She was so angry, she couldn’t think straight, and she was happy to feel this way now because she knew when she calmed down, all she would feel was crushing sadness.
She had given everything to Hades—her body, her heart, her dreams.
She’d been so stupid.
Charm, she rationalized. He must have charmed her.
Her thoughts quickly spiraled out of control after that as she recalled memories from the last six months. Each one brought more pain than the last. She couldn’t understand why Hades had gone through so much trouble to orchestrate this plan. He’d fooled her. He’d fooled so many people.
What about Sybil?
The oracle had told her their colors were intertwined. That she and Hades were meant to be together.
Perhaps she’s just a really bad oracle.
Now close to tears, she almost didn’t hear the rustling of grass beside her. Persephone turned to see movement a short distance from her. Her heart stuttered out of control, and she stumbled back, tripping on something hidden in the grass. She fell, and whatever was in the grass charged toward her.
She closed her eyes and covered her face only to feel a cold, wet nose press against her hand.
She opened her eyes to find one of Hades three dogs staring at her.
She laughed and sat up, petting Cerberus on the head. His tongue rolled out of his mouth and she found that what she’d tripped over had been his red ball.
“Where are your brothers?” she asked, scratching behind his ear.
The dog responded by licking her face. Persephone pushed the dog away and got to her feet, scooping up the ball.
“You want this?”
Cerberus sat back on his haunches but could barely stay still.
“Fetch!” Persephone said, throwing the ball.
The hound took off, and she watched him for a few moments before continuing toward the base of the mountain.
The closer she got, the ground beneath her feet became uneven, rocky, and bare. A short time later, Cerberus joined her again, ball in his mouth. He didn’t drop it at her feet but looked ahead at the mountains.
“Can you lead me to the Well of Reincarnation?” Persephone asked.
The dog looked at her and then took off.
She followed—up a steep incline and into the heart of the mountains. It was one thing to see these landforms from a distance, another to walk among them and beneath the halo of black, swirling clouds. Lightening flashed and thunder shook the earth. She continued to follow Cerberus, fearful of losing sight of the dog or worse, that he would be hurt.
“Cerberus!” she called as he disappeared around another turn in the maze.
Persephone wiped the back of her hand over her forehead. It was slick with sweat. It was warm in the mountains and growing hotter.
Rounding the corner, she hesitated, noticing a small stream at her feet—but this stream was fire. Unease trickled down her spine. She heard Cerberus barking ahead and jumped over the stream of fire only to find the dog at the edge of a cliff where a river of raging flame roiled below. Its heat was almost unbearable, and Persephone suddenly realized where she’d wandered.
Tartarus.
This was the River Phlegethon.
“Cerberus, find a way out!” she commanded.
The dog barked as if accepting her direction and raced toward a set of stairs carved into the mountains. They were sleek and steep and disappeared into the folds above.
But they would take her higher into the mountains.