Persephone
I memorized every detail, searching for something that would help me identify this place to the cops. I couldn’t think of a single building in Athens this tall. Had he taken me to another city? How long had I been out? I checked the time on my phone again: four-forty-four.
Must be broken. It would be more surprising if it had made it through the entire ordeal unharmed, but as I scrolled through the screen everything seemed responsive.
I took slow, careful steps, knowing in a cavernous hall like this my footsteps would be amplified. I didn’t see any light fixtures and wondered how the corridors were illuminated. The hall was neither dim nor bright; the light just…existed.
I heard raised voices. That sounds like Mom! I ran toward the voices and paused outside a half open door, peeking in uncertainly.
“…should have just let Boreas have her?” Hades’ voice boomed through the small room, echoing off the wooden wall panels.
My mother—I paused; it wasn’t my mother. It was an image of her, bleached of color. Her form wavered, a red tapestry becoming visible behind her, then solidified. Her lips were tight in anger.
“Of course not! But what you did was—”
“Nothing short of a miracle, Demeter. Perhaps you should be thanking me for bothering.”
“It’s why you bothered that frightens me, Hades.” She gave an exasperated wave of her hands. “What you did was—” She broke off with a sigh. “You could have just sent for me. I could have—”
“Done absolutely nothing,” Hades snapped. The soft glow of the lamps played over his face. The whole room was tinted red from the lampshades. “You barely have the power to swat a fly.”
“But you—”
“She would be better off dead!” Hades thundered. “Don’t you get that? None of you saw Oreithyia after he had finished with her, just me! I practically had to drown her in the Lethe to wash those memories away; there is nothing left of her! Is that the fate you would prefer for your daughter, Demeter? Because that’s what would have happened had I sent for you instead.”
“Am I…dead?” My voice was shaking as I walked into the room. Silence descended on the room as they both stared at me. I felt like an insect being examined in a jar. I took a deep breath and straightened my back so I was standing at my full height, clenching my fists so my trembling hands didn’t give away my fear. I raised my chin and met Hades’ stare with what I hoped was a bored expression on my face, but what probably looked more like a deer caught in the headlights.
“Persephone,” my mom breathed, her face relaxing. “Thank goodness you’re all right.”
I tried to tear my gaze from Hades to look at her, but it was hard. I’d never seen anyone that looked like him. Movie stars, models, they paled in comparison, and as terrified as I was that I’d died, I couldn’t seem to look away from him.
Seriously? He might as well be the devil. With that comforting thought I jerked my head to the side and looked at my mother. “Am I dead?” I asked again, suppressing the panicked edge in my voice. Being dead would explain a lot.
“You’re not dead.” Hades spoke, yanking my attention back to him like a rubber band. His lips curved in a sardonic smile. I got the distinct impression that he’d enjoyed my struggle to look away. “Thanks to my intercession.”
I narrowed my eyes in disgust. So he was one of those guys. “So I’m supposed to thank you for knocking me out and dragging me here against my will? Where am I, and how do I get home?”
“Hey, I saved you!” Hades looked back and forth between my mother and me. “No good deed, huh?”
“It didn’t feel like I was being rescued, it felt like an abduction! You kissed me!”
“About that…” My mother glowered at Hades.
“Can it, Demeter. That was the only way to get her down here and you know it.”
“Where is here?”
“You’re in the Underworld.” Mom’s voice was gentle. “But you’re not dead. Hades has made it possible for you to travel between planes.”
“Oh,” I said, nodding like I understood. “Can I go home now?” I glanced at Hades and added a grudging “Please?”
“You may come and go as you please, but I don’t think that would be wise. You’ve caught the attention of the god Boreas. He attempted to subdue you, but I was able to intervene. Next time you may not be so lucky.”
“Next time?” I didn’t like the sound of that.
“Boreas isn’t easily dissuaded once he sees something he wants,” Mom explained. “He’s the God of Winter, so his power is at its peak right now. But we can take precautions to keep you safe until winter has passed.”
“The best precaution you can take is to leave her with me,” Hades interjected. “No god can come after her in the Underworld.”
“Can’t you do something?” I asked my mother. “I mean, you’re the Goddess of Nature, right? Doesn’t that kind of give you reign over winter?”
“His domain is over the elements of winter, not the life that persists during his reign. It is best when we work in harmony, but balance has long since been lost. Winter destroys life. Death always has more followers than life.” She glanced meaningfully at Hades. “People are frightened by it. For our purposes, fear translates to worship. Boreas was difficult to control when there was balance—”
“Difficult!” Hades snorted. “That’s an understatement, to say the least.”
“So he’s done something like this before?” I asked.
“To an Athenian princess of uncommon beauty called Oreithyia,” Hades recounted in clipped tones. “Though she paled in comparison to you.”
“Well, of course, she was human,” my mother said.
I blinked in surprise. Was that disdain in her voice? I was so shocked by her disgust for the species I most identified with I almost missed the rest of the story.
“She was dancing by the Ilissos River when Boreas descended upon the clearing, freezing everything in his wake,” Hades continued. “He captured her within a cloud for his own personal use until her death months later. He dumped her back into the Ilissos like nothing had happened. You, my dear, would not have the luxury of dying.”
“Oh,” I whispered. I looked to my mother who was staring at Hades with an unreadable expression on her face.
“She can stay in the Underworld,” Mom said, “each winter until Boreas either moves on or she comes into her powers.”
“So be it,” Hades agreed.
“Wait a minute!” I protested. “Don’t I get any say in this?”
“Not really,” Mom replied. “As your mother—”
“You lied to me my entire life, and now you’re playing the mother card?”
“I said you were welcome to leave at any time, and I meant it.” Hades’ voice rose to drown ours out. “No, Demeter.” He cut off my mother’s protest. “I’m not holding her here against her will.”
“Thank you.” I tried not to sound surprised.
His electric blue eyes seared into me. “Before you make a decision, let me show you something.”
“No.” Mom’s voice was stern.
“I won’t sugarcoat this, Demeter. She needs to make an educated choice.”
A thin dark-haired girl entered the room as if by some unspoken signal. She was leading a hunched, trembling figure carefully.
“Oreithyia.” Hades sounded gentle. “I’d like you to meet someone.”
The small figure looked up, and I barely stopped myself from gasping.
“Hello.” The word was slow and careful, as though she wasn’t sure of the language. Her face was void of emotion, and seemed to change as I watched. Her features shifted in and out of place as if they couldn’t quite align themselves. After a moment, she resembled me. The blank expression on my face had me shuddering.
“Oreithyia,” Hades murmured, “can you tell Persephone a little about yourself?”
Her empty eyes met his. “Myself?” She tested the word then stared at the floor, face blank. “I’m Oreithyi
a?”
“Yes.”
She smiled at him, her face shifting to his features. If Hades was bothered by the unusual reflection he didn’t show it. “I like to dance.” A smile lit her face. I saw a glimpse of the beauty she had been, then her vision clouded and her features began to shift.
Hades nodded, and the dark-haired girl led her away.
“Eternity, do you understand? For her, an eternity of that was better than any trace of a memory of her time with Boreas.”
I felt sick to my stomach. “I have conditions.” My voice was weak and brittle.
Hades raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t you the entitled one.”
I gathered my confidence and looked at my mother. “We aren’t moving.”
“Pirithous—”
“Is mortal, and you are a goddess. Do whatever you have to, but I’m not leaving Athens.”
Her eyes glittered in challenge. “I don’t know what you think has changed in the last twenty-four hours, but I am still your mother. You’d better modify that tone, young lady.”
I glared at the floor, unwilling to meet her eyes.
She waited until she was sure I wouldn’t object before continuing. “I will do everything in my power to ensure we can stay in Athens.” I looked up at her, and she gave me a small smile. “I know you’re angry with me right now, but you can’t believe I want to see you forced to leave our home.”
“Thank you,” I said, relieved. “This solution is short-term at best. I want to be able to defend myself from any future threats.”
“Your powers won’t develop until—”
“I know, but I want to know how to use them when they do. In the meantime, some self-defense training—”
Hades laughed. “That wouldn’t make a dent against Boreas.”
“It slowed you down.” I motioned to the scratches decorating his angular face.
“I wasn’t trying to hurt you.”
“Whatever,” I said, irritated. “Pirithous is human. So are all those other creepy guys…” I trailed off when I saw my mother’s alarmed look. “In any case—” I made an effort to inject respect into my tone “—I’m sure you’ve got no shortage of dead ninja warriors or something down here. I don’t expect to turn into some type of gladiator, but I want to be able to protect myself.”
I saw a glimmer in his eyes when he nodded. I’d like to think it was respect, but most likely it was amusement. “Anything else?”
I stared at him in surprise. The scratches were gone! Seriously, Persephone? That’s what surprises you about this whole situation? I had a point. I was in the Underworld, talking to a god. Self-healing wounds shouldn’t really be a surprise at this point.
“I’d like to know who is still around…topside?” I shot my mom a questioning look. How pathetic was it that I didn’t know what to call my own realm? She nodded at me, so I continued. “I don’t want to accidentally get anyone else’s attention when I go home.”
“That can be arranged. Is that all?”
“Um…” I felt dumb asking, but it was important. “How long is winter?”
“From the winter solstice to the spring equinox.”
I gave him a blank look and he sighed heavily. “This year it’s December twenty-first to March twenty-first. Midnight to noon.”
“Three months. I can do that.” My head snapped up as a thought occurred to me. “Time runs the same here as it does in the living realm, right?”
Hades gave me an incredulous look. “Beg pardon?”
“When I go back it won’t be like thousands of years have passed, right?”
He raised his eyebrows and shook his head. “Um…no, no danger of that.”
“And he can’t come down here? You’re sure?”
“Unless he dies or is invited by me. He’s no threat to you, either way.”
“So he can’t do anything to hurt me down here?”
Hades exchanged glances with my mother. “He can’t have much power left.”
Mom shook her head. “Even if he does, I don’t think he would risk making an enemy of you.” She gave me a reassuring smile. “You’re as safe as you’re going to get, hon.”
I studied the two of them. The psychotic serial rapist was afraid of pissing off Hades? What kind of a world had I stumbled into? “How do I know you’re telling the truth?”
Hades shot my mom a look I couldn’t read. “She doesn’t know?”
“She didn’t even know she was a goddess until this morning.”
“Oh, so that’s why she was flaunting her powers in an open field. By the Styx, Demeter!”
“She needs to be able to blend in!”
“I’m sure Boreas would have appreciated that particular ability.”
I looked back and forth between the two of them. “I don’t know what?”
“Gods can’t lie.” Hades spoke in clipped tones. “You really didn’t know?”
“What do you mean, gods can’t lie?” I motioned to my mom. “She lied to me every day about being human. That doesn’t make any sense.”
“Oh, we’re very good at misleading. We just can’t speak words that aren’t true. It could unravel all of creation.”
I blinked. That sounded serious.
“If I tell you you’re safe, you’re as safe as you can possibly get, okay?”
I jumped when Hades put a hand on my shoulder. My eyes met his and my heart dropped to my stomach. No one should look that good.
“You can trust me, okay?”
There was something in his expression that made me believe him. “Okay. I’ll stay.”
“It’s settled, then,” my mother said. “Persephone will stay here for the winter, but Hades…” Her voice took on a sharp note. “If you so much as lay a hand on—”
“Please!” Hades scoffed. “She’s a child even by mortal standards. What I’ve done means nothing.”
“What you’ve done?” I asked.
“When I breathed my essence into you—” I blinked, remembering the odd kiss “—it gave you the ability to enter the Underworld without dying, and return from my realm unscathed.” He hesitated. “It also marked you as my bride.”
“What?” I yelped. I had to be dreaming. No, I’d wrecked my car when Melissa and I were driving to the concert. I was in a coma somewhere having insane dreams. Pirithous, the goddess thing, the ice attack, it hadn’t been real. That makes so much more sense.
“It means nothing.” Hades looked flustered. “In title, you are my wife, and queen of this realm, but it means nothing. Much like Zeus and Hera’s marriage.” He sent a pointed look in my mom’s direction.
I pinched my arm, frowning when it hurt. Maybe dreams could hurt you when you were in a coma. I could be stuck, forever wondering if anything was real until I lost my mind.
Mom held her chin high. “I’d like a moment alone with my daughter.”
“But of course.” Hades bowed mockingly and departed from the room.
My mother waited until his footsteps faded down the hall before speaking. “I can’t imagine how hard this is for you.”
My shoulders slumped. “I’m not this creative.” I couldn’t dream up something this crazy. I’d failed every creative writing assignment my teachers had ever thrown my way.
Of course now that I thought about it, that might have something to do with my inability to lie.
“What?”
I blinked back tears. “Mom, I’m scared.”
“I know, but you’re safest there.”
Safest, not safe? I stared at my mom, wondering what else she wasn’t telling me. I can’t trust her. The realization made me sick. If this was really happening, if I wasn’t lying in a coma ward somewhere, then she’d never been honest with me, whether she could lie or not.
“I know, but—”
“Once you come into your powers, you won’t have to hide anymore.”
“What powers? I’m a goddess, but what can I do?”
“You’ll be able to do so many things. You’re
spring. Everything is new again in the spring; the plants, the animals—”
“I can control animals?”
She frowned. “No, that’s another god. Think more along the lines of plants.”
“I could end world hunger!”
“I’m actually Goddess of Agriculture, and believe me, the earth grows enough to feed everyone. Humans just haven’t learned to share.”
I stared at her, deflated. All I could do was make pretty flowers bloom. “I don’t want to stay.”
“I know, but the time will pass before you know it. I’ll work everything out with your school.” She smiled at me. “I love you, Persephone. You’re my entire world.”
“I love you too, Mom.”
She smiled and her image flickered again. “I have to go. If you need me, Hades knows how to do this.” She motioned to her flickering image. “But it takes a lot of power, so…”
I stared at her in disbelief. I was really going to be alone down here. “I can’t talk to you or Melissa or anyone on the surface?”
“You can, it’s just costly. Power’s all that’s keeping us alive, hon. We have to be careful. But if you need me, we can do this, or dream walk, or—” She flickered out, then back in. “I’m sorry, I have to go. I love you.” She held her palm up. I held my palm up to hers, and for a brief second I could almost feel her hand against mine. Then my mother was gone.
I sank to my knees and cried.
Chapter VIII
I heard a hesitant knock on the door and quickly wiped the tears off my face. “Come in!” I looked at the door, expecting to see Hades. I was surprised when a dark-haired, waif-like teenage girl entered instead. My eyes focused on the unicorn rearing up toward the full moon on her purple T-shirt, surprised to see something I recognized in this strange place.
“I’m Cassandra,” she said cheerfully, offering me a hand.
I took it, and she hauled me up to my feet. “You’ve had a good thirty minutes to feel sorry for yourself. Now it’s time to look around your kingdom.”
I bristled, opening my mouth to tell her off, but changed my mind. However angry I was, Cassandra wasn’t the one who should be left dealing with the fallout. I looked her over—she couldn’t be much older than me. Maybe I didn’t have so much to complain about.