her own messy state and makes enough self-deprecating jokes that the mortal women are soon at ease. We spend most of the day talking about nothing in particular, and I know I can’t afford to waste a day like this but I feel like I’m getting a better grasp of the humans and their wants and needs this way.
Enhancing this realm feels within my reach more than ever before. And, at the same time, I feel something slipping away. How much longer do I have? A handful of days? Mere hours? I’m half expecting Father’s lightning to strike me down at any moment.
All along, I have known I can’t stay in the Underworld. But it’s starting to feel like I’ll be losing something precious if I leave it all behind – perhaps even a part of myself.
WHEN I RETURN, I FINDHades in a hidden room, the one filled with easels and the thick smell of paint. He’s so focused on the canvas in front of him that he doesn’t notice me enter.
I falter, taking a moment or two to stare unabashedly at the concentration on his face, the way his lips purse, his strong hand curled round the point of a brush, making delicate and precise motions. The planes of his face are sharp in profile. I have never longed to paint but suddenly I see the appeal – if I could capture this moment I would.
I can’t believe I was terrified of what he was concealing and it was this. I feared hidden cruelty but found gentleness instead.
I could watch him do this for years – the stillness, the intensity is captivating. I feel like a planet locked in orbit.
I stumble closer without even realizing it.
‘Hello,’ I manage, not sure when speaking became such an effort.
Hades jumps and paint from the brush flicks across his cheek but he doesn’t notice.
‘Oh, hello,’ he says, rushing to put everything down.
‘I didn’t mean to interrupt,’ I say. ‘I can leave.’
