That Fatal Kiss (12 page)

Persephone quickly hid a smile at the request disguised as a demand. “I will.”

Hades made to leave but the goddess found that she wasn’t ready for him to go just yet. “Hades,” she said, waiting for him to face her before she went on, “I want you to know that…”

When Persephone’s voice trailed off, Hades softly prodded, “Know what, my dear?”

Her heart jumped, then thudded in a painful rush. Persephone had been about to acknowledge his willingness to compromise, rather than take advantage of her vulnerable position, which any of the other gods might easily have done. But now, she wasn’t sure she could say anything at all. The endearment, tossed out so frequently, so carelessly, above ground meant a great deal more below. Instinctively, Persephone knew it meant everything when uttered by Hades. “You hold me dear,” she whispered, as if to herself.

“I…yes. Yes, I do.” Hades’ brow creased. “Despite what transpired between us last night when I brought you here, it was never my intent to hurt you, but to worship you.”

Persephone felt her breathing cease. Then, annoyed by the idea that she’d swoon before long, she said, “You say that now, but wait until you know me better.” Another stunning smile transformed Hades and the goddess urged herself to guard against its charm. She admonished herself, thinking she hardly knew him, she wasn’t ready, it was too soon…

“You’re a minx,” Hades said warmly, almost as if he approved.

Hit with a sudden impulse to leap off the bed and into Hades’ arms, Persephone instead modestly cast down her eyes. “It’s kind of you to say so.”

Leaning against the portal, Hades said, “You know, Persephone, the longer you keep me here, the longer I wish to stay.”

The goddess folded her hands in her lap and primly offered, “Well, then, I’ll bid you good night.”

Hades let out another bark of laughter, then said, “That one sounded better.”

“Infinitely,” Persephone agreed with a nod.

The god returned her nod, saying, “I wish you a good night’s rest.” And he exited the room.

Persephone stared at the door for a moment before she fell back on the bed, letting out an enormous breath and thinking she would blush many times at the memory of the evening before she fell asleep. Then she let out a hushed but heartfelt curse as the invisible chains fastened about her once again.

Belatedly remembering the chains, Hades returned to the chamber to see how Persephone fared. She brought her head up, mutely requesting release for the second time that evening, exasperated. The god willed the chains open and off the bed entirely. She sat up, about to thank him until she saw his expression. He smoothed his face into bland lines, bowed formally, and took his leave once more. Persephone felt about the floor for the enchanted chains, found them, and promptly hurled them across the room.

At least
, she thought as she laid herself back down,
they served to shake away my lusty thoughts.
A yawn surprised her then and, as her eyelids fluttered, Persephone said aloud, “But for how long?”

XI.

Mount Etna, Sicily

AFTER HAVING SEARCHED
for Demeter for the better part of the day, Athena finally found her on Mount Etna, sitting on the very spot where Persephone last stood above ground. “Hail dearest Aunt, I have found you at long last!” she cried, sitting next to the Grain Goddess and pretending not to notice her tear-ravaged face. “Look, I have brought you ambrosia and sweet nectar from last night’s feast.”

Demeter gave a long, ragged sigh and looked at her niece. Her molten brown eyes, so like Persephone’s, filled with quick tears, and she said, “I thank you, Athena, but, in truth, I cannot eat a thing.”

The Goddess of Wisdom was a practical sort, and so she ate the ambrosia herself. “Any news?”

Demeter looked out over the meadows. “I have heard nothing. No one knows anything, or at least, they say they know nothing.” She brushed her golden-brown hair behind her ears. “I don’t know what to believe anymore. I never expected a thing like this could happen to one of us. Where can she be? Is she well? Who has taken her? What has become of her?” Demeter cast her eyes desperately about the darkened landscape. All the greenery and animal life that once covered Mount Etna was gone. It seemed the Earth mourned the loss of Persephone just as Demeter did. She shook her head again, saying under her breath, “Or did she intend to leave me?”

Athena kept her eyes fixed upon the food she ate, hiding the suspicious moisture brought on by her aunt’s patent anguish. But at Demeter’s last words she looked up in surprise. “Intend to leave you, Aunt? Why would Persephone wish to do such a thing?”

Demeter stared at nothing in particular, as if avoiding her niece’s gaze. “By the Heavens, girl, I know not why my daughter does anything, these days! I did know, once, but how time has changed her!”

“And how has it changed her?”

Demeter tore up a sparse clump of withered grass, rending the bits blade by blade. “She used to confide in me, you know. Every blessed thought that passed through her lively mind had to be spoken. Bleeding Uranus, how it drove me mad!” A slight smile tugged at Demeter’s lips. “We used to share everything, not long ago. But lately Persephone grew withdrawn. She was not ill-humored, exactly, but she was no longer so quick to discourse with me as before.” Her expression turned mournful again and she unhurriedly wiped back the tear that escaped her.

Athena remembered what Persephone confided before her abduction. She carefully asked, “And did this happen when she began actively seeking a mate?”

Demeter’s reddened eyes met Athena’s. “Yes! It did! But I cannot understand why. Certainly, we did have the occasional quibble over my choices for her, but I cannot conceive of that being sufficient reason for her sudden departure!”

“Your choices, Aunt?”

Demeter’s face flushed a deep red. “Well of course, girl, my choices! You cannot expect a child as green as Kore to have the experience or wisdom to choose for herself!”

The younger goddess looked back down at her food and cleared her throat. She was raising her cup to her lips when she offered, “I cannot speak for what she may have experienced, madam, but Persephone is no longer a child.”

Demeter stared hard at her niece. Her face turned ashen and her voice trembled when she asked, “Then you think I drove her away? She resented my interference in the matter so deeply that she left me because of it?”

“No!” Athena replied, taking Demeter’s hand and giving it a bracing squeeze. Because of her sworn oath to Zeus, she had to be careful. “I do not believe the facts as we know them support such a possibility. While I expect Persephone was not best pleased with how her husband-hunting was progressing, I cannot credit her with simply taking herself off and leaving you here in such a state.” She offered her aunt a teasing smile. “Besides, no matter how Persephone may have changed, you surely do not think she would have chosen flight over fight!”

Her words coaxed a bit of a smile from Demeter, though it soon faded. “Then you do believe she was abducted?”

Athena shrugged but answered truthfully. “I cannot say.”

Demeter’s gaze turned once more to the dying land. “Whatever transpired, I have to believe I might still recover her.”

The Goddess of Wisdom nodded, ardently wishing she had not been sworn to secrecy. Turning her eyes in the same direction as Demeter’s, she asked, “What do you plan to do now, Aunt?”

“Keep searching, I daresay, until I either find her or someone who knows where she is.” Demeter glanced back at Athena, smiling sadly. “Don’t blame yourself, dear.”

Athena nearly dropped her cup of nectar. “W-what?”

Demeter stroked her niece’s flaming cheek. “It is just that I know you were with her, here, on Mount Etna, when she disappeared. Knowing how you feel about Persephone, I wanted to ease your conscience. I’m certain you couldn’t have done anything to help her.”

The Warrior Goddess felt guilt consume her and had to look away. She gave Demeter’s hand another squeeze. “Thank you, Aunt, for your kind words. I vow that I will help you in any way that I am able. Soon you will have your Persephone by your side, I just know it.”

“Thank you, my dear,” Demeter said. She gathered up her things. “Well, I must begin my search anew.”

“May I accompany you?”

Demeter stood and looked down at her niece. “No, though I thank you for your kindness. And as it happens, I have Hermes out searching for her as we speak.”

Athena nodded and kept her tone neutral when she said, “That’s awfully good of him. Selfless, in fact.”

“Oh, well…” Demeter hid a mysterious smile. “He is a very good sort, in spite of his silly tricks and games. And, of course, he is very fond of Persephone.”

“Yes, I know,” the younger goddess said. “And, of course, you are very fond of
him
.”

“Well, of course!” Demeter replied, avoiding Athena’s gaze again. “Is there any reason why I should not be?”

“None at all. Tell me though, Aunt; how does he manage to find the time to aid you in your search when he is charged with so many duties as our messenger? I would think that delivering our notes, as well as escorting the shades of the mortals to Hades, would leave him precious little spare time.” She emphasized the place-name as much as she dared, hoping Demeter would take the hint.

But Demeter misunderstood Athena’s intent and behaved as though she had been discovered at something naughty. The Goddess of the Grains actually blushed as she answered, “Yes, well, he is keeping his keen eyes open for any sign of Persephone as he carries out his duties.”

“Then he has not yet seen anything?”

Demeter lost her air of mischief now and sadness once more creased her features. “Not a thing.” She looked out onto the horizon one last time before squaring her shoulders resolutely. “And now I too must be off.” She turned beseeching eyes to her niece. “You will come find me if you hear of anything?”

Disheartened that her dangerously given hint fell on fallow ground, Athena sighed very softly. “Of course.” She watched in stony silence as Demeter resumed her trek throughout the dying land. It only took a few moments for the Goddess of Wisdom to realize that, as Hermes made the trip to Erebus twice daily, he was bound to come across Persephone sooner rather than later.

On that sensible thought, Athena polished off the last of the ambrosia and enjoyed one last draught of nectar before willing away the remnants of the meal. She arose, stretched, and was about to summon a horse for the ride back home when she heard it—a low moan that came from nowhere she could readily discern. Yet it seemed to fly on a sudden gust of warm air that brushed along her legs, causing the skirts of her dress to swirl about her ankles. Athena listened for more, attempting to determine the direction of either the sound or the wind. But no more was forthcoming.

This must’ve been what Hermes heard
, she thought. The goddess looked up toward the peak of the mountain and saw a puff of smoke rise up into the Heavens. Hephaestus must be at work, of course, tempering metals over high heat or something of that kin.

Satisfied with this conclusion, Athena decided against a ride and shimmered away to her home on Olympus while another hot wind flattened the dead grasses on the mountainside.

XII.

Hades’ Palace, The Underworld

FOR THE FIRST
time since her arrival in the Underworld, Persephone felt at peace and slept long and well. Reluctant to wake, she strained to hold on to a delightful dream. In it, she and Hades strolled amiably and without haste through beautiful meadows, their hands clasped. He laughed long and heartily at her wit, only to abruptly cease his merriment and look deeply into her eyes. He pulled her close and wrapped his strong arms around her, thrilling her with his look of intent. He beheld her as one coming upon a secret treasure and sought to claim her, his prize, by bowing his head to meet hers in a kiss. She reached up to return it, enraptured, but then drew back when she found the kiss so very wet. Persephone realized she was dreaming, but still a moisture persisted at her lips. She finally opened her eyes, only to shriek at the sight of Hades’ three-headed hound. Having somehow wandered in, Cerberus employed all three tongues in lavishing adoring kisses upon his new mistress.