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Darkness claimed her.
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“She cannot cross, Ariston. She will fall,” Hades said calmly.
Ariston shook his head. “Fall?” Was there no end to the God’s meddling?
“It is the will of the Fates,” Hades explained. “Those cursed cannot travel with Charon. No funeral rites are given, so no penance can be made. Even as a shade, their curse follows them. They’re to be cursed in the Underworld too. They fall, from grace and favor, into Tartarus.”
“Then I will meet her there.”
“Are you so eager for eternal pain and suffering?” Hades asked.
“No,” he assured him. “But I can find no purpose in any existence without her. I tried and failed.”
Hades inclined his head.
“Mayhap I can help,” a woman spoke softly, moving from the shadows. “I am Aphrodite, Ariston of Rhodes. Olympus would give you two gifts.”
“Let me share Elysium with my wife,” he said at once.
Hades regarded Aphrodite. “And the other?”
“That is all I wish.” There was nothing else, he knew.
Hades regarded him intently, then beckoned him to the balcony overlooking all of the Underworld. “It can be done, but your trials are not yet over. She will still fall. You will have to catch her. Go to the fields there, and look up. You will see the eye of a storm cloud, churning above. Fire, ice, rain, wind – all will rail against you. Look for the flash, a rift that splits the sky. It is then she falls. If you do not catch her, Ariston, she is lost to you. Even I cannot overrule the Fates.”
Ariston nodded, his eyes fixed upon the darkening skies.
Hades urged, “Go now.”
Ariston spoke quickly. “Thank you, Goddess. And you, my lord, Hades…”
“You’ve no time for pretty speeches.” Hades waved him away.
But Aphrodite smiled brightly at him.
Ariston nodded and made his way from the hall, Hades’ home, and across the bridge separating the massive black castle from the fields. His legs flew, moving towards the darkening clouds overhead. When he reached the field, his eyes turned towards the sky.
The clouds rolled, caught up and twisted by the strong pull of the wind. A clap of thunder shook the field, and the air crackled about him, pulling his hair straight up.
The wind roared hotly about him, scorching his neck and cheeks. His cloak twisted up, choking him. But then it lifted, burned or blown away. And still the heat scoured the inside of his nose and throat as he breathed.
Lightning struck the grass at his feet, splitting the ground wide and singeing the grass before him. He peered over into the dark place beneath, but turned quickly from the sight.
He would catch her. She would spend no time in that wicked place.
The clouds overhead spun, churning at an ever faster speed as a sudden rain fell upon him. Shards of ice followed, pummeling him with such force that he widened his legs to maintain his balance.
His eyes turned back to the skies, and he waited.
Then he saw her.
Her hair was a streak of gold, hurtling from the rift in the clouds straight towards the jagged hole at his feet. He braced himself against the edge, tensing his arms. The frozen rain beat on, and still he waited.
He blinked the rain from his eyes and reached for her.
The wind shifted, pushing against him when he would reach her. Her body, carried by the wind, landed in his arms with a mighty force – knocking them away from the hole and across the field.
