Read Online Radiant Darkness by Emily Whitman - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Emily Whitman
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aren't you trying to save them ?"
"Because they're the reason it's here," he says, shifting back against the trunk and holding me tighter. "You see, some shades like thinking about their life on Earth, but for many, memory is an enemy. They grouse about what they left behind—wrongs done them, and tasks left unfinished. They wail about children in danger. They pick fights. In short, they're miserable. And that makes trouble. For them, there's the Lethe. The River of Forgetting."
Across the distance, laughter rises and floats away like steam.
Hades looks at me. "Don't you hear the river calling?"
"But it's so joyous, so peaceful! It couldn't do any harm."
He shakes his head. "Those who accept the river's embrace lose their pain, but they also lose their past, their memories, their very names. They're happy precisely because they forget who they were."
"Can't they go in just a little bit, maybe dip in a toe, and ease their pain without losing themselves?"
"In theory," he says. "But the Lethe is a powerful drug. Once touched, it's too delicious to resist in full."
I try to listen more closely. Now the water's enticing song seems to be made of a thousand twining notes. It's as if each drop of water were a voice surrendered to the river.
"But they're shades, Hades. It might not do the same to me."
"Why risk losing everything for the sake of an experiment?" he says. "What if those beautiful eyes of yours were blank? Your body nothing but an empty shell? That's not what I want sharing my bed." I cuddle closer as he reaches his other arm around and runs a warm hand slowly along my arm.
Then, in a more practical voice, he adds, "Or ruling beside me. What if the Lethe swallowed your power?"
"Me? Power?" I have to laugh. "I don't know why you keep saying that."
"I want you for you. All of you." He stands and gives me his hand. "Now let me show you around."
He lifts me onto the horse and leaps up behind me. With an arm firmly circling my waist, he nuzzles my neck and nudges the horse on with his heels.
We ride past a gleaming temple, open to the skies and guarded by ghostly white poplars. A golden throne with lion legs gleams on a white marble dais. Hades' voice murmurs in my ear. "For outdoor festivals."
We ride and ride and ride along a wall that's taller than two horses. "Our borders have never been broached," he says with pride. "These walls circle our realm, except where rivers do the job. You've seen the Lethe. Now I'll show you the Phlegethon, if you're not bored yet."
Bored? My eyes are more open than they've ever been, drinking up a brand-new world. The warm, dusty air smells like perfume to me. The horse's hooves make music as Hades holds me close.
At one point he gestures to a gate where the sun enters each morning, crossing our lands when it's night on Earth. So that's why the sun is here. There are other gates, too, all firmly closed, and yet the walls feel as comfortable as Hades' arm, like a golden ring on a willing finger.
I smell sulfur and a smoky scent like burning torches. We round a bend and look down a cliff and I cry, "The river's on fire!"
"It isn't on fire," says Hades. "It is fire. Pure flame flows through the Phlegethon's banks, charring them black. That bronze door on the other side is the entrance to Tartarus."
Tartarus, prison for Titans and miscreant gods. In spite of the heat, I shiver, and Hades turns the horse around. "Don't worry," he says. "They can't escape, any more than mortal shades can cross back over the River Styx."
"Show me," I say. Anything to stay like this, wrapped in Hades' arm.
The horse's rhythmic step lulls me, and I lose track of time. Finally we stop, and Hades points to a curving road that disappears into thick trees.
"The Styx is over there. That river won't burn you, or suck out your identity, but don't try to go wading across.
"Because they're the reason it's here," he says, shifting back against the trunk and holding me tighter. "You see, some shades like thinking about their life on Earth, but for many, memory is an enemy. They grouse about what they left behind—wrongs done them, and tasks left unfinished. They wail about children in danger. They pick fights. In short, they're miserable. And that makes trouble. For them, there's the Lethe. The River of Forgetting."
Across the distance, laughter rises and floats away like steam.
Hades looks at me. "Don't you hear the river calling?"
"But it's so joyous, so peaceful! It couldn't do any harm."
He shakes his head. "Those who accept the river's embrace lose their pain, but they also lose their past, their memories, their very names. They're happy precisely because they forget who they were."
"Can't they go in just a little bit, maybe dip in a toe, and ease their pain without losing themselves?"
"In theory," he says. "But the Lethe is a powerful drug. Once touched, it's too delicious to resist in full."
I try to listen more closely. Now the water's enticing song seems to be made of a thousand twining notes. It's as if each drop of water were a voice surrendered to the river.
"But they're shades, Hades. It might not do the same to me."
"Why risk losing everything for the sake of an experiment?" he says. "What if those beautiful eyes of yours were blank? Your body nothing but an empty shell? That's not what I want sharing my bed." I cuddle closer as he reaches his other arm around and runs a warm hand slowly along my arm.
Then, in a more practical voice, he adds, "Or ruling beside me. What if the Lethe swallowed your power?"
"Me? Power?" I have to laugh. "I don't know why you keep saying that."
"I want you for you. All of you." He stands and gives me his hand. "Now let me show you around."
He lifts me onto the horse and leaps up behind me. With an arm firmly circling my waist, he nuzzles my neck and nudges the horse on with his heels.
We ride past a gleaming temple, open to the skies and guarded by ghostly white poplars. A golden throne with lion legs gleams on a white marble dais. Hades' voice murmurs in my ear. "For outdoor festivals."
We ride and ride and ride along a wall that's taller than two horses. "Our borders have never been broached," he says with pride. "These walls circle our realm, except where rivers do the job. You've seen the Lethe. Now I'll show you the Phlegethon, if you're not bored yet."
Bored? My eyes are more open than they've ever been, drinking up a brand-new world. The warm, dusty air smells like perfume to me. The horse's hooves make music as Hades holds me close.
At one point he gestures to a gate where the sun enters each morning, crossing our lands when it's night on Earth. So that's why the sun is here. There are other gates, too, all firmly closed, and yet the walls feel as comfortable as Hades' arm, like a golden ring on a willing finger.
I smell sulfur and a smoky scent like burning torches. We round a bend and look down a cliff and I cry, "The river's on fire!"
"It isn't on fire," says Hades. "It is fire. Pure flame flows through the Phlegethon's banks, charring them black. That bronze door on the other side is the entrance to Tartarus."
Tartarus, prison for Titans and miscreant gods. In spite of the heat, I shiver, and Hades turns the horse around. "Don't worry," he says. "They can't escape, any more than mortal shades can cross back over the River Styx."
"Show me," I say. Anything to stay like this, wrapped in Hades' arm.
The horse's rhythmic step lulls me, and I lose track of time. Finally we stop, and Hades points to a curving road that disappears into thick trees.
"The Styx is over there. That river won't burn you, or suck out your identity, but don't try to go wading across.
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