Page 65 of Going to Hell
“You want to see this place?”
The surprise in his voice made me hesitate. Why wouldn’t I want to see where I was going? What hid in the darkness? As soon as I had that thought, I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep walking forward blindly.
“Yes. I want to see.”
Nearby, a torch burst into flames, illuminating the carved wooden stand that held it. The figure of a woman with her head thrown back and mouth open in a silent scream painted the picture of a person in torment. She held the torch out like she was using it to ward off whatever was scaring her. I frowned at the tears etched into her wooden cheeks then stepped closer as I took in her eyes and nose.
It looked exactly like me.
I turned my head as more torches exploded to life. Those not along the outskirts of the vast cavern were all held by reproductions of me in various poses. Running for my life. Cowering in fear. Groveling on my knees. Abject terror was carved into each expression, and my stomach churned at the sight of them all.
There were no tables or racks of scrolls to fill the vastness. Just the torch holders and stone until the other side, the direction in which all my replicas faced. There, a large marble carving of Hades jutted from the wall. Several stories high, he towered over the smaller statues of me, his angry glare seeming to condemn them all.
“What is this place?” I asked, feeling Hades’ gaze on me.
“The Throne Room.”
“It’s horrible,” I said without thinking.
“It is what you make of it.”
He continued leading me forward, and it wasn’t until we’d crossed half the expanse that I noticed the tall, ornately carved onyx chair between the feet of his statue. There was another smaller chair beside it, carved out of barbed vines.
I glanced between Hades’ hard expression and the chair and hoped the chair was for decoration only.
Something rested at the base of the smaller seat. At first, I thought it was a rug, but then it moved, lifting its head and watching our approach. When we drew closer, a woman rose to her feet, covered only by a shiny black fur. She looked entirely human from her long legs to her long blonde hair, but I knew better than to believe that.
“Father,” she whispered, her eyes wide with fear.
“Zotera,” Hades said.
He released my hand and turned to trap my face between his palms. His warm, brown eyes held mine for several heartbeats, and I could feel myself warming under his scrutiny.
“You will be here when I return.”
“Wait, you’re leaving me?”
He exhaled slowly, his gaze sweeping over my face. Then he released me and strode away.
“Do not harm her,” he said over his shoulder.
Frozen, I stared at his retreating back and slowly turned to face the woman he’d left me with. Her pale cherub face would have melted many hearts if not for the angry scars marring her cheeks. Her eyes swept over me, and her lips curved into a welcoming smile.
“Hello, Mother.”
CHAPTERFOURTEEN
I avertedmy gaze and struggled to think through my panic. Mother? Zotera obviously thought I was Persephone as well. And after seeing the statues, I could understand the confusion. I didn’t merely look similar to Persephone; I lookedexactlylike her.
That alone was incredibly disturbing. But, what I found even more disturbing was me looking five years younger than the woman who was supposed to be my visual-twin’s daughter. Unlike their children, the gods obviously didn’t age.
“I am happy to see you again.” Zotera tearfully descended the steps in a rush. “You said you would never return.”
The black furs she wore swished to the side, showing her nakedness underneath with each step she took toward me.
“I’m not your mother,” I said quickly, hoping to prevent a false reunion as much as I hoped that Hades’ warning not to harm me would be enough to keep me safe.
She abruptly stopped, still a healthy distance away, and flinched as if I’d hit her.
