Persephone's Orchard (The Chrysomelia Stories) (31 page)

“Oh. I was with him. We were on an errand. Visiting another village a soul had mentioned.” They did such things sometimes, delivering important messages from the departed, but in this case it was a lie: she had been much farther north with him, several countries away.

“Are you in love with him?” Demeter asked.

Persephone dipped her flat bread into the stew. “Goodness, Mother. That’s abrupt.”

“Well, are you? You have that look about you lately. And naturally I worry.”

“I…don’t know.” When she glanced up to find Demeter looking as stricken as if she had just announced she was pregnant by Hades, Persephone added, “I know it’s unwise and there’s no possible future in it.”

“Then why do you continue seeing him?”

“I’ve told you. It’s a fascinating place. I enjoy what I’m learning and I have many projects there.”

“Does he love you? Has he tried anything?”

“He’s said and done nothing.” Unless you counted certain gazes and compliments, and the lingering way he had taken to holding her lately when given the chance…but even Persephone wasn’t sure she could count those.

“My dear, perhaps it would be better to seek new interests, if—”

“Mother, I don’t want to talk about it.”

It was only another day, however, before Demeter confronted her again, and that time Persephone liked the conversation even less.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

H
ADES LOOKED UP FROM REPAIRING
the raft at the underground river to find Aphrodite strolling toward him, her slim white tunic nearly glowing in the dim cave, her pretty face making an expression of amused dismay. “Gracious, it’s dark in here.”

He stood up, smoothing his cloak. “Aphrodite. What brings you down to this world?”

Smiling, she stroked his cheek. “Wish I could say it was my insatiable needs, but in truth I’m on an errand. Demeter’s waiting for you outside the cave.”

That surprised him even more. “Oh. Why?”

Aphrodite shrugged. “She wished to speak to you, but didn’t have the nerve to come down here. So she brought me.”

Already he began to suspect something was wrong—something to do with Persephone. “I’ll go right up.”

Aphrodite walked with him to the entrance chamber, and remounted the spirit horse she had ridden down there. Hades climbed onto one he kept saddled, and they both flew up into the summer sun. Demeter waited there, seated several paces off on a boulder, her head turned toward the sea.

“I’ve done my part,” Aphrodite said, and sent an approving glance up and down him. “Come visit me more often, won’t you?”

He felt a small thrill of flattery, and guilt along with it—as if it were a betrayal of Persephone to admire Aphrodite. He did give the goddess of love a smile, but, too unsettled about Demeter’s errand, he only waved goodbye in response and watched Aphrodite fly off. After tying up his ghost horse to a tree, he approached Demeter on foot.

“Demeter,” he said. “What can I do for you?”

She turned, and rose. “Hades.” The sea wind stirred her hair, bringing out the gold in its dark depths. “Thank you for coming up to see me.”

“Won’t you come down to the cave? I promise it’s perfectly safe, and I know you’ve never seen it.” He invited her mainly as the duty of a gracious host, but also as a challenge, to see if Demeter could be as brave and inquisitive as her daughter.

She put that question to rest at once. “No. I’d rather not, thank you. The reason I came…” She laced her fingers together at her waist. “It’s a bit awkward. Persephone’s a grown woman, of course, but she hasn’t had much experience in the way of suitors, and less still with immortal men.”

Defensive statements readied themselves on Hades’ tongue, but he held them in reserve, letting her speak.

“Lately she’s sensed that you may be attracted to her,” Demeter continued. “And it makes her uncomfortable.”

Hades’ heart plummeted. Still saying nothing, he let his gaze slip past her, unfocused, to rest on the blue of the sea.

“She likes you very much,” Demeter went on. “As a tutor. And she feels she may have accidentally given you the wrong signals, for which she’s rather embarrassed, and therefore allowed me to come speak to you instead of trying to explain it herself.” Here she paused, as if inviting him to respond.

Twisting his tongue in his dry mouth, he attempted an answer. “I had no idea she felt this way, or rather, no idea that I was making her feel…I promise, I haven’t attempted anything.”

“I know. She assures me of that. Still, for a long time I thought she wouldn’t marry, and now she does seem to be thinking of it, and…Hades, we both know—we
all
know—it isn’t possible, a mortal woman with a god.”

He gazed at the endless waves. “Indeed. I would never wish to harm her.” That, at least, he could say with fluency, as it was true.

“So, although she’s enjoyed the Underworld very much and may still wish to visit on the rare occasion, we’ve agreed her regular lessons with you should come to an end.”

He hadn’t thought it possible for his heart to sink further, but it did. “If she wishes.”

“She does. It’s for the best.” Demeter sounded apologetic.

“All right.”

She turned briskly toward her white spirit horse, reined to a pine branch. “Thank you for understanding. I’m sure we’ll see you again at a gathering before long.”

“Goodbye. And…do apologize to Persephone for me. For everything.”

She climbed astride the horse. “I will. Goodbye, Hades.”

She sped away. The souls kept streaming into the Underworld, barely visible in the bright light of day.

He didn’t wish to hurt Persephone. It was for the best. All this was true. Nevertheless, he stormed to the top of the cliff, and for the rest of the afternoon hurled boulders into the sea until even his immortal muscles ached in defeat.

“
M
Y DEAR,
I
happened to speak to Hades today,” Demeter told Persephone, as they rinsed the clay plates and pots after dinner, in the back garden’s water basin.

“Oh? How did that come about?”

Demeter peeled a wet scrap of grape leaf off a plate and flicked it into the garden. “I was visiting Aphrodite, and she had some errand to see him, so I went along. I assume she wished to arrange a personal visit from him. They do such things from time to time, I’ve heard.”

Hearing that was like getting nicked with one of the knives she was rinsing. Persephone had heard such gossip too, but had wished to disbelieve it. Not that she could deny Hades such visits, considering Persephone and other mortal women were an unsafe prospect. If anything, it was honorable of him not to look to mortals.

It still hurt. Persephone merely said, “Ah,” set aside the knife, and picked up the next.

“It would seem, darling,” continued Demeter, “that he suspects you fancy him. And flattered though he is, he wishes me to tell you that he must turn you down.”

Now it was more like getting stabbed outright. Wiping grease off the latest knife, Persephone answered, “Oh my. That’s dreadfully embarrassing. I promise, I haven’t thrown myself at him, or anything of the kind. I don’t know why he said that.”

“Men aren’t always as dense as we think. They do sense attraction, especially men who’ve been alive several decades and have figured a few things out. And, my dear, I’m afraid he isn’t interested.”

But surely he is, he must be
, Persephone wanted to wail. However, mistaking uncle-ish affection for love, in her wishful naïveté, was entirely possible. Setting the knife onto the drying cloth, she dragged a pot toward herself. “That’s fine,” she said, her voice as light as she could make it. “What future could we have had anyway?”

“Exactly. So he’s suggested you cease your regular lessons in the Underworld, and take up something new, among the rest of us. Just to get your mind off this awkwardness. You could still visit him from time to time, naturally.”

A knot of grief and humiliation swelled in Persephone’s chest. She kept speaking casually, though it became difficult. “All right. I’d like to see how my plants are coming along in the Underworld, but only once in a while, as you say.”

“As for what you might do up here, I have an idea.” Demeter dried her hands on the cloth draped over her shoulder. “Aphrodite would love to share some of her knowledge with you. Regular meetings with her could be very interesting indeed.”

“Yes, that they would be.” Persephone turned aside, drying her own hands, wondering if she could possibly face Aphrodite without withering in miserable envy.

“I realize you already know such things from your past-life memories,” said Demeter, “but even so, there are plenty of arts only she could teach you. And who knows? Among her acquaintances you might well find a mortal lad you fancied.”

The cure for one crush was another, was what Persephone supposed this idea encapsulated. But almost at once, a different possibility dawned on her, and fortified her spirits.

If anyone could help Persephone in her current predicament, it was Aphrodite. The goddess of love needn’t be a rival, and likely wasn’t. Aphrodite put no exclusive claims on any man. And as Demeter had obliviously stated, there were pieces of knowledge only Aphrodite could supply. If Persephone could learn those…well, it left her a morsel of hope, at least.

Persephone dried the knives with the cloth. “Lessons with Aphrodite. All right. I admit my curiosity is piqued.”

“
O
H,
I
WAS
jealous. So jealous.” Adrian wiped a spilled drop of coffee off the table with a paper napkin. It was Sunday, and Sophie was enjoying lunch with him, this time in Ashland, Oregon. The small, busy restaurant was decorated with wide-brimmed and feathered hats upon the walls, as befitting a town famous for its Shakespeare festival. All the tablecloths were purple with a pattern of black cats—perhaps for Halloween.

“I can’t believe she did that,” lamented Sophie. “Does that mean my dad would do that? Interfere with one of my relationships?”

Adrian rested his chin on his hand, gazing at the cat design. “Protecting your daughter from a known danger is understandable. I know the feeling.”

“From past lives, I hope.”

He laughed. “Of course. No children in this life yet.”

“Oh, good. Me neither. So, those lessons with Aphrodite…” Sophie looked out the window they sat next to. Rain streaked the glass, obscuring their view of the green hills. “Those are coming back to me today, and uh, wow.”

“Did I mention really, really jealous.”

“Right, because her, um, assistant was Adonis.” The vision bloomed in her mind: the beautiful young man about Persephone’s age, hair lightened nearly to gold by the sun, naked body patiently stretched upon the pillows for Aphrodite to demonstrate upon, and later for Persephone herself to try some acts with.

Due to having indulgent parents, Adonis hadn’t married yet, and due to being charming and pretty, he had landed the role of Aphrodite’s latest mortal plaything. After meeting Persephone, he didn’t mind sharing some of his love-goddess time with her, though it was clear to Persephone that the majority of his adoration belonged to Aphrodite.

Adrian sat back, folding his arms. “The things you did with him. Day after day. And you were jealous about me visiting Aphrodite a couple of times.” He shook his head with mock disappointment.

She laughed, but her mind flashed straight to the idea of doing such things with Adrian. He wore a white T-shirt today under his black coat, and it made his skin look especially warm and delicious. She could imagine the heat of his body through the cotton, the feel of the rivets and belt loops on his black jeans as he lay on top of her to kiss her…

Okay, yeah, they had only hugged today so far, but she was going to have to kiss him before they said goodbye, for sure.

Not that there weren’t serious risks. She sipped her coffee and set the mug into its saucer, her amorous thoughts dwindling. “That problem with mortal women getting pregnant by immortal guys—the miscarriages, deaths—is that still an issue?”

He sat forward again and picked up his coffee. “Well, none of us have tried yet, but we have to assume so. These days, I suspect there’d be fewer deaths, given we have modern medicine, but…we don’t know.”

She nodded. “I suppose that’s one of the things to study and figure out.” She took another sip of coffee. “But not today.”

He smiled gently. “No, not today.”

“So…I still can’t get past the notion that we don’t know each other from
this
life well enough.”

He nodded. “I agree.”

“We know, like, everything from past lives, and that counts for something. But it’s not like we’d even have met if it weren’t for Rhea, and the pomegranate, and all.”

“I’ve wondered about that. In the past, our souls always found a way to each other, and I figure they eventually would have this time too.”

“Or else Rhea was meant to be the way.”

“Maybe.” He sent her a shy smile, and bowed his head. “But…okay, there was this one time, before I ever met Rhea. Someone had given my dad and me a box of peaches. Like, way more peaches than anyone could need at once. So I Googled recipes for things to do with them. I was trying to learn to cook, with the hope of maybe living on my own someday. And I found your blog. You’d put up this video….”