Free That Fatal Kiss by Mina Lobo Page B

Erebus,” Hecate called out.
    The Fury set down her whip and walked closer to the mounted goddesses, bowing when she reached them. “Welcome, Persephone. I am pleased to have you join us, though I cannot like the method in which your presence was obtained.”
    Persephone inclined her head in thanks for the sentiment before inquiring, “Do you stand guard here always, Tisiphone?”
    “Not always. Sometimes I go within to punish the condemned, or I join my sisters above ground to gather up those mortals who have escaped justice.”
    “And who avenges crimes against the gods?” Persephone asked.
    “Only Zeus may reprimand another Immortal.”
    “And who may reprimand Zeus?”
    “Discretion, Persephone!” Hecate said.
    “Discretion be damned,” Persephone said. “I will speak freely!” She turned back to the Fury, noting that Tisiphone did not censure her, either by word or gesture. “Who may avenge me, Tisiphone?”
    “If you truly seek vengeance, then perhaps you shall avenge yourself.”
    “Perhaps? Why would I not seek vengeance? Have I not been severely wronged?”
    “You have.”
    “Then?” Persephone challenged.
    Tisiphone’s dark eyes shone. “Only you know what it is you truly seek.”
    “If not vengeance, then what?”
    “Fulfillment.”
    Persephone pointedly ignored the smirk that came to Hecate’s face, wondering caustically if all of her thoughts and emotions were so easily read or if it was only these two goddesses who could so perfectly divine them. “We shouldn’t keep you from your duties any longer. Come, Hecate, let us continue on our way.”
    Tisiphone bowed again as Persephone turned Zephyr around, with Hecate following suit. The Witch Goddess led the way down to the river Styx and guided them along its course, through the fields of white asphodel. She watched as Persephone took in the sights of the fluttering shades, which were excited by their presence, but did not draw near them.
    Persephone’s expression changed from one of irritation to pity at the sight of these senseless beings as they lamented the loss of life and love, those that could still remember, that is. They trekked slowly through the fields and Persephone commiserated with their confusion. Like her, they’d been taken from all they knew and loved. But to these souls remained neither power nor pleasure. Only those judged worthy of placement in the Elysium fields found joy in the Underworld. Persephone knew these shades were not guilty of great crimes. They had lived ordinary lives, each praising the gods as he or she best could, only to endure this dreary land for a thousand years before choosing new destinies. Then they would drink the waters of the river Lethe, to completely forget all that had come before, and return to the Upperworld, only to repeat the cycle. Some would return to Erebus and be sent to Elysium instead, others would spend another thousand years in the asphodel, doing nothing, feeling nothing but longing for precious life, and others still would be condemned to Tartarus, and so on. Persephone grew troubled for them, these hapless mortals, but it was beyond even her power to alter their fates.
    “Do they lose all reason and sense here in the fields?” Persephone asked Hecate.
    “At first, they remember everything of life, even how they died, but after a time they grow befuddled and sluggish. The memories are harder for them to recall and they have neither the will nor the ability to fight for them.”
    Persephone saw Charon’s ship on the dark, roiling waters of the Styx, heading out to the opposite bank to pick up the new shades. Cerberus waited patiently for his return, to ascertain that no one on board the ferry could harm his Master. She reflected that he would have been a handsome animal, if not for his three heads. Persephone shuddered and drove Zephyr forward, suddenly overwhelmed with the need to put the dead behind her and forget them for a while.
    And time passed as they followed the