I shook my head slowly. “I can’t,” I whispered.
He was disappointed, I could see it on his face. But he didn’t say so. Instead, he simply stood and returned to his chair, re-opening his book.
“The offer stands,” he said as he casually went back to reading. I squeezed my eyes closed and forced away the pain. I would do anything. But that.
* * *
Days turned into weeks.
I could never say that that either Persephone or Hades were cruel to me or even unpleasant. It wasn’t true. In fact, it was the opposite. They were kind and welcoming. But each day was more painful for me than the last because nothing changed the fact that I was a prisoner.
I realized more than ever that I was a person who thrived on loving relationships. I needed them. I overheard Hades and Persephone whispering in the hall one day.
“She is wilting,” Persephone said anxiously. “I can see it more and more every day. She eats, she drinks nectar, yet she grows weaker. I don’t know what to do.”
“Being away from her family seems to drain her,” Hades observed. “Let us give her time. Surely she will grow accustomed to being here and she will rally.”
“But her light grows faint,” Persephone replied. “I can sense it around her and the energy around the palace that she brought with her is fading. Surely you can see that.”
“I can,” Hades admitted. “But she is strong. She has always recovered, no matter what life has thrown at her. I am certain this will be no different.”
Don’t be so certain, I thought.
At dinner that evening, Hades casually asked me if I had seen my family through the mirror recently.
“No,” I admitted limply, shoving my food around on my plate. “I cannot bring myself to do it.”
“But you should,” Hades encouraged me. “If you but see them, you will feel much better. I am certain.”
“Don’t be,” I answered sharply. “You’ve taken them from me. Don’t feel that you can force me to watch them from here. It is too heartbreaking. It will only make things worse.”
“Well, I’ll leave that to you,” he replied quickly. “You know what you need more than anyone.”
“I need my family,” I answered quietly.
“Well, you can’t have them!” he thundered, pushing away from the table and throwing his chair across the room. It smashed into a shelf of crystal vases, shattering them. “You know the price!”
He stormed from the room without looking back. I was left staring after him. It was the first time I had ever seen him lose his temper. He was always carefully composed.
“You must recover,” Persephone told me quietly. “You will fade away, Harmonia.”
“No, I will not,” I snapped. “No one dies of a broken heart. Those are just romantic stories. But trust me, it isn’t romantic at all if it is happening to you.”
“Take him up on his bargain,” she suggested. “It will end this. You will be returned to them and Hades will be happy.”
I looked at her, appalled. “This, coming from his wife?”
She shook her head. “I will always be the most important to him. That is what matters. I wish to see him happy and I hate seeing you wasting away. Pay his price.”
She looked at me sadly before she continued eating and we finished our meal in silence.
After I returned to my rooms, I sat limply on my bed for what seemed like hours before I finally uncovered the mirror.
“Show me my family,” I whispered hesitantly. Immediately, I saw Raquel and Aphrodite on a beach. Raquel was flying a bright red kite with yellow bows on the string and she left little footprints in the sand as she ran. Aphrodite followed behind her, as beautiful and perfect as always. But her face was sad as she watched my daughter.
I kept watching as Raquel splashed into the surf, but was surprised to see Aphrodite look around warily. Confusion was etched on her face and she appeared to search for someone. And then she met my gaze through the mirror. She sensed my presence, I realized with a start.
“Be patient, Harmonia,” she whispered. “We love you and we are doing all that we can. Your sadness is affecting the mortal world, unhappiness has descended upon it like a fog. We are trying to reason with Zeus, to show him that he is truly needed to right these wrongs or everyone will suffer. Hang on, my sweet. We are coming.”
I knew she couldn’t see me, but I nodded anyway as tears filled my eyes. My sadness was affecting the mortal world? I guessed it made sense. I was the goddess of peace and contentment. If my positive energy faded, then it made sense that the world would suffer. If that was the case… then what would happen if I gave up trying? What if I gave in to my depression? Would it affect the mortal world in a way that would truly make Zeus see that he needed to return? Because if he returned, perhaps he could save us all.
It was worth a try.
And honestly, it wasn’t difficult. I was so very tired. The weight of the world had rested upon my shoulders for more times than I could count. It was time to set that weight down. I climbed into bed and pulled the covers up to my chin, closing my eyes.
The darkness was comforting. Soft and warm like a favorite blanket, it closed around me and lingered. I drifted down, down, down, until I felt as though I were floating. Either in a body of water or midair—I floated away from reality. My pain and sorrow came with me and I didn’t fight it. I dwelled in it.
At some point, maybe hours or maybe days later, I heard vague voices around me, distant and quiet, as though someone was speaking through a veil.
“Her despair is turning the world black,” a voice whispered. “We must do something, Hades.”
“There is nothing to do,” he answered. “She must return to herself. That is the only way.”
“Return her to her family,” a voice suggested. Persephone? “That is a way.”
“Unthinkable!” he roared. “What message would that send?”
“It would send the message that you care what happens outside of the Underworld!”
I stopped listening. My plan was working. My depression was affecting the world. I felt sorry for the mortal world, sorry for the part I was playing in making them unhappy. But it was the only thing I could think of that might help.
So I drifted further away.
Through the black mists surrounding me, I heard voices sometimes, not voices standing next to my body, but voices echoing in my head.
Cadmus’ husky whisper, “I love you. Please hold on.”