The Shadow Prince

“I don’t know which version of the Persephone story is the correct one,” I say. “Whether she was stolen into the Underrealm by Hades or if she chose to go with him to be his queen, but I do know that he was devoted to her, and we Underlords are the proof. Persephone’s mother, the Terra Lady, or Demeter, as your book calls her, wasn’t too happy about Persephone and Hades’s union. As goddess of the Overrealm, the mortal world, she was the one who gifted the harvest to the fields and fertility to the womb. She cursed her own daughter, so Hades and Persephone would never be able to have children. Hades couldn’t stand the sadness that overtook his wife, and so he decided to create children for her. His first attempt went horribly wrong. You’ve seen the results of that.”

Her mouth pops open. “You mean that thing that attacked Joe? That was supposed to be a child?”

I nod. “It’s called a Keres. They’re an experiment gone very wrong, and certainly not the bouncing little baby Persephone had wanted.”

“I’m sure that came as quite the surprise.”

“Have you ever heard the story of Pandora’s Box?”

“Yeah. A woman was given a box and told not to open it. But her curiosity got the better of her, and she opened the box only to accidentally release horrible evils on the world.”

“Close,” I say. “But in the real version, the box is actually a prison, and the things inside are the Keres. We call it the Pits. Short for Pithos.”

“So Hades imprisoned his first creations?”

“He had no choice. They were monsters. There are different kinds of Keres. Some of them are reapers—like the one we destroyed—and he used to use them to help collect the souls of the dead on the battlefield. But even those proved to be too bloodthirsty—instead of going after only the dead, they started to attack the wounded also. There’s one thing everyone who was attacked in Olympus Hills had in common. They were bleeding. Wounded, I guess you could say. Even if it was only a paper cut. Eventually, the reapers were locked up, too. You can probably imagine why.”

She nods. “So then Hades, having botched it the first time, still decided to try again?”

“He was more careful this time. He created the Underlords after his own image, out of mud from the river Styx, fire from the heart of the Underrealm, and shadows from the shades of the dead. Persephone herself breathed life into the first two. Twin sons named Life and Death. They were gifted with the Helm of Hades—the ability to be nearly invisible in the dark—and the fire that burns in their eyes. The twins were the light of their lives.”

Daphne shakes her shoulders like something has made her feel cold. “It’s that nearly invisible in the dark thing that really creeps me out. You shouldn’t have followed me backstage at my audition like that. You freaked me out so much, I almost couldn’t sing.”

“What are you talking about?” I ask her. “What auditions? I never followed you backstage anywhere.”

“After we met in the grove, didn’t you follow me to the school? There was some sort of invisible presence with me backstage. Wasn’t that you?”

I shake my head. “I didn’t follow you to the school.”

Her eyes widen as she looks at me to make sure I’m not lying. “I did hear a weird hissing sound, like before the Keres attacked. Maybe that’s what followed me—but wouldn’t it have been attacking Pear at that time?” Her shoulders convulse again. “And I could have sworn I saw your eyes flashing in the shadows of the auditorium. Someone was watching me.”

“I swear to you, Daphne, I went straight back to Simon’s place after the grove. If someone was watching you, it wasn’t me.”

But the question that haunts me is: who was it?

As far as I knew, Dax had been with Simon at that time, and Garrick had been sick and locked in his room at Simon’s mansion.

Could there be another Underlord in Olympus Hills that I don’t know about?

“Where does the lightning come from?” Daphne asks like she’s eager to get off the disturbing topic of invisible people following her. “I thought that was a Zeus thing?”

“It is. The Underlords were gifted with the ability to throw lightning bolts from the Sky God himself. But that’s where the story takes a darker turn. You see, Hades was already in trouble with Zeus for creating the Keres by accident, and the Sky God fancied himself the only god who was allowed to create new life out of the elements. So he stole the twins and claimed them as his own creations—his own children—and even gave them his lightning bolts as supposed proof of his paternity.”

“I can imagine Hades and Persephone were not too happy about that.”

“To say the least. Hades opened the gates to the underworld and unleashed a couple of the reaper Keres to bring back his children from the Skyrealm. They kidnapped Death and brought him home, but Life wasn’t so lucky. He’d fallen and scraped his knee earlier in the day, and the Keres, unable to restrain themselves, tore the poor child apart.”

“That’s terrible.”

“Not as terrible as the war that followed. It went on for hundreds of years, trashing everything in between the Skyrealm and the Underrealm—namely, the mortal world. Hades caused volcanoes to erupt, sending ash and fire into the sky, and then Zeus would retaliate. Did you know that almost every culture in your world has a legend of a great flood that almost destroyed the earth? That’s what happened when the Sky God opened the heavens in an effort to drown out the Underrealm. He failed, luckily, because Hades was smart enough to lock the gates. Nothing living can get through them when they’re locked.”

“Rain is living? Well, it has a song, so I guess that would probably mean it’s alive.”

“A song?” It’s my turn to sound surprised.

“Everything has an inner song. Everything living, that is. I can hear it. You probably think that sounds crazy. Most people do.”

“I’d say it sounds far less addled than ‘hello, I’m an underworld prince and I’m here to take you to live with me in the land of the dead’ and all.”

A smile on my behalf cracks her lips for the first time since she learned the truth about me. It’s fleeting and small, but I see it out of the corner of my eye before it goes away.

“How did the war end?” she asks. “I mean, the world is still here, so I imagine it stopped.”