Persephone roamed the hillside until she’d gathered an entire bouquet from the nearest rosebushes. For some reason, the roses didn’t even have thorns. Their intoxicating smell made Persephone giddy. She traipsed a little farther away and spotted a whole field of violets.
“Oh, pretty!”
She wandered through the violets, picking the best ones and dropping the roses, because they now seemed pale in comparison.
Well, you can probably see where this is going, but Persephone was clueless. She didn’t realize Zeus was causing these flowers to grow—making each batch more colorful and fragrant than the last, leading Persephone farther and farther away from her chaperones.
So how could Zeus, a sky god, make flowers grow? Dunno. Best guess: he still had some pull with Gaea the Earth Mother, even though she was asleep. I’m thinking Zeus could occasionally summon her power to make things happen on the earth—maybe not huge things, like creating mountains. But making flowers grow? Not a big deal.
Persephone wandered from flower patch to flower patch, murmuring, “Ooh, pretty! Ooh, pretty!” as she picked her favorites.
Before she realized it, she was miles away from her sleeping nymph friends. She meandered into a secluded valley filled with hyacinths.
She was reaching down to pick a beautiful red one when the ground rumbled. A chasm opened at her feet, and four black horses pulling a massive chariot thundered into the sunlight. The driver was dressed in dark flowing robes. He wore iron gloves, with a huge sword at his side and a whip in his hand. His face was covered with an elaborate bronze helmet engraved with images of death and torture.
In retrospect, Hades wondered if it was such a good idea to wear his helmet of terror on a first date, but by then it was too late.
Persephone screamed and fell backward into the grass.
She should have run, but she was in shock. She couldn’t even fathom what was happening. Everything had always revolved around her, gone her way. She couldn’t be in danger. But she was pretty sure she hadn’t wished for a demonic-looking guy in a giant black chariot to come and trample her hyacinths.
Truth be told, she’d occasionally had daydreams about some handsome young man sweeping her off her feet. She and the nymphs had spent a lot of time giggling about that.
But this was not what she’d envisioned.
Hades took off his helm. His complexion was even paler than usual. He had a bad case of helmet-hair. He was sweating and nervous and blinking like he had something in his eyes.
“I am Hades,” he said in a squeaky voice. “I love you.”
Persephone screamed again, much louder.
Not knowing what else to do, Hades grabbed her arm, pulled her into the chariot, and spurred his horses. His dark ride disappeared into the earth. The chasm closed up behind him.
The only person who actually saw the kidnapping was the Titan Helios, way up in his chick-magnet sun chariot, because he had a great view and could see pretty much everything. But do you think he got on the phone to Olympus to report a kidnapping?
Nope. First, they didn’t have phones. Second, Helios didn’t like to get involved with godly dramas. He was a Titan, after all. He figured he was lucky just to have a job and not get thrown into Tartarus. Also, this kidnapping wasn’t the craziest thing he’d seen while crossing the sky every day. Those gods were always doing wild things. Man, the stories he could tell. Someday he should write a book.
So Helios continued on his way.
As for the nymphs who were supposed to be watching Persephone, they slept right through the abduction. The only person who heard Persephone screaming was the most unlikely person you could imagine.
In a cave on a nearby mountainside, a Titan named Hecate was minding her own business. Hecate was into magic and spooky nighttime crossroads and ghosts. She was sort of the first super-fan of Halloween. Normally she only left her cave after dark, so that day she was sitting inside reading spell books or whatever when she heard a girl screaming.
Hecate may have been a dark goddess of magic, but she wasn’t evil. She immediately ran to help. By the time she got to the meadow, the action was over.
Hecate’s magic was weak in the daytime. She could tell that the earth had opened and somebody had been snatched up in a chariot and dragged underground, but Hecate had no idea who was the kidnapper and who was the kidnapee.
Hecate wasn’t sure what to do. It wasn’t like she could call 911. Since she didn’t know the facts, she decided to go back to her cave and wait until nightfall, when she could cast better spells and hopefully get more information.
Meanwhile, the nymphs woke from their nap and went looking for Persephone, but she had literally vanished off the face of the earth. The nymphs were starting to panic by the time Demeter returned and found out her precious daughter was missing. I’m not sure what Demeter did to punish those nymphs, but it could not have been good.
Anyway, Demeter was freaked. She wandered around shouting for Persephone until her voice got hoarse. She asked everyone she met if they had seen anything.
For nine days Demeter didn’t change her clothes or take a bath. She didn’t eat or sleep. She did nothing but look for Persephone. She must have started searching in the wrong direction, because on the tenth day she finally circled back around and combed the area near Hecate’s cave.
Hecate heard Demeter calling for Persephone. Immediately the magic goddess put two and two together. Every night, Hecate had been trying to figure out what the abduction was all about, but her spells weren’t telling her anything. Some strong magic was at work, covering up the kidnapping. Hecate had a feeling a powerful god was behind it—or maybe more than one.
Hecate ran down to meet Demeter. She told the grain goddess about the screaming she’d heard, and her belief that some unknown god had kidnapped Persephone.
The distraught mom didn’t take the news well. She shrieked so loudly that all the plants within a five-mile radius withered and died. For hundreds of miles in each direction, every ear of corn on the Greek mainland exploded into popcorn.
“I will find whoever has taken her!” Demeter wailed. “I will murder him! Then I will murder him again!”
At this point, most folks would’ve backed away from the crazy lady, but Hecate felt bad for her.
“I’ll help you search tonight,” she told Demeter. “I’ve got torches, and I’m really good at seeing in the dark.”
They searched from dusk until dawn but had no luck.
Hecate went back to her cave to rest, promising to help again after nightfall, but Demeter couldn’t stop.
She stumbled on alone until evening fell and she came to a kingdom called Eleusis. At this point, even the immortal goddess was getting exhausted. She decided to visit the town, maybe rest her feet for a few minutes and mingle with the locals. Perhaps they had seen something or heard some news.
Demeter disguised herself as an old mortal woman. She made her way to the town’s central hearth, because that’s where strangers normally went when they wanted to ask the locals for assistance. A crowd had gathered in the square. A lady with fine robes and a golden crown was making some kind of speech. Being an intelligent goddess, Demeter thought: She must be the queen.
It turned out Queen Metaneira was there with her family and her household guards, offering sacrifices to the gods in celebration of the birth of her newest son, Demophoon. (Or maybe she was there to apologize to the gods for giving her son such a dumb name.) Anyway, when Demeter walked up, Queen Metaneira was just offering a prayer to Demeter. Even in Demeter’s desperate state of mind, that must’ve been sort of a rush, hearing somebody praying to her when they didn’t know she was in the crowd.
If it were me, I’d wait until the queen said, “O great Demeter—”
Then I’d jump out with a bunch of explosions and fireworks and say, “YOU CALLED?”
Probably a
good thing nobody has made me a god.
At any rate, Demeter figured this was a good omen. She waited for the queen to finish blessing her new baby, who was very cute. As the crowd broke up, Demeter made her way toward the queen; but Metaneira noticed her first.
“Old woman!” called the queen.
Demeter blinked. She looked around, wondering who Metaneira was talking to. Then she remembered she was in disguise.
“Oh, right! Yes, my queen!” Demeter said in her best old-lady voice.
The queen studied Demeter’s face and her ragged clothes. Even in disguise, Demeter must have looked weary. After ten days, she didn’t smell nearly as jasmine sweet as usual.
“I do not know you,” the queen decided. Her family and retainers gathered around.
Demeter wondered if she was going to have to turn into a hundred-foot-tall grain monster and scare them away, but the queen only smiled. “Welcome to Eleusis! We always greet strangers, because you never know when one of them might be a god in disguise, eh?”
The queen’s guards chuckled. They were probably thinking: Yeah, right. This old lady a goddess.
Demeter bowed. “Very wise, my queen. Very wise indeed.”
“Do you need a place to stay?” the queen asked. “Do you require food? How may we help you?”
Wow, Demeter thought. She’s serious.
After days of anxiety, running frantically around Greece looking for her daughter, Demeter was dumbstruck to receive such kindness. These puny mortals didn’t know her from any ordinary beggar—yet the queen herself took time to be nice to her, nicer in fact than most of Demeter’s fellow gods would have been.
Demeter felt so tired and emotionally spent that she burst into tears. “My daughter,” she sobbed. “My daughter has been stolen from me.”
The queen gasped. “What? This is an outrage!”
A handsome young man stepped forward and took Demeter’s hands. “Old woman, I am Triptolemus, the firstborn son of the queen. I pledge that I will help you find your daughter, however I can!”
Queen Metaneira nodded in agreement. “But come, dear guest. You are clearly exhausted. It won’t help your daughter if you kill yourself with weariness and hunger while trying to find her. Please stay in my palace tonight. Tell us your story. Rest and eat. In the morning, we will decide how best to help you.”
Demeter wanted to decline. She wanted to keep going. Since she was immortal, she obviously wasn’t in danger of dying. But she was tired. These people were nice. And after ten days on the road, her filthy clothes were starting to sprout types of mold and fungus even the plant goddess didn’t recognize.
She thanked the queen and accepted her hospitality.
After taking a nice hot bath and putting on some new clothes, Demeter felt much better. She joined the royal family for dinner and told them of her troubles, though she left out some minor details, such as being a goddess. She explained that her daughter had disappeared while on a day trip in the meadow with her friends. A woman who lived nearby had heard screaming, so it was clear her daughter had been kidnapped, but Demeter had no idea who had taken her or where she might be.
The royal family brainstormed some helpful suggestions: offering a reward, putting Persephone’s face on milk cartons, stapling MISSING posters around town. Finally Triptolemus had the winning idea.
“I will send riders in all four directions,” he said. “We will gather news and spread word of this abduction. Stay with us and rest a few days, honored guest. I know you are anxious, but this is the quickest way to search the countryside. When my riders return, we will know more.”
Again, Demeter wanted to protest. She was worried sick about her daughter, but she couldn’t think of a better idea, and she was grateful for this family’s hospitality. Also, she could use a few days’ rest.
Since her initial panic after the abduction, Demeter’s mood had started to shift to cold determination. In her heart, she knew Persephone was still out there—captured, but unharmed. Her motherly instincts told her so. No matter how long it took, Demeter would find her. And when she got her hands on the kidnapper…oh, her vengeance would be terrible. She would cover him in fertilizer, cause barley to sprout from all his pores, and laugh at his terrified screams as he transformed into the world’s largest Chia Pet.
Demeter smiled at Prince Triptolemus. “Thank you for your kindness. I accept your offer.”
“Excellent!”
“Goo,” said the newborn child Demophoon, gurgling contentedly in the queen’s arms.
Demeter gazed at the baby boy. Her heart filled with warmth and nostalgia. It seemed like just last century Persephone had been that small!
“Let me repay your kindness,” Demeter told the queen. “I’m an excellent nursemaid, and I know what it’s like being a new mom. You could use some sleep! Let me take care of your baby tonight. I promise to keep him safe. I’ll bless him with special charms against evil so he’ll grow up to be a strong, handsome hero!”
I’ve never been a mom, but I think I’d be pretty suspicious if some old lady off the street offered to watch my baby for the night. As you can probably tell, though, Queen Metaneira was a kindhearted, trusting person. She felt terrible for this old woman who had just lost her daughter. Also, it was true that Metaneira hadn’t been sleeping much since the baby came along.
“I would be honored,” the queen said, handing Demophoon to Demeter.
That night, the goddess rocked the baby by the fire. She sang him nursery songs from Mount Olympus, like “The Itsy-Bitsy Satyr” and “I’m a Little Cyclops.” She fed Demophoon nectar, the drink of the gods, mixed with his regular milk. She whispered powerful blessings to keep him safe.
I will make you immortal, little one, Demeter thought. It’s the least I can do for your kind mother. I will make you so strong no one will ever abduct you the way my poor daughter was abducted.
When the child dozed off, Demeter placed him in the blazing fireplace.
You’re probably thinking: Ah! She roasted the little dude?
No, it’s cool. The kid was fine.
Demeter’s magic protected him, so the flames only felt warm and pleasant. As Demophoon slept, the fire began burning away his mortal essence, starting the process that would turn him into a god.
In the morning, Queen Metaneira couldn’t believe how much her baby had grown. He’d put on several pounds overnight. His eyes were brighter and his grip was stronger.
“What did you feed him?” the queen asked in amazement.
Demeter chuckled. “Oh, nothing special, but I did promise to look out for him. He’s going to be a fine young man!”
At breakfast, Triptolemus announced that his riders had already left. He expected news in the next day or two. Demeter was anxious. She was half-tempted to keep traveling on her own, but she agreed to wait for the riders to return.
That night, Demeter again took charge of the baby Demophoon. She fed him more ambrosia and laid him down to sleep in fire. In the morning, she was pleased to see that he was immortalizing nicely.
“One more night ought to do it,” she decided.
When she gave the child back to the queen at breakfast, Metaneira wasn’t so thrilled. Her boy suddenly looked like a four-month-old rather than a newborn. She wondered what kind of magic Demeter was using, and whether it had passed the safety test for babies. Maybe the old lady was slipping some kind of growth hormone into Demophoon’s milk. In a few more days, the kid might have six-pack abs and hairy armpits.
Still, the queen was too polite to yell at her guest or throw accusations with no proof. She kept her doubts to herself. Secretly she hoped the riders would come back today, and the old lady would be on her way.
Unfortunately, the riders didn’t return.
“I’m sure they’ll be back in the morning,” Triptolemus promised. “Then we should have more informati
on.”
Demeter agreed to stay one more night. This time, when dinner was finished, she took the baby from the queen without even asking, just assuming it was okay. Metaneira’s heart hammered in her rib cage. She watched Demeter carry Demophoon back to her guest room, and the queen tried to convince herself everything was fine. The old lady was harmless. She would not turn her newborn son into a ’roid-raging monster overnight.
But the queen couldn’t sleep.
She worried that she was going to miss her baby’s entire childhood. She would wake up in the morning and see this big bulky three-year-old with facial hair running toward her, shouting in a deep voice, “Hey, Mom! What up?”
Finally Metaneira couldn’t stand it anymore. She crept down the hall to Demeter’s room to check on the baby.
The bedroom door was open just a crack. Firelight glowed at the sill. Metaneira heard the old woman singing a lullaby inside, but the baby wasn’t making a sound. Hopefully that was good. He was sleeping peacefully. But what if he was in danger?
Without knocking, she opened the door…then screamed at the top of her lungs. The old lady was sitting calmly in a rocking chair, watching baby Demophoon burn in the fire!
Metaneira charged to the fireplace. She snatched the baby out of the flames, heedless of how much it burned her hands and arms. The baby started wailing, unhappy about waking up from a nice warm nap.
Metaneira wheeled on Demeter, ready to chew her face off, but the old lady yelled at her first.
“What are you THINKING?” Demeter shouted, rising from her chair with her fists clenched. “Why did you do that? You’ve ruined everything!”
Metaneira was stunned speechless. Meanwhile, Prince Triptolemus and several guards stumbled into the room to investigate the screaming.
“What’s wrong?” Triptolemus demanded.
“Arrest this woman!” Metaneira shrieked, clutching her baby in her blistered arms. “She tried to kill Demophoon! He was burning in the fireplace!”
The guards surged forward, but Triptolemus yelled, “WAIT!”