Goddess of Spring (16 page)

“I was not fashioned as the rest of them. I do not know how to treat love as a plaything.”

Iapis looked into the god's haunted eyes and saw there the loneliness that Hades had kept at bay for countless ages. His spirit ached for his friend. The daimon thought about Persephone. There was something about the young goddess that was unique, something besides her much-lauded beauty and her ability to breathe light into darkness. Hades must not shut out Persephone. If he did, he was afraid that the God of the Underworld would forever be closing the door to any chance of relieving the dark loneliness of his existence.

But how was he to coax Hades out of his instinctive reaction to withdraw from the goddess until her visit was complete? His Lord was not used to visitors. His existence was planned and orderly and set, not at all conducive to disturbances from the other immortals. And the Goddess of Spring was a definite disturbance.

She was also beautiful and vivacious and intriguing.

If only Hades could feel as easy with her as he did with the unnumbered dead. Iapis' eyes widened as an idea took root and grew.

“Perhaps that is the answer, Lord.”

Hades gestured impatiently for him to continue.

“Imagine that Persephone is simply one of the unnumbered dead.”

“Iapis, that is ridiculous.”

“Why?” The daimon threw his hands up in frustration. “You're at war within yourself, Hades! You say you should withdraw from her, yet when you speak of her I see in your eyes a spark that has been absent for an eternity. What if the Fates have been kind and there has been another immortal fashioned as you have been? How will you ever know if you remain sealed from everything that is living? Give the goddess a chance, my Lord.”

Before Hades could comment, Iapis cocked his head, as if he were listening to an internal voice.

“She has just called my name.”

“Go to her!” Hades commanded. But the moment after Iapis vanished the god shouted his name again.

“My Lord?” Iapis asked, rematerializing.

“Invite the Goddess of Spring to join me in the Great Hall tomorrow. Tell her if she is still interested in learning about the Underworld, hearing the petitions of the dead should provide an excellent source of information for her.” Hades spoke the words quickly, as if he wanted to get them out of his mouth before he could change his mind.

Iapis smiled enigmatically. “Very good, my Lord.”

 

 

“TOMORROW, then, Goddess.” Iapis said.

He had almost bowed his way from Lina's bedchamber when Eurydice rushed through the open door and ran straight into his backside.

“Uhf!” He staggered forward, tripped over his own feet, and fell head first onto the floor.

Lina and Eurydice stared openmouthed at each other. Lina smiled. She couldn't help it. Iapis usually looked so dignified and there he was, sprawled on the floor with his toga in the air. A choked laugh slipped from her lips.

A small sound escaped from Eurydice. It was soft and fluid and delightful. It was also most definitely a giggle. And it destroyed the last of Lina's self-control.

Iapis stood, struggling to regain his bruised pride, but the musical sound of feminine laughter more than atoned for any ruffling of his dignity, and he found himself joining them.

How he wished Hades could be there. The god so needed laughter in his life.

“I seem to have found a slight”—still chuckling, he glanced down at the smooth expanse of marble at his feet—“something in the floor which tripped me.”

“I think its name is Eurydice,” Lina chortled.

Eurydice tried unsuccessfully to stifle her giggles with her hand.

“Then I will have to see that I pay special attention to that slight something.”

Iapis' eyes were warm with good humor, and, Lina thought as she watched Eurydice's pale cheeks pinken, perhaps something else. She gazed thoughtfully after the daimon as he bowed to her, and this time successfully left the room.

“Oh, Persephone, I have had such a day!” Eurydice skipped over to the nearest wardrobe. She hummed a lively tune and pulled open drawers until she found the goddess's nightdresses. “Iapis found some wonderful parchment and charcoals and I have already begun a preliminary sketch of the palace.”

“That's nice, Eurydice,” Lina said. Still considering the warmth she had seen in the daimon's eyes, she wasn't really listening as she absentmindedly nodded and allowed the girl to unwrap her robe and help her step out of it. She held out her arms and Eurydice slipped the long nightie over her head. Lina ran her hand down the length of the material. It was white satin that had been intricately embroidered with narcissus blossoms. It felt like water against her skin.

“Come over to the table and sit down while I brush out your hair. You look exhausted,” Eurydice said. She had been studying her goddess and she hadn't failed to notice the dark smudges under her violet eyes.

Lina sank into the padded vanity chair, breathing a sigh of pleasure as Eurydice began brushing her hair with long, even strokes. She hadn't realized how tired she had become. The girl chattered happily about the process of mapping the palace while she worked. The sound of her young voice was almost as soothing as the touch of her hands. Lina felt her shoulders relax and her mind wander.

After Hades had stormed out of the dining room, she had finished her meal and the rest of the bottle of wine. No. The truth was first she had cursed and grumbled about men in general,
then
she had decided that she wasn't going to let another man's lapse in good manners ruin a perfectly good dinner. When she finished the scrumptious meal and the excellent bottle of wine, she had simply said Iapis' name aloud. In what seemed like seconds he answered her call, ready to escort her back to her bedroom. During their walk he had made vague, nonspecific references to the lack of visitors in the Underworld and to how little practice he had in entertaining and conversing with guests. He had said that he hoped she wouldn't judge him, or the Underworld, too harshly or too hastily.

Lina heard the real message loud and clear. The “he” was, of course, not Iapis but Hades. He was obviously apologizing for the god's behavior. The wine she had finished by herself and her riled temper had made Lina want to tell Iapis to take a particularly colorful message (in Italian) back to Hades, but the remnants of her good sense had, thankfully, kept her mouth shut.

Hades was a god and she was staying within his realm. It was not smart to antagonize him and now that she was out of his presence and had time to think about the evening, Lina was regretting her little temper tantrum. Hades wasn't a middle-aged divorcé with sweaty palms who had asked her to dinner so he could whine about his exes and then grope her for dessert. He was a powerful immortal, a being she knew little about.

And, just exactly why had she been so pissed off at him? Okay, he had been moody and unpredictable at dinner, but he had also been interesting and sexy. Iapis' explanation about his god's lack of manners made sense. He wasn't used to visitors. Obviously, his social skills were a little rusty. As an immortal being, just how polite did he
have
to be? She thought about Demeter's imperious manner and Eirene's rudeness. Actually, Hades' temperamental behavior seemed to fit right in with those two.

Eurydice finished brushing her hair, but the little spirit obviously felt Lina's tension because her soft, cool hands began gently massaging her shoulders. Lina sighed happily and closed her eyes, letting the girl's touch soothe her nerves and clear her mind.

She'd really had no reason to snap at Hades. He hadn't been making her the butt of his joke, he'd simply been treating her like the naïve young goddess she was masquerading as, and her silly show of temper had done little to prove his opinion of her wrong. If she wanted him to treat her like a mature adult, she really should try acting like one.

Merda!
She'd been there less than a day and she was already messing up. Had she completely lost her mind? She was, after all, in the Underworld to do a job. At least she'd had sense enough to say yes when Iapis had extended the invitation to join Hades the next morning to hear the petitions of the dead. She needed to get her head on straight and think of it as nothing more than just another part of the job Demeter had sent her there to do. She needed to be visible to the dead so that her presence could bring them comfort. It had nothing to do with the fact that she wanted to spend more time with Hades because the dark god intrigued her, which was really ridiculous . . . silly . . . foolish.

Yet undeniably true.

She knew it. As Eurydice soothed her frazzled nerves she could even admit it to herself. Hades fascinated her, but so did everything about the Underworld. She felt drawn to him, but it was probably because she had been displaced and everything in that incredible world was so new and unique. How could she not feel curious fascination about the magic that surrounded her? And that magic naturally included the god in charge. It was a perfectly normal reaction for her to feel compelled to find out more about him.

At least that's what she told herself.

“Persephone, you're almost asleep,” Eurydice said. She tugged on her goddess's arm, pulling her toward the canopied bed. “Lie down. I will sing to you. Just as my mother used to sing to me.”

Too tired to protest, Lina allowed the young spirit to tuck her into the voluptuous, down-filled bed. Eurydice nestled next to her. Still stroking the goddess's hair, she began to sing a soft lullaby about a child who rode on the back of the wind to a many-colored land of dreams.

“Eurydice,” Lina said sleepily.

“Yes, Goddess.”

“Thank you for taking care of me.”

“You are welcome, Persephone,” Eurydice said.

Sleep closed gently around Lina, bringing her dreams of riding the wind while she chased Batman's shadow.

CHAPTER TWELVE

THE Great Hall lived up to its name. Lina had thought the dining chamber and her bedroom extravagant, but they paled in comparison to Hades' throne room. The room was enormous, even when judged on the scale of the huge palace. Three colors dominated it—black, white and purple. The floor, walls and cathedral ceiling were all made of the unblemished black of the exterior of the palace, as was the raised dais on which stood a massive throne-like chair, which seemed to have been carved from a single piece of an ethereally white stone Lina did not recognize. On the dais next to the throne there was a tall, narrow table made of the same milky stone. On the table rested a silver helmet which looked oddly familiar to Lina. She stared at it and realized where she had seen it before. It was the same helmet that was emblazoned on the flag that hung over the palace and adorned the uniforms of the stablemen. It winked and sparkled in the candlelight with an otherworldly beauty. She forced her eyes from the helmet to the other color in the room, purple. It came from dozens of chandeliers and wall fixtures, all made of a pure sparkling stone Lina did recognize—amethyst.

Lina hesitated on the threshold of the room, intimidated by its austere grandeur. She felt suddenly small and insignificant and very, very mortal.

“Is something the matter, Persephone?” Eurydice asked.

Lina took a deep breath. She was goddess, she reminded herself. Yes, it was only temporary, but she was goddess nonetheless.

“No, honey, nothing's wrong. I'm just admiring the room.” She smiled at the little spirit.

“Ah, Hades comes,” Iapis said.

Hades entered the Great Hall from a doorway on the opposite side of the room. His gilded sandals rang against the smooth marble floor, and as Lina watched him she felt her heartbeat increase with each of his steps. He was wearing the cape again. It swirled behind him, accentuating his body's long, powerful lines. His toga-like robes at first appeared black, but as the light from the chandeliers touched him, the material shone like a raven's wing with glints of purple and royal blue. His hair was loose and it fell in a thick black curtain around his shoulders. His chiseled jaw was set and his face was dark, his expression somber. He exuded raw, masculine power.

Lina's stomach fizzed. She had to force herself not to twirl her hair nervously.

Hades took the steps of the dais in one stride. He turned and was about to sit when he noticed the three figures standing just inside the entrance across the chamber. His eyes met Lina's and held.

“Persephone,” he said, inclining his head slightly, not breaking their gaze. “I am honored to welcome Spring into my Great Hall.”

Lina swallowed, wishing her mouth wasn't so dry.

“Thank you, Hades,” she said, pleased that her voice sounded strong and clear. “I appreciate your invitation.”

“Please, join me,” Hades said. Then, breaking the spell that had locked her eyes to his, he shifted his attention to the daimon. “Iapis, have a chair brought for the goddess.”

“Of course, my Lord,” Iapis called over his shoulder, and a flutter of activity ensued. Within moments spectral servants carried a delicately carved silver chair to join Hades on the dais.

Lina walked into the room. She could feel the god's eyes on her, and she lifted her chin with pride. Eurydice had helped her dress, and Lina was especially pleased that the violet silk she had chosen reflected the color of the amethyst chandeliers blazing over her head as well as her eyes. But she knew the lovely material that draped her body was incidental. That morning as she had been dressing, she had been struck anew by Persephone's immortal beauty. Lina knew that no matter what turmoil was going on within her mind, she crossed the room with all the beauty and grace of a goddess.