“I’m deeply flattered.”
Morpheus led her away from the room of wishing wells and out of the palace. Standing under an awning, Helen looked across the palace grounds and saw a great tree that stood alone in the middle of a vast plain.
“Beyond that tree is the land of the dead. Stand under the branches and tell Hades that you will not try to capture his queen. If you mean it, he will not hinder your descents into the Underworld.”
“How will he know if I mean it?” Helen asked, surprised. “Is Hades a Falsefinder?”
“Yes, in a way. He can see into people’s hearts—a necessary talent for one who would rule the Underworld. The one who would rule must be able to judge the souls of the dead and decide where those souls are to be sent.” Morpheus’s answer came with a quixotic little smile.
“What?” Helen asked, bemused by the quirky look on his face. But Morpheus would only shake his head and smile to himself in answer to her question. He walked her across the grounds, right up to the edge of the arching branches of the great tree, and turned to her.
“When you are standing directly under the tree, no matter what you do, don’t look up into the branches,” he warned solemnly.
“Why not?” Helen said, dreading the answer. “What’s in them?”
“Nightmares. Pay them no mind and they can’t hurt you.” He gently released her hand. “I have to leave you now.”
“Really?” Helen asked with a fearful glance over her shoulder at the nightmare tree. Morpheus nodded his head and started to back away. “But how do I get home?” she asked before he could get too far.
“All you have to do is wake up. And Helen,” he called out, almost like he was warning her, “in the coming days, try to remember that dreams do come true, but they don’t come easily.”
Morpheus disappeared into the blending of stars and shimmering lights on the dark lawn, and without him Helen felt very alone. She faced the nightmare tree and balled her fists to steel herself, knowing that the sooner she got it over with, the better. Keeping her eyes down, she strode under the branches.
Immediately, Helen felt a mass of moving things above her. There were strange squeals and she could hear the scratching of claws across bark as the shadowy creatures ran around. The branches would rustle, then shake, then creak ominously as the nightmares jumped up and down on them in an ever-increasing frenzy to catch her attention.
It took all of Helen’s nerve to not look up. For a moment, she felt one lean down right next to her face. She could sense its presence loom close, staring at her. Helen told herself not to look and gritted her teeth to keep them from chattering with fear. Taking a deep breath, she faced the Underworld.
“Hades! I promise I won’t try to free Persephone,” Helen yelled across the barren land.
While she hated the idea of abandoning anyone, Helen knew what she had to do. Persephone was one princess who was going to have to figure out how to get out of the castle tower without a knight in shining armor to rescue her. That didn’t mean that Helen had to like it.
“But I strongly suggest you do the right thing and let her go yourself,” she added.
The nightmares fell silent. Helen heard footfalls in front of her as someone approached, but kept her eyes on the dusty ground of the Underworld side of the tree in case it was a trick.
“What do you know of right and wrong?” asked a surprisingly gentle voice.
Helen dared to raise her eyes, sensing that the nightmares had fled. She saw a very tall, robust figure standing in front of her. The clinging shadows that chased around him were like large, grasping hands. Helen had seen this darkness before. It was the same malevolent pall created by Shadowmasters. It dispersed and Helen could see Hades, the lord of the dead.
He was cloaked in a simple black toga. A cowl obscured his eyes and under that, the cheek plates of his shiny black helmet covered all of his face but the bottom of his nose and his mouth. Helen remembered from her studies that the helmet was called the Helm of Darkness and it made Hades invisible at will.
Her eyes quickly skipped down from what she couldn’t see to take in the rest of him. Hades was commandingly large and he moved and stood with easy grace. His toga was draped elegantly over his bare, muscled arm, and his lips were full, flushed red, and quite beautiful. Although his face was mostly hidden, the rest of him looked healthy and youthful—and unbelievably sensuous. Helen couldn’t take her eyes off him.
“What can one so young know of justice?” he prompted while Helen gawked.
“Not much, I guess,” she finally answered in a wavering voice, still trying to process the enigmatic god in front of her. “But even I know it’s wrong to keep a woman locked away from the world. Especially in this day and age.”
Surprisingly, the full mouth parted in something that was almost like a laugh, and Helen relaxed. The gesture made him seem approachable and human.
“I’m not the monster you think I am, niece,” he said sincerely. “I agreed to honor my oath and be the lord of the dead, but this place is entirely against my wife’s nature. She can only survive here a few months at a time.”
Helen knew this was true. His position as lord of the dead had been forced on him by chance. Hades had drawn the short straw, and while his brothers claimed the sea and the sky as their realms, he had been doomed to the Underworld. The one place the love of his life could not survive for long. It was tragic, a terrible irony, but it was still his choice to imprison Persephone—regardless of how bad a hand the Fates had dealt him.
“Then why do you force her to stay here at all, if you know it causes her pain?”
“We all need joy in our lives, a reason to keep going. Persephone is my only joy, and when we are together I am hers. You are young, but I think you know how it feels to be separated from the one you love because of your obligations.”
“I am sorry for you both,” Helen said sadly. “But I still think you should let her go. Allow her the dignity of choosing for herself if she wants to be here with you or not.”