Hope for the Underworld

11

Their routine in the next few days seemed to revert to that from before Hermes's visit; Hades was busy during the day and even when they met for their evening meal, he seemed to be preoccupied.

She took it as a sign that he didn't welcome any further familiarity between them, despite the pleasant time they'd shared. It was a bit confusing, because she started to believe that they could become friends after all, despite their differences.

Faithful to his promise, Hades presented Cora with a large desk and any writing paraphernalia she may require. She did not want to spend all of her time in the same room, so she opted for a separate study, next to his own. Yet, any hopes of meeting him there were fruitless; whatever he did during those long hours, he did somewhere else... And quite possibly, with someone else.

This thought prickled.

Until now, she had not realised that she'd grown to like his company so much. Or, if she did, she refused to acknowledge that any sentiment was involved. She kept repeating her mantra of brain injury to stop herself from developing any feelings towards the place or its owner.

She hoped that writing would distract her. Yet, she couldn't come up with anything worth putting down to paper. All the ideas that popped into her mind were ludicrous stories of fantasy and romance...

*

She stood up with a sigh. Her favourite pastime wasn't working! She could request alcohol to loosen her up, but after the last debacle she doubted that the shadows would comply.

With sudden decisiveness, she left the study and went in search of Hades. She suspected he might be at the Great Hall, performing his official duties as the Lord Receiver.

It had been a long while since she'd ventured anywhere in that direction, but she vaguely remembered the way she had been marched there, when she'd first arrived. How long ago, she couldn't be certain, but it seemed like eons; Hades had told her the time passed differently in the Underworld.

After a long trek and several dead ends, she thought she recognised the corridor leading away from the palace. She reached for the door handle, but suddenly the shadows swirled in front of her.

'Lady, you should not be here... You should return to your rooms.'

She hesitated, but only for a moment. 'Why? What's there?' she questioned.

'This way leads to the Hall of Judges,' answered the whispery voice she'd learned to like and respect. 'All departed souls come there for their sentence.'

'Am I not allowed there?' she continued with her inquiry.

'They are but shadows.'

'Are they dangerous?'

'No. But they are... dead.'

'I have already been there, the first time I arrived, so what difference does it make if I go again?' she persuaded.

'Lord Receiver... will disapprove.'

'Did he specifically instruct you not to let me in?'

They hesitated briefly. 'No...'

'He will not even know I was there. I... wish to see what he does.'

'Lady...'

She knew she was winning this battle. 'I will disguise myself and he will never know,' she promised. 'And if he does, I will tell him I deceived you.'

'Lady...'

'May I pass?'

The shadows swirled doubtfully. 'Lady... We exist to serve...