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No one told Hades what ruin comes from a fourth crossing.
11
Kore
He hates the feel of his suit, though it’s made of fine material. The oppressive, formal symbol suffocates Kore. As he looks around at the other gods, demigods, and immortal creatures that have gathered in the ballroom of Zeus' palace, Kore finds himself wildly underdressed. They glitter, laden with golden ornaments, and their evening wear reminds Kore that his suit is cheap by comparison. The beings around him wear shoes fit for immortals.
Kore doesn’t own dress shoes; his well-loved canvas sneakers cover his long feet. He grabs a drink from a passing servant to help calm his nerves.
I shouldn’t be here.
The belief intensifies as Kore wanders through the crowd.
His mother stands with Aphrodite and Hestia in a corner of the room. He ducks out of their sight before he’s spotted. Kore holds his breath, waiting to see if Demeter hurries after him. From his spot, he can hear her talking with her usual imperious tone.
“I don’t see why this requires my attention. We all know no one in Olympus will marry Hades.”
A voice of sultry decadence replies, “Don’t be so heartless, Demeter. Hades is a beautiful woman, and she has her own realm. A man would be a fool to disregard her out of fear.” Kore knows that has to be Aphrodite, one of the few goddesses brave enough to argue with his mother. Or so he assumes, from all the times Demeter came home ranting about her after their council meetings.Aphrodite, that annoying whore.Words his mother frequently spoke.
“Now, now, let’s not fight. It’s been so long since we all gathered like this. Let’s enjoy ourselves,” Hestia says, trying to calm the women at her sides. Her tone is chastising but somehow fond, the way Kore always imagined a mother’s tone should be. Hestia is the one true maiden of Olympus, having never bedded a man, woman, or creature. Yet, there’s more maternal warmth in her than in the mothers Kore has met in this realm. Especially his own.
“I’m not interested in arguing.” Demeter sniffs.
Kore manages to contain his snort. His mother is always interested in arguing. She’s always interested inwinning.He flattens his body closer to the pillar, listening as Demeter continues sharing unwanted thoughts. “I’m stating a fact. Mark my words, Hades will not leave this realm as a bride or a bride-to-be.”
Aphrodite releases a laugh that reminds Kore of lust. He swallows as she replies, “If you believe that, let’s make a bet.”
“Fine,” Demeter bites back.
He cracks a smile, amused at the way Aphrodite easily burrows beneath his mother’s skin.
“If Hades leaves with a man,” Aphrodite says. “You must produce your daughter. We’ve all heard about her. But Demeter, my dear, it’s high time you prove she’s real.”
Kore’s heart pounds in his chest, thumping so loudly in his own ears he’s convinced his mother hears the muscle.
Demeter doesn’t and seems confident; she accepts Aphrodite’s bet without a hint of discomfort. “I will produce Persephone, if Hades takes a man to the Underworld.”
Kore sneaks away from the trio of women, wiping nervous sweat from his forehead with the back of his arm. He accepts another drink from a servant. Downing the contents of his glass, Kore realizes the room’s gone still. The lack of sound creates an eerie buzzing in his head. He turns to face the dais that leads to Zeus' throne.
At the top he spots Zeus, escorting a woman in a fitted black gown with a massive crown of spikes atop her head. She is stunning despite her crimson-painted mouth appearing irritably pinched. A diamond choker glitters at her throat, matching the teardrop diamonds that dangle from her ears. The Void of Erebus sucks in the light surrounding her, a blackened mist that bends Olympus at her will. Hades isthegoddess on that dais, a queen unparalleled, and Kore stares up at her with his mouth agape.
“Not even Aphrodite is so beautiful,” he murmurs to himself, forgetting that gods are blessed with the best hearing.
Though no one seems to pay him any attention. They’re all too busy staring up at the queen who fills their nightmares; the one all the realms portray as cold and unyielding. A daemon rather than a goddess. Cold radiates from her—Erebusis in her veins—and Kore shivers. Not fear, anticipation.
Hades leans into those unfounded fears when Zeus mistakenly calls her a prize. As Pegasus should be left wild, so should Hades—unbroken and unbridled. Though, from what Kore can tell, Zeus respects Pegasus more than he respects his sister.
Kore watches Hades with growing fascination—in awe—as she rips her hand from her brother’s. Ice blooms over the golden steps of Zeus’ throne, a thin layer of her power coating her brother’s prized home.
“I will be no prize,” Hades tells the gathered crowd, with a quiet voice that rings through the ballroom.
Her pale eyes are bright with her anger—or perhaps it is anguish—Kore wonders which.
“I am the Queen of the Underworld. I am not a prize for a would-be king. I am a ruler, and marriage will not change that fact. If you’ve come looking for a helpless, mewling puppet then I am too glad to disappoint your expectations. I was a warrior before most of you were conceived; I will be a ruler long after you lose your relevancy to mortals.” Her arms reach toward the heavens, summoning down the essence of Chaos when she hisses. “While your temples stand empty—barren—my name will still hold fear. I will be the last queen standing among the rubble of your memory. Do not forget this.” Hades turns toward Zeus with an expression of open hostility.Treason for any other.“You especially, brother. Remember the one you wronged when your temples rot with abandonment.”
Kore has never known enthrallment for a woman. Now, he stands captivated by the goddess that sends others running in terror. He watches as Hades descends the stairs, her eyes holding the room captive with her rage.
His heart thunders in his ears. Hades' words seem slower as she questions them, but Kore hears her through the fog filling his head. He hears her through the rage. Kore sees down into her soul when she asks the room a last question, emotion wetting her beautiful eyes.
