Psyche shivered with her head bent to the Goddess of Love. She bit her lip to try and stop her teeth from audibly chattering.
Aphrodite crowed, lounging on her petal-lined throne. Her perfect face was turned into a sneering grin.
"All the way from the River Styx…" she formed the words carefully with those luscious lips. "Well, thank you for your fine delivery. It seems that you have one last little thing to do for me and then I will be satisfied…"
Psyche could only imagine what the last impossible task was that the goddess had set for her. The heavy aroma of perfumes, spices and flowers was making her head spin.
"I lent the Queen of the Dead something for her wedding," Aphrodite continued, her smile growing wider. "It is in a precious little box that she keeps in her private House at all times. I need you to go and fetch it for me and bring it back, whole and complete. I'll even be generous and start you at the River Styx, just to save some tedious walking."
Psyche nodded, obedient.
Aphrodite stalked over to her poor victim and lifted Psyche's face up with one perfect fingernail under the girl's chin. Psyche dared not meet the lovely eyes of the goddess.
"How anybody could mistake you for something as beautiful as me, I will never understand." Aphrodite whispered, her voice layered with malice. "Mortals are fools. If you can survive this, little butterfly, you may take your crippled body back to my son and be happy together. If he can still stand the sight of you, that is."
Psyche felt heavy with exhaustion and fear. She wanted Eros here with her so badly she could almost taste it. The short time with Himeros had only reawakened the need she had for Eros's arms, his words, his sweet kisses. She dragged herself to her feet with the force of that desire and moaned, feeling her loneliness keenly. But she moved towards that door for the last time, for better or for worse. With Aphrodite's mocking laughter in her ears, Psyche cried and pushed open the door.
She was back at a familiar landscape – that grey nothingness of stone.
Psyche wailed when the door shut behind her and vanished from sight. It was so unfair, all of it! Despair sucked at her, draining her willpower. She considered that Orpheus had a point – there did come a time when hopeless love drove you to lay down and simply waste away. Her tears tasted bitter, acid rolled in her stomach. The ground was jagged with stones but all of a sudden it seemed like the best place for her. Psyche let her knees give way and fell into the dirt.
For there was no way to survive a descent to the Underworld. Yes, some heroes had managed the feat but she was no hero…
As though thought had conjured reality there suddenly came to her ears the distinct sound of male voices. One was calm, assertive and the other sounded shrill, almost panicked. She lifted her head to try and see the speakers.
One enormous hero was a bit of a mess. He was wounded terribly; blood poured down his forearms and the back of him was bright red. He was pulling himself along somehow on shaky legs. It was his panicked words she had heard while lying in the stones. The other hero was tugging the collar of an enormous three-headed hound… Psyche realised with some shock she had to be staring at Cerberus, the dog that guarded the Underworld.
But gods and goddesses, what were these heroes doing with Cerberus?
Psyche staggered to something like a sitting position just as Theseus fell. Hercules frowned but there was little he could do. Scrambling to his knees Theseus groaned.
"Go on without me," he muttered into the stone. "I need to rest and gather my strength. I have not walked in so long and…"
"You will survive," Hercules still frowned. "But I'm not going to just abandon you here."
Psyche got to her own feet and teetered towards them. Something within her was fascinated by the pair and the gigantic dog, as though all of her reality had become one vast ridiculous dream. She fumbled until she found a waterskin at her hip and, with it aloft, she approached the heroes.
Hercules saw her and held Cerberus behind him carefully. His companion coughed and sprawled further into the stone. Psyche approached the stricken man and put the water to his lips. He guzzled eagerly.
"Not too fast," she told him. "Easy."
Theseus took a breath and started taking smaller sips as she bid.
"What are you doing here, miss?" Hercules interjected. "This is not a safe place."
Psyche delayed answering for a long moment, her gaze on Theseus and the colour slowly returning to his cheeks.
"I was sent," she said honestly. "The Goddess Aphrodite ordered me into the Underworld to fetch something back for her from Queen Persephone."
"On a task as well…." Hercules paused, seemingly listening to something invisible around them. Psyche paid him little attention. She wiped some of the blood off Theseus's face. He murmured thanks in return.
"Do you know how to seek an audience with the Queen of the Underworld?" Hercules asked her. Psyche finally met his gaze and to her surprise, he looked determined. The enormous dog stood obediently behind him like a tame puppy.
She shook her head.
Hercules used his free hand and plucked something out of his pack that glinted in the little light there was. He held it out to her. Psyche took the two gold pieces from him and stared.
"Cerberus is coming with me for a short while and will not bother you," Hercules told her. "But Charon, the boatman, will not ferry you over unless you have payment or ichor in your veins. This will sate him. But be very careful not to touch any of the water, do not eat or drink anything in the land of the Dead and do not be swayed by the cries of desperate Shades trying to get passage any way they can to the place of judgement. They will steal your payment and leave you abandoned without a second thought, okay? You understand me?"
"Thank you sir," Psyche told him. She held the pieces of gold so hard they bit into her palms.
"You're welcome," Hercules told her with a tiny smile. "Some of the gods watch over you. One in particular, I am led to believe. You can make it."
"Thank you for your kindness," Theseus added.
"How do you know he looks over me?" Psyche asked before she could stop herself. There were fresh tears in her eyes as she beseeched Hercules. He had a kind smile for her. She believed him when he told her she could make it.
"I am Hercules, son of Zeus," he told her. "Gods and goddesses talk to me all of the time. Eros also happens to be close to the goddess Athena, who guides me to all of my success. She urges you not to give up, for your lover is more resourceful than you think." His brows lifted as her jaw fell away. "Even as we speak, Eros is scheming to make you immortal and above his mother's machinations. Athena has inspired him. He will not fail."
Hercules helped her to her feet and both heroes showed her the easiest way through the doors of the Underworld. He reiterated his instructions and Psyche thanked him again, for he had also restored hope to her. Theseus fashioned a stick as a sort of crutch and both were soon on their way, Cerberus following a little sheepishly behind them both, wincing at the light he was unaccustomed to.
Psyche held the gold tightly and carefully navigated her way to the huge doors. She pushed one open with some difficulty as all the Shades around her simply floated through them. The entrance to the Underworld was intimidating, as was the long line of the dead stretching out in all directions but Psyche persisted.
You can do this, she chanted in her own head. Athena believes you can. You can do this. You can do this one last thing.
As instructed, she ignored all the pleas and cries of the dead in line who wanted her payment for the ferryman. She followed the line of the river until she walked onto a vast dock. There were Shades everywhere, some still weeping, some in shock and even a few with acceptance on their faces, ready for their final judgement.
Psyche walked to the end of the dock and waited.
A vast skeleton-coloured barge started down the river towards her. At first, she thought she imagined fog clinging to every side of it and then she realised it was a mass of Shades – desperate Shades that had jumped and grabbed onto the boat and not let go. Perhaps they had not been buried properly and haunted the docks or perhaps they simply wanted to delay their judgement – either way the spectacle was horrifying. It took all of Psyche's courage to stand and wait as the huge boat got closer.
It was hard to discern Charon at first. There was certainly some shadowy figure operating the boat but he had some cloak over most of his features that melted into the darkness. There was one solitary lamp at the helm, shining like a pinprick amongst the shadows. Charon slowly drew nearer with every stroke from his strong arms.
Finally the boat docked. Charon strode ashore in one fluid movement and collected his due from the line of the dead. Only then did he turn and notice Psyche.
"So many with life still in them visiting the deadly realm," he muttered but he seemed more resigned than angry. "What are you doing here? You don't look like a hero."
"I'm not," Psyche said, opening her hands. The gold glittered in the lamp-light. Charon flicked back his cloak to get a closer look.
With his cloak down, Psyche had to admit he did not appear nearly as menacing. Charon was just an elderly-looking man, with a thick grey beard that tumbled all the way down to his midriff. Everything about him spoke of strength and hard labour; she caught the flicker of muscle around his shoulders and neck. His eyes were captivated by the gold she offered.
"One to take me over," she bargained. "One to bring me back after I have visited Queen Persephone on my errand. Please."
Charon plucked one of the gold pieces from her hand. Psyche clutched the other to her heart, fearing that if she gave them both up she would be left stranded on the opposite shore. Charon tucked the piece deep within his cloak and waved her aboard.
Psyche stood towards the back of the boat. Charon pushed them from the dock and they started a slow, gradual trip down the river to the mouth of it, where her destination would lie.
"Can't let you where the Shades are headed, young miss," Charon called out. "But I'll take you to the shore to Hades's House. The nymphs there can try and get you an audience with Our Lady."
"Th-thank you," Psyche stammered.
It was a journey filled with the sounds of rushing waters, moans, hushed conversations almost as substantial as echoes, the flicker of a solitary light that illuminated the edges of the ferryman as he bent and pulled to drive them onward. Psyche stood, her arms wrapped around herself, chanting encouragement to herself.
I can do this. I can do this. I will do this.
Psyche tried to remember the stories she'd told Orpheus of the new Queen of the Underworld. About how she'd been a young girl like herself, in love with a man she thought unattainable. How she'd figured out how to stay. How she was now married and happy, an immortal. Persephone could be a picture of Psyche's future.
But she was frightened by the darkness that swirled around her like the waters below. Already she was missing the sunlight, fresh air that wasn't filled with the taste of death and decay, the warmth of day. Psyche stared at her own feet, willing the boat on faster.
I can do this. I can do this. I will do this.
Finally, after what felt like a thousand terrified breaths, Charon called out to her.
"This is your stop, young miss," he yelled, bringing the boat closer to a black shore. "I will be back on my next round."
Psyche hurried on shore. To her surprise, there were trees as white as bone and flowers dotted the ground. A nymph strode towards her, quick and efficient. She was very beautiful. Psyche waved Charon a farewell and continued up the bank towards the nymph.
Daeira nodded.
"You seek audience with my Lady, the Queen," she told Psyche. Psyche nodded.
"Yes, please ma'am," Psyche was tongue-tied in front of the beautiful nymph. "It's important…"
"Your presence was expected some time ago," Daeira assured her, taking her under one arm to gently lead her towards the House of Hades. "The Queen is resting but she will see you shortly. I will have the item in question brought to her immediately."
"Wha..? Thank you," Psyche spluttered, choking off her rude questions. Daeira just gave her a grin.
"Athena sent word," she said by way of explanation. "She is impressed by you. Her uncle Hades generally listens to her, even if he does not always agree."
Psyche shivered.
"Will he be present?" she asked Daeira.
The nymph shrugged as they stepped onto the path that led to the House ahead.
"That will be for the Queen to decide," Daeira stated and they moved on in silence while Psyche's trepidation grew.