“Yes,” Ariadne said, pausing a moment. “We were alone a lot growing up, and I took responsibility for her. I made sure she was dressed and ready for school. I made her lunch and her dinner. I made sure she had fun so she didn’t realize what I realized, which was that our parents were too busy for us.”
Suddenly, Ariadne’s desperation to rescue her sister made sense.
“You can’t keep taking responsibility for her, Ariadne. She makes her own decisions.”
Her mouth hardened. Persephone imagined it wasn’t the first time she’d heard that.
“I would have taken care of her forever,” said Ariadne. “She didn’t have to choose him.”
“Maybe that’s why,” Persephone said. “Because she wanted you to be free.”
Ariadne paled. Those words seemed to hit her differently than the others. After that, they were both quiet until Persephone stopped.
“Do you smell that?” she asked.
Ariadne paused and took a deep breath. “Oh gods,” she whispered and exchanged a look with Persephone, confirming what she suspected—something nearby was dead and decomposing.
A terrible fear seized her heart, and for a brief moment, she let herself wonder if it was Hades.
It can’t be, she told herself, even though she knew it was a possibility given that this was Theseus’s domain and he could kill the gods.
They continued forward, and the smell grew worse. It was sickly sweet and pungent. It made Persephone’s eyes water and her nose burn. She wanted to gag as saliva flooded the back of her throat. She wasn’t sure she was going to make it without retching.
Then Ariadne began to heave, and Persephone couldn’t take it any longer.
She bent over and threw up.
“This is fucking terrible,” she said, placing the back of her hand to her mouth.
Now her throat was on fire, and her nose was dripping with the same contents she’d spewed. In some ways, she did not mind because it deadened the stench of decay.
When Ariadne was finished vomiting, she hiked her shirt over her nose, and Persephone did the same. It did not help much, but it wasn’t like they had a choice. Galanthis was still leading them forward, farther into the labyrinth and closer to death.
Finally, they rounded a corner, and through blurry eyes, Persephone saw the source of the smell. A large mound of flesh lay a few feet ahead.
“What the fuck is that?” Ariadne asked.
Galanthis did not seem as worried, trotting forward without a care in the world.
They followed carefully behind, approaching the corpse.
“What is it?” Ariadne asked.
Whatever it was, it was massive and skinless.
“I don’t know,” Persephone said, but as she neared its head, she thought she could guess. “I think…it was a lion,” she said.
“Oh gods,” Ariadne said right before she threw up again.
Persephone waited until she was finished to speak.
“What do you think happened to it?”
“This is the work of a person,” said Ariadne.
“Hades?” Persephone asked.
“Maybe,” said Ariadne.
Hope rose in her heart. Maybe they were close to finding him.
“It looks like he…” Ariadne’s voice trailed away, and Persephone moved to her side to see she was looking at the lion’s paws, one of which had been stripped of its middle claw.
Persephone looked at Ariadne.
“Do you think…we need to do the same?”
Before she could respond, Galanthis answered with a meow.
“You can’t be serious,” Ariadne said.
Persephone knelt, examining the claws.
They did not look like bone so much as steel. She reached out and touched the tip of one, surprised when it cut her so easily.
“Ouch,” she hissed and drew her finger away quickly. “They’re sharp…like…knives.”
Yet she thought that these were even sharper.
“Here,” said Ariadne. She pulled off her leather gloves. “Use these as a barrier.”
Persephone took them and layered the gloves on one hand, hoping it would be enough to keep the claw from slicing through to her hand. She chose the middle one, and as she wrapped her gloved fingers around the sharp nail, she wondered why Hades had done this but also knew that he wouldn’t unless he had a good reason.
Still, there was a wrongness to it that made Persephone’s stomach turn. She grit her teeth hard as she felt around the top of the claw where it connected to bone and then used her knife to slice between them with her blade. When the claw was free, she took off the gloves and slipped the claw into the finger, storing it in the pocket of her jacket.
“Well, that was horrible,” she said as she stood, retrieving her spool of thread. “Let’s get out of here.”
They left the lion behind and wove through the endless darkness.
“How far are we from the center?” Persephone asked.
“I…don’t know,” said Ariadne. “I’ve lost track of…everything.”
Persephone had too.
“What do we do if he isn’t there?” she asked, though she hated to even entertain the idea.
“Don’t think that way,” said Ariadne. “He’ll be there, if anything because Theseus will take joy in watching you reunite and then tearing you apart.”
As hard as it was to hear, Persephone appreciated Ariadne’s honesty.
“What do you think will be waiting for us when we get there?”
“I have no idea,” Ariadne said. “But it will be terrible.”
Persephone took a breath, but she would face whatever waited for them so long as Hades was there. She would fight for him. She would reunite with him, and they would go home tonight…or tomorrow…or whenever the fuck they left this place.
Galanthis meowed, and Persephone looked to see the cat as she was swallowed by darkness.
It was different from the dark around them, deeper and colder, and there was a wrongness to it she couldn’t describe.
“Ariadne,” Persephone whispered. “Do you think…”
“We’ve made it,” Ariadne said.
An involuntary shiver racked Persephone’s body as they lingered at the edge of the darkness. She’d imagined this unfolding much differently in her head.
Mostly, she’d expected there to be light.
But if they were at the center of the labyrinth, then that meant Hades was near.
Persephone took a step forward and then another, but the dark remained. How was she supposed to find him here?
“Persephone!” Ariadne whispered her name in a hushed tone just as Galanthis gave a low growl and hissed.
Persephone froze as two red eyes flashed in the darkness.
“Ari,” Persephone said. “What is that?”
Just as she said the words, the lights switched on. Persephone flinched at the sudden brightness, dropping her spool of thread. As her vision adjusted, a strange growl drew her attention. When she looked up, she found the source of the red eyes—an abnormally large, pure white bull with enormous horns. It appeared to be covered in bronzed armor, and it was already pawing at the ground and snorting. Thick black smoke blew from its nostrils as if somehow, it had swallowed fire.
Persephone had seen something similar from the chimera she’d fought in the Underworld. Dread pooled in her stomach.
She was certain that thing could breathe fire.
The bull’s eyes were fixed on Galanthis, who stood before it, the hair down her back raised.
“Whatever you do, don’t give him your back,” said Ariadne.
“How are we supposed to run away then?” Persephone demanded.
“I don’t know,” Ariadne snapped. “Isn’t your cat a fucking monster?”
“She isn’t my cat!” Persephone said.
She looked behind her, wondering if they should return to the labyrinth, except that Hades was in front of them, not behind them.
The bull tossed its head and then lowered it, glaring at them with its bright red eyes. Then it charged, and Persephone watched as Galanthis transformed. She grew larger and sprouted black wings and horns, and then she launched herself at the bull.
Persephone and Ariadne didn’t linger. They ran, though she cringed at the sound of the bull’s strange roaring and Galanthis’s howling scream.
She made the mistake of looking over her shoulder to see Galanthis being tossed into the air, and when she landed, it was on the bull’s sharp horns.
“No!” Persephone screamed and came to a grinding halt.
“Come on, Persephone!” Ariadne grabbed Persephone’s arm and pulled her along.
Tears stung her eyes, and her anger burned through her. It was a familiar anger that usually summoned her power, but because they were trapped in this adamant prison, it served no purpose beyond fueling her retreat.