“Why weren’t you at the door with Hera? Is something wrong?”
“Oh no, dear. It’s just my brother Hades stopped by. I was wondering if he would bring my old back to life.”
Persephone was aghast. “That a god could do such a thing is news to me.”
“But even so, he refuses to get involved in my affairs. Hades is an interesting brother. He does what he wants, not always explaining why.”
“He sounds like he keeps to himself mostly. I’ve never heard of Hades ever leaving the Underworld. I thought he was bound there by you.”
“Yes, he does prefer that. Strangely he’s been interested in flowers and fruit, perhaps finally considering a dalliance with a mortal.”
Persephone was going to press on, but she felt Demeter’s hand on her shoulder. Zeus’s face melted into a heroic smile.
“Demeter, have you grown tired of my marvel of a wife?”
“Of course I haven’t. But, Perse and I have errands to run. I just remembered the strings
of my loom need some new fastenings. You know I dabble in that sort of a thing.”
The day progressed quickly and slid into a cold clear night. Persephone sat on her balcony in her night clothes, holding the pomegranate she’d been given by the stranger. She wondered whether the stranger she’d served today was the god who’d passed by. She peeled the fruit. She wondered how Hades could have handled something so fresh without turning it grey, apparent from the phenomenon she’d witnessed earlier. She surmised there would be no harm in tasting it.
It was a bit stale, but still retained the taste.
Demeter finished her shower and while she was brushing her teeth, felt a stiff breeze chill her arm. Silly girl forgot to close the door again, she thought. She came to close the sliding door when she noted a fruit peel sitting on the railing. What on earth is something like this doing here? Her interest piqued, she touched it, and the peel wasted away to ashes. Her heart started beating frantically. She pulled the house phone out of her bathrobe pocket and dialed.
There was a tone before Zeus picked up. “Demeter? Have you—”
“No, your brother has made a conquest of my daughter.”
“Oh. That’s why you called?”
“What kind of response is this? Why aren’t you concerned? This is your daughter too. I don’t want her to live there. I could kill him.”
Zeus sighed. His voice was oddly firm. “I have no jurisdiction in that world. I am with the living. I can do nothing. Killing him would be pointless. He’s beguiled you out of a child. He has won his game. Persephone will have to return with him to his house.”
“Fix this.”
“He is one of my brothers. I share the world with them. I will not go to war, just to avenge a beautiful flower. You have kept her in a cage long enough. This will do her good. I have nothing more to say.”
Persephone remembered she had forgotten to close the balcony door and tiptoed back when she overheard the whole conversation.
She could feel the fumes radiating off Demeter as the conversation cut.
She peeked out, “Mom?”
Demeter crumbled to the ground as Persephone reached out to catch her.
***
Persephone arrived to her new destination by crossing a river via a small rowboat. The situation hadn’t been explained to her. She didn’t understand why the adults in her life were making these decisions. Demeter was distraught—she’d just kept yelling without explaining anything. Over and over again she’d been told that this was as a result of her being immature. She wasn’t too phased about her new situation; she would deal with the changes as they came.
To be honest, she didn’t miss Demeter too much, at least not yet.
The shop sign swinging above her read: Dead End Florals
And in front stood the same slightly malnourished man who’d brought this all down on her. Her jailer—at least according to Demeter—had come to greet her himself. The gnarled boatman who’d rowed her all this quietly helped her onshore. She gave him a small black bunny as a tip. She knew money meant nothing to him, but she hoped the gesture would mean something to him. The rabbit sniffed the skeletal hand before climbing inside his sleeve. The hood was tipped downward as a measure of thanks before he resumed rowing in measured strokes away from this shore.
The ground here was swampy and smelled of burnt toast and the moldy inside of a refrigerator. Persephone wrinkled her nose. Her hooded cloak snaked back to her neck and she clutched her knapsack closer. It would be impossible to grow anything here.
Neither spoke for a solid minute. Anger. Sadness. Betrayal. Persephone didn’t know where to begin.
She tried with his name. “Hades, I—”
He touched her shoulder softly. The touch sent a chill through her and she met his eyes. He spoke slowly. “I know you don’t like the idea of living in a land of eternal damnation. But I don’t regret what I did. I wanted to help.”
Persephone felt her face grow hot. “If this is your version of help, I’m not here to be your wife. I can’t grow anything here. There are no plants, no animals. Nothing. This is a dead, barren wasteland.”
Hades smiled. “It has different life than the above-world. There is life after death. You may explore it. I cannot return it to what was. I offered you a choice and a chance.”
“I didn’t have a—”
“Demeter would not allow me to explain. I could not have interacted with you if I had spoken or written about this place. I do not regret giving you the pomegranate. Demeter has had you for quite long enough. In three months, you may return to her, but every year you must come here for that time.”
“That’s not so bad, now that I think about it.” Persephone felt lighter. “You’re still wearing the wreath I made you.”
“It was the first time another goddess had shown me kindness,” he said simply. “For now, I hope these accommodations are satisfactory.”
He handed her the keys.
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