But back to the story at hand. Erianna had just been ripped from me yet again, and Lia and Liv had taken leave of me; Michael was doomed to the Underworld with Erianna until James released them both for the summer.
Resigned to my fate as exhausted mediator, I packed a small overnight bag and prepared for my voyage to the Underworld. I slept on the train and dismounted with trepidation.
As I approached the Styx, Charon greeted me with a tired look on his features.
"Back again so soon, old friend?"
I laughed dryly as I continued to cross toward him.
"It would appear so. Was he particularly cross when he came through?"
"No more so than usual. The wife, though..."
I raised my eyebrows and motioned for him to continue. He looked around with unease and shifted his weight before lowering his voice to speak.
"They've been arguing all day. She's been screaming at him. He won't let anyone in to see him—not even Tartarus. He's put the screen up. You're welcome to pass the Styx if you'd like, Hermes, but I don't think it'll do you much good."
"Son of a bitch," I muttered, and dug in my pocket.
After a moment, I placed a coin in Charon's palm and he granted me entrance. I spotted James and Erianna, arguing loudly, and strode towards them both; but Charon was right, James had placed the screen up, which allowed me to see and hear him, but kept me invisible and prevented me from being heard, no matter how loud I yelled.
I stood as close as I could to them without coming in contact with the screen; it was unnervingly hot to the touch, and I didn't much fancy being burned in the name of breaking up their imminent divorce.
"In the coldest time of year," Erianna hissed, "why is it so hot down here? This isn't... It's not right, it's not natural..."
James stepped closer to her, bouncing on the balls of his feet, his eyes shining and wide and manic.
"You were gone, Eri, and I missed you so terribly, I had to do something to keep myself occupied. I did this for you, I built this foundry for you, this heat is... it's—it's my desire, for you—"
Erianna scoffed and turned away from James, who was following her like a kicked puppy; it wouldn't take much to change that, to switch from loving to furious, I'd seen it before and he was a sight to behold when he was truly enraged. In her fervor, I caught sight of a glint of metal, metal and stones, a knife, a knife, and what was she doing?
"And what's this, James?" She gestured with the blade to the neon lights that cast a terrible glow across the domain spread before her. "What is this? You... You tore down my fields. My trees and my flowers. You got rid of my pomegranates."
"Kore, darling," he purred, catching up to her quickly. He wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his chin in the crook of her neck. "I did this for you, can't you see? I made this, all of this, all for—for you, for us—"
"Don't touch me," Erianna hissed, and whipped around to face him, the knife pointed at his throat. He took a step back and raised his hands defensively.
"Let's not do anything rash, my love," James said smoothly, and though the knife was in Erianna's grip, the situation was still in James's control—his territory, his rules. "I know it's barren now, but there are things to be built, there's work to be done. It's desolate now, but it's... it's my despair, it's as empty as I feel when you're gone..."
