Goddess of Spring (42 page)

She paused before continuing and studied her well-manicured fingernails. Lina wanted to shake her again.

“Well, I assured the daimon that my body and my soul were the same. He disappeared, and when he returned he said that his Lord refused to see
Persephone,
and he commanded that I leave his realm and stop bothering him.”

“And how does that prove that he doesn't love you? Hades is very stubborn.” Lina glanced at Demeter, who was pretending to study her wine. She leaned forward and lowered her voice. “Sometimes it takes a lot of work to get him to relax and talk. Actually, he's romantic and passionate. You should try again. He will probably see you next time.” Lina's stomach clenched and she hated herself as soon as she said the words. She didn't want Hades to see Persephone. She didn't want him to see anyone except her.

“I think
you
should try,” Persephone said firmly.

“Me?” Lina blinked in surprise. “How can I?”

“We could exchange bodies again.” Persephone gestured at Demeter. “Mother will aid us. She recognizes that her plan did not work exactly as she had expected.”

Lina looked at Demeter. The goddess inclined her head in a small, regal bow. “I acknowledge the truth of my daughter's words. I was mistaken in how I handled the situation.”

The awful bedroom scene flashed through Lina's memory. “I'm glad to hear you say it, but it doesn't change anything.”

“Do you remember, Carolina, when you came to my oracle distraught because you had made an error in judgment?” Demeter said.

“Yes, I almost caused Eurydice a lot of pain because I made a decision without thinking it through.”

“Do you remember what I told you then?”

“You told me to learn from my mistake,” Lina said.

“Yes, and I have taken my own advice. I, too, did not fully consider my decision. What I have learned from my mistake is that even a goddess can be surprised by her daughters.” Demeter gifted the two women with one of her rare smiles. Then she returned her full attention to Lina. “Hades was being truthful with you. He has always been different from the rest of the immortals. I believe the Lord of the Underworld did fall in love with you, Carolina.”

“And I have a proposal for you,” Persephone said. “You love Hades. I love your bakery and your world. Why must we live forever without our loves?”

“But Hades—” Lina began.

“Hear me out,” Persephone interrupted. “As Goddess of Spring, I must be in my world for six months, then, as you would say, my ‘job' is completed until the next spring. I could come here during that interlude. And while I am here, you could return to the Underworld as Queen.”

Lina's head was spinning. “I would pretend to be you again?”

“No.” Persephone's smile was enigmatic. “
You
would not have to pretend. Everything from the animals to the spirits knew I was not you. You will not be pretending, Carolina, you are their Queen. You will simply be housed temporarily in my body because I need yours here. I will be the one who must masquerade as another.”

“No,” Lina said.

“Why not?” Persephone gave a long-suffering sigh. “Oh, I give you my word that I will neatly discard any ‘Scotts' before you return.”

“It's not that,” Lina said.

“Then what is it?”

“He doesn't want me, Persephone. He told me he loved my soul, and then when he saw the real me, he rejected me.”

“Lina, he was just surprised,” Persephone said.

“You didn't see his face.”

“I saw his face,” Demeter interjected. “And what I read there was, indeed, surprise and hurt. I did not see disdain or rejection.”

“Then you saw something I didn't,” Lina said.

“Perhaps you are simply making a mistake, Carolina,” Demeter said.

“Maybe, but what if I'm not?” Lina felt the sick wave of pain that remembering Hades' rejection evoked. She blinked furiously. “I can't bear it if he looks at me like that again. And what if he doesn't? That might actually be worse. How would I ever know that it's not just your body he desires?”

“Can you bear to live an eternity without him?” Persephone asked softly.

Tears spilled from Lina's eyes and left shining trails down her cheeks. “What I can't bear is what it would do to my soul to have him turn away from me again—or to have him accept me only because he wanted me to be something that I'm not.”

“Do not make a decision before you have pondered it properly,” Demeter said.

“Yes, promise me that you will consider my proposition. Fall has just begun here. You have until the first days of spring, then I will return for your final decision.”

Persephone wiped a tear from Lina's face. Then the goddess's smile became bittersweet. She reached under her sweater where a silver chain lay hidden. Without speaking, she pulled it over her head. The amethyst narcissus caught the bakery lights and sparkled.

“This belongs to you,” she said, placing it carefully over Lina's head. “The chain had been broken, and then knotted. I did not have it replaced. It is just as you left it.”

“Oh,” Lina said with a sob. She wrapped her fingers around the bloom that had been so lovingly carved for her. “I didn't think I'd ever see this again. Thank you for returning it to me.”

Anton burst from the French doors whistling a show tune from
Gypsy
and carrying a round tray which held a fragrant, steaming pizza. He glanced at Lina and came to an abrupt halt.

“Why are you crying?” His eyes flashed and he turned on Persephone. “Little Miss Cute Thing, if you made her cry, I'll—”

“No, Anton, it's nothing bad.” Lina smiled through her tears, wiping her face with the back of her hand. “Persephone gave me this necklace, and it is so beautiful that it made me cry.”

Anton's body relaxed. “Persephone? You mean like the goddess?”

“Exactly like the goddess,” Persephone said.

“I haven't seen you here before, either. How do you know our Lina?” Anton said.

Persephone smiled. “Lina helped me grow up.”

Anton looked confused.

“Persephone,” Demeter called from across the room. “We should depart.”

“Anton, we will need that pizza in a ‘To Go' box. And could you please add a big slice of gubana, too?”

“Of course,” Anton said. “Anything else I can get for Her Majesty?” He nodded his head at Demeter.

Persephone laughed. “Just the check.”

“I shall pay,” Demeter said. With a great sense of dignity she stood and then strode to where Anton waited at the cash register.

“With what?” Lina whispered.

Persephone shrugged her shoulders.

“Anton!” Lina said.

He looked at her.

“With these ladies we accept barter. Just be sure you drive a hard bargain.”

Anton's eyes widened. “Whatever you say, boss.” He faced the approaching goddess. “Well, Queen Greentree, what are you offering for pizza, gubana and wine?”

Demeter raised her haughty chin. “I prefer the title goddess. Queens have realms that are entirely too limited.”

“Fine,
Goddess
Greentree. What are you offering?”

Demeter's smile was sly. “Do you have any need for a talking bird?”

“No, honey,” Anton rolled his eyes. “We have way too many animals that hang around this place. Try again.”

Persephone pulled on Lina's sleeve. “Leave them to their bargaining. I have one more question to ask you.”

“What is it?”

“What did you do to Apollo?”

“Nothing,” Lina said, surprised.

“Nothing?” Persephone asked.

“Not a thing.”

“You refused the God of Light?” Persephone wasn't sure she had heard her correctly.

“Of course. I'm only interested in one god at a time,” Lina said.

“Really?” Persephone tapped her perfect chin thoughtfully. “What an interesting concept.”

“Sold! For one gold crown that is probably fake but I just
adore
it!” Anton squealed.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

HADES brooded, and he couldn't stop staring at the sketch the little spirit had given him.

“Do you like it?” Eurydice asked.

“How did you know?” Hades' voice sounded rough and foreign to his own ears. How long had it been since he had carried on a real conversation with anyone? He couldn't remember.

“I have been thinking a lot about her. I even started dreaming of her. Only, when I see her in my dreams, she does not look like she did when she was here. But how she looks—it's hard to describe—how she looks in my dreams
feels
right. So I drew her that way. When I showed Iapis, he told me that I should bring it to you.”

“I hope I did not overstep myself, Lord,” Iapis said.

Hades could not take his eyes from the sketch. “No, old friend, you did not overstep yourself. You were right to show me.” He made himself take his eyes from the sketch and look at Eurydice. “Thank you. May I keep it?”

“Of course, Lord. Anything I create is yours.”

“No, little one,” Hades said sadly. “Anything you create still belongs to her.”

“Will she return to us?” Eurydice asked.

Hades looked back at the sketch of Carolina. Her mortal features were sweet and kind, her body full and womanly. He felt a stirring within him just looking at the likeness of her, and he closed his eyes, blocking her picture from his mind. He had lacked the strength to trust her, and because of that she had almost lost her soul to Tartarus. But she had battled back from the abyss only to be betrayed and wounded by his rash, thoughtless words. He did not deserve the gift of her love.

“No,” Hades said. “I do not believe she will return to us.”

Eurydice made a small, sad noise, and Hades opened his eyes to see Iapis taking the spirit into his arms.

“Hush, now,” the daimon soothed. “Wherever she is, she has not forgotten you. She loved you.”

“Please leave me,” Hades rasped.

Iapis motioned for Eurydice to go, but he stayed in his Lord's chamber. His concern for the god gnawed at him. Hades did not pace back and forth in frustration. He did not work out his anger at the forge. He refused to eat and he rarely slept. He held court, passing judgment over the somber dead as if he belonged among their ranks and had been condemned to eternally wander the banks of Cocytus, the River of Lamentation.

When Persephone tried to see the god, Iapis had felt a stirring of hope at Hades' display of anger. But it was short-lived. As soon as the Goddess of Spring left the Underworld, Hades had withdrawn within himself again. The god could not continue as he was, yet Iapis saw no respite ahead. Time seemed to fester the dark god's wound instead of allowing him to heal.

“Iapis, do you know what happens when one soul mate is separated from the other?” Hades asked suddenly. He was standing in front of the window that looked out on the area of his gardens that joined the Elysia forest and eventually led to the River Lethe.

“Soul mates always find each other,” Iapis said. “You know that already, Lord.”

“But what happens if they cannot find each other because one of them has done something inexcusable?” Hades turned his head and looked blankly at Iapis.

“Can you not forgive her, Hades?”

Hades blinked and focused on the daimon's face. “Forgive her? Of course I have. She was only keeping her oath to Demeter. Carolina's sense of honor would not allow her to betray her word, not even for love. It is myself that I cannot forgive.”

“Yourself? How, Lord?”

“Carolina Francesca Santoro is a mortal woman with the courage of a goddess, and I hurt her for the most empty of reasons, to salve my own pride. I cannot forgive that in myself. How can I expect her to?”

“Perhaps it is much like the night you insulted her,” Iapis said slowly. “You have only to ask, and then be willing to remain and hear the answer.”

Hades shook his head and turned back to the window. “She bared her soul to me and I betrayed her. Now she is beyond my reach.”

“But if you would agree to see Persephone—”

“No!” Hades snarled. “I will not see a frivolous shell who mocks the soul that once resided within her body.”

“Hades, you do not know that the goddess mocks Carolina.”

“Cerberus rejected her. Orion loathed her. The dead called her a charlatan. That is knowledge enough for me,” Hades said.

“She is a very young goddess,” Iapis reminded him.

“She is not Carolina.”

“No, she is not,” the daimon said sadly.

“Leave me now, Iapis,” Hades said.

“First let me draw a bath and set out fresh clothes for you.” When Hades started to protest, Iapis blurted, “I cannot remember the last time you bathed or changed your clothing! You look worse than the newly dead.”

Hades' powerful shoulders slumped. Without looking at the daimon he said, “If I bathe and change my clothing, will you leave me in peace?”

“For a time, Lord.”

Hades almost smiled. “Then so be it, my friend.”

HADES settled back into the steaming water. The black marble pool was built into the floor of his bathing room. He rested against a wide ledge that had been carved from the side of the pool. A goblet of red wine and a silver platter filled with pomegranates and cheese had been left within reach of his hand. The few candles that were lit glowed softly through the rising steam like moonlight through mist. Hades drank deeply from the goblet of wine. He had no appetite and he ignored the food, but the wine left a satisfying wooziness in his head. Perhaps, for just one night, he would drink himself into oblivion. Then he might sleep without dreaming of her. In one gulp he upended the goblet and looked around for more. Iapis had left a pitcher close enough that he did not have to leave the soothing heat of the pool to refill his cup.