“You’re quite safe, I assure you.”
And then…only an instant later—
“You can let go,” Hermes said, still laughing. I detached my limbs from his body, found solid ground beneath my feet and opened my eyes.
We stood in a narrow cave brightened by wall torches that burned with strange green fire. The space before us stretched away to a pinprick of black; it seemed never-ending. I began to wonder how deep down we were, and the weight of the earth—my earth—seemed to press upon my shoulders, my head. I felt suffocated, so removed from the wide-open spaces and forever sky of my forest. After a few desperate gulps of air, I placed a hand over my heart, willed its beat to steady.
Hermes stamped his feet, and the little wings folded back.
“Are we here?” I asked him. “Is this the Underworld?”
“Almost.” He stretched, hands overhead, and then bent forward, shaking out his arms. “I showed off,” he confessed, grinning. “It normally takes longer to get here. But you were nervous, and I didn’t want to prolong your journey.”
“Oh. Thank you.”
“It was the least I could do.” He smiled at me for a moment. “You’ve done well, Persephone. And you’re nearly there.”
“Where are we now?”
He gestured widely. “This is the hall that will take you to the gateway that will take you to the river that will take you to the Underworld.” He nodded toward the endless corridor. “Ever forward. You can’t miss it.”
We began to walk together, and I counted torches to the rhythm of our sandals scuffing stone. I gave up at two-thousand-forty-three, and we seemed no nearer to…anything.
“I can only take you as far as the gateway,” Hermes finally murmured beside me.
“How far is the gateway?”
He pointed.
My face was a handbreadth from a dark metal gate. It hadn’t been there a moment ago, I was certain. The sharp-tipped rails were draped in a moss I had never encountered before; it glowed green beneath the torchlight. I touched the iron, hesitant, and it burned my skin, but the gate opened, swinging outward without a creak .
The air here smelled of shadowed water, of forgotten things. Of Hades.
“Well, always nice to see you, Persephone—good luck.” Hermes was turning to leave, and I gripped his arm automatically, so tightly he winced.
“Please don’t leave me, Hermes,” I whispered. “Please.”
“You know, you’re very pretty when you pout.” He was floating above the ground, winged sandals fluttering, and he bent forward to brush a kiss on my cheek. “You must enter the Underworld alone, Persephone. A symbolic journey, if you will.”
“But I’m afraid.”
He wriggled out of my grasp, drifted down the corridor, the planes of his face shimmering in the ghostly green light.
“Of course you’re afraid,” his words echoed around me. “This would not be so precious if it came without cost.”
“Hermes!”
He disappeared.
I was alone, at the beginning of the Underworld.
I waited.
I don’t know why I waited, but I waited—waited for him to come back, to say he had only been teasing me, that of course he would guide me right to Hades’ palace—or cave, or whatever sort of abode she dwelled in down here. My faltering bravado had vanished along with my half-brother.
He didn’t come back, and at last I felt foolish, just standing there, waiting to be saved.
I bit my lip, turned, and I stepped through the gateway, stepped from rock to more rock, and nothing looked different, but the pull of air was stronger now, cold and luring. It wound round my legs like rope, and I obeyed its tugging, impatient to be done, to be there , to see Hades. Soon enough, I began to run.
There was nothing but the unending passage and the cool wind, the green fire, the hard earth under my sore feet. I stopped once or twice, pounded my palms against the craggy walls in frustration, but I didn’t consider turning back. If this cave went on forever, I would walk
And then…only an instant later—
“You can let go,” Hermes said, still laughing. I detached my limbs from his body, found solid ground beneath my feet and opened my eyes.
We stood in a narrow cave brightened by wall torches that burned with strange green fire. The space before us stretched away to a pinprick of black; it seemed never-ending. I began to wonder how deep down we were, and the weight of the earth—my earth—seemed to press upon my shoulders, my head. I felt suffocated, so removed from the wide-open spaces and forever sky of my forest. After a few desperate gulps of air, I placed a hand over my heart, willed its beat to steady.
Hermes stamped his feet, and the little wings folded back.
“Are we here?” I asked him. “Is this the Underworld?”
“Almost.” He stretched, hands overhead, and then bent forward, shaking out his arms. “I showed off,” he confessed, grinning. “It normally takes longer to get here. But you were nervous, and I didn’t want to prolong your journey.”
“Oh. Thank you.”
“It was the least I could do.” He smiled at me for a moment. “You’ve done well, Persephone. And you’re nearly there.”
“Where are we now?”
He gestured widely. “This is the hall that will take you to the gateway that will take you to the river that will take you to the Underworld.” He nodded toward the endless corridor. “Ever forward. You can’t miss it.”
We began to walk together, and I counted torches to the rhythm of our sandals scuffing stone. I gave up at two-thousand-forty-three, and we seemed no nearer to…anything.
“I can only take you as far as the gateway,” Hermes finally murmured beside me.
“How far is the gateway?”
He pointed.
My face was a handbreadth from a dark metal gate. It hadn’t been there a moment ago, I was certain. The sharp-tipped rails were draped in a moss I had never encountered before; it glowed green beneath the torchlight. I touched the iron, hesitant, and it burned my skin, but the gate opened, swinging outward without a creak .
The air here smelled of shadowed water, of forgotten things. Of Hades.
“Well, always nice to see you, Persephone—good luck.” Hermes was turning to leave, and I gripped his arm automatically, so tightly he winced.
“Please don’t leave me, Hermes,” I whispered. “Please.”
“You know, you’re very pretty when you pout.” He was floating above the ground, winged sandals fluttering, and he bent forward to brush a kiss on my cheek. “You must enter the Underworld alone, Persephone. A symbolic journey, if you will.”
“But I’m afraid.”
He wriggled out of my grasp, drifted down the corridor, the planes of his face shimmering in the ghostly green light.
“Of course you’re afraid,” his words echoed around me. “This would not be so precious if it came without cost.”
“Hermes!”
He disappeared.
I was alone, at the beginning of the Underworld.
I waited.
I don’t know why I waited, but I waited—waited for him to come back, to say he had only been teasing me, that of course he would guide me right to Hades’ palace—or cave, or whatever sort of abode she dwelled in down here. My faltering bravado had vanished along with my half-brother.
He didn’t come back, and at last I felt foolish, just standing there, waiting to be saved.
I bit my lip, turned, and I stepped through the gateway, stepped from rock to more rock, and nothing looked different, but the pull of air was stronger now, cold and luring. It wound round my legs like rope, and I obeyed its tugging, impatient to be done, to be there , to see Hades. Soon enough, I began to run.
There was nothing but the unending passage and the cool wind, the green fire, the hard earth under my sore feet. I stopped once or twice, pounded my palms against the craggy walls in frustration, but I didn’t consider turning back. If this cave went on forever, I would walk
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