Persephone

Chapter XV

“Next,” Hades called.
I shifted under the gaze of the man who came forward. He was staring at me. I should be used to this by now. The souls stared at Hades and me as if we were…well, gods, but I wasn’t comfortable with the attention.
“Kora?”
I looked at the man again and did a double take. “Orpheus?” I exclaimed in disbelief. “Wha—how did you die?”
“You two know each other?” Hades glanced between the two of us.
“You don’t?” Cassandra leaned forward in her seat. “That’s only the most famous singer topside right now. You know…”—she sang a line from “Mortus Dei”—“…that guy.”
“Um, thank you,” Orpheus said with a modest nod to Cassandra before turning back to me. “What are you doing down here?”
“I can’t believe you remember me.” I beamed. Hades and Cassandra exchanged glances, and I elbowed Hades. “I met him and his wife backstage at a concert.”
“How exciting,” Hades replied dryly. “Kora?”
“My middle name.” I turned to Orpheus. “You can call me Persephone down here. How can we help you?”
“Your middle name is Kora?”
I gave Hades a look. “And that’s somehow stranger than Persephone?”
“More generic, for sure. It’s Greek for girl.”
I blinked. Mom had named me girl? That was pretty generic. No wonder she didn’t like me going by my middle name.
Orpheus spoke up. “Last time I saw you, you didn’t even know you were a goddess. How did you end up down here? You don’t look like you belong with the chthonic group. No offense,” he said to Hades.
“Not that it’s any of your business, but her parents are Olympian,” Hades replied.
“Chthonic? Olympian? What are you guys talking about?”
“Chthonic deities are gods associated with the Underworld. We tend to have darker features.” Hades motioned to his black hair. “Olympians were associated with Olympus, and were various shades of blonde. The primordials tended to represent their element to the extreme, and the Titans were…well, titanic in size.”
I blinked. Gods were classified by appearance? I supposed it wasn’t relevant anymore with so few of us left, but the whole system seemed strange to me. None of that mattered, though, because Orpheus remembered the last time he saw me! I was sure my face was bright red. Hades sighed, no doubt bored by the whole conversation.
“How I got down here is a long story,” I replied. He wants to know my life story!
“What can we do for you?” Hades repeated impatiently.
“Well, you see, I haven’t died yet.”
That news caused stirring amongst the judges. They muttered, glancing at each other. Hades shot a look at Cassandra.
“Then how did you come to be here?” she asked.
“My mother is the muse Calliope—”
“I should have known you were a demigod!” I interrupted. “I didn’t know about the eyes thing when I met you, but it was so obvious. I mean, well, if anyone was a demigod it would be you.”
“Well—” Orpheus shifted uncomfortably “—I’m human for all practical purposes. I’m just gifted with music.”
I sighed. “You sure are.” Oh my God! Did I just say that out loud? How humiliating.
“Calliope herself is a fairly minor deity,” Hades explained, ignoring my faux pas. “Well, sub-deity. She’s a singer of some renown herself. You may know her as…” He paused. “What does she go by now, Cassandra?”
Cassandra supplied the name, and my jaw dropped. “She’s your mother?”
Orpheus shrugged. “Yes, but we don’t advertise that fact. The lack of age difference would be difficult to explain.”
“I was under the impression there weren’t many deities left. Is there like a club or something? I’d love to talk to someone a bit closer to my own age…” I trailed off when I realized everyone was looking at me.
“You’ll be on the surface again then?” Orpheus asked. “You’re a psychopomp?”
“A psycho what?”
“A god that can travel between realms,” Hades replied. “It’s her privilege as my wife. It is not extended to any other mortals, gods, or—” He gave Orpheus a significant look “—demigods.”
“My mother showed me an entrance in Italy, in a crater west of Naples, that leads here.” He looked at Hades. “I was able to get through. You may want to get that taken care of.”
“How were you able to get through Tartarus?” I asked Orpheus, amazed.
“My mother told me only innocents could cross through the river of fire,” Orpheus said, shrugging. “Guess I’m innocent enough.”
I guess the fail-safe does work if you’re alive. Good to know. Cassandra and I exchanged looks. I had a feeling a girls’ night was in the works.
“What is so important to you that it is worth traveling through the fires of Hell?” Hades asked.
“My wife, Eurydice. We were hiking, and a snake bit her. I couldn’t get help in time. She died.” He looked up at us, his eyes glassy with emotion. “I have to get her back.”
Hades nodded. “I’m afraid you’ve come a long way for nothing.”
I glanced at Hades. “There has to be something—”
“That’s enough, Persephone.”
“If you would allow me to present my case in song?”
Hades sighed heavily, but at my excited look, nodded at Orpheus. Orpheus waited a beat, and then opened his mouth to sing a heart-wrenching song begging for his wife back. Coming from anyone else it would have seemed cheesy, but as his voice filled the room, I could feel my own heart breaking for him.
Tears stung my eyes when he’d finished his song. “We have to do something.”
“Persephone—” Hades sighed.
I turned to Moirae. “Is it possible?”
She looked startled. “Yes, my queen.”
I blinked at the title. For the past month, when Moirae wasn’t glaring at me like she’d like to witness my crucifixion, she pretended I didn’t exist. I mostly returned the favor.
I smiled at Hades flirtatiously and laid a hand on his. I felt a little silly, but I might as well put that charm to a good cause.
“It would mean a lot to me,” I whispered, looking at him through heavy lashes. I was startled to see his face change. He looked completely unguarded. That never happened during goddess lessons.
“Uh…” Hades shook his head. “Does anyone know she’s dead yet?”
“Just my mother,” Orpheus replied, pretending not to notice the scene that had just taken place. “I summoned her when…obviously she couldn’t help Eurydice. She stayed with her…body, just in case I was able to return with her soul.”
“Call the soul in question forward,” Hades instructed Moirae. “Orpheus, turn away.”
Eurydice materialized before us.
“Is this woman judged to be of great good or great evil?” Hades asked.
“Neither, my lord,” Moirae responded.
“Very well, then. Orpheus, you must leave the way you entered. There is no other way you can return to the world of the living.”
“Is she here?” Orpheus asked. He started to turn.
“Do not look at her!” Hades’ voice rang with a frightening authority that froze Orpheus in place. “You two may leave, but you cannot look upon her until she is returned to the realm of the living. Her soul will reunite with her body once you reach the surface, but if you see her in this form she will not be able to return.”
She looked the same as she had when I’d seen her alive. I looked at Cassandra.
“There’s a difference to humans,” Cassandra whispered to me. “Hades isn’t trying to make it hard for them; it’s just the way it works. If anyone learns of her death before they return, it won’t work either. Acknowledgement makes the death final.”
“But Orpheus knows.”
“The rules are gray when it comes to demigods.”
“Thank you!” Orpheus exclaimed. “I will make this up to you, I promise.” He closed his eyes and turned toward us, giving an awkward bow.
“Good luck,” I called.
“Cassandra, would you please guide them as far as Tartarus? I will arrange for someone to take them from there.” Hades motioned for Moirae and the judges to leave the room.
“Of course.” She positioned Eurydice behind Orpheus. “Let’s go.”
Hades waited until Cassandra led the couple out of the throne room before turning to me. “We’re alone.”
“We are,” I agreed, standing nervously.
Hades stood and moved closer to me, pressing me against the wall. I drew in a shuddering breath as Hades leaned closer, his lips almost brushing mine.
He’s going to kiss me, I realized. My heart thudded; I wasn’t prepared for this. I hadn’t thought the whole goddess-charm thing through so well.
“Uh…Hades,” I squeaked, my lips touching his as I spoke. I swallowed hard. Damn, Hades was hot. My heart was beating a hundred miles a minute and sped up as Hades grinned at me.
“There’s something you need to know, little goddess,” he whispered, turning his face so his breath tickled my ear. It felt really good. He smiled, and my heart froze. It wasn’t a nice smile. “I am much stronger than you. You cannot use your little tricks on me. I am immune, you stupid child. I’ll forgive this one transgression, but if you ever try to manipulate my affections again, I will not be so accommodating. Do you understand?”
My cheeks colored in embarrassment. “In practice, I always get you to give me the red M&M’s.”
“That was a device to let you know when you were using enough charm to affect a human,” he snapped. “I got it from a human parenting manual. I didn’t think you were stupid enough to believe you could use your charm against me.”
My eyes flashed. I remembered mother telling me the only way she’d found to potty train me was giving me M&M’s. I was not flattered by the comparison. “Well, that tells me everything I need to know.”
He wrinkled his brow in confusion. “About what?”
I shook my head, feeling stupid. “You know, for a moment I thought maybe— Never mind. I know exactly how you see me now. I’m nothing but a child.”
“How else would I see you?”
“Get away from me!” I pushed him away. When he didn’t budge I glared at him.
“Tell me you will never attempt to charm me again.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. Even I knew better than to throw around words like never. I could only speak the truth, and future intent got messy when you couldn’t lie.
He seemed to realize what he was asking, and shook his head. “Just…don’t. How would you feel if I could just look into your eyes and make you do something that you didn’t want to?”
He was right. I dropped my gaze to the floor. I’d tried to control him, to strip him of his will. “I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I won’t—”
“Stop,” he warned me. “You don’t know what the future holds.” He sighed. “Helping Orpheus was unusually stupid of you.”
“If I can help someone, I will. I’m done watching people suffer.”
“You can’t save everyone,” Hades said, his voice gentling. He drew a deep breath and took a small step away from me. “The sooner you realize that, the better it will be for you.”
“I’m not suggesting we return everyone to life, but it was possible in this situation.”
“So?”
“So! He literally went through Hell to save her! Her death was a pointless accident. It wasn’t fair!”
“Life isn’t fair! Why should death be any different?”
“Did you ever stop and wonder if maybe that attitude is why the gods are dead?” I asked. “People don’t believe in gods because they can’t wrap their minds around the idea of someone allowing all the terrible things in the world to happen.”
“Reality has teeth and claws. It’s rarely pretty and never fair. Haven’t you figured that out yet?”
I clenched my fists. “Why? I get that no one has the power to interfere now, but when the gods were in power, how could they let things get this bad? You’re here every day! You hear the stories of murder, thievery, and worse. You see the children who starved to death. This isn’t a recent development. Why didn’t you stop it?”
“We gave humans free will—”
“That’s bull!” I exploded. “If you have the power to stop someone from getting killed and don’t, you’re just as guilty as whoever pulled the trigger.”
“Where do you draw that line, Persephone? There are billions of humans, and a handful of us—”
“Who allowed humans to get to the billions? That was greed, plain and simple. More humans equaled more worship. And really, between the God of Mist, and the God of Doorways, and the god of every other useless thing, you couldn’t at least try?”
“You’re angry. I understand. You didn’t see this side of the world back in your flower shop. Your mother kept you sheltered. It’s a bit of a shock at first, but—”
“But what? Over time I’ll get used to it? Used to seeing children in the court of the dead? Used to watching husbands cry over lost wives? Why should I get used to it when I can do something about it?”
“You can’t save everyone. You just don’t have that power.”
“But you did! You each had the power to grant immortality!” I threw my hands in the air. “Why were only some people given the gift? My mother has the power to make things grow anywhere. How come people are still starving? Are you all so full of yourselves that you think you’re any more deserving of these gifts than any one of those humans?”
Hades took me by the shoulders. The cold marble pressed against my back. I ground my teeth, raising my chin to meet his eyes, trying to catch my breath. “Persephone—”
The door to the throne room slammed open and a dripping wet Charon stormed into the room. “What the hell, Moirae? You can’t just zap people out of my boat. It knocked the whole thing off balance—”
He froze when he saw me and Hades.
“Um…” He took a step backward. “I’m really…I’m going to go.”
“No,” I said coldly, pushing Hades away from me with all my strength. He rolled his eyes and stepped away. “I was just leaving.”


I stormed out of the castle. I’d made my big speech with my big promises, completely forgetting that my big power was making flowers bloom. Like that could help anyone!
Don’t forget your awesome charisma. I snorted, walking along the River Styx. To think I’d considered… Hades sucked. I wanted a guy like Orpheus. Orpheus had gone through Tartarus to rescue his wife—that was love. Hades probably didn’t even know the meaning of the word love.
That was the problem with gods. They could never sacrifice for love like humans did. How could they possibly understand emotions as well as we—
I stopped walking. I’m not human.
I’d accepted the fact I was a goddess, but it felt more like my title than my species. I hadn’t considered that I wasn’t human. Would I be as detached as Hades was in a few hundred years? Was that my future? Would I ever feel the kind of love that would drive me to walk through Hell for the other person if they needed it?
Not from Hades, that was for sure. “How else would I see you?” I mocked, throwing in a heavy sigh for good measure. I didn’t know why I cared. It wasn’t like I felt anything for him. He was annoying, proud, he sighed all the time, and he was inconsiderate. Well, that wasn’t always true. Sometimes he was good, kind, and comforting. Like after I had my nightmare, he’d held me and—
I swore, scowling at my reflection in the crystalline waters.
“Persephone!” Thanatos called. He walked quickly to catch up to me.
I walked faster. “Leave me alone.”
“What happened? What did he do?” Thanatos took a few steps at a run over the grass-covered hill until he reached my side.
“I don’t want to talk about it, and I don’t want company.” At his hurt look I softened my tone. “Sorry, I just… You said not to think of you as a guard, remember?”
He nodded. “Right. We’re friends.”
“Then be my friend. Give me some space right now, okay? I can’t think unless I’m alone, and I’m never alone here. There’s always someone—” I took a deep breath. “I shouldn’t have to hide in my room if I want some space.”
Thanatos hesitated. “Okay,” he agreed. “I’m going to walk away, I’ll be at the bottom of the hill, out of sight, out of hearing range, out of mind, I hope. Take as much time as you need. Just promise to come get me when you’re done. And please, don’t wander off.”
I looked around, surprised to find I was next to the thin ribbon of fire that marked the boundary of Tartarus. I hadn’t been paying attention to where I was walking. I’d just walked away from Thanatos.
“Okay,” I said. “I’ll stick around.”
He nodded, but his face was troubled, like he had misgivings about leaving me by myself. But true to his word he walked down the large green hill. He faded from sight and I sat down at the edge of the river of flames and watched them dance wickedly down their slope. It was a river, not a wall of fire as I’d assumed in Latin class. I could see clearly to the other side, but there was nothing there. The landscape continued into the distance unchanged. A trick of the eye, maybe? If I was sentenced to Hell, I’d stay by the river my whole afterlife in hopes I could somehow escape.
It wouldn’t make sense for the good to have to watch the bad suffer for all eternity, I mused, but the other way around would be torturous. What if, on the other side of the fire, I was being watched? There could be someone standing a mere foot from me and I wouldn’t be able to see them because of some magic trick.
The river was beautiful; it would be pretty cool to just touch it…
Entranced, I knelt by the water’s edge and held my hand over the flames. I could feel heat, but it wasn’t as blistering as I’d imagined it would be. I touched my fingertip to the flame, grinning when it didn’t burn.
“How cool.” I took a furtive glance around then stuck my hand into the river. It felt wet. Not like fire at all. I grinned, entertaining thoughts about swimming in the river of flames as I watched them curl over my hand. Something snaked through the river and wrapped around my wrist.
The shock barely registered before I felt a sudden yank. I screamed as I was pulled across the river.