Asphodel

AsphodelBy

Lauren Hammond

Asphodel Copyright© Lauren Hammond 2011.

This book is a work of fiction. All rights reserved. No part of this book shall be used or reproduced in any manner without written permissionexcept for quotations embedded in articles and reviews.

For information contact info@sbaddisonbooks.com

Portions of this novel are fictitious and drawn completely from the author's imagination. Those portions including, dialogue, incidents, andcharacters are not to be construed as real.

Cover design by: Jeremy West

ISBN:9780983868163

This book is dedicated to all the amazing book bloggers in the world who take the time to promote and spread the word about their favoritebooks and support authors they love. Many, many thanks to all of you.

Prologue

Mount Olympus, Ancient Greece

Hades barreled into Zeus, knocking him to the ground. The clash of their bodies sent a rippling clap of thunder through the sky. Zeus rose to hisfeet and with one flick of his finger, sent Hades flying through the air. Hades hit the ground with a thud. “You promised,” he growled, picking himselfup. “You aren’t about to go back on your word, are you?”

“I know you want a queen, but maybe now isn’t the right time,” said Zeus.

“We had a deal,” Hades said, taking a few steps closer.

“I know we did and I am not going back on it.”

Hades knew exactly where this was going. Either Zeus had grown attached to this child or he had not yet informed the mother of hisarrangement with Hades. “So, what are you suggesting?”

“I want you to wait for my next born.”

Hades shook his head. “I’ve waited seventeen years already. Do you have any idea what it’s like to be alone all the time?”

“I know you have been patient and your patience will not go unrewarded.”

This was bold of Zeus, but Hades could not be bargained with. “Perhaps you need more time to think it over.”

“My decision has been made, Hades. There is nothing to think about.”

Hades was about to explode when Demeter walked into the Hall of the Gods.

“Come Persephone,” she said, extending her hand behind her. Persephone grabbed Demeter’s hand and walked alongside her mother.

Hades lingered in the back of the room next a marble column and watched the young maiden. She was delicate and beautiful, with long willowylimbs, reddish-brown hair, and stunning jade green eyes.

He observed her for a while, smitten. Then assumed that she must be the child Zeus promised to him. He’d only been watching her for minutesand already this woman had his mind in a blunder. Closing his eyes, he listened attentively to the sound of her sweet voice and smiled to himselfwhen her infectious laugh echoed through the hall.

Upon his descent to the underworld Hades came up with a plan. If Zeus wasn’t going to give him the girl, he was simply going to take her. Andhe’d make Zeus aware because in reality there was nothing he could do to stop him.

Hades

Present Day

Sirens howled in the distance followed by honking car horns and tires peeling out. Hades propped himself up against a building, invisible to thehuman eye, and watched with a blank expression as an ambulance hurled around the street corner, it’s white and red lights turning in a circularmotion.

A man lied in the middle of the street. His limbs were twisted and broken and blood oozed from every opening on the man’s face. His chestrose up lightly and even though he was feet away, Hades heard the man’s raspy, wheezing breaths. The Commander of the Dead felt the man’s lifeslipping away. With every weak breath that escaped the man’s lungs, he crept closer and closer to Hades’ grasp.

The man was hit by a bus. It was tragic, really. Hades had seen it happen, yet he did nothing to prevent it. That was the way the world worked.Mortals were born and died every day. It was not his place to interfere, even though he could if he really wanted to.

Police blocked off the scene of the accident with bright orange cones and yellow caution tape and a crowd of onlookers had formed to watchas the paramedics placed the unknown man on a gurney. Women cried out and a few of them were being comforted by their male partners. Hadesclosed his eyes and began to feel bits and pieces of the man’s life flash before his eyes. This occurred every time a soul was about to cross into hisrealm. This gave the God of the Dead the ability to administer proper judgment and proper placement once the souls of the departed reached him.

Using his invisibility cloak, Hades faded into the chaos of the crowd and hovered over the dying man. He reached out, prepared to latch ontothe man’s wrist and pull him under when he’d heard a wild shriek in the crowd. “Jake! Jake!”

Hades straightened up and looked over his shoulder as a woman sprinted through the crowd of onlookers, pushing and shoving the ones in herway. Her strands of chestnut hair slapped against her face, her ivory cheeks were flushed and her eyes were rimmed in red. She howled outanother painful shriek. “Jake! No! No!”

Hades stepped back as the woman reached the gurney and hurled her body over the dying man’s. Agony flashed in the woman’s hazel eyesas she ran her trembling fingers over the man’s mangled face. She sobbed, her voice strangled as the paramedics and police officers tried to pullher off the man. “No! No!” She fought them off, her arms flailing, her legs jetting out as she tried to kick the cops and paramedics. “Don’t die on me,Jake! Don’t die on me! I love…I love you!”

“Ma’am, we have to get him to a hospital!” a paramedic cried. “He needs medical attention!”

After a few more strenuous attempts the cops were able to pry the woman off of the man, they escorted her to the ambulance and helped herinto the back. And she sat there, sobbing into her palms while the paramedics loaded the body. Once the gurney was secure, the woman laced herfingers through the man’s, lifted his hand to her mouth and kissed the man’s fingertips.

Hades waited until the paramedics closed the ambulance door before appearing inside. He watched the woman, a fierce loving look in hereyes as she brushed her thumb against the man’s limp hand. Her emotion struck Hades in a way he hadn’t been struck in centuries. He felt for her.Normally when he witnessed death he remained indifferent and just accepted what had occurred, but for some reason he couldn’t understand whythis situation seemed different.

Maybe because he knew what it was like to love someone and watch them slip through grasp eternally. He’d been after his love for at least fivethousand years. Chasing her from state to state, city to city, and from continent to continent. He’d suffered in pain every time he lost her. And he’dlost her a lot.

Standing there in the ambulance, persuaded by his own feelings Hades did something he rarely ever did. He leaned over the dying man’smouth, sucked in a deep breath, and breathed life back into him. The man’s eyes flew open and he coughed out, gasping for air. The woman’seyes bulged out and she cried tears of joy as she kissed every bruise on the man’s face.

A soft smile crawled across Hades’ lips as he vanished from the ambulance and returned to his realm. He sat down rigidly still on his throneand gazed out into the black abyss of nothingness known as the underworld. The realm in which he was the tyrannical ruler of. He peered over hisshould to his right, then to his left. The quiet engulfed him until all he heard were his own thoughts.

At times he cursed Zeus for damning him to a realm of nothingness, death, and despair, but then again there were times where he’d alsopraised Zeus. Hades had never been like the other God’s and Goddesses that previously dwelled on Mount Olympus. The wicked and despicablethings he was capable of would haunt them to the core. He was sure of it.

Through the centuries, the tasks of running his realm had become tedious and repetitive to Hades. The task of damning the souls that hadcrossed the river Styx into his domain was becoming tiresome for the deceitful king. Of course he still had Cerberus, his dog, man’s best friend. Cerberus had proven to be extremely loyal. At times the three headed beast’s howling and barking would annoy Hades to the point, where heconsidered cutting off all three of Cerberus’s heads. But that was only a mere thought.

The gentle yet fierce guardian hobbled into the throne room, all three tongues hanging out. The dog whimpered and let out a soothing yelp asHades gently stroked the dog’s middle head. “Good boy.”

The God of the Dead’s attention averted to the grandfather clock in the corner of the room and Cerberus’s spine stiffened as Hades rose upfrom his throne. “Stay,” he commanded the three headed dog that Hades called his only loyal companion over the last five thousand years.Cerberus howled and lied down on the floor, lowering all three of his heads in a gesture of obedience.

Hades lips turned up into a wry smile as he walked out of his throne room. Perhaps his kindness today was a sign. Perhaps he was close togetting her. The one and only person he’d ever been enamored with. The Goddess he’d been chasing for the last five thousand years.

****

It was fifteen minutes to midnight and Hades, God of death and destruction, paced along the banks of the river Styx with his hands balled intofists at his sides. Charon was late with today’s shipment of souls and that left Hades feeling uneasy. Hades didn’t like uncertainty. He ran a tightschedule in the realm of the dead and when the impervious schedule was interrupted, well, he knew Charon would be wise to stay away from himfor the rest of the day.

He stopped mid-pace, kicking grey sand and focused on the fog, rising from the brownish, green murky waters of the Styx. There was aninternal clock in his brain, ticking and as Hades closed his eyes he envisioned the hands of the clock moving as the minutes dwindled by. Filled withworry and impatience, Hades tapped his foot, folding his arms and drummed his fingers against his elbow. Anxiousness unfurled beneath his skinlike a flesh-eating parasite. “The one day that I need him to be on time and he’s late,” Hades growled as he began pacing again.

Sand crunched as the rubber soles of his boots smashed it down and the noise ricocheted off the walls of the cavern—the opening—thecrossing where the land of the living met with the land of the dead. The slick brown stone walls glistened with sludge, a slimy residue from the Styx’schoppy waters. Hades’ eyes centered on that sludge as he thought about all the punishment’s he’d have in store for Charon if he took any longer.But, before he came up with one, the soft plunking of wooden oars throbbed in his ears. Then the plunking intensified turning into slapping. Charonwas close.

Hades stood on the edge of the dock as the old, feeble ferryman parked his ship, full of the dearly departed and descended down the ropeladder. Charon stood before his master clutching the brim of his hat, his fingers trembling. “I’m sorry master. So sorry.” Charon lowered his headand few wisps of white hair stood up while the lighting bounced off the bald parts.

“What was the hold-up?” Hades asked, gruffly.

Charon kept his head low, talking at his feet. “We had an indecisive soul, sire.”

An indecisive soul was the soul of a mortal who was stuck in the between, not quite in the land of the living, but still not able to cross fully intothe land of the unliving. Hades scanned the row of occupants on the ferry, infuriated. “Which one was it?” His tone was flat and cold.

Charon lifted his head and nodded at a teenage boy in the back of the ship. “Him.”

Hades glared at the boy pre-adult boy, whose hazel eyes glistened with tears. Seconds later, Hades disappeared, reappearing in front of theboy. Fear crept up the mortal’s spine and he stiffened, unable to move. Then he started shaking. Hades examined him, hoping to scorch him withhis gaze. Rage bubbled inside of the mighty God and Hades boomed, “Aren’t you a man?” The boy lowered his head and Hades blanched as hesniffled. But the boy did not answer.

“Answer me!” Hades screamed, shaking the entire ferry. The other passengers turned, eyeing Hades, fearfully.

“I’m, I’m only fifffteen,” the boy whimpered, stuttering at the same time.

Hades exhaled as the rage inside of him died down. He relaxed his stance slouching over, slightly. Even though, the young boy had taken toomuch of his time and Hades contemplated sending him to the depths of Tartarus, he knew couldn’t. Not because he wasn’t able to, but becausedespite his cold demeanor and mischievous ways, He had always been a fair and just God. And the boy didn’t deserve to spend an eternity beingtortured endlessly. “Stand up,” He instructed the teen, calmly.

The boy rose from his seat, trying desperately to lock his trembling knees in place. Hades placed his hand on the boy’s shoulder and the youngteen blanched, turning away. “Do not fear me,” Hades said boldly. Slowly, the boy turned toward Hades, peaking up at him from the corner of hiseye. Then the God of the Dead closed his eyes and recited the same thing he’d recited for the last five-thousand years. “The realm of the deadwelcomes you. Go forth and find your home in the Field of Asphodel so that you may live out your eternity in peace.”

Every soul on the ferry vanished. They’d been assigned to their forever. And then Hades vanished, appearing in his throne room. Walls of blackand matching black marble tile floors engulfed him and he sat back on the red, velvet cushioned throne. He looked up at a cast-iron clock on thewall. Seven minutes to midnight. In seven minutes, he’d have another opportunity to take her, hopefully his last.

He recalled the first time saw her in the Hall of the Gods, trailing behind Demeter. Her mahogany hair glistened red in the sunlight. Her skinwas a creamy peach color. And her eyes were the most stunning shade of Jade-green he’d ever seen.

Hades had been chasing Demeter and her daughter for five-thousand years. He hadn’t been chasing them for his own purposes, either. Well,

his own purpose was a small part of why he’d been chasing them. There were two other main reasons why he’d been after Demeter and herdaughter for the last five thousand years; the first was he wanted to teach Zeus a lesson for going back on their deal. The second, because he feltsomething the first time he saw her that was too powerful to deny.

In the past, Demeter was always able to out-smart him. Demeter had always kept her daughter close—too close. But with every passingcentury, Hades felt himself getting closer and closer.

Hades had a feeling that during this seventeen year span it would be different. He would finally get what he’d always longed for, a queen. Orwho he’d always longed for Persephone.

Demeter

It was five minutes until midnight and Demeter knew there was no way that she’d be able to sleep. Red burned into her eyes from the digitalclock on the nightstand. 11:56 another minute slipped away.

One day every seventeen years Demeter suffered through a sleepless night. She couldn’t sleep before midnight because she was too worriedabout what she knew would happen to her daughter. And she couldn’t sleep afterwards because she feared that when she woke up in the morning,he might have visited her daughter in the night and stole her from her bed.

Demeter had tried for thousands of years to out-run Hades. She was smart, moving with her daughter like a nomad from place to place—fromcentury to century, but Hades was smarter. He always found them. It didn’t matter how discreet they were or what continent they were living on.Hades found them every time.

Demeter had even tried using transformation magic to shield her appearance and her child’s from death himself, but not even some of herpowers were of any use because he was that much more powerful. One time, on an off year Hades had visited Demeter while her child was atschool. She had been at the kitchen sink, washing dishes and she didn’t even need to look up to know he was behind her. The moment he enteredthe room a slight chill whipped through the lavender curtains right above the kitchen sink. Demeter tensed up, gripping onto the tan ceramic plate inher left hand and let go of the dish sponge. “What do you want, Hades?”

He crept closer to her, the sound of his footsteps pounded into the hardwood floor. “I think you know what I want, Demeter,” he stated calmly. “Ithink you’ve always known what I want.”

Demeter spun around, pressing her back into the crème counter-top, facing the commander of all things unliving and sneered. “You won’t everget what you want, Hades. I will never let you have her.”

Hades laughed, his rich deep voice bordered along the lines wickedness and insanity as it filled the confined rectangular room. “Oh, I will gether, Demeter.” Hades glided closer, snatching her wrist and squeezed it hard. So hard, that Demeter’s knees buckled and slammed into thehardwood floor. Hades wasn’t able to kill her, but he was able to cause her agonizing pain.

At first, the pain felt like a mild bug bite, irritating, but tolerable. Then as it spread through her body, the pain became so excruciating, Demetercouldn’t breathe. She panted, trying to be strong, but it was no use. As Hades squeezed her wrist tighter, she felt like her limbs were being rippedfrom her by a pack of hungry hyenas. “Stop!” she cried. “Stop! Releasing her from his grasp, Hades backed away as Demeter hunched over,curling up into the fetal position. As the pain subsided a swirl of coldness flourished through her and her breathing returned to normal.

She glared at Hades giving him a look full of hatred and brutality. Hades smiled, amused. “I knew you’d see things my way. Perhaps, Demeter,we can come to some sort of arrangement.”

Demeter knew better than to bargain with the master of deceit. She struggled to pick herself up and lost her balance, slamming both of herpalms into the floor. She pushed herself up again, with more force and knelt down. Then she gripped the counter and hoisted herself up, clutchingthe edge of the counter tightly as she steadied herself.

“So,” said Hades as her examined his hands. “Do we have a deal then?”

She rolled her shoulders, cracked her neck, and spun around full of so much anger that she trembled. “Never,” Demeter growled, half-raspinghalf-whispering.

Hades charged toward her. “Oh, apparently I haven’t persuaded you to see things my way enough.”

He was centimeters away, but Demeter was ready for him. She snapped her arms back and clasped her hands together as a gust of windunfurled from her fingertips. A gust of wind so forceful that it knocked Hades backwards and blew him out the front door.

Exhausted, Demeter crouched down against the cherry-stained wooden cabinets and slouched. She hated using her powers while living inclose proximity with the mortals, but Hades gave her no choice.

From that moment on, she knew that she hadn’t been protecting her daughter to the best of her abilities. She had to step up her game becauseHades would not and probably would never take no for an answer.

The next day she’d packed up their belongings. “Time to move,” she said, taping up a box full of dishes.

“What no!” Persephone cried. “But we haven’t even been here a year!” She sat down with a slouch, whimpering softly.

It broke Demeter’s heart to see her daughter so upset. She knew how much Persephone wanted normalcy. And sadly Demeter wished their

situation was different, but it wasn’t. She and her daughter were who they were, immortal goddesses. Not only that, but they were immortalgoddesses on the run from death himself. They weren’t a normal family and never would be.

One minute to midnight and Demeter rose from her bed, creeping toward her bedroom door. In sixty seconds all hell would break loose like ithad so many times before.

Persephone

“Persephone,” he hisses. “Come to me.”

A shrill, deafening cry escapes from my lips. My lungs expand as I suck in more air and my throat is raw—chafed, flakes of dry skin beingpeeled away after a sun burn.

I bolt upright in my bed as my mother bursts through the door. Hysteria washes over me. I gasp and choke on a ball of air wedged in the middleof my esophagus. Fighting. I’m fighting for the oxygen to leave my lungs.

My mother sweeps me up into her arms and whispers comforting words into my ears. “Hush, darling. It’s all right.”

I let out long ragged breaths, finally able to breathe. Tears matriculate in my eyes. I bite them back as beads of sweat drizzle down myforehead and my arms and legs begin to convulse.

Mom squeezes me tighter, controlling my flailing limbs. “Calm down, sweetheart,” she consoles me. “It was only a dream.”

But this isn’t a dream. This is a voice, life-like and real. A voice that has been coming to me on my seventeenth birthday for as long as I canremember. No matter where I am or what I’m doing, every seventeen years he comes to me, taunting me. And it’s always the same thing,Persephone. Come to me. The reality of it haunts me. This is not a figment of my imagination.

“It feels so real,” I mumble, suddenly exhausted.

“Sometimes dreams feel more real than not,” my mother says, tucking me underneath the covers. “Go back to sleep, love.”

“Persephone,” he hisses again. “Come to me. Come to me. Come to me.”

The voice blurs and fades, like a faint cry riding on the tails of the wind. I yawn and stretch, rolling over. I fold my pillow under my head and waitfor the voice to return. When I hear nothing but the sound of my own breathing I allow myself to drift back into a dreamless slumber.

****

“Happy Birthday!” my mother squeals. Her face inches away from mine.

I open one eye squinting, still half asleep. “Thanks,” I grumble and roll over.

“No way, young lady.” She rips my comforter off me. “Time to wake up.”

“Ugh. Isn’t it supposed to be my day?” I whine. “Can’t you let me sleep a little longer?”

She smirks, shaking her head. “Nope. You have school.”

Hurling my legs over the side of the bed, I rise slowly and my eyes adjust to the bright lighting in my room. My mother observes me for a secondthen tears well up in her eyes.

“Don’t cry, Mom.” It bothers me seeing her so emotional.

“I can’t help it,” she sniffles. “My baby is almost an adult.”

I roll my eyes. “Mom, do you have to do this every seventeen years? My real seventeenth birthday was like forever ago.”

She pulls a tissue out of the pocket of her violet cardigan and blows her nose. “That’s the beauty of being immortal my dear. You never run outof seventeenth birthdays.”

Most of the time I thought of our immortality as being more of a curse than a blessing. I imagine most humans would cherish the opportunity tonever grow old. In the beginning of my life, I have to say it was fascinating. But living forever does become tiresome, when a person has beenaround as long as I have.

“Get ready for school, honey,” she commands. “After you get home, I’ve got a fun day planned for us.”

“Ugh,” I groan. “Can’t I just have a quiet, low-key birthday for once?”

She tucks a loose piece of her auburn hair behind her ear. “Now what kind of mother would I be if we did that?”

A mother who actually listens to what her daughter wants. “Fine,” I say, defeated. “I’ll be downstairs in a little bit.”

She kisses my forehead gently. “Good.” Then she walks out of my room.

At my dresser, I slide open the top drawer. The cherry stained wooden container is relatively new and the smell of fresh cedar hasn’t faded yet.I inhale deeply, filling my lungs with the musky scent and I adore it. Any scent reminding me of the outdoors is something that I’ll never get tired of.Being the Goddess of Springtime probably has something to do with that.

Reaching into the drawer, I fumble through my assortment of underwear and inch my fingers toward the bottom. I graze my fingertips over asmooth flat object. My journal. I retrieve it and set it on top of my dresser. Another year. Another birthday. Keeping track of all of my birthdays issomething I’ve done for ages. In fact, I’ve got about twenty crates in our attic reminding me of how many birthdays have accrued over the years.

We left Greece five-thousand years ago and have never looked back.

“Why are we leaving?” I’d once asked.

My mother didn’t elaborate. “Don’t ask questions. Just gather your things.”

I have it on good authority that my mother had a reason for making me flee the only home I knew. But I never asked her any questions aboutwhy we were leaving after that. I simply did as I was told.

Flipping through the pages of my journal, I found the spot where I’d written in it last. Three more pages to go. Two more birthdays, then I’ll needa new one.

“Hurry up in there!” Mom’s voice has a nagging tone to it. “You’re going to be late!”

“I’m coming!”

I pick up a pen off my dresser and write down the same thing I write every seventeen years.

My Seventeenth Birthday-April 25, 2011

Location-Klamath Falls, Oregon.

The voice came again.

The first time I heard the voice was shortly after we had left Greece. Back then, when it came to me, it was a soft, rhythmic, seductive voice thatwrapped around me like crushed velvet, a deep tone that caressed me, making my spine tingle. I felt drawn to it. Curiosity plagued me. I knew itwas a man. The all-around over-powering, voice didn’t belong to a woman.

For centuries, the whole complexity of this situation puzzled me. Who exactly was this person? Why was he trying to reach out to me? What didhe want from me?

After hearing the voice for five seventeenth birthdays in a row, I went to my mother and told her about it. I don’t really know what I had expectedfrom her but, it wasn’t laughter. After she contained herself, she had me convinced that I was dreaming this voice up. Until seventeen years later, itcame again. And after mentioning it to her once well, her reaction made me never mention it again.

****

I enter the kitchen. An incessant plunking noise echoes from the sink as droplets of water from the faucet drip into the metal basin. Other thanthat, it’s silent. My eyes dart around the empty, organized room. “Mom, where are you?”

No answer.

In the middle of the kitchen table is a bowl of fruit. A loud, rolling rumble escapes my belly. I stare at the fruit, thinking it looks vaguely familiar.The round reddish fruit resembles a plum, but slightly larger. I’m starving and it looks delicious. Pulling out a chair I plop down in front of the bowl.Buried in the center, tucked between the balls of round deliciousness is a white card. “Hmm.” I pick the card up and scan it.

Happy Birthday.

Love,

H

“H? Who is H?”

I shrug and toss the card aside. Maybe he knows my mother. It has to be someone she knows and I think that them sending me a bowl of fruitfor my birthday is an awfully kind gesture.

After grabbing the biggest piece, I bring the plump, fruit to my lips. I open my mouth to take a bite when I hear my mom scream. I face her, mymouth still hanging open, the fruit still in my hand.

“What are you doing?” she shrieks, races toward me, and slaps the fruit out of my hand. It hits the floor with a thud and rolls under the kitchentable. “What were you thinking?” She’s panicking, fumbling as she tries to move a chair, and mumbling incoherent words under her breath. Her facetwitches and she scrambles to pick the fruit up off the floor.

I’ve never seen her like this. I’ve never seen her so unglued. “What’s wrong with you?” I’m so confused and concerned. Why is she freaking outover a piece of fruit?

She palms the fruit and waves it my face. “What were you trying to do with this?”

“Trying to do with it? I was gonna eat it. I’m hungry.”

Her eyes widen and the rosy color fades from her cheeks. “You do not eat this, you hear me!”

I’m puzzled by her wild and crazy antics. “It’s just a piece of fruit.”

She exhales and a calm look forms on her face. Then she places the fruit in her hand on top of the pile and carries the bowl over to the counter.“If you’re hungry I’ll make you some oatmeal.”

Something is going on. She’s keeping something from me. “What’s going on, Mom? Is there something you’re not telling me?”

“There is nothing going on, Persephone. I just don’t want you to eat the fruit, okay. We don’t know where it came from.”

I snatch the index card from the table. “I do. Someone named H.”

Her head turns slowly, her eyes slant. She’s silent for a moment, then her turquoise eyes widen, burning into my jade-green ones. “Who?”

She walks toward me as I flip the card over and stare at my name. “All it says is Happy Birthday, love H.”

A worried look appears on her face aging her youthful features in a matter of seconds. She rips the card from my hand and crumbles it in herpalm.

“Hey!” I protest. “That was mine!”

“You’re going to be late for school.” Her tone is vacant and she stares off in a trance.

Standing, I fling my back pack over my shoulder. She’s right. I do have to get to school, but I’m not going to just forget about what happened.And I have every intention of bringing this up again when I get home.

Persephone

As I walk down my porch steps, thoughts involving my mother’s erratic behavior remain constant. I just don’t understand. What’s with all thecraziness? What kind of fruit was she keeping me from eating? I know I’ve seen the fruit somewhere before. But where? Ugh. I rack my brain, tryingto remember, but five thousand years of memories are way too many to sort through at one time.

What bothers me more than anything is, no matter what mom tells me, I know she’s lying to me about something.

For the last five thousand years we’ve been on the run, moving every decade sometimes less than a decade. The shortest amount of timewe’ve spent in one place is six months. In all, I’ve lived on every continent, in at least seventy five thousand cities, sometimes more than once, andall fifty states. And I’ve never known what or who we’ve been running from.

Mom blames it on the mortals. She says we have to blend. But eventually blending isn’t enough. Then we move and begin the blending processall over again.

Even though mom says the mortals are why we move so often I’ve always had this gut feeling that it’s more than that. There’s another reasonbecause mom knows as well as I do that the mortals aren’t the reason why we left Greece. We left for another reason, something mom refuses toexplain. Her vagueness makes me questions her methods every time we pack up and globe trot.

Could we be running from the man behind the voice?

I’m so involved in my theories, talking to myself, and keeping my eyes on the ground that I don’t even see him coming. Before I can stop myself,I run into him and stumble. He grabs both of my arms and steadies me. “Hey, you.” His voice is full of warmth. “You feeling okay?”

I lift my head and gaze at him. My head spins. I’m dizzy. “Hi, Adonis,” I say and greet him with a nervous smile. “I’m fine. I’m just a little ticked atmy Mom.”

Adonis moved next door a few months ago. Him moving here was strange, almost like he blew in with the wind. I could have sworn I saw Mrs.Darwin, the kind little old lady who’d lived there her entire life out in the front yard, gardening a week before he moved in. Then one day, a few daysbefore he showed up she was gone. But I just shrugged it off. She was old and I figured she either died or her kids put her in a home.

Adonis is a year older than me and he usually walks with me to school in the morning. He flashes me a brilliant smile and I quietly take a deepbreath. I’ve never in all my years living seen a teenage boy that looked like him. He’s too beautiful for words.

His touch makes me sizzle and I feel like I’m starting to grow limp. He releases me and backs away. The early morning sun kisses his bronzedskin and he looks like he’s shimmering. A sinful smirk and two dimples later and I feel like I can’t breathe.

“You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah. Fine.”

We start walking and Adonis reaches into his book bag and hands me a piece of paper. “Happy Birthday,” he says.

My heart flutters and my pulse races. Perspiration forms on my hands. I try to find words, but I’m flustered. As he looks away I wipe my sweatypalms on my pants. “Adonis, you didn’t have to get me anything.”

Sometimes he does little things like this that make me wonder if he’s interested in us being more than just friends who walk to school together.One time he picked me a bouquet of wildflowers. Another time he’d sent me a get well card when I lied about being home with the flu. School isn’tthat important to someone like me. I can’t even count how many times I’ve actually graduated high school. The only reason I go at all is because ofmom and her blending routine. So I fake being sick a lot.

Adonis is always smiling at me and I catch him staring at me every day during lunch even though he has a dozen girls at his table swooningover him.

On top of that, he’s a gentleman, always holding the door open for me when we leave school. He offers to carry my back pack or books orwhatever I’m holding at the time and he always asks me if I want to hang out. And it rips me open inside when I have to refuse.

Mom doesn’t let me have friends. And she definitely wouldn’t let me have a boyfriend. A boyfriend would earn me a round trip ticket to anotherstate. I remember one of our debates a few years back when we were living in Massachusetts. A kid from my class who I sort of had a crush on,kissed me and I’d let him. The kiss took place on the front steps of the school, in front of the entire student body, and in front of mom who had beenwatching it unfold from her mini-van. I took my time walking to the car that day because I could see her face, twisted and bunched up from the schoolsteps. She was furious.

“That’s it!” she’d shouted. Pack up. We’re moving.”

“Mom, no!” I’d protested. “It was just a kiss.”

“Persephone,” she’d said sternly. “You know we’re not like the mortals. If we stay in one place for too long or get too close they’ll start tosuspect something. Don’t whine. Pack your things. We leave tomorrow morning.”

I like Oregon. I’m not ready to leave yet.

Adonis gazes into my eyes. “I wanted to. It’s nothing much. Just something I saw in a department store downtown that I thought you’d like. Anddon’t get mad,” he says. “I know you said you hate celebrating your birthday, but it reminded me of you.”

I beam and laugh giddily. “I’m not mad. I’m just saying you didn’t have to.”

He stops in front of me and I come to a halt. “Open it.” His amber eyes shimmer like topaz gems in the sunlight and are filled with excitement.

Eagerly, I rip into the paper and my breathing stops. “Oh my. Adonis, it’s beautiful.” Fanned out along the heel of my hand is a delicate silverbracelet with an ornate rose charm dangling from it.

“Let me put it on you,” he says with a smile.

After I shove the excess wrapping paper in my book bag, I hold my wrist out and he fastens the bracelet. Lifting my hand, I marvel at the gift andas the sun catches the charm, it glistens.

I shoot him a patronizing look. “Seriously though, how much did something like this cost?”

“Don’t you worry about it. It’s your birthday.”

“Still. You could have spent your money on something you wanted or needed. Instead you spend it on a gift me.”

He shakes his head as a smile spans across his lips. “I have all I want and need. Just do me a favor and enjoy the gift.”

A flicker of light reflecting off the bracelet catches my eye and I look down at it again. Then I glimpse at Adonis, but he doesn’t meet my gaze.He’s staring straight ahead, his amber eyes sparkling, and a radiant smile as bright as the sun on his lips. An uneasy feeling swirls around in mygut. This is not a friendly gift. This is a gift that says he wants to be more than friends and that scares the Goddess out of me.

****

Klamath Falls high isn’t a school that holds very many secrets. Every morning as I walk to my locker, I know what to expect. I know that KatePerry and Grant Pierce will me making out in front of the mass of black metal and I know that I’ll have to shove them aside with my shoulder just toget my books. I know that Mr. Doyle, the gym teacher will be standing at the end of the hall checking his watch periodically to make sure there aren’tany stragglers lingering in the halls after the bell rings. And I also know that the popular kids will stroll past me flashing me scowls before they breakout into a hymn of whispers.

I’ve been here since I was a freshman and despite my efforts to be friendly, they’ve never warmed to me. When we’d first moved here, I knewtrying to talk to people would be difficult. Klamath Falls is a small town and the townspeople and students have been sorted into their own socialcircles since they were children. There’s no room for someone like me in those existing cliques. There’s no room for a freak anywhere.

One of the cheerleaders in my biology class labeled me a freak about three months after I’d started high school. During biology, I had a weakmoment where I noticed a dying rose on the teacher’s desk. Just the sight of the rotting petals and wilted stem made my heart ache. So when theteacher wasn’t looking, I touched the flower and it magically came back to life. The vibrant red petals regained their full color and the wrinkles in thestem faded away.

Sasha Ferrar’s mouth had dropped open and her emerald eyes followed me back to my seat and then she looked over her shoulder. “Whatdid you do, freak?”

All of the Immortal Olympians are gifted with special powers. In my opinion, I’ve been cursed with the lousiest one. The only thing I can do isrevive dead plants. My dad, Zeus can shift into any animal he wants or shoot bolts of lightning from his fingertips. Why can’t I do something like that?

Ever since that day, I never slipped up again. My façade of normalcy is too precious and I prayed every day that my mom would never find outabout the incident. She didn’t. Sasha eventually forgot about the rose, but the freak name stuck to me like a sign on the back that says ‘kick me’.

I enter my first period class—which is English and this semester we are studying Mythology. Kind of ironic, isn’t it?

Mrs. Kirk, the petite mousy teacher leans against her desk as I slide into my seat. A strand of my mahogany hair breaks free from my ponytail.At first I try blowing the strand out of my face. I give up when the reddish brown strip only moves a centimeter so I tuck it behind my ear.

Marisol Nicholls plops down next to me. Red flushes her ivory cheeks as she fumbles through her folders. She mumbles a string of choicewords under her breath and nervously brushes her curly orange hair over her shoulder. I smile amused. “You okay, Mar?”

“Argh. I can’t find that print-out Mrs. Kirk gave us yesterday,” she whines. “I have a hard enough time in this class as it is.”

Marisol flips through her textbook. She’s the only person I can call an acquaintance. We talk in school and sometimes we text and there havebeen a few times where we’ve wrote on each other’s Facebook walls, but that’s all our relationship consists of. I wish she could be my friend. I wishwe could do all the things I’ve seen other girl best friends do. Have sleepovers, go shopping, and maybe even crash a few parties. But every time Ithink about it, a vivid picture of mom holding out two plane tickets pops into my head and I remember that I’m lucky we haven’t moved yet.

Marisol pulls a sheet of paper out of the back of her text book. She kisses it and I laugh. “Thank the Gods,” she jokes. After she lays the paperflat on her desk, she turns toward me. “Hey! I almost forgot. Happy Birthday, P!”

The bell rings and Mrs. Kirk’s head snaps to her left. Her beady grey eyes zoom in on Marisol. “Miss Nicholls, is there something you’d like toshare with the rest of the class?”

Marisol drops her head and slinks down in her seat. “No,” Marisol answers quietly.

Her eyes flash over to mine as Mrs. Kirk faces the class. “Thank you,” I mouth with a smile.

“Okay, class!” Mrs. Kirk announces as she reaches over her shoulder to grab a wicker basket. “Take a piece of paper from the basket andpass it to the person behind you. And do not open your paper until everyone has one.” She walks over to me and hands me the basket. I take apiece of folded up paper and pass it to the person behind me.

Once everyone has a paper, Mrs. Kirk takes the basket back and sets it on the edge of her desk. “Alright.” She clasps her hands togetherexcitedly. “Open your papers.”

The rustling of paper echoes throughout the classroom. I stare down at my paper as a smug grin crawls across my lips. Marisol hangs out ofher desk, straining to see the name on my paper. “Who did you get?”

I hold up the paper so she can get a clear look. “Demeter, you?” Inside an explosion of glee travels through me. I will definitely get an A on thisassignment. Demeter, Goddess of the Harvest is my mom. It’s not that I really need to focus on getting good grades; it’s that it makes me feel morenormal if I do.

Marisol falls back into her seat, slumping. “Hades,” she grumbles. “How come everyone else always gets the good ones?”

A soft laugh leaves my throat at the sight of Marisol sulking like a child. “I’m sure the God of the Dead could be interesting.”

She rolls her eyes. “More like the God of Dread.

“I’ll help you if you want,” I offer.

Marisol perks up, her eyes glistening with hope. “Would you trade me?”

“You cannot trade!” Mrs. Kirk pipes up.

Marisol exhales and winces. “Bummer.”

“This will be your final essay assignment,” Mrs. Kirk announces as she walks around to sit down at her desk. “It’s going to make up eightypercent of your grade.”

I hiss softly, trying to get Marisol’s attention. I lower my hand with the paper in it, and her eyes meet mine. She drops her head slowly, finallycatching on to what I’m doing. A bright smile curls on her lips and she snatches the paper from my hand and replaces it with hers. Mrs. Kirk won’tknow we switched. She didn’t ask us who we’d selected. Plus she’s not paying attention at the moment.

The small crumpled up piece of paper with Hades in black permanent marker fills my vision. Surprisingly, Hades is a God I don’t know muchabout. I’ve never asked about him and on top of that, mom refuses to talk about the commander of the Underworld.

I recall one story she told me about him centuries ago.

“Hades is the master of deception and trickery,” she’d told me. “When Zeus had problems with the mortals, Hades summoned a beast from thedepths of Tartarus to teach humanity a lesson. You see he envied Zeus for giving him command of the realm of the dead. So in return he pretendedto use his beast to do Zeus’s bidding, but he’d really only intended to use the Kraken for his own selfish reasons.”

“The Kraken?” I’d questioned.

“A monstrous beast over one hundred feet tall, with fangs as long as spears, and slimy skin with scales.” Mom lowered her voice, a frighteninglook on her face. “The Kraken could eat a hundred mortals with a snap of its’ jaw.”

“That’s terrifying,” I’d gasped. “What did Zeus do?” I remember that she’d told me that story right before bed time.

“Never you mind.” She’d kissed the top of my head. “You just go to sleep and try to dream of pleasant things.” Trying to dream of pleasantthings after hearing a story like that was like asking for snow in the desert. I laid awake for half of the night, eyes wide, glued to the ceiling.

During lunch exhaustion creeps over me and I struggle to keep my eyes open. I lay my head on the cool, hard table and close my eyes. All Iwant to do is sleep away my fears. Sleep right through my birthday and forget about the voice. The voice that I know will pop up randomly at anygiven moment throughout the rest of the day.

As my slumber deepens, my mind slips away from me. I’m dreaming, lost in a world that I haven’t been to in five thousand years. I am outdoors.I am running and a gust of wind whips through my hair tossing up the scent of freesia. I suck in lungfuls of the smell of wildflowers, and pluck abouquet from the earth. Shifting, I peek over my shoulder. I know where I am. I’m in one of the most cherished places of my past, in the field at Ennaon the outskirts of Mount Olympus.

Marching forward, a garden of yellow daffodils draws me closer to edge of the field. I bend over, reaching for a daffodil to add to my heapingbouquet when I hear it—the voice.

“Persephone,” he hisses. “Come to me.” I’m perplexed and curious, but at the same time fear swallows me, digesting me like a mammal in ananaconda’s stomach. My spine stiffens. A strangled gasp sticks in my throat. My lungs clench and refuse to expand. Straightening up, my attentionaverts to a willow tree at the edge of the field.

A man with dark hair stands underneath the tree watching me.

Thick saliva coats the lining of my esophagus, sticky like warm molasses. I try to push it down with more saliva, but I can’t. On the outside Iappear to be calm, but on the inside I’m a knot of hysteria. Shrieking, trembling, and sobbing. The man’s face is blurred and I can’t make out hisfeatures. He’s dressed from head to toe in black. I lurch forward fighting the better half of myself that’s screaming for me to stay put. “Who aaareyou?” I stutter.

He doesn’t answer.

As I close the gap between us I can make out his broad, muscular build. The man tilts his head to the side and I swear I can see a set of eyesas blue as the Aegean Sea. “Are you the voice?” My own voice goes up an octave.

I’m so close to him now that I can make out his profound jaw-line, high cheek bones, and the slightest bit of stubble on his chin. But then, whenI’m only feet away he vanishes into thin air. He’s a particle of matter floating in the atmosphere. Invisible. I’m so confused. “Where did you go?” Ipivot in a circle, taking in the whole field, but the mysterious man is nowhere in sight. “Where did you go?”

A finger digs into my shoulder and I pivot again. I’m still alone. “Who’s touching me?” Then a hand clamps down on my shoulder and I’mshaking. My whole body is shaking. “Stop it!” I swat at the invisible hand frantically. “Stop touching me!” The shaking intensifies and I feel my wholebody convulsing.

“P!”

“Stop! Get your hands off me!”

“P! Damn it! Wake up!”

My eyes snap open. Marisol is inches away from my face wearing a concerned look. I sit up and stifle a glance around the packed cafeteria.“Mar?”

“Are you okay?” Marisol gasps. “You scared the crap out of me.”

“Yeah,” I breathe. “I must have dozed off and had some kind of nightmare.”

“I’ll say.”

She gives me another apprehensive look. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

I nod and relief floods through me. I’m elated to be in the safe haven of the cafeteria. The dream felt too real and my cheeks are hot, like I’dactually been basking in the warmth of the sun. “I’m fine.”

“Good.” Marisol slides a thick book with a hard cover casing toward me.

I stare at the cover. “Greek Myths for Beginners.”

“I found it in the library,” she tells me. “Remember how you offered to help me?”

“Yeah. My offer still stands.”

“Well, I’m taking it,” she says discouragingly. “I’m terrible in mythology.”

I smile. “Well, luckily for you, I’m not.”

“Of course you’re not. Your name is Persephone for God’s sake. You have to have Greek in you somewhere.”

“Some.” More than she’s aware of.

Flipping through the book, I laugh; amused at how mortals recount the existence of the Olympians if they only knew we could actually vouch forourselves, I’m sure this would make their literature seem silly. I turn a few more pages and freeze, stopping about half-way through the book. “Oh…”A breath is clogged in the back of my throat. “No.”

Marisol leans over my shoulder, focusing on the image on the page. “What’s the matter?”

I stare at a picture of the fruit I’d received as a birthday gift this morning. The thick reddish skin fills my gaze and I make a shocking discovery.“H is Hades.”

Marisol draws her eyebrows together. “Huh?” She points to the picture, reading the paragraph beneath it. “The book says that’s apomegranate. Supposedly, it’s the fruit of the dead.”

A queasy feeling ripples through my stomach. “H is Hades,” I repeat robotically. Rising from the table I can feel my knees trembling. I lock themin place as Marisol follows me with her brown child-like eyes. “What’s going on P?”

I’m numb and a feeling of betrayal surges through me. I picture mom’s panicked look when I placed the pomegranate against my lips. “Sheknows,” I pant as my breaths come out short and raspy. Backing away from the table, I’m hyperventilating. Shock is a brick sitting in the pit of mystomach. I want to spit it out. I want to throw it up. “I don’t feel so hot. I have to go home,” I mumble.

“P, wait! What’s wrong?”

“Just text me later if you still need help,” I tell her. Then I bolt from the cafeteria, sprinting to the exit.

Persephone

There’s a sledgehammer in my head pounding questions through my cranium.

Mom…. She has moved me from place to place, and she’s never explained why. She was always giving me vague answers or telling me itwas because of the mortals, but it’s not. We’ve been moving because of him—because of Hades.

As I storm toward the exit I’m a jumbled mixture of rage and uncertainty. What does Hades want from me? Why has he been chasing me for allthis time?

I glance down at the floor, so involved in my own thoughts I trip, bumping into someone. “I’m sorry,” I groan, eyes still on the floor.

Adonis grips my shoulders. “Easy there.” I lift my head and he gives me a warm smile. “Where are you going in such a hurry?”

Sometimes I think it’s odd that he pops up at the most unopportune moments and I always manage to do something clumsy in his presence.Last nine weeks he was in my art class and I accidentally dumped an entire can of red paint on him. I’m normally not like that, but around him all ofmy coordination dwindles away. Maybe it’s because he’s too pretty and way too nice.

Brent McCall was the resident hottie at Klamath Falls High, with rippling muscles, a perfect Crest tooth-paste smile, and a crown of gold a tophis head. Well, he was the resident hottie until Adonis arrived and stole the title. The difference between Adonis and Brent is that Brent is an ass;calling students names, shoving the smart kids in lockers, and walking around like he owns the place. And with Adonis it’s almost like he’s naïve,almost like he doesn’t know how attractive he really is.

I inhale deep and exhale slowly. Warmth sears through me from Adonis’s touch and extinguishes the burning rage. “I don’t feel good. I need togo home.” He smirks at me flirtatiously and I look away. My heart hammers nails into my ribcage and part of me wants to stare at his beautiful smilefor the rest of my immortal life, but I’m absorbed by my worries and fear to handle my emotions involving him right now. “Adonis,” I whisper, peelinghis hands off my shoulders. “I have to go.”

I brush past him, sprinting out the back exit door and I hear him yell, “Are you going to be okay?”

What I want to tell him is no, Adonis, I don’t know if I’ll ever be okay ever again. Right now, my life is a global catastrophe, an asteroiddisintegrating the planet, a tsunami wiping out an entire country. For the last five thousand years, I’ve been moved all over the world. For the last fivethousand years, I’ve been lied to repeatedly. I’ve been laughed at, tortured by a voice that I was led to believe was an illusion. I’ve had to pretend tobe a million different people when all I’ve really wanted to be is myself.

But I don’t tell him any of that. I can’t tell him any of that. I just keep running and running and don’t look back.

I run until I’m standing in front of my house. Shiny black paint fills up my gaze and I scowl at the Ferrari in my driveway. “Freakin great.” My dadis here and I’m one hundred percent sure he’s not here to wish me a happy birthday.

In my eyes, Zeus had earned my respect, but that’s pretty much it. I don’t call him dad and we don’t have any type of father-daughterrelationship. Actually, I don’t have any fond memories of him at all. He was just there, hanging around like an antique tapestry hanging on the wall ina person’s home.

Mom had told me once that he never came around because of Hera. Everyone on Olympus knew that her jealous nature could be a vengefulbitch, but I’d always thought that was a lousy excuse, a lousy excuse because Zeus was and always will be the type of God who likes to have hiscake and eat it too. As long as I’ve known him, he’s always wanted the best of both worlds. Those worlds being the mortal world and the immortal.

Walking around to the back door, I try to keep all of my emotions in check. I try to tell myself to stay calm, but it’s impossible. Disloyalty, Fury,and ambiguity melt together inside of me and I can hear the crackle from a lit fuse. I can feel the sparks as they scorch my organs. I’m a bomb. Inminutes I’m going to explode.

I slip into the kitchen through the sliding glass door. Locking my knees in place, I try to be as quiet as possible and I strain to listen for thesound of voices. I hear nothing.

The square country kitchen with apple wallpaper is submerged in silence. Then I raise my head, slitting my eyes when I hear movement.Floorboards above me spit out creaks and groans and the sound of footsteps thud down the steps. Panic is a fresh stream trickling through myveins, branching off at my heart. I can feel it beating in my throat.

No…I can’t confront mom yet.

There’s huge part of me that wants to. Confronting her and demanding answers was all I could think about on the run home, but I have a feelingthat when mom and Zeus get in here they are going to be talking about what I want and need to know anyway. And what if I confront mom after Zeusleaves? Will she laugh at me again and try to convince me I’m dreaming all of this up? Will she tell me that I’m crazy and this voice is just a figment

of my imagination?

Muffled voices carry down the hall. Footsteps pound like the beat of a drum at the executioners block. I can’t let them see me. I spin aroundfrantic. Where can I go? Where can I hide? Turning my head my eyes center on the pantry door. No… Mom checks the pantry every time she walksinto the kitchen. One of the cupboards? No. There’s no way I’ll be able to pretzel my long lengthy limbs enough to fit. Laughter rings out like churchbells on a Sunday.

Shit! Shit! Shit!

Out of the corner of my eye, I glimpse the small round kitchen table with the floral table cloth hanging off the edges. It nearly touches the floor.That’s my only option. So when mom and Zeus are only feet away, I scamper toward the table and dive underneath it.

Persephone

Zeus flops down in the wooden chair. The legs belch out creaks and snaps as it wobbles unsteadily, and for a second I think it might breakbeneath his heavy body.

Pulling my knees to my chest I suck in a lungful of air as moms’ footsteps pound behind me. Zeus stretches his legs and accidentally kicks myknee. Pain shoots up my thigh and I let out a squeak, and then clamp my hands tightly over my mouth to keep myself from crying out again.

Zeus stiffens, alert of my presence. “What was that?” he questions suspiciously. He hunches over, gripping the edge of the table cloth and liftsup the plastic covering the slightest bit. Instinctively, I shield my face with my arms as a knot of fear ties itself to the lining of my stomach.

The pantry door swings open and I can hear mom shuffling around in there. “Relax. It’s probably nothing,” she assures him. “This is an oldhouse. It makes noises.” Zeus lowers the tablecloth, sitting upright and mom walks over to the table. A loud clash rumbles through the quiet roomlike thunder and shakes the table. “He sent her these.”

I tuck myself into a tighter ball as mom sits down behind me, her feet eerily close to my back. He sent her these? That has to be the bowl ofpomegranates I received earlier.

“Demeter,” Zeus says. “I think you’re reading into this too much. They are only pomegranates.”

“I love how you’re acting so casual about this,” mom scoffs sarcastically. “Only pomegranates!” Her voice hikes. “Have you been away fromOlympus too long, Zeus? Have you forgotten that pomegranates are the fruit of the dead? You know what will happen if she eats one.”

“Did she?”

“Did she what?”

“Eat one.”

“No,” mom huffs, shifting in her chair. “But she would have if I wouldn’t have walked into the kitchen and stopped her. And I think we both knowwhat would have happened if I hadn’t stopped her. She’d be half-way across the Styx by now.”

There’s an awkward moment of silence. I hug my knees tighter as my legs start trembling. Tears swell in my eyes and I swallow hard, exhaling,rolling my head back, doing everything I can to keep my tears from spilling. Across the Styx? If I cross the Styx I know I can kiss the sunshinegoodbye, I can forget the smell of wildflowers, I can forget the earth in its beauty and the living things that inhabit it. Goddess or not, I do know this; ifyou become one with the realm of the dead, you might as well consider yourself dead because there is a high probability that you’ll never comeback.

Zeus lets out a frustrated sigh. “Demeter, he’s going to keep coming for her. You know you can’t stop him.”

“I can and I will, Zeus. I will not let him take my only daughter.” There’s a harsh tone of determination in mom’s voice.

“You’ve been running from him for five thousand years. Maybe it’s time that you two struck up some sort of bargain.”

“Have you lost your mind?” mom shrieks. “And besides, we wouldn’t be in this mess if it wasn’t for you!”

Zeus slams his fist into the center of the table and I examine a crack as it travels from one end to the other. “I made a mistake!” he booms in agrizzly voice. “A mistake that I have regretted for the last five thousand! A mistake that you have never let me forget!”

“You’re the God of Gods. You shouldn’t make mistakes.” Mom’s tone is cold and brutal.

“Demeter, did I not go back on my deal with him? Have I not done everything in my power to keep you two safe? Have I not provided you withhomes, hideouts, and financial stability? Have I not shielded her from him? I put up that time shield centuries ago, so he only has until midnight onher birthday to take her! And you know me, I’ve never been a God who goes back on his word. And I did that without a second thought, for you andher!”

“Obviously you haven’t kept her safe enough or really shielded her from him at all. He comes to her, you know? He’s been coming to her sinceright after we left Olympus.”

“Physically?”

“Not physically,” mom retorts. “You know Hades. He has other ways of making his presence known. Every seventeen years, the anniversary ofthe day you made the deal with him—her birthday.”

Zeus clears his throat. “So he speaks to her.”

I drown in my own thoughts for a second. Hades has never come to me physically before, but he did today. He came to me in my dreams andthat makes me curious and frightened at the same time. Curious because I don’t have any answers to the questions, popping into my head everyfive minutes. Yes, I know who the voice is and now I know why we’ve been running, but it doesn’t make sense that Hades would chase me for five-thousand years because of a broken agreement. And I’m frightened because instead of just his voice, he’s physically coming to me and that canonly mean one thing; there’s something different about this birthday. That something swirls around in my gut like nausea after eating a bad burrito.Something telling me, that this year, on this birthday, Hades might actually succeed.

“More like taunts her,” mom says. “He infiltrates her mind, filling her subconscious with his dark voice and it terrifies her. It started again atmidnight. I rushed in her room to comfort her because she woke up screaming.”

“Why haven’t you told me about this?” Zeus inquires in a serious tone.

“Zeus, what are you going to do? Number one, Hades has never listened to you. You know he’s selfish and you know he will pursue what hewants at any cost. Two, you’ve chosen to be eternally absent from Persephone’s life.”

“You know as well as I do that’s not the case,” he growls.

Mom exhales, calming down. “Whatever. Zeus, we’re both on the same page now. We have to try and figure out a way to stop him.”

I’m torn between my feelings of hurt, terror, and anger. I’m hurt because of the way mom has kept everything hidden from me for all this time.Deep down inside, I know she was only doing it to protect me, but there’s a part of me that feels like I’ve had a knife in my back for the last five-thousand years. And now I feel the knife being wedged in deeper and deeper. The dull metal is inches away from my spinal cord, any closer and thecool blade of destruction will paralyze me.

Then anger trumps the hurt when I think of Zeus and how he struck up this deal with Hades. It didn’t matter that he went back on the deal. Heshould have never bargained with my life to begin with. Finally terror, terror is a school of hungry piranha’s, munching on my fleshy muscles, rippingthe meat from my bones. It won’t be long before it eats me alive. Am I destined to live out my eternal existence in a world full of darkness anddeath?

I bury my face in my lap. I’m an emotional mess, an overflowing landfill with pieces of trash scattered everywhere and a rotting stenchpermeating the air. Nobody will clean me up. All they’ll do is bury me. Bury me with their lies, secrets, and empty promises. I lift my head and centeron Zeus’s shin. The bulky muscle in his calf bulges as he shakes his leg. Fury twists in the core of my chest and my lungs expand as I huff violently.

I’m tired of being lied to. I’m tired of being kept in the dark. And it’s about time I let them know.

Persephone

Rocking onto my tailbone, I fling my leg out as hard as I can and blast Zeus with the heel of my foot in the shin. Despite putting all of my effortinto kick, it doesn’t even phase him. He doesn’t even flinch. I hear the puzzled tone in Zeus’s voice. “What the?” Then he lifts the tablecloth and looksme dead in the eye. His eyes are pools of blue with puddles of green around the irises. I scowl at him, angrily.

Mom shifts behind me. “Zeus, what is it?” The tablecloth rustles and a creak erupts from mom’s chair as she bends over. “Persephone!” sheyells. “What on earth?”

I turn my head toward her, narrow my eyes, and try to breathe. Then I scramble out from underneath the table as they both sit up. I shootdaggers between them with my eyes. I don’t know what to say to whom first. Zeus stands and bursts out in a jovial, fake laugh. “Happy Birthday,Princess!”

“Zip it Zeus!” I shout.

Mom flies out of her chair and her abrupt departure sends the wooden seat crashing to the floor. “Don’t you talk to your father that way! Howlong were you under there?”

“For the whole damn conversation!”

“Don’t you take that done with me, Persephone!” Mom places her fists on her hips. “You’re supposed to be in school!”

“Well, thank the God’s I came home! If I hadn’t maybe then I would have never found out that I have liars for parents!”

“Don’t you dare,” mom gasps. Behind her I hear Zeus breathing heavily as mom and I continue to bicker with one another. She wags her fingerin my face and I fold my arms across my chest. Suddenly a hiss and a sizzle interrupts our heated discussion. I glimpse over my shoulder andZeus’s face is crimson, his jaw clenched and sparks fly out of his fingertips. He lifts his hands slowly as ball of thin white lines flash and swirl like acyclone. He palms the lightning bolt. “ENOUGH!” I throw my arms up over my head, prepared to duck and cover.

Just as he raises his arm preparing chuck the bolt into the wall, mom rushes to his side and gets a firm grip on his arm. “Zeus! No!” She yankshard on his raised arm and he slowly lowers it. “Calm down, Zeus,” she soothes him. Zeus lowers his head and meets my mother’s gaze. The boltvanishes and he lets out a long, winded sigh.

“I’m done with this!” I run from the kitchen, ignoring mom and Zeus.

“Persephone! You come back here now!”

I don’t listen.

This is one time where I’m not going to be her naïve obedient daughter. This is one time where I’m not going to do what I’m told.

In my room, I lock the door, and then pace back and forth in front of my bed. The contents of my room blur in my vision. Sea green walls, cherryfurniture, the white throw rug, pretty soon I feel like I’m partially blind because all the color swirl together. I can’t believe this. I can’t believe my mom.Most of all, I can’t believe that I hadn’t caught on to what was going on sooner.

The doorknob to my room turns abruptly. I stop mid-pace and glare at the brass knob as mom turns it with more force. Then she slams her firstinto the door. “Persephone! Open this door now!”

I don’t even want to hear her voice right now. I need to think. And besides, I know exactly what she’s going to say. She’s going to tell me shedid this to protect me. I don’t mom knows what the definition of “protect” is.

Over the centuries she’s watched me wake up screaming—terrified. She’s watched me suffer through sleepless nights. She’s watched me livein fear of every seventeenth birthday, and the whole time she knew why the voice was coming to me. What kind of parent let’s their child suffer likethat? What kind of parent watches their child in pain and keeps the secret of why their child is in pain in the first place?

The doorknob jingles again. “I’m serious Persephone! Open this door!” Mom turns the doorknob so hard I think it might snap off.

“No! Leave me alone!”

“Pack your things!” she shouts through the door. “We’re moving!”

I grind my teeth and a lowly breath leaves my slotted lips. “I am not moving again!”

Part of me thinks this a ruse; mom is just saying this to get me to open the door.

“Oh yes you are!” She tries twisting the knob again. “I’ve already purchased the plane tickets.” She lowers her voice. “This time we’re moving toVermont. Remember how much you liked it the last time we lived there?”

“I am not moving!” I march over to the door, unlock it, and yank it open. “I refuse!”

Mom is propped up against the frame and she smiles. “Thank you for opening the door.” She brushes past me and sits down on my bed. Heatrises filling my cheeks with warmth and I glare at her furiously. I was right; it was all a ruse to get me to open the door.

Mom pats the spot on the bed next to her. “Sit down. We need to talk.” I ignore her and fold my arms across my chest. She shakes her head.“Quit being stubborn, Persephone.”

“You lied to me!” I snarl.

“Just because I didn’t tell you every single detail involving our moves does not mean I lied to you. I did this to protect you.”

“Really? Letting me suffer through centuries of sleepless nights is protecting me? It’s funny how parenting works.”

“You want to know the truth, don’t you? I’m about to tell you,” she says, sternly. “Now sit.”

I huff and sit down next to her. The soft mattress dips down and coils squeak. I don’t face her. I drop my head and the planks of the hardwoodfloors fill my gaze. “Tell me, then.”

Either way, I’m going to get something out of this conversation—some answers.

I lift my head, stealing a glimpse at mom out of the corner of my eyes. Mom adjusts herself scooting farther back on my bed. “Oh goodness,where do I begin?”

“Gee, I don’t know,” I say sarcastically. “How about the beginning?”

Mom gives me a hard look. “Lose the attitude.”

A gust of wind leaves my lungs as the heat evaporates from my cheeks and I start to calm down. “Fine.”

“Before you were born, Hades came to your father and asked him for a queen. He’d spent centuries in the underworld alone and his lonelinesswas finally getting to him. He longed for companionship. He longed to have someone to share a life with. So, even though your father shouldn’t haveagreed to this deal, he did, agreeing to give you to Hades—to be his queen. And just days before your seventeenth birthday, Hades came for you.But Hades did not expect your father to go back on the deal. You see, after watching you grow up, Zeus had become attached to you and his lovefor you was greater than his word to Hades.”

Guilt seizes my insides and grips onto my heart. I feel terrible. “Zeus went back on his word for me?”

Mom nods. “He did.”

One thing I know about my dad is that he’s always been a God of his word. If he made a deal with someone he kept it. “I know he hates doingthat.”

“He does.” Mom places her hand on my shoulder. “But that didn’t matter. It matter what your father said. Hades had already seen you. He’dbeen watching you from afar and was taken with you.” Mom lowers her voice and there’s a hint of sadness in her tone. “Your father tried to bargainwith him. He tried to offer him another woman in place of you, but it was no use. Hades could not be bargained with. In his eyes, you were alreadyhis. Your father is a very powerful God, but, he has never been able to control Hades. Hades is the type of God who will stop at nothing to get whathe wants. He doesn’t take no for an answer. In the end, their debate over you ended in an explosive argument. Hades made it perfectly clear, that ifyour father didn’t hand you over, he would simply just take you. That night, your father came to me, informing me of what happened. Then he told meto take you and flee. So that’s exactly what I did.”

Even after listening to her explanation I still feel like a part of the story is missing. Most of all, I feel like Atlas. I’m holding the weight of the worldon my shoulders. I hope I’m strong enough to keep the world up. I hope I don’t let it fall. Mom and Zeus have sacrificed so much to keep me safe. Allof my anger dwindles away and now I’m not sure what to do. “What can we do to prevent him from taking me?”

Mom stares ahead, a blank expression on her face. “It’s harder for him to track us if we keep moving. He has so many tasks in the underworldthat sometimes it takes him a while to find us. But eventually he does. He always finds us.”

“Why can’t we stand our ground? Are we going to have to do this for the rest of our immortal lives?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“Mom,” I say softly. “I’ll just tell him I don’t want to go.”

Mom sighs. “It doesn’t matter if you want to go. He’ll find a way to take you. He’s always got something up his sleeve.”

“Like what he tried with the pomegranates?” Mom purses her lips and nods. “Have there been other times?”

Mom glances at me solemnly. “So many times over the years, that I’ve lost count.” She grips my hand and squeezes. “Do you remember ourtrip to Catalina Island?”

I smile, recalling one of my most favorite birthdays of all time. Even though it was two birthdays ago, I can still remember the way the sand onthe beach squished, tickling the skin between my toes. I can still remember the smell of clean air mixed with salt. The way the cool breeze felt as itwhipped through my hair. Sunshine on my skin. “That was a great day.”

“Maybe for you,” mom says. “Not for me.” Mom shifts in her spot and I shift in mine facing her. “Do you remember how badly you wanted to rideon the ferry? And how I wouldn’t let you because I thought it was odd that there were no other passengers?”

“I was so mad at you for that.”

“You see my love, I knew Hades sent Charon, his ferryman, and disguised him as the captain on that ferry. I also knew that if I let you on it, theminute you placed a foot on that boat, it would sink into the sea and you’d be well on your way to crossing the river Styx. Hades is very cunning andvery smart, but he doesn’t have the instincts a mother has when it comes to her child. Any time he’s tried anything, I’ve always had this gut feelingthat something wasn’t right. I’ve been there to stop him. I will always prevent him from taking you.”

After listening to everything, I realize this is a lot to digest. But there is one thing I know for sure; I can’t fear the voice anymore. The deep,throaty whisper won’t pull me from my slumber. Now that I knew who was behind it, I make a mental note to be a step ahead of Hades as well. Now Iknow what he wants—me. I put on a brave face and look at mom. “I’m sorry for snapping, mom.” I know mom and Zeus had good intentions in doingwhat they did. But they don’t need to protect me anymore because I will not give Hades the satisfaction of pulling me under. To walk amongst deathand darkness. I will be fierce and brave. I refuse to let him take me—I will not let him take me.

Yawning, a sudden wave of exhaustion washes over me. My cat-nap during lunch wasn’t enough. I throw my arms up and stretch. “I think I needa nap,” I tell her. She stands as I lie back in my bed and cover myself with my down comforter.

Mom walks to my door and glances over her shoulder. “I’ll wake you up in an hour.”

“Why?”

“Today is still your birthday. I’ve invited a few people over for a party.” I think about protesting, but after my insane day, I’m emotionally andphysically drained.

After mom closes the door, I roll over and stare at my pastel green walls. My eyelids droop down, heavy. I am relaxed and calm, nestledcomfortably between my warm blanket and fluffy pillows. An overwhelming sense of security fills me up and I drift away into dreamland. A placewhere anything and everything is possible.

Hades

Hades was convinced that Demeter wasn’t as smart as she made herself out to be. He stood across the street from her house, watching inamusement as she backed her station-wagon out of her driveway.

He paused for a moment, staring at the tailpipe of the old tin box, keeping his eyes on the smoke unfurling as the car got father and fartheraway from the house.

After the car was at least a hundred feet away, and turned a corner, Hades took that as an opportunity to visit Persephone. But before he didthat…

He had other plans.

He traveled from room to room, admiring the country-home-like décor, but he had also turned every clock in the house back five minutes. Hehad only had until midnight to take his beloved and minutes were precious to someone with a limited time frame. And he could thank Zeus for thatlimited time frame. Just before Demeter and Persephone left Greece Zeus had figured out a way to block his efforts. He figured out a way to put upa shield of some sort that gave Hades only until the stroke of midnight on Persephone’s birthday to take her.

At first Hades was enraged by this. He figured without that time shield he would have had Persephone centuries ago, but now it was somethinghe was used to. And he kept telling himself that eventually, time shield or not, he would finally have her. He’d finally have his queen.

Standing in the kitchen, Hades glared at the wooden grandfather clock tucked in the far left corner of the room. Who knows? Hades thought.Maybe the extra five minutes would come in handy, no—he knew the extra minutes would come in handy.

After double-checking every clock in the house, Hades strolled into Persephone’s bedroom. Gleaming metal caught his eye from a watch onher nightstand. Hades swiped the watch; he palmed it and set the time back on it as well.

Afterwards, he crouched down next to Persephone’s bed, listening to her soft breathing and watching her, deep in her rem-cycle. He brushedhis fingers against her soft skin and sighed. He’d never thought another person could such a powerful hold over him. Him—of all things living anddead.

What puzzled him the most was that she had never done anything to make him feel the way he did. He remembered a spark flickering inside ofhim the first time he ever saw her, but that was the extent of it. After that moment he told himself he had to have her and hadn’t given up on hersince.

Rising to his feet, Hades closed his eyes. He needed to see her, not like this, not deep in her slumber. He wanted to see her in her elementfrolicking in a field filled with wild-flowers. A field filled with sunlight and warmth and the smell of the outdoors.

So while Persephone slept, he scooped her up and whisked her away. Not physically, but mentally to a place that he knew he could control—her dreams.

Persephone

I don’t know exactly how much time has passed, but I feel like there’s a pendulum inside of me, swinging, back and forth, back and forth. At anymoment I’m going to chime. Maybe even cuckoo. Bright sunlight grazes my cheeks and warms me up like a kettle on a stove. My eyelids flutter andI shield my face with my arm as light shines into my eyes. The smell of grass and wildflowers tickles my nostrils and I feel the urge to inhale deeply. Ilove the way the enticing scent swirls around inside of me as I suck it into my lungs.

Then I sit up as long grass sways next to me and gently caresses my arms. I’m not in my bed. I’m not in my room. I am back in my dream fromlunch, in the field at Enna. And I know I’ll see him again. I know I’ll see Hades.

Rising to my feet, I instinctively rush to a patch of wildflowers with the need to pick a bouquet. As I bend over, I feel him behind me, hovering. Ifeel him behind me, watching. I hop and pivot around, slamming my bare feet into the soft earth. “Reveal yourself!”

He doesn’t.

With my guard up I creep toward the edge of the field, eyes centered on the weeping willow, the tree he stood beneath the first time I saw him.“I know you’re here, Hades! There’s no point in playing these silly games! Show yourself!”

A gust of wind sweeps through my hair, blowing it into my face and tossing the long grass in various directions, but after the wind dissipatesthe entire field goes still. An eerie silence boxes me in and all the hairs on my arms rise up. Then I hear him hiss, “Come to me.”

I drop the bouquet in my hands and shout, “Stop this right now! I don’t like games!” Surveying the field, I center on the edge of the field as a puffof black smoke unfurls. The smoke expands and twists and contorts like choppy waves on a windy day. It’s him, I know it. He’s trying to toy with me.He’s a magician on stage performing his nightly show for a packed auditorium. Another rabbit out of the hat? Is that what you want? A smatteringof applause erupts from his audience and he turns his back to them, reaching into a bottomless bag of tricks.

I start toward the black cloud. “I know what you’re doing!” I yell. He’s messing with my head, trying to fake me out and the black cloud of smokeis sucked into the air. It’s gone. Lost in an invisible vortex. I spin around. “Where are you?”

His hand grazes my shoulder, a cold feeling circulates through my veins, and then his warm breath gently caresses my earlobe. “I ameverywhere,” he whispers. His voice is like the missing link, bottomless, empty, and full of mystery.

I spin around to face him, but there is no one behind me. He’s evaporated like a puddle after spending hours beneath the blazing sun. Ormaybe he was never behind me in the first place. “If you’re trying to get me to like you I can promise you that toying with me isn’t going to work.”

Suddenly, his hot breath trails down my neck, bringing on goose bumps. “Are you sure?” He sounds amused.

I am positive. I have never been good with the element of surprise. “You will never have me,” I tell him. “It must be exhausting to spend fivethousand years chasing a person you will never have.”

He laughs, musically. He’s a siren full of death and destruction, pulling me closer and closer. I’m hypnotized by his hypnotic hymn. I’m in atrance.

After his laughter dies down I snap out of my trance, narrow my eyes and stalk to the opposite end of the field. Then he materializes out ofnowhere, only a few feet in front of me.

At first, my gaze is lowered and all I notice are the black combat boots he’s wearing. I lift my head slowly. My eyes are blanketed by black andmuscle. He’s a statue. Solid. Bold. I stare at his face; his pristine blue eyes penetrate my gaze. There’s vagueness in his eyes, yet at the same timecoldness.

He may appear to be god-like and magnificent, but I can see right through him. Pain ripples through his features as he examines my face. Thenhe closes his eyes, exhales, and clenches his jaw. When he opens his eyes there’s a spark of anger in them. “I’ve been waiting for you for five-thousand years. You will come to me.” There’s finality and harshness is his deep, velvety voice. “Willing or not.”

“Ha!” I burst out. “That’s what you think.”

He steps closer, hovering above me. I pretend to be brave and stand firm, my knees lock in place, a fierce look in my eye, but inside every vitalorgan in my body is vibrating and then my heart stops beating. My heart is a convenient store. It’s closing time. Better lock up for the night.

He cups the right side of my face and gently brushes his thumb over my cheek bone. I expect his touch to be filled with warmth, but it’s not, it’scold, so cold that I feel the capillaries in my face freezing over. He tilts his head to the side and leans closer, inches away from my face. His blueeyes sear into mine as he exhales. I taste his cool breath, a mixture of mint and honey. “No,” he says hushed. Part of me wants to move. The otherpart of me is screaming inside to stay here and let him touch me in places I’ve never been touched. Then I focus on his full, pink lips and I want himto kiss me in places I’ve never been kissed. And there is also a miniscule part of me that wants to kick him in the shin and make a mad dash for the

opposite side of the field. But for some reason I can’t. He’s a warlock. His intense gaze has me under a spell. I close my eyes as my heart races.My organ pounds so loud I feel it throbbing in my ears. Hades shifts and his lips are inches away from my ear. “It’s not what I think. It’s what I know.”His voice is so low I can barely hear him. I close my eyes, convincing myself that I could listen to his voice for the rest of my life.

The wind picks up and a breeze trickles down my flimsy shirt and I feel the sun as the heat sizzles on my skin. I open my eyes, hoping toglimpse into his sea of blue eyes. But he’s gone.

I close my eyes again and behind my eyelids I can see a light flickering on and off, on and off. For a while I forgot I was dreaming again and Iknow that mom said she was going to wake me up in an hour. Opening my eyes, the white ceiling blurs as I blink rapidly. Mom waltzes into myroom. “Get up,” she says gleefully. “Time to get ready.”

I sit up sluggishly. “Oh joy. I’m just so excited about my party.” I hope she can sense the sarcasm in my voice.

She doesn’t.

“Wonderful!” She clasps her hands together. I toss the covers off me and stand as mom thumbs through the outfits in my closet. “You shouldhurry up and get ready,” she tells me, strutting to the door. “People are already arriving.”

I groan. “What people?” I shouldn’t have asked. I know when mom throws a party that usually means all of Mount Olympus will be here.

Through the years, most of the God’s that dwelled on Mount Olympus migrated to different parts of the world. When you have forever to live outyour life, there are so many places to see and people to meet. If you liked mingling with mortals, that is.

Unlike my father, a lot of the God’s looked down upon the mortals. I agree that we’re in a completely different class than them but, I’ve neverlooked down on them. Speaking of my father. “Zeus isn’t coming, is he?”

“Of course not,” mom muses. “Hera is here with the boys.”

I fall back on my bed and smother my face with a pillow. I scream loudly several times and remove the pillow to see mom with her hands on herhips, a stern look on her face. “Persephone, was that necessary?”

“Was it necessary for you to invite Ares and Hephaestus?”

“What’s wrong with you? You know I can’t invite Hera and not invite her boys.”

I prop myself up on my elbows. “Are you forgetting what happened at my last party because of them?”

At my last seventeenth birthday, mom threw me a Hawaiian themed party and Ares ruined it. He always wanted to fight or pick fights. Ares ismoodier than a teenage girl during that time of the month and it never takes much to set him off. I don’t remember what led him and Hephaestus tofight, but I do remember Ares tackling his brother, knocking one of the tiki torches over, and setting the whole table of food on fire.

Mom is standing in the doorway. “Hera promised me they would behave this year.”

“Fine,” I grumble, getting to my feet.

Mom smiles. “Come down when you’re ready.”

I smile back, walking over to my closet as she makes her exit.

I select a yellow flowered sundress. Then I make a mental note, telling myself to push all of my thoughts involving Hades to the side. Right now,I’m going to put on a happy face and pretend like I’m enjoying this party.

Descending down the stairs, the lower portion of our house is a flooded river of bodies. The chatter is so loud is makes the walls vibrate. Mominvited so many people that the guests can barely move. I watch Iris as the ivory skin around her violet eyes crinkles. She’s wedged in betweenApollo and Poseidon, trying to squeeze through them to get to the food table on the opposite side of the room.

Strips of purple crepe paper hang down from the wooden beams on the ceiling and tiny twinkling lights flash, bordering the walls. A massivebanner is plastered above the fireplace that reads; Happy Birthday, Persephone.” On the last step, I search the faces in the crowd for mom. Then allof sudden, I stumble back, catching myself by gripping the solid oak rails as Dionysius’s bulging belly rams into my hip. “Whoa!” I straighten myselfout, catching my balance.

He turns to face me, a wide smile on his lips and a twinkle in his brown eyes. “Oh, Persephoonnee!” he slurs. Dionysius wobbles closer andbreathes heavily. His breath smells musty and sweet, like fermented grapes. He’s drunk. He raises his right hand, clutching a half-empty greenbottle of wine. “Care for a drink, birrrthday girrrl,” he mumbles.

“No thanks,” I say politely. I’ve never been much of a drinker.

He brings the bottle to his lips. “Great. More for me.”

As I weave through the crowd I glimpse at him over my shoulder as he’s stumbles, falling face first into the floor. He’s out cold. A wave of reliefflushes through me. Dionysius is overly obnoxious when he’s drunk and I’m pretty sure everyone at this party will be thrilled to learn he’s cashed inearly.

Several people wish me a “Happy Birthday” as I continue pushing through the crowd. I assume mom will be in the kitchen, so I head in thatdirection, but I stop when I feel someone tug on my arm. I try to turn, but I’m smooshed in between Artemis and Hestia. They are both engaged indeep discussions and despite me pushing on them they barely move. I feel like a hamburger patty, smashed between two buns. Ketchup, cheeseand pickles, anyone?

I’m jolted forward, yanked out of my Persephone sandwich and a pair of steel grey eyes rest on me. “Athena!” I squeal and throw myself intoher open arms.

“Happy birthday!” she shouts over the noise. Her golden hair is slicked back into a ponytail and she beams as she stands up straight.

“Where have you been?” I lean in close to her, shouting, “It’s been ages!”

“You know, lending my wisdom to those who need it!”

I stifle a glance around the room. “Does mom know you’re here?”

“Yeah! I saw her when I first arrived. I think she’s with Hera in the kitchen. I thought it would be best if I kept my distance!”

Eros shoves his way through the crowd. His pouch of arrows, resting against his back, nudges me and sends me forward. Athena catches meby the shoulders and steadies me as someone turns on the stereo. Music pumps through the room and the mingling turns into a mosh-pit as someof the guests begin dancing. I put my lips close to Athena’s ear. “Is she in one of her moods?”

Athena leans close to my ear. “Who, Hera?”

I back away and nod.

Athena looks at me earnestly. “When isn’t she?”

“True,” I agree. I’ve known Hera my whole life and she was always mad or complaining about something.

Athena turns her attention to the guests. “I’m gonna go flirt with Apollo,” she tells me. “I’ll catch ya later.”

“Later.”

As make my way to the kitchen, I hear Athena shout, “Hey Apollo! Looking good!”

Mom and Hera stand in front of the kitchen door. Mom says something to Hera and Hera laughs. I approach them and Hera narrows her eyesand tucks a piece of her fiery hair behind her ear. “Would you look at Aphrodite?” she harrumphs. “That Goddess has no shame!”

Glancing over my shoulder, I catch a glimpse of Aphrodite, who is wearing next to nothing. A denim skirt that cuts off right below her buttcheeks and a top that shows her midriff. She’s enclosed by a circle of admirers and I hear her infectious, flirtatious laugh. She playfully slaps theshoulder of one of the men. I’m assuming he just said something funny.

Mom laughs at Hera’s comment. “Hera, one day I swear your jealousy will eat you alive.”

“I am not jealous,” Hera snaps. Of course she’d never admit it. “I have morals.”

I roll my eyes, looking away, and mutter, “Right.”

“I have a surprise for you,” mom pipes up.

“A surprise? What kind of surprise?”

Mom beams. “I invited Charis and Chloe.”

“Really?” I stare into the crowd of party guests. “Where are they?”

“Where else would they be? They’re outside.”

Charis and Chloe are twins, a pair of identical wood nymphs. Back in ancient Greece they were my best friends. They were immortal like me,and centuries ago they left Greece too.

“Ugh. Wood nymph’s,” Hera scoffs.

For a second, I think about giving Hera a piece of my mind. Isn’t there anybody that she likes? Isn’t there anybody that she doesn’t look down

upon? She thinks that because she’s married to Zeus, she can treat people how she wants to, with disrespect. Maybe that was okay five thousandyears ago, but this is the 21st century. Times have changed. Instead, I remain tight-lipped, dashing through the sliding back door.

Persephone

“Charis! Chloe!” I shout, hopping down the cement steps of the back porch. “I know you guys are out here!” Cautiously, I march toward the edgeof the forest that encircles our house, eyes darting across a sea of evergreen and brown. I stop, squinting, trying to get a clearer view of the carvedout muddy path, fenced in by the trees the size of skyscrapers.

Two heads covered in a mass of thick black curls emerge from the trees, excitement sparkling in their chocolate brown eyes as they sprinttoward me. “Persephone!” They squeal in unison.

I open my arms and the twins’ crash into me, hard, so hard that I stumble backwards and almost tumble to the ground. “Whoa! Easy!”Regaining my balance I begin to back away and Chloe pulls away first, followed by Charis.

Charis steps to her left, her olive skin shimmering like droplets of molten gold in the sunlight. A stranger would never be able to tell which twinwas which. Through the years Charis and Chloe had always thought it was comical to play the switcheroo game with people they didn’t know. Butthey’ve never been able to fool me.

Chloe has a nervous tick. Whenever she feels uneasy or worried, she rolls her thumbs and Charis has a small speckle of a beauty-mark justbelow her right eye. Chloe has one too, but Charis’s is just a little bit bigger.

“The last time we saw you was—,” Charis reminisces.

“Two hundred years ago,” I say finishing her sentence.

“It’s so good to see you,” Chloe pipes up. “We’ve missed you.”

“I missed you guys too.”

The last time I saw the twins we were living in London. Well, I was living in London. They lived in some cottage, set deep in the EnglishCountryside. Wood Nymphs could never live in the city. They belonged outdoors, amongst rolling green hills, trees, and wildflowers galore. I’d alsolonged for that life. I’d longed to suck in fresh, clean air in place of smog and smoke. I’d longed to pick wildflowers all day without a care in theworld, instead of being cooped in a London flat. I’d longed to lie in the long grass on one of those rolling green hills, feeling a brush as a gentlebreeze swept through the field and the grass tickled my skin.

I hated the fact that mom kept me hidden away from the beauty of the earth. The same earth that she’d taught me to love and appreciate. Istare off, trance-like caught up in my past memories. Chairs and Chloe’s feet rustle against the grass, but I’m not paying attention. Then I lift myhead slowly, and the most beautiful flower catches my eye. “What is that?”

Sunlight peaks through the trees and at the edge of my yard, and the flower glimmers a glowing white with pink splotches slathered along theinside of it. I know every flower that grows on every continent. I can name every plant and I know their purposes. But this flower…

I’ve never seen and flower like it, and I don’t know what it is.

Lurching forward, mesmerized, Charis and Chloe’s footsteps pound behind me, but I don’t pay attention.

“What are you looking at?” Chloe inquires.

I lift a finger, placing it against my lips, silencing Chloe with the gesture and stop at the edge of the left corner of my yard. The flower growsbeneath a massive redwood tree. The white and pink speckled petals are magnetic, they draw me closer. They are the metal and I am the magnet.

Charis throws herself in front of me and her forcefulness startles me. I jump backwards, panting. “What are you doing?”

Charis glances between me and the flower. “What are you doing?” she asks, shooting me a glare, eyes filled with accusation.

“What am I doing? I’m going to pick that flower, that’s what I’m doing.”

“Why would you want to pick that thing?” Charis glances over her shoulder and wrinkles her nose, then looks at me. “It’s just a stupid flower.”

I can’t even fathom the fact that she’s not blown away by the beauty of it. The single, solitary flower, resting only feet in front of me is the mostbreathtakingly beautiful flower I’ve ever seen. Balling my hands into fists I place them on my hips. “If it’s just a stupid flower I don’t know why you’restanding in front of me trying to keep me from picking it,” I retort.

Either one of two things is going on; either Charis knows more about this flower than she’s letting on, or she’s just trying to be difficult. I knowthe way the twins feel about nature and its balance. They preferred that mortals and Gods alike just left things be. Back in Greece, I recalled how

upset they used to get when workers would chop down trees to build ships. I’d spent hours consoling them after one of those occasions.

“It’s not just any flower,” Chloe adds.

I glare at Chloe. “What do you mean it’s not just any flower? What is it called?”

“Shhhh!” Charis snaps.

I lurch forward, closer, narrowing my eyes suspiciously. “What is going on?” They are definitely keeping something from me and I intend to findout what that something is. “Never mind,” I snap. “I don’t need to know what it’s called.” All I know is that it would look lovely in a vase on mynightstand.

Charis points over her shoulder. “Don’t you think it’s odd that they’re no other flowers growing around it?”

Craning my head over her shoulder, I shrug. “No. Not all flowers grow in patches or together.”

“Okay,” says Charis. “Don’t you find it odd that you don’t know what kind of flower it is?”

I’m stumped by that one. Yes, I do think it’s a little strange that I’ve never seen the flower before, but every time I look catch a glimpse of it, Ican’t help but feel the overwhelming urge to pick it. I throw my hands up into the air in fake frustration. “Fine,” I grumble, pretending to give up. “I’ll justgo find some other flowers to pick.”

I head to the opposite side of the yard, stopping half-way when I realize the twins aren’t following me. Twisting around partly, I slant my eyes atthem. “What is with you two? I said I’m going to pick some more flowers. Don’t you want to join me?”

The twins exchange awkward glances, but still don’t move.

Annoyed, I turn all the way around. Chloe stares at me and starts rolling her thumbs. “We know you,” she says uneasily. “At times, you’re a bitstubborn.”

Charis chimes in, “I think what Chloe is trying to say is; we know that you always try to get what you want. You’ve never, in all the years we’veknown you, have given up so easily on something you want. And right now, I know you want to pick this flower. And you can’t pick it. We won’t letyou.”

Her statement makes my mind churn like homemade butter. I think back to a time during my childhood in Ancient Greece. Mom had taken tome to a field and was teaching me about various types of plants and what their purposes were. We came across a poisonous type of plant growingin the brush just along the edge of the forest. Its leaves were green with bright red splotches in the center and thorns sharpened to a point lined its’muted green stem.

“Don’t touch that,” mom had warned me. “The toxins in that plant will hurt you.”

But me, being the forever curious child that I was, well, I touched it anyway. I should have listened to mom. I pricked my finger on one of thethorns, drawing blood and an intense warmth surged through me as a fever overtook me. Not long after that I was trembling from the chills.

Mom shook her head, disappointed while I stood there crying my eyes out. “I told you,” she’d said, scolding me before she carried me up toMount Olympus and nursed me back to health.

My mouth drops open and my eyes widen. Mostly, I’m in shock, surprised by how right on Charis is. I guess being a Goddess and an only childsometimes allows me to act like I’m entitled to certain things. “Do you honestly think I’d fight you for it?”

Charis’s eyes harden. “Yes. I do.”

“Fine.” I fold my arms across my chest. “Would you two just forget about it and come with me so I can find some other flowers to pick.” I startwalking. “Or I can just go by myself.”

The twins still don’t move and I’ve had enough.

I jog over to Charis planting my feet firmly into the ground in front of her. “Alright. Somebody better tell me what’s going on. What has got youtwo so worried?”

Chloe looks at Charis then at me. She points to the flower. “That flower shouldn’t be growing here.”

I’m confused and baffled and I find it comical that these two are educating me on this flower when I should be the one educating them. “Why?Flowers grow in places like this all the time.” Charis and Chloe exchange another glance. I sigh, frustrated. This whole little game is gettingexhausting. Why all the wary looks and hidden innuendos? “Someone please tell me!”

“That flower doesn’t grow on earth,” Chloe says quietly.

“What do you mean it doesn’t grow on earth?” I make a hand-gesture toward the flower. “It looks like it’s growing to me.”

“What my sister means is that flower should not be growing on earth,” Charis adds.

I frown and tap my foot. “Well, who planted it there then?”

Charis shrugs. “I don’t know.”

At the moment, I decide that I’m taking this matter into my own hands. Marching ahead, I shove Charis out of the way. There is only one way tofind out what is so damn special about this flower. I’ll just pick it and find out.

But Charis doesn’t let me get that far. Seconds after I’ve shoved her out of the way, she’s on her feet, rushing toward me. She barrels into myside and knocks me to the ground. I squirm beneath her, loosening my arm and I punch her in the side. She winces, clutching her ribcage and fallson the ground next to me. On my knees, I crawl toward the flower and once I finally reach it, I place my thumb and forefinger on the stem. I startpulling and then Chloe shrieks, “Stop! Picking that flower is a bad omen!”

I sit back, my fingers still on the stem. “What do you mean a bad omen? Don’t you think I’d know if picking the flower was a bad omen?”

“No,” says Chloe. “Like Charis said earlier, you don’t what kind of flower it is.”

“Just don’t pick it,” Charis grumbles, still clutching her side, struggling to sit up.

I start pulling on the flower again as looks of panic sweep across the twins’ child-like faces. “If one of you doesn’t give me a clear answer in tenseconds I’m going to pick this flower.”

Charis grunts and exhales, finally on her feet. “No. You’re going to take your fingers off the stem first or we’re not telling you anything.”

I sneer between her and Chloe. “How do I know you’re not trying to trick me? How do I know that once I remove my fingers that both of youwon’t play the “let’s not tell Persephone” game?”

Charis grits her teeth and blanches painfully. “I swear on my sister’s life.”

“Charis!” Chloe squeals with a hurt look on and her face.

I’m an only child, but I imagine swearing on your sibling’s life is a very serious thing. Especially after seeing Chloe’s reaction. I scoot back theslightest bit and remove my fingers from the stem. “Explain,” I demand as I place my hands on my waist.

“You can’t pick that flower because it doesn’t come from this world. It comes from the world beneath us,” Charis says.

“What?”

Chloe steps forward. “That flower only grows in the Underworld. It’s an asphodel.”

Then Charis adds, “The flower of the dead.”

Hades

Hades stood at the end of the field watching the Persephone and the twin wood nymphs argue over the flower he planted at the edge of thefield. “Pick the flower,” he said in a hushed voice. “Pick the flower.”

Still, Persephone did not pick it. Those damn twins stopped her.

Hades planted the asphodel in the yard, knowing that it was the most beautiful flower in the world. Well, not in this world, his world, theunderworld. He also knew that Persephone was the daughter of Demeter, the Goddess of the Harvest and she would have been taught toappreciate the beauty of plant-life and she’d also appreciate the unique beauty of a flower like the asphodel.

For a moment, he thought she was going to pick it. For a moment her dainty fingers rested on the stem and she was seconds away fromplucking it from the earth. Until the twins intervened and told her what it was. The identical pair with the crowns of raven curls were ruining everything.They knew when they saw it that something was off about an asphodel growing above ground. Perhaps they even sensed that something wouldhappen afterwards.

Hades knew what would happen to her too. Once she picked that flower, the earth beneath her would crumble. She would lose her balance,and therefore tumble from the land of the living into the land of the dead. She would be the Queen of the Dead and Hades would not give her back.However, this was going to be easier said than done. Hades knew Zeus, and he knew Demeter. Zeus would be outraged at the fact that after allthis time, Hades was able to find a way around the sensitive time shield. Demeter would be distraught at losing her child whom to which she wasextremely attached to. Hades didn’t care about them though, he knew what he wanted and he was selfish.

He snapped to attention when Persephone and the twins left the yard, wandering into the house. Seconds later, Demeter rushed out the backdoors, hands on hips, a fierce gleam in her eye. She’d remove the flower, Hades was certain of it, but he did have some time left. A few hours to beexact. And that was just enough time to come up with another plan. Something that would ensure that during this seventeen year span he wouldn’tend up empty handed.

The white petals of the asphodel blurred in his vision and Hades knew exactly what he was going to do. But before executing his plan, Hadesglanced at the patio where Persephone now stood, lost in a trance, eyes centered on the flower. This is my year, Hades thought.

Then, with a twist of his invisibility cloak, he blew the Goddess a kiss and returned to the underworld to await her arrival.

Persephone

After my party ended and every guest had left, I sit on the back porch staring up at the moon, consumed with anger. I’m mad at myself for beingso impressionable. I should have known better. I should have known that Hades was behind planting that flower. Shortly after the twins told me whatkind of flower it was I had a moment where I could practically feel death’s icy grasp on the back of my neck. I’d almost picked the flower. I wouldhave picked the flower. I owed the twins big for stopping me.

There were several moments where I felt enchanted. Like I was under a spell. Thinking about it, I wouldn’t have put it past Hades to trick me oruse some kind of magic to pull me under. He definitely could have placed some sort of enchantment over the flower that drew me to it.

The sound of crinkling plastic yanks me from my thoughts. I glance to my left and notice Adonis in his back yard, putting a black trash bag into atin garbage can. Moonlight shimmers down and graces the tips of his chestnut hair and certain strands of it look silver. A fuzzy feeling buzzes in mystomach and I don’t even realize I’m gawking. His tan skin glitters like he’s covered in amber gemstones. And he’s wearing a cut-off shirt thatreveals the toned muscles in his arms.

Adonis places the lid on the garbage can and the tin lid clunks against the tin can, echoing in the night air. I swallow hard, nervous, thinking thatit’s funny that I’m so captivated by watching Adonis do silly household chores. Watching him take out the trash is like watching a swan as it glidesgracefully across a calm body of water. I wonder how I’d react if I saw him washing dishes or running the vacuum.

“Hey! You!” Blinking, I snap out of my trance when I see him staring back at me. He jogs toward me and reminds of Trojan soldier, chargingforward into battle. I drop my gaze. Heat flushes my cheeks and pretty soon my whole face tingles. I hope he didn’t catch me staring at him. And ifhe did, I hope doesn’t mention it. I don’t how I’ll react if he does.

“Hi.” The words exit my throat so softly I can barely hear them. I clear my throat. “Hi,” I repeat, louder.

Adonis plops down next to me. His perfect white smile gleams in the moonlight. “How was the party, birthday girl?”

How did he know about my party? I don’t remember mentioning anything about a party to him. Maybe he had noticed all the cars in ourdriveway and made the assumption.

“Good.” One word answers are the only words I can muster up at this point. And my eyes keep trailing down from his face to his loose cut-off,just below his arms. There is an opening and I try to fight off the urge from staring at his muscled abs, but it doesn’t work. I feel like I’m burning themwith my eyes. And either Adonis doesn’t notice or he’s pretending not to.

He lifts his head, looking up into the sky. Flecks of brightness flicker in his ocher irises. “There are lots of stars out tonight,” he muses. “They’rebeautiful aren’t they?”

“Yeah.” The only problem is that I’m not looking at the stars, I’m looking at him. Sometimes with Adonis, I think that the word beautiful might bean understatement. No. More than sometimes.

He lowers his head and I meet his gaze. He stands and I’m saddened by the fact that he’s already planning to leave. “Well—I.” He freezes asthe sliding glass door opens and mom waltzes out onto the porch. His eyes flick toward her. “Hi Mrs. Jones,” he says politely.

We’ve had many last names through the centuries and “Jones” is our most recent adoptive surname. Mom always says, “Nobody is morenormal that the Joneses.”

“Hello, Adonis.” Mom waits a moment, staring at him intensely and I can tell by the look on her face she wants him to go home.

Adonis smiles at me and I return his smile, my insides fluttering. I have a stomach full of butterflies. “See you tomorrow Persephone.”

“See you tomorrow.” Then he jogs toward his house, disappearing into the shadows.

Mom sits down in the same spot he was sitting in, her emerald eyes immediately reverting to the moon. “Selene has been busy.”

I center on the night lantern being held up by miles of endless black. “She definitely has.” There were so many Gods and Goddesses thatsometimes I forgot about some. I’ve been away from that world for so long that I forget I’m a part of it most of the time.

Mom interrupts the moment of ambiance. “I don’t like the way you look at that boy.”

“Adonis?” My voice hikes.

“Yes,” mom says seriously. “Remember we can’t get close to the mortals. You know what will happen if they catch on.”

I huff and shift in my seat. “Yes,” I say in a snarky tone. “That means you’ll uproot me to another continent. Or who knows maybe finally there willbe life on Mars. Then maybe you’ll move me to another planet.”

“I know you hate moving and we’ve gone over this. We don’t age. Mortals do. Adonis will get old. Eventually, he will die. Imagine how painful itwill be for you to watch him age and wither away and you’ll still be young and youthful.”

“I wish you’d let me decide that for myself,” I snap.

“Maybe one day I will.” Mom rises from her seat and walks to the edge of the back porch. She picks up something from the ground and stalksthrough the yard. “What do you have in your hand?” I try to catch a glimpse of what she’s holding, but she keeps the object in her hand low—hiddenfrom my sight. Following her, I try to keep up as she walks ahead to the redwood at the end of our yard. “Mom, what are you doing?”

She lifts her right hand, snapping a pair of hedge clippers. “The twins told me about the asphodel. I’m cutting it down.”

Those little snitches. “Did you have them spy on me?”

Mom stops and puts her left hand on her hip. “No not spying. You make it sound so deceitful. I just made sure they kept you safe. Hades onlyhas until midnight to take you and I wanted to be sure that neither he nor Charon made a special appearance at your party.”

“Charon, the captain of the ferry from the Catalina Island thing?”

“Yes. Charon is Hades’ minion. He’s the ferryman for the dead. Only he can ferry a person across the Styx from the land of the living to the landof the dead. Hades is his master and does whatever Hades tells him to do.”

Mom starts walking again and I keep up with her stride for stride. “Don’t you think that I too will be on watch now. I won’t let him take me, mom.”

“He’s too crafty, Persephone and you are way too naïve. You don’t even know why he sent you the pomegranates.”

“Because you never told me,” I harrumph.

“You can’t eat in the realm of the dead or consume any food from it. If you do, you will be bound to that realm for part if not all of your eternallife.”

Red blurs in my vision like droplets of crimson oozing from a cut. In front of the tree grows a single red rose. The asphodel is nowhere in sight. Igawk at the fully bloomed flower, puzzled and scan the entire surrounding area. “I don’t understand. The asphodel was here a few hours ago. I don’tsee it anywhere.”

I reach toward the flower and mom slaps my hand away. “Uh uh. Don’t you pick that.”

“But it’s just a rose.”

“You know Hades is the master of deception. He only has until one minute before midnight to take you.” Mom bends down, palming the hedgeclippers.

I glance down at my watch as a loud snap fills my ears. “It is after midnight,” I say. “It’s one minute after midnight to be exact.” Mom standsgripping the rose and brings it to her nose. She inhales deeply and I watch intensely as her face lights up, the enticingly floral scent creeping into herlungs.

I snatch the rose from her. “Give me that.” I bring it my own nose desperate for its smell. A smell that reminds me of the spring and blazingsummer sun. A smell that reminds me of the essence of life and beauty.

The lively scent of fresh air and flowers travels down my esophagus, blossoming inside of me. I swear that I’m a budding flower. My petals areunfurling. At any second I will fully bloom. But then, the rose starts glowing. A bright white light beams from the stem and it magically begins totransform. Before I realize what’s happening I stare at the flower in my hand. I’m not holding a rose anymore. I’m holding an asphodel.

Mom panics and immediately tries to snatch the flower from my grasp, but it’s too late. Within seconds of its transformation the asphodel hasbecome speckles of small, glittering dust and it blows away in the wind.

Nothing happens.

Mom exhales and relief washes over her features. “Oh right,” she gasps. “It’s after midnight.” She pulls me to her chest and places a kiss on thetop of my forehead. “Thank the God’s.” I step away from the embrace and mom tilts her head motioning to the house. “Come on. It’s late and youhave school today.”

“Are you really going to make me go to school?” I shout as she turns her back to me. “After everything that’s happened!”

Mom strolls to the back door. “You long for normalcy. I’m treating you the way a normal parent would treat their child.”

“Ugh,” I scoff, taking a step forward, but as I try to lift my other foot something happens. The roots from the redwood tree shoot up out of the

ground, twisting and contorting like serpent. “Mom!” I shriek. “I don’t know what’s happening!”

Mom’s spins around, her face drenched in fear, and sprints toward me. “No! No!” she screams.

I hurl my body forward, but drop my eyes when I notice a small, sliver of a crack in the earth. “Mom! Hurry!” My lungs clench and I’m holding mybreath. The crack widens and soon clumps of the earth begin to fall into a deep black pit. Mom finally reaches me, but now the crack is so wide allshe can do is extend her hand. She can’t jump across. I reach for her. My fingers curl, needy and desperate.

“Just grab my hand!” she cries. She’s terrified and tears spill onto her cheeks. I extend my arm as far as I can and feel a surge of warmth as herfingertips brush against mine. Stretching the tips, I grapple with her hand, trying to get a firmer grasp, but it’s no use. The roots of the redwoodrelease my feet and the ground beneath me gives way.

“Persephone!” mom shrieks.

“Mooooom!”

Then I’m falling. Falling into a pit of the unknown. Shrouded by a blanket of black nothingness. Passing out as the darkness eats me up andswallows me.

Persephone

I wake up and every bone, muscle, and organ in my body aches. Sucking in a deep breath, I cry out as intense pain stabs at my lungs. MaybeI’m going to fall apart. Maybe my limbs will start dropping, one-by-one, landing in an odd arrangement on the ground. I hug myself tightly. I’mconvinced I can be a bandage. I can hold myself together, but as the pain stabs deeper and intensifies I know that’s not true. I don’t have immunityfrom pain or injuries. I only have immunity when it comes to death. And right now, I’m certain I’d rather die than go through any more pain like this.

I try to stand, but as I put weight on my right ankle it buckles and I hit my knees. My hands slide through moisture and grime while I continueusing them for leverage. Using the wall as my anchor, I get to my feet, staring up as a sliver of moonlight peaks through a tiny crack in the earth. I’mfrightened and desperate and I tell myself that maybe if I can climb the wall, no matter how long it takes me, maybe then I can climb out of thisconcrete tomb and go back to earth. But the second I start climbing, the crack slowly begins to close and soon I’m wrapped up in a black comforter.And I’m stuck on the slippery cement wall.

The darkness blinds me. I can’t go up and I can’t go down. I’m stuck in limbo and my fingers are sliding in muck and I’m losing my footing. Myheel catches in a divot and a burning pain blossoms in my ankle and travels up my thigh. Crying out, I lose my footing and plummet from the wall,hitting the ground with a thud.

All the bones in my spine crack as I sit up. The silence seeps into my pores and infiltrates my blood stream. Pretty soon it travels through myveins to my cranium and I’m certain my mind is playing tricks on me. A loud snap rings out and I jump. “Is someone there?” I grip the slippery walland pull myself up. My fingers slide, but I feel around and rest my elbow in a protruding cranny of cement. Putting pressure on my right ankle, I try towalk forward, but I can’t. I’ve sprained my ankle.

Wobbling ahead, half-limping, half-hopping, I remain against the wall with only the ability to feel my way around the room. Part of me wants togive up. I’m weak, in pain, and frightened. I feel like a toddler whose just been scolded by her parent. Every part of me wants to curl up into a balland cry. But I don’t. And I can’t. I need to find a way out of here. I have to find a way out of here.

By the time I’ve made it half-way around the room; I realize that the room is circular. Maybe I’m in an old well or something. There’s a mustysmell similar to mold and mildew and I find it odd that the walls are coated in sludge. The wall is my road map. I hate not having any sight? What ifthere is something lurking in the darkness? What if they’re waiting for their moment to jump out and attack me? How am I supposed to fight back if Ican’t see what’s coming?

Sliding to the left, I glide my hand forward feeling ahead. The wall dips off and I brush my fingertips against something cold and metal. Thecoldness shocks me, electrocutes me, and kicks my heartbeat into overdrive. A doorknob! I’ve found a doorknob! Hopping forward, I twist the doorknob and walk into a dimly lit corridor.

The floor is made of black marble. I’m afraid to step onto it. Too many things about this place don’t seem right. I feel like I’m exploring theinterior of an optical illusion. What will happen when I step on the floor? What if it’s quicksand? I’ll be suctioned, yanked under by an unknown force.Or what if it turns into a sea of hot tar? Then as the black sticky substance splashes against my peachy pallor it will melt away my flesh.

I heal a lot faster than mortals do. I know I’ll heal completely from the injuries I’ve sustained in about eight hours, but it still sucks that I have tosuffer through the pain until then. Crouching down, I press the tip of my finger into the marble. Then I press harder. The floor is firm, so I warily take astep forward. Then I hop. No illusion. The black marble floor is just a black marble floor.

Limping down the long corridor, I marvel at the elaborate cast iron candelabra’s lining the deep crimson walls. Tiny crystals dangle from themolten iron and create an afterglow along the walls. I glance to my left, then to my right. There are no doors lining the hall and straight ahead itseems like the hall stretches on miles. I limp faster. I don’t know if I’ll make it. No. I shake my head as a reassuring feeling washes over me,cleansing me of any doubts I might have had. This is a hallway and no matter how long it is it has to lead me somewhere, right?

After limping for what feels like decades, I come to a dead end. Every shred of hope I have seeps out of me like perspiration oozing from mypores after spending hours in the sun. I’m a human sweat box. Dehydrated and drenched and sadness sits in the pit of my stomach eating all of myother emotions. All hope is lost.

I lift my head and a gold cord of a rope with fringe adoring the edges blurs in my eyes. Inching my fingers closer, I contemplate pulling it. ShouldI, or shouldn’t I? I clench my fist right below it as the fringe brushes against my knuckles. Determination pumps through me like oil being injected intothe engine of a car. Suddenly, I don’t what will happen. I tell myself I need to stop being afraid. I tell myself that yes, something is going to happenwhen I yank on this rope, but if it’s going to get me out of this maze of a hallway then so be it.

Yanking on the rope, I pull with so much force I feel like I’m going to rip it down from the ceiling. After I release it, I wait. One second. Tenseconds. Before I realize it a minute has passed and nothing has happened. Hobbling around, I place my back against the wall and let out afrustrated sigh. Hanging my head low, puddles of tears swell up and drop on to the black abyss of a floor. Then I perk up when I hear a clickingsound. It starts slow, separated by a ten second time span and suddenly the clicking picks up. Whirling. Grinding. Like someone is sharpening apencil. And just as I perk up and back away from the wall, the floor beneath me gives way, crumbling to bits and miraculously repairing itself. And

I’m falling again.

I land on my back and choke on a strangled breath as the abrupt force from the fall knocks the wind out of me. There’s a hand inside my bodysqueezing the air from my lungs. Tighter and tighter, the hand clenches. Someone is squeezing the life out of me. Rolling over on to my side, Iwheeze and cough out. Breathe, just breathe. At this point tiny white and red dots flash before my eyes and I feel like I’m going to pass out. Afterblinking several times, my eyes are filled with black and I place my forehead against the cool marble floor. The icy tile feels slick and smooth and itsfreezing temperature brings goose bumps to my flesh. Thoughts gnaw at the nerve endings of my brain like I’ve just ingested anthrax. I want to knowwhere I am, but I can’t muster up the strength to pick myself up from the floor.

A minute passes. Then five. Next ten. There’s only a sliver of me that wants to move. I want to lie here forever against the cold tile. I want it tothrill me and chill to the bone over and over again. There’s something refreshing about its coldness. I’m twisted. I’m a contortionist. My limbs are likewiry tree branches. Frozen forever in a particular way and sticking out at odd angles, but I don’t care. As uncomfortable as my position is, I hope Istay this way forever.

I wait for another twenty minutes then slowly pick myself up off the floor, mouth gaping open as I take in my surroundings. High vaulted ceilingsloom above me made out of a smooth molted kind of black rock. Lowering my gaze, I center on the thick cherry-stained table, complete with twelvechairs. Five on each side. Two on the ends. A six tiered crystal chandelier hung down in the center and each crystal has to be at least six incheslong. I’m in a palace and I haven’t seen a palace this decadent in thousands of years. Olympus was like this, except we didn’t have some of themodern luxuries that people have today. I’m so absorbed in the creepy, yet beautiful setting, that I jump when I hear a whoosh from behind me. I spinaround to a blazing fire, encased by a black, red, and grey marble fireplace. Who lit the fire? It wasn’t lit when I fell into this room.

Limping, I stand in front of the fireplace and hold my hands out, warming them. The bright orange fire crackles and hisses and one of theflames nearly licks my hand. I take a step back, but can still feel the heat caressing my palms. Then I hear soft footsteps and my entire body stiffens.A shadow is cast over the fire dancing along with the flames. Hades is behind me. I am sure of it. Despite all of my injuries, I’m filled with so muchanger that I feel like a torpedo, jetting through the cold ocean in search of a vessel to crash into. A vessel to blow to smithereens.

Whipping around I lunge at him, tackling him and we both hit the hard marble floor—hard. I slide away from him and use the corner of thefireplace to hoist myself up. “You!” I shout as hatred and rage jumble together rippling through me. He’s wearing a stunned look as he picks himselfup. “Do you know what you’ve done?”

“Of course I know what I’ve done,” he states. He’s all thrills and chills, not an ounce of warmth to his tone.

“Well, you’d better undo it!” I limp toward him, as pain surges through my ankle, up my shin, and throbs at my knee cap. I wince and look away,swallowing hard. Then I put on a fierce brave face and narrow my eyes. “My mom is probably worried sick!”

Hades tilts his head to the side and centers his gaze on my ankle. “Did you hurt yourself?”

“What business is that of yours?” I harrumph.

He starts for me and I back away. “Stop moving,” he commands. He takes another step forward and I take another step back. Hades exhales,frustrated. “We can do this the easy way or we can do it the hard way. Now stay put!”

I won’t listen to him. He just tricked me. He stole me from my home. He’s a thief. And mom always taught me to never trust a thief, so when hemoves again so do I. Then I smile triumphantly, but that smile fades when he vanishes from in front of me and appears behind me. I try to step away,but he latches onto my elbow and grips it hard. I swat at him. “Let me go!”

But he doesn’t. He tightens his grip and crouches down wrapping his long slender fingers around my ankle. I struggle then stop as anoverwhelming warmth floods through my limbs and makes my skin tingle. “What are you doing?”

Hades straightens up and backs away. “Try walking on it.”

I move away. My limp is gone. The ache in my ribs is gone. I feel rejuvenated. Brand new. Like an unwrapped toy underneath a Christmas tree.Rolling my ankle I stare at the appendage, baffled. “How did you do that?”

“I am the God of the Dead. I have the power to do a lot of things.”

For a second I forget that I’m angry with him. He’s observing me yet at the same time looking at me in an entitled way. Like he owns me. I’m nota pet. I’m a person and I have free will. He does not and never will own me. Circling him, I narrow my eyes. “You might think I don’t know anything,but I know all about you, Hades.”

An amused expression crosses over his features and he places his forefinger and thumb on his chin. “Is that so? Why don’t you enlighten methen? Tell me what you think you know, Persephone.”

I decide that being vague is my best option. “All I need to know.” I stop walking around him and face him. “Now you take me back to earth, rightnow.”

“I don’t like that idea,” he replies. “Besides, it’s not that simple.”

“Sure it is. You took me, now take me back. See, it’s simple.”

He glares at me like I’m an escapee from an insane asylum. He lowers his gaze searching the floor for my discarded straight jacket. “You canstand there making demands and protest all you want,” he says, looking at me again. “I’m not taking you back.”

Balling my fists, I slam them at my sides. “Take me back!”

He appears to be thinking it over. Then he shakes his head. “No, I don’t think so.”

“You are taking me back!”

“No. I am not.”

“You can’t just steal me! I’m someone’s child!” I’ve never been away from my mother for more than six hours. She’s probably a mess. I pictureher sitting at the kitchen table sobbing. Knowing she’s in pain tears me up inside.

Hades slinks closer to me. “Why not? I take people all the time.”

“After they die! This is different!”

“How, so?”

Frustration bubbles in the pit of my stomach. I’m not in the mood to play his games. “Stop this! You know the answer to that!”

He smirks. “Do I?”

I scream so loud and so boisterous I swear it shakes the entire room. “You know I’m an immortal! You know I will not die!”

The thought of death makes me shudder. I don’t want to think about dead things. Cold corpses. No heartbeat. Dead plants. The underworld willbe full of all the things dead. I don’t belong here. I belong on earth with mom, walking amongst plants, animals, and mortals that are alive.

“None of that matters,” Hades says, changing the subject. “You’re not going anywhere.”

At the moment, I don’t feel like standing here bantering with the God of Dread. Yes, as Marisol once put it, the God of Dread. When I saw himin the field in my dream in the field he looked alive. With color in his cheeks and a sparkle in his blue-green eyes. Examining him now, his skin looksashy and pale, like the sun hasn’t kissed his it in centuries. His hair is a dull shade of black licorice. But his eyes, they were the only thing that sethim apart from looking dead all together. They were exquisite. Like sapphires and emeralds melted together.

As I peer into them, I feel like I’m looking through them. Like he’s translucent. An apparition. A spirit. I can see all of him. And there is a spark inhis eyes. I can’t decide what kind of spark it is exactly, but there is a spark and that small spark gives me hope. Hope that maybe he isn’t the cold,despicable, and mysterious God he seems to be. Maybe he is capable of feeling. Capable of expressing emotion.

I inch closer, standing before him. Even though he towers over me in height, and his shadow covers my entire body, I’m determined to show nofear. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll take me back right now. You don’t want to piss off Zeus, do you?”

Hades scoffs, “I’m not afraid of Zeus.” He backs away from me and leans against the fireplace, staring into the whirling flames. “And if youthought that I would be, well, then you’re an idiot.”

My jaw drops. “How dare you?” I sneer at him and huff, “You might not be afraid of him now, but if you don’t return me you will regret saying whatyou just said.”

He shrugs and lets out an icy laugh. “I will never fear Zeus. And in case your parents didn’t mention this; he’s the one who promised you to mein the first place.”

“He changed his mind,” I growl.

Hades stares at me. “I have no respect for God’s who go back on their word.”

None of my reverse psychology is working. I was hoping that maybe I could borrow a play from his book and use Zeus’s wrath in attempt to gethim to return me, but it backfired. So I try a different approach. “Do you have children?”

He shifts his gaze to the floor and it softens. “No.” Then his gaze hardens as he looks back up at me. “What does that have to do with any ofthis?”

“If you don’t have children of your own then I’m sure you have no idea what it’s like for a parent when their child goes missing.”

“But you’re not missing. Your parents know exactly where you are.”

“That’s not the point!”

He circles me, staring, like he’s the madman and I’m his experiment gone awry. “Then what is the point, Persephone?” I try to come up with ananswer, but as soon as I open my mouth to speak he cuts me off. “There’s no point in discussing this any further. You were meant to be mine. Endof story.”

This is enrages me. I am not a prize a person covets. “I don’t belong to anybody! I belong to myself!”

Hades gives me an icy glare, and then walks out the door. I stand in my spot for a moment when it occurs to me that maybe I should befollowing him. Dashing out of the room, he’s so far in front of me he looks like a spec of black dust.

“Where are you going?” I shout after him.

“I’m showing you to your room!”

Sprinting, I close the distance between us. When I finally catch up to him, the rubber soles on my shoes slide against the black marble and Ismack right into his back. Hades stumbles forward, catches his balance, then faces me with ferocity in his eyes and a sneer on his face. “Watchwhere you’re going,” he growls.

His hostile attitude hits a nerve and tears brim in my eyes. My chin quivers and I place my hand over my mouth to keep the hysterical cry stuckin my throat from spilling out. Finality hits me. I may never see my mom again. I might never feel the warm sun against my skin overheating everypart of my body. I’m doomed—cursed to an eternity of the musty scent of fermented things and rotting mildew. I’ll live out my eternal life in a worldfilled with death and despair. I can’t. I can’t do it. So I hit my knees and exhaust my last option. “Hades, please,” I beg. “Please take me back.” Anagonizing swirl of pain pumps through my heart and as I close my eyes tears spill down my cheeks. “Please,” I sob. “I’ll do anything you ask. Justtake me back!”

Honestly, I don’t expect him to be sympathetic to my pleading, but I do expect him to show some sort of compassion at the sight of my tearsand how much pain I’m in. He shows none. I wrap my arms around his leg, and shake uncontrollably, crying harder than I ever have before.

Hades steps forward, walking through an open doorway with me still clinging to his leg. “This is your room,” he says flatly. The he lifts his leggiving it a forceful shimmy and I release it, curling up onto the floor. I’m hysterical. I scream. Wail. Howl out and pound my fist into the cold, blackmarble floor.

Then it occurs to me that I’m acting like a child. Only toddlers threw temper tantrums like this and as I lift my head, I notice that Hades is goneand the door to my room is closed. Where did he go? Why did he leave me in here?

I jump up quickly, sucking back my tears, and run to the door. I twist the knob several times. “Son of a—!” He locked me in. I’m a prisoner. Hisprisoner. Slamming my fists into the thick wood, I shriek, “Hades! Let me out!” I resort to kicking the door. “You hear me! Let me out!”

After pounding on the door for ten minutes straight and wasting half of my energy in the process, I slide down against the back of the door andwipe away the remaining wetness that lingers on my cheeks. I’m no longer angry. I am hurt. I’ve never met someone like Hades. I’ve never metsomeone so…cold. This bothers me. If I saw a person begging and pleading and hysterical, seeing them like that would snap the strings to myheart. I don’t think Hades has a heart. I think his organ is surrounded by a layer of ice. An extremely thick layer of ice.

Lifting my head, I take inventory in the contents of my prison. Standing up, my eyes drift around the extravagant room. The flooring is blackmarble of course as is most of the flooring in the underground palace, but the walls are a deep shade of violet. A chandelier, similar to the one fromthe dining hall hangs in the center of the ceiling and the crystals shimmer in the dim lighting. And the bed is more elaborate and expansive than anybed I’ve ever seen. With a black marble frame, a king sized mattress and sheer lavender and violet linens hanging off the canopy as curtains.

My eyes shift to the left side of the room and I stroll over to a vanity. Touching the velvet cushioned bench, I gaze at the assortments of bath oils,lotions, perfumes, and make-up organized neatly on top of the vanity table.

Mom believes in living modestly, another part of the blending process. “Think about it, Persephone,” she’d said. “If we drive into a new townwith flashy, expensive cars, move into the biggest house, and dress up in the latest fashion trends the first thing the mortals will do is start askingquestions. Who are they? What do they do? Where did they come from? How did they get all that money?”

Mom had a point. When we moved to Klamath Falls, we rolled up in a station wagon from the 1970’s, with our belongings tied to the roof.Wearing clothes from Target and no one asked any questions. To them we were just another ordinary family in a new place.

Because of my modest upbringing, the elaborate decorations in my room leave me awe-struck, spinning in a circle, taking everything inseveral times.

Walking over to the bed, I fall backwards onto the mattress that could sleep at least five people and roll over. I’m drained and exhausted. Morethan anything I’m depressed. “Damn you, Hades,” I mumble, letting out a yawn. Then I make a mental note. I can’t lie here and curse myself andHades and keep on pouting about being here like a child. I won’t accomplish anything by doing that. I should be doing something about myentrapment, like trying to come up with a plan. I should be trying to figure out a way to get out of here on my own.

Tomorrow is a new day. Tomorrow, first thing, I am going to get out of this hell-hole. With that in mind, I drift off to sleep. Maybe I’ll wake uptomorrow and realize that everything that happened today was a nightmare. Maybe tomorrow, I’ll wake up in my own house and in my own bed.Somehow…I doubt it.

Demeter

Those who are not parents could never fully understand how much a parent loves their child. They wouldn’t understand the bond. Demeter knewthat bond, she knew it well. But that bond seemed distant now, that bond seemed like it was about to disappear.

Demeter was certain that she was going crazy. Persephone had only been gone for hours, but to her it felt like days. For the longest time, afterHades had pulled her under, Demeter walked in a circle through her backyard calling out her child’s name. The Goddess convinced herself thatshe’d just imagined everything that went down. She’d convinced herself that Persephone had just wandered off. Maybe her child was just frolickingin the meadow behind their house. Maybe she was deep in the forest searching for wildflowers.

Even though Demeter knew neither one of those scenarios were real, she kept pretending they were because she knew that was the onlyshe’d push through. Otherwise, she’d be an emotional zombie for decades. Maybe even centuries. She could not face the fact that the God ofDeath had taken her child and she might never be coming back.

Unable to sleep, Demeter strolled along the sidewalk in her neighborhood, calling out her child’s name. “Persephone! Persephone!” Shecouldn’t understand why she was doing this. She knew where Persephone was, but in the back of her mind she still hoped—no—prayed that maybeeverything that just happened was an illusion.

Demeter stopped in front of her driveway and stared painfully at her house. A vision of Persephone popped into her head and a faint smilecurled on her lips. Persephone was walking down the driveway on her way to school and she was standing the doorway waving goodbye to her.During that moment, as she reminisced of that fond memory, it took everything inside of Demeter to stay standing and not collapse on thepavement.

She heard a voice behind her. “Mrs. Jones?” The voice belonged to the neighbor boy, Adonis. The one Persephone walked to school withevery morning.

At first Demeter said nothing to the boy. She was in a trance-like state, staring blankly at the smooth concrete on the sidewalk in front of her.Then she took notice in him, staring at his perfect features and she could have sworn that she knew him from somewhere. She could have swornthat she’d seen him before. She shrugged off the thought. She was blinded by grief and her mind was playing tricks on her.

But the boy didn’t just leave when she didn’t answer him. “Mrs. Jones, are you okay?” Still, Demeter remained silent. The boy walked around infront of her. “Is Persephone ready?” he probed. “We’re supposed to walk to school together.”

She blanched at hearing the sound of her daughter’s name. And the only words she could manage were, “Uh uh. No.”

Adonis scrunched his eyebrows together. “Is she sick?”

“Yes,” Demeter lied. It wasn’t that she planned on being dishonest. It was that she was overwhelmed with grief and the boy kept on remindingher of Persephone and how she might never see her again.

“Oh,” Adonis said. “Well, tell her I hope she feels better.”

“I will.” The she turned to walk up her driveway.

Back in the kitchen, Demeter sat at the kitchen table and laid her head flat against the wood. She wasn’t physically capable of doing anything.She could not eat. She could not sleep. She didn’t even think she was capable of using the restroom if she had to.

More than anything she blamed herself for Persephone’s disappearance. Why hadn’t she been able to see past Hades trick? In the past shehad always been able to see past his tricks, why not now? All of a sudden a loud bang echoed from the front door, but Demeter remained in herchair with her head down. She didn’t feel like seeing anyone else today.

Seconds later loud heavy footsteps paraded down the hallway and a presence lingered in the doorway. “Demeter,” Zeus said. “I came as soonas you called.

She had completely forgotten about calling Zeus.

“He took her,” she whispered.

Zeus inched closer and Demeter lifted her head slowly. Tears brimmed in her eyes and Zeus took her head in his hands. “Don’t worry,” he saidthoughtfully. “I’ve set a plan in motion. We are going to get her back. We will get her back.”

Persephone

I’m not dreaming. The sad reality sets in when I wake up hours later in the same bed I had fallen asleep in. But, during my slumber a dream didcome to me. And in that dream was a message. A message that showed me how to escape.

I remembered talking with mom about Charon, the ferryman. The minion of Hades who ferried the souls of the dead across the Styx from theland of the living. Aside from Hades, he is the only other immortal who can cross both realms. He could take me back. I haven’t eaten anything sinceI’ve been here, so there’s nothing to bind me to this world. A grin sweeps across my lips. Maybe today is going to be a good day after all.

Much to my surprise, Hades must have decided that while I slept I was worthy of having my door unlocked. This is a blessing, well; a blessing tome, but it will be a disaster for Hades. I wonder what he’ll do when he discovers that I’m gone. Flinging the door open, I glance down the hall warily.It’s abandoned and the silence fills my ears. Turning, I close the door to my room quietly, and then creep out into the hall. The rubber on my tennisshoes squeaks against the marble flooring. I wince glancing over my shoulder. I’m making too much noise. So I remove my shoes, tuck them undermy armpit and continue walking.

Once I reach the end of the hall, I stop in front an open door. Peaking inside, the room appears to be some kind of control room with glowingbuttons, gleaming chrome, and televisions everywhere. Spread across, below the wall of televisions, is a massive keyboard with various buttonsand gadgets.

For someone like me, who is always letting my curiosity get the best of me, this room is a playground. I want to know what all these buttons arefor. I want to push them. Stepping inside, I stroll over to the keyboard staring at a giant red lever labeled earth. Hmm. I wonder what will happen if Ipull the lever. Will the entire underworld fall apart and break off into pieces, crumbling like the twin towers? I shrug. “Nah.” So I pull the lever thenwait. Nothing happens. Maybe it’s useless. Or maybe it’s broken or something. My eyes dart around the room. I’m wasting time standing herecontemplating whether the lever I just pulled is broken, so I head for the door. But I only make it a few steps and the whole room goes black. What’sgoing on? Maybe the lever is like a light switch. Maybe if I push it up, the lights will come back on.

Pivoting on my heel, I strut back to the lever. My arm is outstretched and my fingers inch closer. I’m just about to push the red bar up when abright light reflecting off one of the television screens catches my eye. Turning, I face what is behind me. My mouth drops open, my eyes widen.

Rotating on its invisible axis is a hologram version of earth. With bright blue, green glowing colors, and tiny red dots placed sporadically allover it. I smile, kind of amused. It looks like the earth has what mortals call the chicken pox. I slink closer to the hologram in awe. The lights flicker inmy eyes and I reach out to touch it, but when I do the tips of my fingers skim right through it. I jump back, startled when a computerized voicescreeches, “Name please.”

“Name please,” the female voice repeats.

I don’t have a name to give her. I’m puzzled. Then it dawns on me. This has to be how Hades keeps track of all the dying mortals in the world.Or all the mortals in the world in general. When you have to give them judgment on how they’ll live out eternity, I imagine that you have to watch themthroughout their lives too. The world continues spinning and I wonder something; I wonder if Hades can keep track of the immortals too.

“Name please,” rings out a third time.

Stepping forward, I’ve got an idea. “Demeter Jones,” I say softly. Maybe if I can actually see mom I might feel a little better inside. I’m moreworried about her than I am myself.

The earth whirls around so fast it becomes a blur. “Locating, Demeter Jones.” All of a sudden the hologram earth vanishes. In place of it is apicture mom. Underneath her image are written words.

Demeter Jones

Member of the Immortals

Goddess of the Harvest and Fertility.

Most recent place of residency – Klamath Falls, OR.

“Wow,” I gasp. Hades really does know everything. Focusing on the floor, I exhale and then I hear it…sobbing.

Mom’s photo fades from the screen. In place of the photo is a streaming video. I’m baffled and elated at the same. How is Hades able to dothis? Does he plant cameras in every household on earth? The questions in my head drift away when I get a better look at mom’s face. Her eyesare bloodshot, with purplish circles underneath. Like she hasn’t slept in days. Her skin is pale and her cheekbones are sunken in a tiny bit. If I knowher, she hasn’t eaten either. She hangs her head low and sobs uncontrollably. Zeus steps into view and places his hand on mom’s shoulder and

caresses it gently. “Demeter, we’ll get her back. I promise.”

I try to touch the hologram, but just like before, my fingers slide right through it. “Mom!” I shout. “Can you hear me?”

She can’t.

Seconds later the feed disappears and is replaced with the hologram earth again. Seeing mom like that shreds me to pieces. I’m pounds ofraw hamburger being forced through a meat grinder. Red and pink pieces curling onto a Styrofoam tray, waiting for the butcher to package me forsale.

No more distractions. No more exploring. I have to get out of here. Now.

Stomping back to the keyboard. I push the lever up with so much force I almost snap it off. I am going to get out of this realm of doom andgloom. No matter what it takes.

Persephone

After getting lost three times and wasting what seems close to two hours, I finally find my way to the double doors that lead outside of Hadespalace. I take a deep breath and yank the doors open, stepping out into a realm of emptiness, death, and misery. And after standing outside thepalace for only seconds, all I want to do is turn around and go back inside.

There’s something levitating in thick air of the underworld that makes me feel like every ounce of goodness has been drained from my body.Now I can see why Hades is the way he is. If I had to look at this devastating depressing realm every day for all of eternity I’d be bitter and cold too.The exterior of the palace is made of black hardened rock that reminds me of tar, bubbling for centuries in a tar pit, then cooling permanently in oddshapes and sizes. Circular towers stretch upward pointed like a sewing spindle, disappearing into a line of heavy gray smog. Dead trees line thewalkway, with limbs like broken bones, bent and misshapen. And encircling the perimeter are asphodels. Asphodels everywhere.

I run over to the white and pink speckled flowers, determined to destroy them. I rip the asphodels from the ground, tear them in pieces, throwthem down, stomp on them and kick them. If I never see another asphodel for the rest of my immortal life I’ll be perfectly content with that. But itdoesn’t matter. Seconds after I’d destroyed some of them, the bare spots on the ground are replaced with new ones. The white blossoms bloombefore my eyes like they’d been sleeping all winter and have just been graced with the spring sunshine.

Screaming in frustration, I drop the remaining flowers in my hands and sprint through the canopy of dead trees. Bats flap their wings above myhead and I use my arms as a shield and cover myself. The walkway made of grayish clay stretches on for a half a mile and I’m too afraid to drop myarms. This place is full of uncertainty and I have no idea what it has in store for me. And I assume that means there will be worse things than a fewbats.

At the end of the walkway, I come to a halt and peak through my arms. Thick, impossible to see through, smog looms above me, but I don’t seeany more bats so I lower my limbs. Two feet in front of me is a wide gap in the ground. Connecting each side is a narrow cemented bridge. A brideso narrow, it looks almost like a balance beam. Peering over the edge of my side of the gap, I shudder at the drop. It has to be at least one hundredfeet. Jagged rocks stick out at various angles and I wince when I think about having to recover from a fall that severe.

Backing up to give myself some running room, I make a mental note to just sprint forward and not look down. But then I center on the other sideof the gap. There is a wall of smog so thick it reminds me of a brick wall. A barrier. A blockade, keeping one side of the underworld away from theother. One side is Troy, the other a clever Greek king named Agamemnon. The Trojan wall was a fortress of safety, but the entire world knows thatno matter how big the barrier, cement can’t block intelligence.

I know my freedom waits on the opposite side of this gap. Even though I’m terrified of what awaits me, dead things mostly, I have to pushthrough it. I just have to. Adrenaline pumps though me and I hop up and down amping myself up. I close my eyes and exhale, listening to the calmsound of rushing water. “This is the key to your freedom,” I say aloud. I’ve come to the conclusion that the only way I’m going to find this Charon guyis by crossing this bridge.

So I charge forward, feet pounding into the clay, staring straight ahead. Loose rocks breaking off and smacking into the walls of the deepravine fill my ears. Panting, I keep going, pushing myself. A few more paces. A few more paces and I’ll be on the other side. And before I realize it,I’m an immortal wrecking ball blasting through a wall of thick gray smog.

Hades

The God of the Dead leaned against the wooden frame of his future queen’s door. Her comforter was flipped over and her violet satin sheetswere a crumpled mess. She had definitely slept in her bed, but that left him wondering; where was she now?

Puzzled, Hades strolled into the adjoining bath, to see that every item in it was still in place. None of the towels had been used. All theexpensive luxurious soaps he had purchased were still in their fancy wrappings and the bathtub was bone dry.

In the hall, he examined the marble tile, hoping to spot some footprints or something to give him some explanation on which direction she mighthave gone. He knew his realm. He knew the wicked and despicable things that lurked around every corner and he feared for his future queen. He’dbeen hostile with her yesterday and he assumed she might be angry with him. That was the last thing Hades wanted. He wanted to show theGoddess he’d been obsessed with for thousands of years that there was more to him than what he’d put off the previous day.

He loved the fact that she was a bit defiant. It meant that she wasn’t weak. He couldn’t have a weakling sitting in a throne next to him. The realmof the dead chewed up weaklings and spit them out.

All of a sudden, the sound of Cerberus’s thunderous footsteps pounded through the narrow hall. Stopping at Hades feet, the three-headed doghung his middle head low, his snout planted on a particular portion of the black marble. Hades bent down and stroked each one of the dog’s threeheads. “Good boy,” he cooed.

Straightening up, he pointed his finger at his best friend. “Cerberus, heel.” The dog sat down and all three tongues from all three heads rolledout, hanging as the pet panted.

Cerberus licked his master’s face and Hades planted his fingers against the marble and closed his eyes. In a last ditch effort he infiltratedPersephone’s mind to find out exactly where she was going. Then the mighty God laughed out loud. Persephone was definitely clever. He’d giveher that.

And now he knew exactly where to find her.

Persephone

Shadows. There are shadows everywhere. Big ones. Small ones. Shadows of different shapes. Circles. Triangles. Squares. The shadows areeerie and creepy and as they pass over my face they make me feel cold and empty inside. The shadows are swallowing my years of existence.Eating me alive. The shadows won’t disappear until I’m a robot. Luckily for me, I’ve lived for a long time.

Speaking of being cold, when I’d first arrived I assumed that the underworld would be hot, but it’s the opposite. It’s freezing down here. My teethchatter as I massage my arms, rubbing warmth back into them. Every time I stop massaging my arms a fresh array of goose bumps sprout up whileI trudge through what appears to be a massive bleak underground desert.

Funnels of gray sand swirl around me and a gust of cold air blasts me in the face. The desert is never-ending and seems too calm for my taste.When things are calm that usually means something is about to happen. I am right.

Voices hiss around me, spinning in circles filling up my head and drowning out my thoughts. I feel like I’m in crowded room, boxed in by thechatter. Except these voices aren’t speaking coherently and there isn’t a person in sight. I know the underworld is a land of illusion. I know it’s aplace where nothing is as it seems. But it’s one thing to know those things. To actually experience the strangeness of another realm, that’ssomething completely terrifying.

A sudden tap on my shoulder causes me to spin around. “Hello.” My vocal chords quiver and fear spreads through me like the plague. “Hades?Is that you?”

Squinting ahead a sheer shadow with a white film covering appears before me. As the shadow lurches closer I can tell it isn’t a shadow at all.It’s an apparition. A ghostly ghoul determined to haunt me. A discarded spirit determined to scare the bejeezus out of me. And it’s working.

Before I’m able to let out a scream, the spirit bursts into a million pieces. Like raindrops suspended in an atmosphere without gravity. Theghost particles hang in the air for a minute, and then fall to the ground. They linger on the gray clay then like they are being sucked through theground by an invisible vacuum, the particles disappear. Great. I have enough to deal with and now I have to add one more thing to that—ghosts.

More apparitions appear. Men. Women. Even children. And they float toward me like astronauts, suspended in the air by lack of gravity. Theirfaces hollow and sunken in. Mouths forming an “o” shape as they let out gluteal moans. All they do is moan. None of them utter a clear word. It’s likesomeone stabbed each one of them in the neck with a scalpel and twisted their vocal chords around the blade so they wouldn’t be able to speakcoherently. Their arms are extended, like they are reaching out for me. Like they are begging me for help. I am their savior.

But I’m not their savior. I’m just a Goddess who has been running from their commander her entire life. I’m just a Goddess who prays every dayto be considered normal. I’m just a Goddess who wants nothing more than to go home.

I am not their queen. I don’t want to be and I never will be. Yet they float closer and closer as fear takes a firmer hold of my insides. Swallowinghard, I tell myself I can’t let my fear get the best of me. I need to keep going because I have to be getting close to the Styx. As the spirits loomcloser, I take a few steps back. And when the first ghost is only inches away from me, that’s when I take off running.

There’s no traction in the soles of my tennis shoes and as I run, I’m slipping and sliding in the gray sand. Minutes pass and I’m still running. Ithink about giving up. But I can’t. I hear them behind me. I hear their tortured moans filling up the whole underworld and that’s what keeps me going.Still stampeding forward, I struggle to breathe. “What do you want with me?” I rasp in between breaths. I don’t know why I bother asking. I know theycan’t speak.

The spirits are gaining on me. They float faster than I can run. Glimpsing over my shoulder I see the first one only feet away from me, so I pushmyself harder. I make myself run faster. But my body is wearing down. I need to catch my breath or I’m going to pass out. My heart thunders in mychest. My joints ache. I’m starting to topple over. I’m the Leaning Tower of Pisa, but I catch myself before I crash and crumble over some village inItaly.

Up ahead is another thick wall of smog. If I can make it through the smog then maybe I’ll end up in another part of this realm. Maybe the smogwill catapult me into another dimension. Any part of this realm is better than where I am now. Being chased by the dead through a desert of graysand and whirling cyclones sucks.

I sprint through the mass of smog like a marathon runner who has just ripped the red ribbon with their abdomen and crossed the finish line. Thecrowd cheers and jeers letting out a boisterous round of applause at my accomplishment. Except my crowd is a bevy of ghosts. And they are stillfollowing me. I hear their wails of agony as they blast through the smog.

Spinning in a circle I realize I have nowhere to go. Behind me is a river and the murky brownish-green waters jilt back and forth lapsing into thegray sand. Stepping backwards, I back up until I can’t anymore. One more step and I’ll plummet into the murky waters of the river and be whiskedaway by the current. I can’t run. I can’t hide. They are moaning for me. They are coming for me.

In a last resort effort, I duck and throw my hands over my head as each ghost passes through my body into the choppy waters of the river

behind me. And every time a ghost passes through me I feel myself getting weaker and weaker. Finally, after the last one disappears, I hit my kneesgoing face first into a mountain of gray sand. But at least I can breathe again. At least my lungs are expanding and working correctly. And mostimportantly, I’m so glad I’m not a vessel for the dearly departed anymore.

Picking myself up, I sit down facing the river. I clutch my chest feeling it rise up and down and drop my head in between my knees for a minute.Then I lift my head and debate on jumping into the river and trying to swim across it. The water whizzes past me at a high speed and I decideagainst it. The last thing I want is to be swept off in the current of an unknown river and not knowing when or if I’d ever be found.

Then I’m hit with an epiphany. It hits me so hard I feel like someone has just smacked me in the face with a shovel. The bitter taste of metal fillsmy mouth and I swear there is a red welt on my cheek. Is it possible that I’m sitting on the banks of the Styx? Right behind the water is a kind ofbrown stone cavern with dim lights and a wooden dock of some kind. A dock! Why else would there need to be a dock if wasn’t to let the ferrymanon and off the ferry?

I jump up from my spot so overwhelmed with excitement that I feel like I’ll grow wings and soar through the air. I look up at the cloudy grayskyline. What kind of bird would want to fly down here? A dead one. I tuck the morbid thought in the back of my mind and focus on the dock againwhen a wave of depression sweeps through me. It’s high tide and the wave crashes down on me and pulls me out to sea. The dock is across theriver.

Water rushes past me faster, picking up more speed by the minute. I decided swimming across was out of the question minutes ago. But theredoesn’t seem to be any other way. Narrowing my eyes, I skim up and down the banks of the river, stopping when I see a line of rocks leading to theother side.

Running toward the boulders sticking out of the water, hope flourishes through me. But I have to be careful. The moldy colored water spraysagainst the rocks, dampening them and making them slick. This river separates me from the living and the dead. This river separates me from mymom. This river is a cataclysmic barrier of destruction and I don’t care what it takes; I have to make it across it. Even if I have to crawl all the way.

Carefully, I place a foot on the first rock. The large stone is round and the surface is flat so it’s an easy first step. The second rock is slightlysmaller and the tip comes to a bit of a point, so I hop quickly from the second rock to the third. I repeat the same process until I come to the seventhand final rock.

First off, the rock is an odd shape with three prong-like portions. Two that stick out horizontally and one that sticks up vertically. This rockreminds me of half of a star, the other half is submerged under water. There is a gap in between the horizontal prongs, but it’s not like the surface issmooth. No, the surface is full of bumps and as the river plows into it, another layer of moisture slaps down on top of it. Only a foot, maybe two at themost separates me from the opposite side of the river. So I place one foot on the rock in the right spot then slowly place the other one in the leftspot. Just when I think I’m going to make it across, a repetitive plunking noise distracts me and my sends my right foot jetting forward an inch. Mylimbs flail and I arch my back. Oh no! I’m going to fall.

Out of nowhere, as if pair of hands are on my back I’m shoved forward and my knees pound into the gray river bank. Uneasy, I glance over myshoulder to see who or what just pushed me, but there’s nothing. No one. Nothing but gray skies, rushing water and slippery stepping stones. Theplunking noise I’d heard a second earlier grows louder and in the distance I see the bow of a wooden ship.

The rickety wooden oars twirl around and move through the water and the ship almost sails past the wooden dock. On my feet I rush over to thedock, skidding to a stop at the edge. A rope ladder unwinds down the side of the ship. I watch intensely as a grisly man climbs down and hops offonto the dock.

“Sir,” I say, slinking closer.

He lifts his head, squinting an eye at me. “Eh?”

“Is your name Charon?”

He keeps himself at least a foot away from me, eyeing me curiously. Then reaching up, he removes a fitted black hat from his head. Wisps ofwhite hair stand up as he scratches a bald-spot consuming half of his head. “Who’s asking?” he inquires in a grizzly voice.

“You’re the ferryman, right?”

He nods and places the hat back on his head. “I am.”

I lurch closer to him. “Can you take me back to the land of the living? I’ve been brought here by mistake.”

He holds out his hand to me. I stare at the crinkled palm full of callouses for a second confused, then shrug and slap it.

“What was that for?” he rasps.

“Weren’t you welcoming me? On earth slapping hands is like a welcome gesture.”

“Well, down here it means pay me or go away.” He turns to walk away.

“Pay you? For what?”

“The ferry ride. You got a danake?”

I scrunch my eyebrows together. “A danake?” Danakes don’t exist anymore. They were the form of currency in Ancient Greece. I find it odd thatHades is up to date technology-wise, but his ferryman is still requesting extinct currency as a form of payment.

“Well, any kind of coin will do,” he tells me.

Frantically, I fumble through my pockets hoping that I have some spare change on me. I turn my empty jean pocket inside out. “I don’t have anymoney.”

“No money, no ferry ride,” he says gruffly as he walks down the dock.

“Can’t you make an exception?” I plead. “I came all this way!” And was chased by spirits and almost fell into a river of death.

“No money! No ride!”

“Unfortunately for you, Charon is a very greedy man.” The voice of a third man rings out.

I whip around and face Hades. I frown, disgusted and sneer, “What are you doing here?”

“Well, first I saved your life when you almost fell into the Styx. It’s not very smart to play on rocks in the river. You never know when you might slipand fall.”

My jaw drops. “That was you!”

He nods. “And it’s a good thing I went searching for my queen after I discovered she wasn’t in her room.”

“Let’s get one thing straight, Hades,” I say harshly. “I’m not now, nor will I ever be your queen.”

He scans me up and down with his vibrant blue-green eyes, a playful look on his face. “We’ll see about that.” Then he breaks his focus on meand shifts to the right, stepping closer to Charon. “How many souls today, ferryman?” he inquires.

Charon drops his head shamefully. “Only twelve.”

“Twelve?” I don’t think I’ve ever heard Hades voice go up that high and I bite back a giggle at the sound of it. I swear he almost squeaked.

“Yes,” Charon replies. “But the day has only just begun.”

The two of them engage in heated debate. I take that as my cue to exit, slowly creeping away from them. Then when Hades starts shouting, Itake off running down the dock and as far away from it as I can get before he realizes I’m gone. But it doesn’t take him long.

Seconds after I take off he appears in front of me and I almost smack into him. “Argh,” I growl. “Stop doing that!”

“Stop running away,” he says calmly.

I step to my right then to my left, but he keeps up with me. When I move he moves. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“Away from you!”

“How many times do we have to go over this,” he groans, frustrated. “You’re not going anywhere.” The frustration in his voice hardens to stonecold absolution.

“Watch me.” I charge ahead, shoving into him as hard as I can. He falls back, but disappears before he hits the ground. And I’m still running. I’mfree. Or maybe not. I’m running, but I’m not going anywhere. I’m still in the same spot.

Looking over my shoulder, I see Hades with a devilish grin clutching the bottom of the shirt. “You know,” he retorts. “I always knew you’d bedifficult, but I don’t think I was prepared for this.”

“If I’m so difficult, why don’t you just let me go and save yourself the hassle?”

He spins me around by the tail of my shirt and grips onto my shoulders. His eyes sear into mine. “I don’t think so. I like the defiant part of you.”

I mentally curse the tiny sliver of defiance that is wrapped up somewhere inside of me. Without it, then I wouldn’t be here with him—Hades. Thedevil without a disguise. A dark, cold, and drab version of what a queen might want in a king. Some other future queen. Not me.

Hades lets go of my shirt and I brush past him trudging farther down the banks of the Styx. After I make it a few feet, he materializes next to mekeeping up with me stride for stride. “All right,” he says coolly. “Enough of this. We are going back.”

I raise an eyebrow. “To earth?”

“No.” There’s a baffled tone in his deep, gruff voice. “Why would we go back there?”

“I don’t know. Maybe I thought there was some decency inside of you somewhere.”

“I promise you, there isn’t.”

“Then I’m not going anywhere with you. I’ll find my own way back home.” I walk faster, kicking up gray sand as I break into a jog.

Hades isn’t next to me anymore. He’s behind me. And as I get farther away, I hear him shout, “You won’t last an hour out here by yourself! Thereare regions of the underworld that would make even the most fearless heroes wet their pants!”

“I’ll take my chances!”

A second ago he was right behind me. Now he’s inches in front of me. “Yeah, I don’t think so.”

Before I can react, he lunges for me, scooping me up into his arms like a Pelican carrying a mouth full of water and fish. I feel like he’s going toswallow me. At any second I’ll be swimming through the enzymes in his stomach amongst catfish guts. I’m inside his body like food that doesn’tagree with him. Spit me out already! I want to be regurgitated. I slam my fists into a wall of hard abs. “Let go of me!”

“Oh is that what you want? You want me to let go of you?” He mocks me with a condescending tone. “I’m only here to serve you my queen.”

He releases me and I stumble forward, prepared to eat a mouthful of gray sand, but instead, I ram into the frame of my bed. “What?” I whirlaround, confused. I’m back in my bedroom.

Hades leans, propped up against my doorframe. “Welcome back.” I start toward him and he spreads his arms out blocking me in. “Now, whenyou can learn not to venture off on your own or plan any more secretive escapes, I’ll consider leaving your door unlocked, but until then—”

“Don’t you dare!” I interrupt.

A moment later Hades vanishes and my door slams shut. The lock clicks like a gun after it has been cocked. I hurl my body into the thick woodand pound on it. “Open this door!” I jiggle the brass knob and it barely moves. “Hades! You let me out! You can’t keep me locked up like someprisoner!”

“But you’re not a prisoner at all.” His voice is slightly muffled as it wafts through the solid oak. “You’re the Queen of the Dead. And the last thing Iwant is something bad happening to you because you let your curiosity get the best of you. No pun intended.”

I don’t care what he says. I still feel like a prisoner. He might as well have shackled me to my bed. “Hades!” I kick the door. “Let me out!”

No answer.

I kick the door again. “Damn it! Let me out of here!”

Still no answer.

Fury mounts inside of me like Old Faithful. I’m a geyser full of hot water and steam and I’m about to blow. I storm over to my bed and plant myface into the one of the soft pillows and scream. I scream for seconds. Minutes. If I scream any longer I’m certain I’ll make it to the hour mark. Ballingup my fists I beat my pillows like I’m heavyweight boxer. I’m the world champion with my gold encrusted belt hanging over my shoulder. Even thoughmy pillow is a lowly underdog, clearly incapable of a victory, I feel better after releasing some of my pent up anger on it.

Rolling over, I let out all the air I’d been holding in. I’m calm. I’m calm, a serene river with flecks of sunlight dancing along my surface. Coldnesssurges through me and the heat in my cheeks freezes over. What I’ve realized is that I need to go about this in a different way. What if instead offighting Hades I start cooperating? I bolt upright as the plot in my head unravels. That’s it! I will pretend to be obedient. Then when he least expectsit…Bam! I’ll make my escape.

All I have to do is make it through tomorrow. If I can do that, then I’ll be home free. But in a world like this one, you never know what it will have instore for you. Who knows what the next day will bring? And Hades never drops his guard. I guess when you command the dead it’s always best tosleep with one eye open and I guess that that means I should too.

Persephone

A moist, sticky residue drips onto my face. I swat at my cheek, roll over, and wipe the moisture onto my pillow. But that doesn’t help. Now I’mlying in wetness and it makes me uncomfortable. More fluid drips down onto my opposite cheek and every time I wipe it away more magicallyappears.

Has Hades sent someone in here to wash my face? Does he have servants? Besides Charon I hadn’t seen another actual person. And if hedid send someone in here to aid me, couldn’t they wait until I wake up? I haven’t even opened my eyes yet.

I lift my hand and fling it at an invisible person. “Stop it!” Turning my head, I create an even bigger wet spot on my pillow. Where is all thewetness coming from? My eyelids flutter and open. Dangling next to me is a giant glob of slobber. Clear and thick and its seconds away from fallingonto my face. I scoot over and follow the drool with my eyes to its source.

My eyes bug out and I suck a large gulp of air, holding my breath. There is a large beast in my bed. With a shiny coat of short black fur so shinyit seems like it’s been greased up with a can of Pam. Three massive heads loom above me. And the beast’s beady black eyes slit at me. Don’tmove I tell myself and my spine stiffens. I’ve seen and read stories about animal attacks where you’re supposed to be completely still. A person isalso supposed to seem fearless because the attacking animal can sense the fear inside of you. And by the way this beast-like animal is eyeing me;I know it can tell I’m petrified.

The beast lowers its middle head, showing its long pointy teeth and lets out a low, menacing growl. More large sticky globs of drool hang downfrom its jowls, unfurling and breaking off like plaster in an abandoned building. I can feel my whole body shaking my bed. Like one of those vibratingmattresses in a cheap motel room. All I need is two more quarters and I’ll be able to move the dial from gentle massage to hyper speed.

Then it starts barking and I yelp, “Help me!”

Not even a second later my door flies open and Hades eyes the beast, his Aegean eyes narrowed. “Cerberus! Heel!” he commands.

I slide back slowly, fall off my bed, and scramble over to the corner cowering. “That thing has a name,” I gasp finally able to breathe.

“That thing is not a thing. He’s a unique type of dog, guardian, and he’s my pet.” The dog-beast hops off my bed, strolls over to Hades, andrubs his head against the top of Hades thigh. “Cerberus has been the most obedient servant and loyal companion for the last five thousand years.”He crouches down and roughly scratches all three heads. “Haven’t you boy?”

“Your pet?” I squawk. “That thing is a monstrosity and belongs in a freak-show. It shouldn’t be anyone’s pet.”

He stares into each set of the dog’s six black eyes. “You hear that Cerberus? The queen isn’t fond of you. But tell her, she’ll have plenty of timeto get to know you, won’t she?” Cerberus howls out and Hades stands up. “Okay, enough play-time.” He points out the open door. “Cerberus! Out!”And just like that, the beast drops its three heads, lets out a muffled whimper, and struts out my door.

I stand and place my hands on hips. “How did he get in my room?”

Hades vanishes from the doorway and reappears on my bed. “I came to check on you earlier to see if you were awake. I left the door open andwasn’t even gone for ten minutes and Cerberus must have come in then.”

“That dog is terrifying and revolting.”

“You will learn to love him. He can be quite the gentle giant once he gets used to you.”

“I will never learn to love that…that…thing!” I shudder and wipe my cheek again, hoping that the drool is gone.

Hades leans back on my bed, both of his arms behind his head and the short sleeves on his black t-shirt rise up revealing bulging muscles inhis forearms. “So,” he begins, “I was thinking you and I could come to some sort of arrangement.”

I walk closer. “What kind of arrangement?”

“You want to go back to earth, right?”

“Yes.” Last night I had divulged my own plan on how to get back to earth, but if his idea sounds better I am open for suggestions. “What do youhave in mind?”

“How about you give me five days? And if after those five days you feel nothing for me at all I will release you and you will be free to go back.”

“And this isn’t some sort of trick?”

“No it isn’t. I promise.”

“Five days, starting when? Today?”

He doesn’t verbalize his answer he only nods.

“But that’s not fair! I’ve already spent two whole days here!”

He shrugs. “That’s the deal. Take it or leave it.”

I stare at the floor. Black marble blurs in my eyes and tiny specs of glitter sparkle and the floor reminds me of the sky at night. At this point, hisoffer sounds tempting. Then I won’t have to navigate through this world alone in search of a way out. He’s handing me my freedom on a silver platterbecause I know there’s no way I could possible feel anything for him in five days. But could I go that long without eating? Starvation will not kill me soI’ll have to try. I lift my head and stare into his eyes. “I accept your offer,” I tell him. “I will remain here for five more days with you.”

“Good,” he says as he gets up and starts for the door.

“Wait!” I call. “Where are you going?”

He doesn’t give me a straight answer. “Wash up and change your clothes.”

He turns right outside my door and I follow him. “What?”

“I have something special planned for us,” he says. “Just do what I told you to.”

He is not my parent and I don’t like being told what to do. I’ve been told what to do for five thousand years and look where that got me, trappedin hell with him. So far, Hades has been pretty tolerant of my radical spontaneous behavior and I am at the point where I want to see just how far Ican push him. “Why?”

“Just do it.”

“But why?”

I rush around in front of him, planting my face directly in front of his. Why? Why? Why? Why? Why?”

He clenches his jaw and grits his teeth. “Persephone! Stop this nonsense now!”

One more time. “Why?” I pretty much always like to have the last word anyway.

He takes me by surprise when he whips around, clutches my arm and backs me up into the wall, his cheeks flushed and red, full of rage. “Areyou a child?” he growls.

For the first time since I’ve arrived here I fear him. A startled gasp gets stuck in my throat. His eyes pierce mine and slowly that fear melts awaylike ice when the seasons change from winter to spring. His clenched jaw relaxes and he’s breathing heavy, cheeks still flushed and the color inthem slowly fades from red to pink. Then I notice something else for the first time since my arrival. He’s beautiful, terrifyingly beautiful. He remindsme of a lion. A fierce and brutal predator, yet at the same time there’s a certain gracefulness and beauty in the way they pounce on their prey. Andhis outburst a second earlier made him even more beautiful to me.

He’s not soft, but isn’t that how a man or God is supposed to be? Fierce and warrior-like. Fearless. Hades isn’t used to company or havingsomeone question him. He’s spent an eternity alone. Answering to nothing and nobody. I’ve been brought here and I assume it’s going to be anadjustment for him to get used to having another person around. Even if it is for a short time.

I’m captivated. Lost. Staring at a spark of emotion in his radiant eyes. I can’t even speak as he stares down at me. There’s a magnetism in hiseyes like he’d rather spend all day gazing into my jade-green eyes than perform all of his tasks for the day. Then I see it. Him taking me wasn’t justabout loneliness or there being a thrill in chasing me for all this time. He feels something for me and I can tell he senses me catching on.

He lowers his gaze and backs away from me. His cold front back up. “I apologize for being forceful,” he says sincerely. “Just meet me in thedining hall in two hours.” And a second later he’s gone.

Me, I’m staring at the spot he’d just vanished from. I can’t bear to tear my gaze away from it. Almost like he’s still there and all I want to do iswatch him. An illusion of him is better than facing the reality of him not being here. I close my eyes and see his eyes, glowing turquoise orbs in themiddle of a dark room. So beautiful and so enchanting they can light up even the darkest of worlds. Opening my eyes, I look at the floor, blinkseveral times, and snap out of the trance I was in. What’s wrong with me? Has Hades cast some spell over me? Shaking my head I swallow myfeelings and walk into my room.

A long flowing dress the shade of crimson is already laid out on my bed. Who put that there? Lifting it up, I caress the tulle material between myfingertips and hold them the dress up to my body. My eyes dart around the room and zoom in on the floor length mirror in the left corner of the room.I waltz toward it and examine the red dress against my skin. The bodice is fitted at the top with a sweetheart neckline and the bottom flows out at

the waist.

I spin around and laugh. I haven’t had the opportunity to dress up like this in ages. Mom never let me go to any balls, parties, or school dances.I’d always liked to dress up and I always hated watching all the other girls my age that got to attend homecoming and prom. Their dresses all vibrantshades of pink, purple, and blue standing out in their yards having their pictures taken with their dates while we drove past them.

Lying the dress back down on my bed, I walk into my bathroom, desperate to Cerberuses slobber stains off of my cheeks. Turning on thewater, I dip my hands underneath the cool stream and splash the icy water onto my face as my roaming thoughts take over. Slowly I can feel mydislike and disgust for the dictator of the dead subsiding. Drying my face off with a soft violet hand towel I can feel a kinship growing inside of me. Itbegins as a small tingle in my heart and spreads like a drug addict who has just shot the substance into their veins. Soon, I’m tingling all over.

Mom was wrong about him. Wrong about Hades. I get the sense that there is more to him than he lets on. And there is more to him than momgave him credit for. He’s not all debauchery and manipulation. He’s just a God who has been misunderstood for thousands of years. But I’m still notsure if I’ll be able to like him in an emotional, longing kind of way. I mean I know I feel something, but whether that something is like or pity is what I’mnot sure of. Yet.

Demeter

Demeter paced back and forth in front of Zeus’s throne in the Hall of the Gods. White flurried marble flurried in her eyes like fresh fallen snowon a winter morning. She lowered her head, dropping her gaze. Thinking of the snow reminded her of her daughter. Persephone loved the winter.Mainly because of Christmas. During their time on the run, Demeter had allowed her child experience some of the indulgencies the mortals did.

Even though the spring was Persephone’s most favorite and cherished season. Demeter would never forget the way her eyes lit up atChristmastime. The decorations, the snow, Persephone had loved it all.

“Demeter!” Zeus called from the door.

She turned snapping out of her trance. “Did you find him?” the Goddess inquired.

Zeus nodded. “He’s on his way.”

“That was quick,” she commented.

“This whole plan has to unfold quickly. We don’t know how long Persephone will be able to hold out without eating.”

Demeter walked to the window and gazed out at what Greece had become in the last five thousand years. There was still a quaintness toAthens. The way the white square homes were clustered together into the sides of the hills. The vibrant blue color of the sea. Boats lined the docksas fisherman unloaded nets full of sea creatures. “I know my girl,” she said with confidence. “She’s smart.”

Zeus approached her and looked out the window over her shoulder. “But what if he has bewitched her? We all know what Hades is capable ofand what lengths he’ll go to, to get what he wants.”

“That’s why you summoned the messenger isn’t it? He’ll be able to retrieve her regardless.” Zeus nodded and she sighed. “I think we shouldprepare ourselves though. I have this feeling that Hades isn’t going to let this go. There will be a fight.”

“Let him bring it,” said Zeus. “If he wants a fight, he will get one and I promise you it is a fight he’ll lose.”

“I hope you’re right.” Demeter shifted in her spot and turned to face Zeus. “The last thing this world needs is another epic battle. We don’t wantanother war like the one involving the Titans. Hades is a fighter.”

Zeus placed his hands on her shoulders and met her gaze with an understanding look in his eyes. “That won’t happen. For one, the Kraken hasbeen dead for thousands of years. Two, I honestly doubt that Hades will make that big of a fuss over Persephone. He can have anyone he wants.Why put up that much of a fuss for one Goddess?”

“To prove a point,” Demeter whispered. “Because I’d kept her from him.”

“You need to swallow your doubts, Demi. I won’t let anything bad happen. And you know Hades has never been more powerful than me.”

She knew Zeus was right. After all it had been Zeus who freed them from Cronos. Part of Hades built up anger came from that. Demeter knewthat Hades thought Zeus had damned him to an eternity of misery, commanding the dead while Zeus basked in the glory of running everything. EvenPoseidon was better off being the God of the Sea.

Demeter broke away from Zeus and sat down on the marble steps in front of throne. Her eyes darted around the massive room, stopping for amoment as she took in each marble column. She’d missed her home. And it saddened her that no one lived here anymore. The only time the Godsused Mount Olympus was for meeting purposes.

Her attention averted to the far end of the room as Hera, Hestia, and Poseidon strutted toward them. Zeus had called a meeting into sessionwith five of the six originals without Hades knowledge. One; it was best that he be left out of it because he might react brashly. Two all five of theirvotes would override Hades sixth so there was nothing the God of the Dead could do anyway.

There were twelve Gods and Goddesses in total that attended most meetings, but for secretive meetings like this one the others weren’tneeded. The original immortals made all of the final decisions no matter what the other’s votes were. After all, they were created or offspring of theoriginals themselves.

Hera extended her arms to Demeter and helped her up. She stared at her lovingly and smoothed back a piece of Demeter’s hair. “How areyou holding up?” she asked, her eyes full of concern.

Demeter exhaled. “As well as I can, I guess.”

Hera leaned and kissed her on the cheek before taking a seat on her throne. “We’ll get her back.”

A half smile curled on Demeter’s lips. “I know.”

Minutes later all of the originals were seated on their thrones while Zeus stood in front of his pacing. He stopped mid-pace, staring at a demi-god on the opposite side of the room. “Send in the messenger!” he boomed.

The Demi-God disappeared through the opening and seconds later a tall, lean muscled man with ash-blonde hair strolled toward Zeus. “Yousummoned me?” he questioned.

“Yes,” said Zeus. “Thank you for coming Hermes. We have a mission for you.”

Persephone

After I’ve put on my new dress and thrown my hair up into a high bun, I walk into my bedroom to see a plain black box in the same spot wheremy dress was. Opening it in a flash, I marvel at the crimson heels with ruby studs on the sides. I hold them up against the fitted dress that hugs everycurve and cranny of my body. The heels are a perfect match.

I slip them on and glide toward the floor-length mirror. The red color against my skin brings out a pink hue in my cheeks and my green eyeslook even greener.

“You look breathtakingly beautiful,” Hades calls from the door.

I glimpse over my shoulder at a dashing version of death. Dressed from head to in black of course, but he’s added a sliver or red to hisensemble with a crimson tie. His shaggy hair is styled messy, slicked and spiked out in various ways and he smells rustic a mixture of wood,aftershave, and mint. He grins, circling me, and stops inches in front of me, extending an arm. “Shall we?”

I beam exuberantly filled with excitement. “Are we going somewhere?”

“I’ll tell you on the way.” Then I take his arm as he guides me out into the hall.

For the first half the walk neither one of us speaks. The only audible sound is my crimson heels clacking against the marble floor. But rightbefore Hades guides me into the dining hall, he takes both of my hands in his and we face each other.

“Even on off years when I wasn’t able to come to you, I’ve been watching you,” he says. “I remember one time in particular where you’d beensitting on your porch staring longingly at a group of teens across the street from you as they prepared for a dance mortal teenagers attend.”

“Mom never let me go to any mortal functions,” I say softly.

“I’ve never been to one either,” he tells me. “So I thought you’d enjoy it if we could go to one together.” He steps away from me and yanks openthe doors to the dining hall and I gasp out in awe as my mouth gapes open.

Slowly, I slide forward, eyes stifling a look around the gigantic room. The massive dining hall has been transformed into a high schoolgymnasium with a glittering disco ball spinning from the ceiling. A cleared spot that serves as a dance floor. A full band on a platform performing aslow ballad. Tiny lights dangle from spots in the ceiling, twinkling. There are several circular tables placed in various sections of the room and eachtable has a red tablecloth. In the center of the table are matching centerpieces complete with red roses, black roses, and silver tinsel.

Emotion surges through me like a spark of electricity. I’m a loose wire snapping into the air, shooting white volts. Turning, I lock eyes with mycaptor. “You did all of this for me?”

A small sincere smile crosses his lips. “Of course I did. All I’ve ever wanted is for you to be happy here. All I’ve ever wanted is for you to behappy with me. I don’t think you understand that I never had any intentions of keeping you here against your will. What I want more than anything isfor you stay because you want to.”

I open my mouth to speak, but he cuts me off. “Let me finish.” He walks closer and takes my hands, gently massaging my skin with his thumbs.Warmth drifts up my arms and sears through my insides before it takes up residence in my cheeks. “I will never hurt you and as long as you’re withme you can have anything your heart desires. You don’t even have to say what is. Just think it and it will be yours.”

“You shouldn’t have done this.” I stutter, “It’s…It’s…”

He scrunches his bold, black eyebrows. “You don’t like it?” He pulls out of my grasp. “It’s fine if you don’t like it, I’ll have everything taken down.We can do something else.”

Hades raises his hand and I rush over to him lacing my fingers through his. “No. That’s not what I meant.” I swallow hard and stare at ourinterlocked hands. “I meant that you shouldn’t have gone out of your way. I do like this. I love this. The decorations, the band, everything. I’ve alwayswanted to go to the mortals’ prom.”

“Oh.” Hades flashes me a brilliant smile and I think it’s the first time I’ve ever seen him fully smile since I’ve been here. And his perfect, whitesmile takes my breath away. “Would you like to sit then?” I nod and he raises the opposite hand and two chairs magically slide back from the table.He helps me into my seat and then sits down next to me. “Are you hungry?” He claps his hands and a magnificent feast materializes before myeyes. Turkey. Mashed potatoes. And all the trimmings. A lot like what the humans eat on Thanksgiving.

A painful howl ripples through my abdomen. I’m starving and I can’t even recall the last full meal I ate. But mom’s voice bounces off the walls ofmy brain like a pinball in a machine. “You cannot eat in the realm of the dead.”

My eyes center on sweet rolls in the middle of the table dripping with hot butter. I fight off the urge to stuff one into my mouth. “No,” I say weakly.“I’m not hungry.”

Hades fills his plate and stares at the empty one in front of me. “If you eat this, you won’t be bound here. You have my word.”

Even though he says I won’t be bound to this realm, I still feel uneasy about eating. I still feel uneasy about him in general. Sometimes hemakes me feel the way Adonis used to. Like a school girl with a crush. I smile when I think of Adonis. This is the first time I’d thought about himsince I was pulled under. I wonder what he’s doing now. I wonder if he showed up the next morning after my party to walk me to school.

But there are other times where I feel like Hades is putting on the best play of his long life. I can’t decide whether he’s being sincere all of thetime or only some of the time and that keeps me questioning on whether I’ll stay or not. So for now, I think its best that I don’t jump into a situationwith him that I don’t trust. “I’m really not hungry,” I tell him. “Go ahead and enjoy your food.”

Another reason I don’t eat is because despite what he says, I can’t help but feel like a tiny morsel of this meal will separate me from my momforever. And I miss her so much as it is.

I watch Hades intensely as he eats and he doesn’t eat how I expect a person of his age to eat. I guess I had this vision of him inhaling the food,cramming as much food into his mouth as possible with his hands, eager to ease the hunger inside of him. But doesn’t eat like a savage. He eatsmannerly and he chews all of the muscles in his jaw tighten and flex.

For a second I forget that I’m gawking at him until he catches me. And suddenly, I’m embarrassed and upset because I feel like I could stare athim for hours and never want to look away. Lowering his fork, he picks up a black napkin and wipes the corners of his mouth. “Is something wrong?”he asks a worried look on his face.

“No.”

“Do I frighten you?” He seems like he wants me to be afraid of him. Maybe that’s because he’s used to it. Most people fear the reaper.Unfortunately for him, I’m not most people.

“No,” I answer quickly. “But you could smile more often. You’re beautiful when you smile.” I catch myself after the last comment and clamp myjaw shut. I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t want to give false hope in case I do decide to leave, but I can’t help but feel more attached to him withevery second we spend together.

Inside I’m a Picasso painting. Scattered, deformed, and messy. Bright colors splashed here and there. More than anything I’m flustered and Iknow that I’m blushing. An unsettling silence swirls around us. He smirks, studying my face. I stare back at him, trying to think of words to break thequiet, but I can’t think of anything. His radiant, wandering eyes rip my tongue out. I’m mute. I wish I knew sign language.

Hades starts to crack. He’s a tremor, rippling across the ground, a miniscule fracture spreading vastly, tearing up the soil. Then his mouthopens and the fracture widens. His mouth is a crater and he smiles wide and laughs. A deep booming laugh. A harmonious laugh that rings out andmakes me laugh in return. He extends his hand. “Come on.”

I take his hand and we rise from our chairs. “What are we doing now?” I ask. Every time he makes a gesture I feel like he has another surprisein store for me.

“I thought you might like to dance,” he muses.

I laugh. “You’re right. I would.”

In a flash, he vanishes and appears behind me, his warm hands resting against my bare shoulders. His lips are inch away from my earlobe.“Will you dance with me then,” he whispers. And his whisper blows up inside of my head like a monsoon sound system. He voice trickles from myhead into my throat before resting in my heart cavity.

“I will,” I say as his hands slide down my back and rest on my waist. He spins me around to face him and I close my eyes for a moment andwhen I open them we’re in the middle of the dance floor swaying back and forth as the band plays another ballad.

Lights flicker and dance across his face, highlighting his high cheekbones as he pulls me closer, enveloping me in his arms. “I didn’t thinkyou’d be a good dancer,” I joke.

“Are you kidding? I’m an excellent dancer, but I will say I’ve done a lot of improving in the last five thousand years,” he says, dipping mebackwards.

“Well, then you’ll have to forgive me if I step on your toes,” I reply as he pulls me back up. “I’m afraid I don’t have that much experience.”

He laughs. “You can step on my toes anytime you want.” I smile and rest my head against his shoulder as he wraps his arms around me tighter.I even feel him plant a soft kiss on the top of my head. But I don’t care. This moment is too perfect to interrupt.

I never thought that I’d be in an elaborately decorated ballroom, at my own prom dancing with death himself. And I never thought that I’d actuallybe falling for him.

Hades

At the end of the night Hades escorted Persephone back to her room, said goodnight, and retired to his own room. But he didn’t intend onactually staying in his room. He waited until he was certain Persephone was sleeping and walked back to her room.

Hades stood outside of her doorway watching her sleep. Her soft breathing filled the room melodically and it reminded him of a musicianplucking the strings on a harp and the soft look on her face reminded him of peace.

Today had gone exactly as he planned. Actually it had gone better than he planned. He was pleased that he was able to pull it off. He knew hehad never been the romantic type, but slowly when it came to Persephone he realized that anything was possible.

She was the light to his darkness. The compassion to his rage. The key to his heart. Point blank, Persephone was everything to him.

The moment he first saw her ages ago he knew he was attracted to her, but that attraction had blossomed into something true and beautiful.Something he’d wanted his whole life. Love.

Uncertainty throbbed inside of him as he walked down the hall away from her room. Did she feel the same way about him? He couldn’t becertain and that plagued the mighty God.

There were moments earlier in the evening where he’d thought she was looking at him with love or adoration. He thought. There was nocertainty because Hades didn’t know anything about love. He couldn’t only base his opinions on the way he felt in his gut. And the way he felt in hisgut was that maybe just maybe Persephone felt more for him than she was prepared to admit. Maybe just maybe she loved him in return.

Persephone

I set out on a mission the next morning. Back to the control room I’d found when I’d first arrived. A vision of mom came to me in my dreams andI had this urge to see her consuming me since I’d woken up. Part of me hopes that she’s feeling better, even though I know that’s probably not thecase. I think seeing her upset will put me back in my place because ever since last night I can’t get over Hades and how I might not want to leavehim.

Repeating all the steps I had followed a few days earlier, I smile at the sight of mom who is standing in front of a window. She looks better,healthier. The color is back in her cheeks and her face looks fuller, like she’s been eating. She’s even wearing a tiny smile. The sight of her smilemakes me smile.

As I focus more intensely on her face I notice something, she’s not at home. Wherever she is the walls are bright, too bright, almost blinding ina way. I can’t make out any more of the room she’s in. Where is she?

Suddenly, lights in the room come on and mom’s picture cuts out. I twist around and Hades stands behind me, his arms crossed, his backagainst the control panel. “What are you doing?” he questions.

I exhale and my chest sinks. “Please don’t be mad. I had to see her. I had to see my mom.”

“I’m not mad,” he says calmly. “How did you know you’d be able to see her in this room?”

I explain to him how I’d stumbled across this room when I’d first arrived and was curious about it so I explored and was able to see mom afterI’d first been taken.

He nods in an understanding way and sighs, “I could have done better if you would have asked.”

I inch closer to him. “What do you mean you could have done better?”

“I could have taken you to see her. In the flesh.”

“What? How?”

“You know I’m able to make myself and anyone else with me invisible.”

“Oh. I forgot about that.” Then I snort, trying to keep the laugh that’s stuck in my esophagus from coming up.

Hades tilts his head to the side and narrows his eyes. “What’s so funny?”

“I just thought you’d be angrier.”

He smirks. “At this?” He shakes his head. “You sneaking in to the control room is nothing that would make me mad. Besides, you haven’t evenseen my real temper. And that’s something I hope you’ll never have to see.”

Vivid flashbacks of our moment in the hall resurface. If that wasn’t real temper, then he’s right, I don’t want see it.

We walk down the hall and arrive at the front doors to the palace. Hades yanks open one of the large cast iron doors. “Well how is she?”

“Who?” I ask, puzzled. “My mom?”

He nods.

“She looks much better.”

“Good. Then we can get going without you being distracted.”

I smile, excited that he has another surprise in store for me. “Where are we going?”

“Now I’m sure you know I’m not going to tell you.”

The vast wasteland of the underworld lies in front of me and sucks all the joy out of me. It makes me feel like the Grinch minus Christmas. All Ineed is a village full of tiny people with sloped button noses and oblong hairstyles to terrorize. Stay or go. Stay or go. If I stay down here with HadesI’ll consumed by an eternity of dull, drab grey skies, thick smog, and sadness. There is nothing happy or joyous about death. It may put an end to aperson’s suffering especially if they have a fatal disease, but what if they didn’t lead a good life? They’d suffer during their life and they’d suffer

forever after they died. And what if I have to aid Hades in giving them their final judgment? I’m not sure if I can handle that.

There is still a part of me that wants to stay. I glimpse at Hades next to me and a small smile curls on his plush lips. My insides crack and fizzlelike I’ve just swallowed a mouthful of pop rocks. The affection I feel for him grows as each day passes and he’s the only reason I’d consider staying.And I don’t know if that’s a good enough reason.

“Come here,” he says softly.

I creep closer like a starfish on a sandy beach being lured back into the ocean by the tide. Hades is the water and as soon as he touches memy tentacles will come alive. I want to be suctioned to him, to latch on to him as long as I have to. He pulls me close and I inhale his musky scent. Asmell that I hope I’ll never forget; whether I stay or go. He covers me with his arms. I feel warm. He’s my down comforter. He’ll never let me freeze.“Close your eyes,” he tells me.

Time whirls around us. We’re in the middle of a cyclone. Spinning in circles and despite the dangerous situation I know I’ll be safe. He willalways keep me safe. He clutches me tighter to his chest, the muscles in his arms clench and for a brief moment I feel like I belong here. Wrappedup in a tangle of his limbs for all of eternity.

Then he releases me and part of me aches. I ache in spots where his fingers just were. The spots throb like fresh bruises and won’t quit until heputs pressure on them. Rushing water whooshes and fills my ears and I spin around thinking he might have brought me to a beach or something.Depression sails through me like a Jet Ski bouncing around on waves when I realize we’re back at the dock on the Styx.

The brownish green water splashes against the dock and I center on fog that hovers above the water. Hades senses that I might be upset andbrushes his fingers against my face. “You look upset,” he says in a voice full of gentleness. “Is something bothering you?”

I can’t understand why his touch feels cold yet warm at the same time. “Is it always so bleak and depressing down here?”

“You get used to it.”

I feel like I’m glancing at plains of misery, an up close and personal version of what death is supposed to look like. “I don’t think I could ever getused to this,” I say. “I’d miss the sunshine too much. I’d miss watching things live.”

Hades drops his hand from my face. “Just wait,” he comments. “There is so much more of the underworld that you have yet to see.”

The ferry appears next to the dock and Charon hangs over the side. “Master,” he hisses. Hades takes one hand and Charon takes the other asthey help me onto the boat. My eyes dart across the rows of wooden benches until I center on the wooden bench in the back right corner of the boat.I sit down as Hades appears on the bench across from me. Then Charon begins working the oars as I stare off into the choppy waters of the river ofdeath.

Fifteen minutes into the ride and I can feel Hades eyes on me. He’s staring, a thoughtful look in his eye. “So why did we have to take the ferry?”I face him. “Couldn’t you have just whisked us there yourself?”

“Yes,” he says, still penetrating me with his gaze. “But then I don’t think the shock value will be as good.”

“Shock value?” He smiles and my heart picks up beating rapidly. “You know you should do that more often.”

“Do what?”

“Smile.” His smile is beautiful, clouds parting during a thunderstorm to reveal a sliver of sunshine.

He smiles wider. “I’ll try to.”

I look away bashfully as heat rises in my cheeks. I’m at a loss for words. Truthfully I just want to stare at him. I want to feel the tiny smolder I getin the pit of my stomach every time I look into his eyes. Instead I play it off casually and nod toward Charon. “How come he knows where we’regoing?”

“He’s the captain of the boat. We wouldn’t be able to go anywhere if he didn’t know where we were going.”

“Oh.” I look down, feeling silly. Embarrassed I play with my fingers and apparently Hades thinks my attempt at being coy is funny because hestarts laughing.

I don’t think it’s funny. In fact his laughter makes me angry. I stand, wagging my finger, prepared to give him a piece of my mind when the boatrocks and I topple over, tumbling to the opposite side. Just when I think I’m about to go overboard and land in the murky waters, Hades catches me,clutching onto my waist tightly. I turn my head, awkwardly and my lips are centimeters away from his. Any slight movement and they’ll be touching.His eyes dart across my face, searching, studying my features. He’s trying to figure me out.

Bewildered, I steady myself sitting up, and try to make a joke, “Nice catch.”

As I turn to walk back to my bench he whispers something. The soft words are barely audible, but I’m pretty sure I made out what he said. Icould have sworn he said, “Come back.”

I pirouette and gawk at him. “What did you say?”

“Nothing.” I know he’s lying.

“No, I heard you. You said something.” He said, “Come back.” I am sure of it.

“I think you are hearing things. I didn’t say anything.”

I narrow my eyes trying to keep a straight face. I’m actually flattered that he wanted me to stay in his arms. Right now that’s the only place I wantto be. “You said something. I have excellent hearing, you know.”

He glances out into the waters of the Styx. “Perhaps you heard a soul whispering into your ear.”

I know all too well about the souls down here and their activities. “Maybe.”

A smile curls on my lips as I sit back down. Maybe he’s trying to seem aloof on purpose. That way if I do decide to go back to earth, he’ll beable to mask the amount of pain he’ll feel when I leave. If he feels anything for me at all. He said he did, but he could be lying about that too. Hadesis the ultimate illusionist; I know he’s a pro at masking his emotions.

He moves over, sitting down next to me. I jump, startled by his sudden arrival. “Sorry,” he says. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s fine. I just didn’t expect you to come over here.”

“Do you want me to move?”

“No,” I answer, lacing my arm through his. “Stay.” His skin is freezing, but I don’t move my arm. We’re a linked chain welded and meltedtogether. Not even a pair of needle nose pliers can tear us apart.

From the way he’s looking at me, I can tell he’s holding something back. He studies my face again, reaching out to graze his fingertips over mycheek, but at the same time the boat stops and that’s when I feel it. It travels down my neck and shoots through my skin like a piercing wail blastingthrough a person’s eardrums. I turn slowly, using my arm to shield my face as the brightness burns in my eyes. “Is that what I think it is?”

Hades nods. “Yes.”

It’s sunlight. I close my eyes and bask in the warmth. I think of the beach and spring and the smell of wildflowers and suddenly this place isn’t sodark and gloomy after all. “Why did you bring me here?”

“Because I knew how much you’d enjoy it.”

“Is that sunlight?” I squeal in delight.

“Yes, that’s sunlight. This is the only place in the realm of the dead where it shines,” he answers.

I don’t even bother to open my eyes. “What’s this place called?” My voice is full of curiosity and excitement.

Hades rests his chin on my shoulder. “This is the place where the truly good mortals and hero’s go after they leave earth. This place is calledThe Elysian Fields.”

I open my eyes, staring out into potentially one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever seen in all of my five thousand years living. I shoot up out ofmy seat, running toward the exit. I’ve spent enough time down here, drowning in darkness. It’s about time that I step out of the shadows and into thelight.

Persephone

An overwhelming sense of joy floods through me as I run my fingers over the long swaying grass in the Elysian Fields. Hades assured me thatthere was actually a city several miles away, but visiting the city would be a different trip for a different day.

The sunlight bleeds through my pores, spreading through my entire body. It’s like an infection I want to keep eternally. I turn, letting a gust ofwind tousle my hair as a light floral smell creeps up my nostrils. I inhale deeply as freesia and daffodils invade my nose and remind me of ameadow behind my house back in Oregon. The enticing scent—for some odd reason—reminds me of the day Hades took me.

Thinking of Hades has me wondering something; where is he? I haven’t seen him since he brought me here and I’m both hurt and angry that heisn’t here sharing this beautiful scene with me. Pivoting, I scan the field. He’s not even lingering off to the side somewhere watching me like heusually is. It’s like he’s vanished into thin air—another one of his annoying parlor tricks. I sprint through the field and call out for him, “Hades!” I pushaside plants, look under rocks, search behind a slew of the various trees, but can’t find him anywhere.

I run harder and faster, desperate to find him. When Hades first took me, I swore to the God’s that I would loathe him for the rest of my immortallife. But things have changed. My feelings for him have changed. Now I miss him when he’s not around. I want to be near him at all times. I’m finallyable to look past his cold demeanor and find warmth in him. His smile makes me want to smile. His icy touch makes me shiver in a good way and Iwant him to hold me, touch me, and kiss me. I want to be wrapped in his arms for the rest of eternity and that could only mean one thing: I think Imight be in love with him.

I know what he is; the pied piper of death and depravity, playing his flute as an army of the dead trails behind him. I’m in that army marching inline and I will follow him anywhere.

I’ve never been in love before, so I’m not one hundred percent sure how to classify the way I feel about Hades, but it has to be love. It just has tobe. The incessant longing, and fire smoldering inside of me like the crackling embers in a fireplace has to be love.

On the boat earlier, was the first time I recognized a growing adoration for him. Right after he caught me and saved me from falling over theedge. Gazing into his eyes, I knew that I couldn’t leave this underworld without him. I won’t leave this world without him.

Panic hits me like a marble column. I still can’t find him and he’s not answering me when I call out for him. I’ve been running for what feels likeyears and there is no sign of him. Tears swell in my eyes and a gaping hole burrows into my heart. The hole stretches and expands like a blackabyss and suddenly I feel like I can’t breathe. Why would he leave me out here all alone when he knew I’d enjoy it so much? Wouldn’t he want toshare this blissful experience with me? Looking over my shoulder, I pick up speed, charging forward and smack into what feels like a wall. I hit thewall hard and fall backward onto the ground.

A gentle breeze whips around me and the sunlight burns into my eyes, blinding me. For the first time ever, in my immortal life I loathe the sun. Iloathe it because I can’t see what I ran into. I squint as my eyes adjust to the light and a hand appears inches away from my face. Taking the hand, Ihoist myself to my feet and Hades stands in front of me, eyeing me oddly. He’s curious, but his look softens when he gazes into my eyes and anervous tingle flutters around in the pit of my stomach. My cheeks burn from the sun and from anxiety and I’m not sure how to speak to him.Somehow everything about him felt better when I was thinking and not acting on my feelings. It was also easier when I disliked him. Now all I can dois gawk. All I can do is stand here gazing at him adoringly like a lovesick fool.

All of a sudden a volt of anger snaps through my like a loose wire. Why do I always have to be the one who’s speaking her mind? I’m sick ofdoing all the talking. Why can’t he just open up to me? Why can’t he just tell me how he feels?

“You should watch where you’re going?” he says in a somber tone.

“I’m sorry for running into you,” I manage, trying to keep calm.

“It’s fine,” he booms. His voice is seductive, deep and beautiful. “What exactly were you doing?”

The comment makes me snap back to reality. “Excuse me?”

He cocks his head to the side. “Were you looking for something?”

Yes, you. That’s what I really want to say. Instead, I put on a bright smile and lie. “I was just enjoying the sunshine.”

I’m not sure if he can tell whether I was being truthful or not. Then a tiny smile spreads across his lips. “I’m glad you like it here.” He turnsabruptly and walks in the opposite direction.

Where is he going? An instant pain shoots through my heart. “Don’t leave,” I utter, softly. I don’t know if he heard me, but at this point I don’tcare.

He stops, his back still facing me, and peers casually over his shoulder. “Did you say something?”

“Yes. I said don’t leave.” I can’t lie anymore. I can’t pretend that I want to go back to earth when I care for him so much more than the sun in thesky, the flowers growing in fields and the smell of clean air. I step toward him and brush my fingers over his shoulder. “Why are you leaving?”

His reaction to my touch startles me. His entire body stiffens. Then he turns and faces me. “I just thought this would be something you’d like toenjoy alone. I know how much you miss the earth and the sun,” he tells me.

But he’s wrong. I’d much rather enjoy all of this with him. “Why don’t you stay out here and enjoy this with me?”

He remains in his spot and doesn’t move. Secretly, I wish he would have jumped at the opportunity to spend the day with me, but he’s doing theexact opposite and it hurts. His actions cut deep like a butcher knife through the shoulder blade. I touch him again and he jumps. He’s acting like mytouch repulses him and I don’t understand. He’s so hot and cold. One minute I think he feels the same way about me and the next he’s doing whathe’s doing now. “Why would you bring me out here if you didn’t want to share it with me?”

Now I am determined to get to the bottom of this. Why in the name of the God’s did he take me if he’s spurned by my touch? And what aboutyesterday? Yesterday was beautiful. Yesterday was perfect. How could he go from that to this? He doesn’t answer my question. I stare at him,crossing my arms. “Well?”

He still doesn’t answer.

He’s obviously distracted. He’s somewhere else and from the look in his eye I can tell he wants to be anywhere, but here—with me. I can feelthe tears welling in my eyes, but I suck them back and lower my voice. “Give me an answer.”

He gives me a vague answer. “I thought you would enjoy it.” He’s not even looking at me. He’s staring past me at the swaying grass in the openfield.

A mixture of emotions swirl around inside of me and I know it’s only a matter of time before anger becomes the front-runner. I don’t want to behere anymore. The home-like feeling has vanished. The want of feeling the sun against my skin has vanished. I need to get out of here before thisturns into a screaming match and I say thing I know I’ll regret. “Take me back.”

“I thought you were enjoying yourself?” he asks as a confused expression stretches over his face.

“I was enjoying myself. Now I want to go back,” I answer him with force. Then I storm past him, marching to the boat. There’s a part of me thatwants to run back to him. A part of me that wants to crash into his arms and tell him everything I’m feeling. But I don’t because I’m nervous andfrightened and I can’t help but feel like I’m swimming in uncharted waters.

Ever since we fled Greece I’d always felt like I’d lead a loveless life. I couldn’t date the mortals and no Olympians appealed to me. Adonis isonly the tenth boy I’ve ever had a crush on in all my years of living. I have no idea what to do, say, or how to act when it comes to a relationship. Tome, love is as terrifying and mysterious as the murky waters of the Styx.

Also, I’ve never been around a couple who is actually in love. My parents had never been together, so I’ve never seen them show affectiontoward each other. I have absolutely nothing to go off of. I am running blind.

I once heard someone say that love comes naturally. Well if it comes so naturally, why is Hades making it so damn difficult? Perhaps he hasn’tbeen in love either. I laugh out loud at my ridiculous assumption. Of course he has been in love what am I thinking? He has to have been. He’s aGod; he can have any woman he wants. I imagine that through the centuries he’s had many lovers or relationships. After thinking about that I goback to the same question I’ve asked myself at least a dozen times. Why does he want me, then? I know he wants me to be his companion, rulingthe realm of the dead alongside him. But for some odd reason I don’t think he’d chase me for all this time if that was his only purpose. Hadesdoesn’t strike me as the type of God who has an unintended purpose for doing something.

After going over my theories I know the only way I’m going to get any real answers is if I ask him directly. So I stop and turn around only todiscover that he’s not behind me. He’s vanished again. It shouldn’t shock me that he’s evaporated into thin air for what feels like the millionth time.But it does. It seems to me that he always chooses the worst times to disappear.

During that second, I find myself feeling empty. My eyes sweep over the abandoned field as tears spill onto my cheeks. Why is he doing this tome? That’s the only thing going through my mind. I think about throwing myself onto the ground and letting every tear that I ever cried pour out of me.But as I suck back my tears and turn on my heel, I see him, standing directly in front of me, blocking my path. I quickly wipe my tears away before hecan notice, but I’m too late.

He gazes at me, a flicker of concern in his eyes. “Is something wrong?”

He’s always asking me that; is something wrong? Yes! You! You’re what’s wrong!

Rage replaces the hurt and pain and I feel like a wild stallion. I am unglued—unhinged—and nothing or no one can keep me from breakingfree. And I feel crazy too. The rage inside of me is making me crazy. “What’s wrong with you?” I snap. “Why do you keep doing that?” I walk towardhim and ram my finger into his chest. “Why are you playing games with me? I told you, I hate games!”

A look of complete shock spreads across Hades calm, collected face. But he doesn’t move. “Doing what? What is wrong with you? I am not

playing games.”

“You’re always appearing and reappearing! Always hot and cold! And you’re moody, too!”

He raises an eyebrow. “Moody?” He looks around me, staring at the ferry. “You make it sound like I’m a woman.”

“And what’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing if you are one.”

I slant my eyes, folding my arms across my chest. I’m fed up with his antics and the only thing I can think about is getting away from him. I brushpast him and bump into his shoulder, making my way back to the ferry. Part of me is tempted to say one last thing, but when I turn and open mymouth my chest sinks. He’s gone.

Charon helps me onto the ferry and I take the same seat in the back that I took on the way to the Elysian Fields. Exhaling, I glance out into themurky waters as the plunking from the wooden oars slapping against the water infiltrates me ears. The sound soothes me and smothers the angerinside of me. I stare at Charon’s back. “Where did he go?”

“Master had duties to attend to,” he replies with a raspy drawl.

Figures. His duties come first. That’s how it will always be and I don’t know if I can handle that. I don’t know if I’ll be able to play second fiddle tohis realm. I know it sounds selfish, but I want someone who has the time to spend with me. Someone who will lie with me underneath the stars andtalk with me about anything and everything. I want us to be able to spend eternity devoted to each other.

And that’s something Hades and I will never be able to do.

A tear trickles down my cheek and I feel part of my love for Hades slide down my cheek with the tear. Then I begin sobbing, sobbing so hard anache ripples through my ribcage and I have to stop and catch my breath. If loving someone else makes you feel like this all the time I’m not sure ifit’s something I want. I’ve never felt more confused or hopeless in my entire life. Is this what my future has in store for me? Am I destined to spendeternity with a cold God who covets me, but doesn’t love me back? My sobbing escalates and I’m crying so hard I have to lean over the side of theferry. There’s nothing in my stomach, but I throw up anyway, yellow bile and a clear liquid that tastes like sulfur.

“Are you okay, miss?” Charon shouts.

My voice trembles and I swallow the acidy after-taste. “Fine.”

Right now, the only person I want or need is my mom. She’d know exactly what to say to make feel better. But she’s not here and who knowswhere she is.

Demeter

Demeter strolled along a sandy beach, kicking up sand and reminiscing about the summers she’d take Persephone to this very spot as achild. The memory of Persephone as a cherub-cheeked toddler, waddling through crystal blue waves panged her heart and she had to clutch herchest to keep the pain at bay.

“Come back!”

Demeter perked up at the sound of a female voice and glanced down as a child hobbled toward her, legs chubby, steps wobbly.

The mother ran after the child who was heading toward the ocean and Demeter intervened, sweeping the child up in her arms before he couldmake it to the water. “And where did you think you were going?” Demeter cooed as the child let out an infantile giggle.

The mother reached them, winded and held her hands out, reaching for her son. “Thank you so much,” she said in between breaths. “I onlyturned my back for a second.

Demeter handed the child over with a smile, but as soon as she did, she felt her sadness return. Not only was she the Goddess of the Harvest,but she was the Goddess of Fertility as well, so she had a soft spot for mothers and their children. “No problem.” The mother patted her child’s backand kissed his cheeks. “All it takes is a second, though.” That comment reminded her of the day her daughter was taken. She’d only dropped herguard for a second and she was gone.

“I know,” said the woman. “What’s your name? I’d like to thank you properly.”

“Demi.” That’s the name Demeter gave to the mortals on most occasions.

The mother extended her hand. “Metaneira. Mettie for short.” Demeter took her hand and shook it. “Thank you Demeter,” said Mettie. “Fromthe bottom of my heart.”

“Anytime,” Demeter replied and watched Mettie and the child as they walked farther down the beach.

Later on, Demeter sat on a jagged rock, watching as the crystalline aqua waves of the Aegean crashed into the dusky sand. She closed hereyes and exhaled, swearing she could hear Persephone’s laugh echoing on the wind. It was an illusion of course, but Demeter swore that eventhough she and her child were apart that there would always be a little piece of Persephone with her at all times.

A whooshing sound pulled Demeter from her thoughts and she opened her eyes abruptly. Just in time to notice an eagle, magnificent andmajestic soaring through the pale blue sky. The eagle nose-dived and curled up before slowly fluttering its wings and landing at her feet.

A smile tugged at her lips. “Hello, Zeus,” she said to the eagle.

A nano-second later the eagle transformed and Zeus stood before Demeter with his hands on his hips. “How did you know it was me?” heboomed with a smirk.

Demeter laughed. “Did you actually think I’d forget that an eagle is your transformation animal of choice?”

“No,” Zeus said with a chuckle and sat down next to Demeter. He placed his hand on her back and gently rubbed her shoulder blades. “Howare you doing?”

Demeter turned a cheek in each direction. She was being cautious. Hera had been known to follow Zeus to catch him in scandalous situations.When she realized they were in the clear Demeter sighed and said, “As good as I can be I guess. I’m just really nervous and worried.”

“What for?”

She looked Zeus in the eye and swore she could see the waves of the Aegean crashing in his navy blue eyes. “What if Hermes fails? What ifHades puts up a fight? I just have this bad feeling that something is going to go wrong.”

“What could possibly go wrong?”

“I don’t know. I think we both know that when it comes to Hades realm anything and everything is possible.

Zeus wrapped a massive arm around Demeter’s shoulder and hugged her close. “You need to trust me. I told you we’d get her back and wewill.” Demeter placed her head on Zeus’s shoulder. “Hermes has been in and out of the underworld millions of times through the centuries. He willretrieve her.”

“I know that,” Demeter said with a sigh.

“Then what are you so worried about?”

“Look,” she started, “We both know Hades and what he’s willing to go to get what he wants. I just think he’ll try something drastic and our planmight backfire.”

“And you think I didn’t know that?”

Demeter lifted her head slightly meeting Zeus’s gaze. “You have a back-up plan?”

“It’s more than a back-up plan,” Zeus said. “It’s a war.”

Persephone

After Charon dropped me off, I found my way back to the castle.

Inside, I ram my back into the front door, sliding down until my butt touches the cold marble floor. The hard and icy marble sends a chill throughme. I’m frozen inside, trapped in a block of ice. I’m pounding and pounding and pounding praying to shatter the slick walls with my fists. But I can’tget out and no matter how loud I scream there’s no one around to help me. I’m alone.

For the second half of the ferry ride, my tears had dried up. I got distracted watching the choppy waters of the Styx swish back and forth. Thewaters reminded me of the ferry I was on. It rocked against the current, making me think of my relationship with Hades as a ferry ride. During thatmoment it was filling me with motion sickness.

Now, I bury my head in my hands and wail, hugging myself. Alone. Alone. Alone. Even when I’m with him, I won’t really be with him. I’ll be herewhile he’s out doing what he does and the thought of that expands into a black abyss covering every organ inside of me. Pretty soon I’ll be nothing.Just a hollow shell of a Goddess that used to be.

My chest vibrates as the sobs turn into howls and I squeeze myself tighter. I need to keep myself together. This is not me. And I can’t rememberwhen I became this weak. Sniffling and using the heels of my hands, I wipe the tears from my eyes. Then using the door as a crutch, I stand. I don’tknow where to go or what to do, but I know there’s an incessant pain inching its way toward my heart and the pain is seconds away from plungingdeep into the core of my thumping organ.

I need to sleep. It’s weird, but I feel like sleep with make me feel better. Sleep will clear my head and eliminate the fog that’s been filling up inmy brain all day. And just as I push myself away from the door, I hear them. Voices. Two voices. And I know I’ll want to hear what they have to say.Placing my ear against the door, I realize I’m eavesdropping on a conversation between Hades and Charon.

“So you returned her safely?” Hades asks.

“Yes master,” Charon answers.

“Many thanks, Charon. You are a trusting and loyal servant.”

Footsteps scuffle against the cement walkway and I back away from the door in case Hades or Charon opens it. It’s probably Hades though.Even though I haven’t been here that long, I know that Charon rarely comes into the palace. He spends all of his time on that stupid ferry.

“What did you do to her, master?” Charon blurts out.

The footsteps cut out and I hear a shuffle. “What do you mean what did I do to her?” Charon isn’t challenging Hades authority. He simply wantsto know what Hades had done to offend me. “Well, go on,” Hades urges him.

“I didn’t ask her what was wrong but, she mumbled your name a few times on the way back. And she was crying master, heavily crying.”

“I don’t recall doing anything.” That’s because he didn’t do anything. He stood there like a moron and did absolutely nothing.

“She was certainly upset about something.”

“But she’s safe.”

“Yes.”

Well at least he cares about my safety.

The doorknob jiggles and I back away from the door and Hades freezes at the same time touching me with his eyes. I can feel them all overme. I can feel them peeling away the layers of my clothes, the layers of my skin. He can see my muscles. He can see all of me. He closes the doorwithout breaking his gaze. “Were you eavesdropping?”

“No.” Of course I was.

He purses his lips and narrows his eyes. “Tell me the truth.”

“Okay maybe I was.”

“Is what Charon said true then?”

“About?”

“Were you crying?”

“No.” And I will never admit to him that I was. Even though there’s probably evidence on my face; tearstained cheeks. Red, puffy eyes. Still, Ikeep a hard look on my face. I do not want him to know that I was crying. Much less crying over him. There’s a vacant expression on his face, but hiseyebrows are drawn together. A flicker of emotion sparks in his eyes and I can he wants to say something. But he says nothing and once again Ifeel like I’m being swallowed by a black cloud of nothingness. It’s expanding. The emptiness is spreading. I have to get away from him beforeemptiness swallows me and rips at me, eating me alive.

I turn, but before I can spin all the way around Hades clutches my arm and whirls me around to face him. He pulls me close and I taste his sweetbreath. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this,” he murmurs.

“What?”

“This.” Suddenly he cups the back of my neck and smothers my mouth with his and for a second I don’t know what to do. The kiss is awkwardand I feel like I’m doing everything wrong. Then almost instinctively my lips part and the kissing intensifies and everything becomes a blur. Colorswhirl around me and whiz past me. Bright colors. Bold colors. Red’s, Orange’s. Even Hot pink’s. The room is spinning in circles and I think I mightbe floating. He gently caresses his tongue with mine and I go from floating to soaring. I’m a bird. I’m flying, flapping my wings as I sweep throughmiles of endless blue. I hope I never come down.

And I feel myself falling, crashing down to reality when he pulls out of the kiss. “Don’t stop,” I whisper. Never stop. Never ever stop. I’m sick. Ithink I have the flu and his kiss, his touch—he is my antibiotic. He will cure me. He will make me well again.

“Believe me, I didn’t want to.” He places his forehead against mine and sighs, “But there is someone at the door.

It’s still crazy to me how he can sense things. Or the way he knows things. It’s like his mind is a radio, picking up every wave-length on theplanet. Less than a second later, Charon peaks his head through the front door with an urgent look in his eye. “Master, I need to speak with you.”

Hades keeps his forehead against mine. “It can wait.”

“No,” Charon insists. “It can’t.”

As Hades backs away from me I feel like he’s removing a part of my immortal soul. My arms are outstretched. My fingers are needy. I can’tthink of anything, but his lips and how I want them on mine again. His touch and how with even the smallest brush from his fingertips I feel like he’sscorching my bare skin. And the way he looks at me, like he’s undressing me with his eyes. “I’ll be right back,” he tells me. And as walks out thedoor I wonder how many times I’ll have to hear “I’ll be right back” through the lengths of eternity.

Hades

“What is it?” Hades growled as the ferry man. “What is so important that you had to drag me away from her?”

An annoyed knot tied itself in the pit of the mighty God’s stomach and if Charon didn’t start talking ASAP, that knot would change fromannoyance to rage.

Charon was nervous; Hades could tell by the way he played with his fingers and the way he kept glancing warily over his shoulder. “Someone istrying to cross,” he finally said.

“Well, who is it?” Hades demanded. It was very rare that a mortal tried to cross into the realm of the dead while they were still, well, mortal. Infact, Hades knew the last time that happened was when Orpheus tried to retrieve Eurydice. And a wicked smirk curled on his lips when he thoughtabout that moment. Orpheus failed…miserably.

“Hermes,” Charon hissed as panic etched across his crinkled up facial features.

“Hermes,” Hades repeated, robotically.

“Yes. Hermes.”

The pit of annoyance in Hades stomach turned to desperation. He knew that Hermes was sent by Zeus to retrieve his beloved. And he knewthat even if he put up a fight the Messenger of the Gods was too quick and too nimble for Hades to catch. He was smarter than Hermes, butlearning of his presence put his head in a fog. He couldn’t think straight which was very unlike him. And the fact that his cunning and quick wittednature had him stumped, frightened him. But it didn’t frighten him as much as the thought of losing her, Persephone.

Hades focused on the ground, a white asphodel blurred in his vision and in that moment Hades knew what he had to do. “Charon?” he saidlifting his eyes to the ferry man’s.

“Yes, sire,” Charon said obediently.

“Can you stall Hermes a while longer?”

“I can try, sire.”

“I only need about twenty minutes.” Then in a cloud of black smoke Hades vanished, appearing in his dining hall. In the center of the table wasone pomegranate and he knew that if he could get her to eat it, poor Hermes would have some explaining to do and also would have wasted a trip.

Hades shoved the plump fruit into a pocket of his cloak and appeared in front of Persephone’s door. He rested his ear against the heavy woodand heard her shuffling about inside. His time was limited. Extremely limited because he knew Charon and his greedy nature. And he also knewthat Hermes always came prepared, toting a sandwich bag full of coins.

Persephone

I still feel like I’m floating as I flop backwards onto my bed. My lips are raw and pink and I close my eyes, outlining them with my finger. I swear Ican still feel his lips on mine. The illusion of it feels so real my mouth throbs with heat.

There’s knock at the door and Hades opens it slowly and my heart leaps almost plummeting through my skin. A burst of joy sweeps through meand I beam at him. He’s not all coldness and death. He’s not the devil or the commander of the dead. He’s someone beautiful and warm. Someonemost girls wait their whole lives for, and in my case practically an eternity. He fills me up with light and happiness and love. And that’s something I’llnever be willing to give up.

He plops down on my bed and I scoot closer, noticing the pained look he’s wearing on his face. I lace my fingers through his and his touchsends a jolt throughout my entire body. He kisses my fingers then gazes deeply into my eyes. “Is something wrong?” I’m concerned and I wonder if Idid something to make him so upset. Maybe it was the kiss. I thought it was amazing, but that’s because I’d never really kissed a guy before muchless a God.

“You have to leave,” he says sullenly and looks away from me.

“What?” I gasp, gripping onto his fingers. “What are you talking about?”

“Hermes.” His voice is full of sadness and defeat. “He’s been sent here to retrieve you.”

“Oh no.” I look down at hands and feel the severity of the situation as it sets in. My mom and Zeus must have sent the mighty messenger,knowing that he’d be the only one who’d be able to get me back. Grief squeezes my heart when I think about going back now. I don’t want to goback. I made my mental decision after our kiss. There is no way I can leave. I belong here. I want to rot in hell eternally on a throne of shadows anddeath with Hades by my side. I want to be his queen. “There has to be something we can do,” I say. “Don’t you have a plan or something?”

Hades pushes me back on the bed, resting half on top of me. His eyes sweep over my face and he traces my jawline with a finger beforebrushing back a loose piece of my hair. “I have a plan,” he muses softly. “But that’s only if you want to participate in it.”

My face is burning and my lips tingle. My arms and legs are shaking so profusely with want for his lips on mine that I feel like every part of me ischarred. My organs are shriveling up and turning to ash. They’ll blow away with one gentle gust of wind if he doesn’t give me what I want. But hedoes. He glides his lips over mine. Kissing me softly. Sensually.

The kiss doesn’t last very long and I’m greedy. I’m a masked bandit on a train, shoveling piles of cash into a pillow case. I want more. I needmore. Just a little bit will never be enough. A tiny brush from his lips will never be enough. “Do it again,” I whisper, breathless.

“What?” he smirks. “This?” He crushes his lips into mine and this time the kiss is deeper, passionate, and exhilarating. Before I realize what I’mdoing my hands are in his hair and he’s sliding his fingers up my shirt. I can feel his heart pounding against my chest. Two hearts beating in sync.We’re breathless and tangled in lustful embrace, neither one of us wants to be pried away from each other.

He hovers above me breathless and a pang of want circles my heart. “Why did you stop?”

“We’re out of time,” he says.

“No.” We can’t be. Even if Hermes is here it will still take him time to pay Charon and cross the Styx.

I try to draw him closer, but he pulls away from me, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Hermes got here before I came to your room. He’ll beblasting through that door any minute.”

“He knows where my room is?”

“He knows where every room in the palace is. He’s been here millions of times. He has the layout memorized.”

“What about your plan?” I ask perking up. “You said you had one. What is it?”

Hades shakes his head and stares off. “Forget it,” he mutters as he runs one of his hands through his midnight locks.

“Tell me,” I demand.

He reaches into the pocket of his cloak and pulls out a red, round pomegranate. He spins the fruit around and stares at it intensely. “Youhaven’t eaten since you’ve been here.” He palms the fruit and shoves it back into his pocket. “Before I came in here I thought about tricking you intoeating somehow,” he admits. “But I can’t.” He places his hand against my cheek then lets out a soft tortured laugh. “You mean too much to me and

now I know that I can’t make you eat it. Especially if you don’t want to.”

“I mean too much to you,” I repeat softly as an explosion of delight thunders in my chest. “I—I.” I can’t find words to describe the way hearing himsay that makes me feel.

“You mean everything to me,” he announces. “I love you. I have loved you for centruries and centuries. Why do you think I’ve chased you for allthis time?”

In one swift motion, I reach across his chest and snatch the pomegranate from his pocket. “I love you too.” I bite into the fruit and chew slowlysavoring the sweet juice and bitter skin. “And I can’t imagine an eternity without you.”

He lunges for my mouth and trails his tongue along my lips licking up some of the dripping pomegranate juice. “Do you know how long I’vewaited to hear that?” he asks with a smile.

I laugh and take another bit of the fruit. “Practically forever,” I say with a mouthful.

More juice drips down my chin and Hades wipes it away with one finger before putting his finger in his mouth. “It’s sweet. Like you.”

I laugh again and swallow the chewed up fruit in my mouth then take another huge bite. After swallowing what I’ve got in my mouth the door fliesopen and Hermes stands in the open doorway. He’s all limbs, long arms and legs and his syrup colored eyes are filled with panic. He stares at thehalf-eaten pomegranate in my hand and at my juice stained lips. “No,” he gasps, inching closer. “No.”

Hades and I both stand and Hades shoves me behind him. His spine tenses and he lets out a protective growl. “Back off Hermes. You can’ttake her!”

“I can and I will,” the messenger boasts. “Hand her over, now.”

Fury builds inside of Hades and I watch his fists as they turn red and start shaking. “No!” he booms the lowers his voice. “She’s eaten the fruitof the dead, Hermes. She’s not going anywhere.”

Hermes peers around Hades and narrows his eyes as I take another huge bite. He starts toward me, pushes Hades out of the way, grabs myface, squeezing firmly as the pomegranate drops from my hands and rolls on the floor. “How much have you eaten?” Hermes shrieks. I try toswallow the mouthful of fruit, but Hermes grip on my jaw tightens. “Spit it out!”

Hades plows into Hermes, knocking him to the side and the might messenger stumbles, but smiles devilishly when he notices thepomegranate on the floor. “She’s coming with me,” he says confidently.

“No she’s not,” Hades snarls. “I already told you Hermes—.”

Hermes cuts him off, “You sure did, but you left out one tiny part.”

“What?” Hades barks.

“She’s only eaten half.” Hades eyes shift to the floor; the half-eaten piece of fruit fills his gaze and with that tiny distraction, Hermes chargesforward encircling my waist with an arm, reaches into his back pocket, and pulls out a vile of some kind of elixir. I clamp my mouth shut, but Hermesis stronger than me and manages to pry it open, spilling the elixir onto my tongue. I try to spit it out, but it’s too late and some sneaks down the backof my throat.

Hades starts for me, arms outstretched, a pained look in his eye. “Noo!”

But before he can reach me, Hermes jumps up, the wings on his shoes fluttering and blasts through the ceiling, but not before I can stretch myarms and reach for him, screaming out, “HADES”, one last time.

Persephone

Warmth surges through me. There’s no more coldness. There’s no more darkness. As I open my eyes the sunlight shines brightly and I realizeI’m not beneath the earth’s core anymore. I’m on top of it. I’m back on earth, laying ten feet away from the tree where the asphodel was planted. Thatelixir Hermes made me drink must have made me throw up because next to my face lies six seeds, the pomegranate seeds I’d consumed and Iscramble to pick them up and swallow them all over again. I have to. Swallowing them is the only way. It’s the only way I’ll get back to him. And neverbeing able to see him again is not an option.

I scoop the seeds up quickly and bring them to my lips, but just as I open my mouth to eat them, a gust of wind sweeps through the trees andcarries them away. “No!” I cry in a panic and try to chase after them. But as soon as the wind knocks them from my palm they burst into a million tinyparticles. They’re dust.

On my feet, I spin in a circle and a new flower, a daisy grows beneath the tree where the asphodel was planted. I’m panicked and desperateand I convinced myself that even though it’s a daisy, the second I pick it the earth will open up and pull me under. He’ll pull me under. He will. I knowit.

I snatch the flower hastily, pulling up some of the root. Then I wait, for seconds, minutes. After ten long, excruciating minutes of waiting passesby my entire world falls apart. He’s not coming. He’s not coming. He’s not coming. The words bounce around inside of my head as I sink to myknees.

Pain ripples through my lungs and I hunch over. I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe. Those seeds were my only hope. And now all hope is lost. I fallforward and go face first into the dirt. Hysteria swells up inside of me and spills out of my eyes in the form of tears. “No!” I slam my fists into the mud.“Come back for me. Please. I know you can.” I put my mouth directly on the ground and talk to the dirt, thinking that he’ll be able to hear me. “Comeback. Pull me under. Please.”

Shooting up from the ground, I run in circles around my yard. Maybe he’s here, watching, lurking somewhere wearing his invisibility cloak.“Hades!”

Nothing.

“Hades! Hades! Hades!”

Still nothing.

I close my eyes and suck back my tears and that’s when I hear it… His voice. “Persephone,” he hisses.

My eyes fly open and hope flourishes through me. He heard me. I knew he would. “Hades,” I call out and chase after the gentle hiss of his voice.

I hear it again, “Persephone,” and follow the sound of the voice up the back patio steps and through the sliding glass doors.

“I’m here,” I shout as tears of joy rain down my face. “I can hear you!” But the moment I close the sliding glass door, the voice cuts outaltogether. And I whip the sliding glass door open, hoping that if I step outside I’ll be able to hear him again. I fumble with handle when an oddfeeling sets in. The house is quiet, too quiet. I glimpse over my shoulder at the empty, organized kitchen. Something isn’t right. Where is my mom?

I know her. She’d never just leave me like this. She’d be waiting at the door to sweep me up in her arms, elated by my safe return. I turn awayfrom the door and creep through the kitchen. “Mom! I’m home! Are you here?”

No answer.

I bolt into the living room and take inventory. Everything is still in its place. Nothing has been moved. So I know there was no break in orkidnapping of some sort. What’s going on? I scale the steps and look in every room upstairs. Mom isn’t anywhere. She’s vanished like Hades whenhe does his infamous disappearing act. But at least I know one thing; wherever mom went, she went on her own accord.

After looking through even room in the house a second time I end up in the kitchen again so consumed by heartbreak and confusion I can’tdecide which part of me I should focus on first. The silence is startling and I wish for some kind of noise because there are a million questionsrambling in my head. I know mom and Zeus were behind Hermes taking me, but what else have they been up to? Do they plan to punish Hades? Ifso, how? Hades would never go quietly. Hades wouldn’t let them get close enough to try and administer a punishment. Besides, those kinds ofpunishments went out centuries ago, didn’t they?

A ticking clock pulls me from my thoughts and my eyes shift, but not before noticing a note held up by a magnet on the crème refrigerator.White fills up my gaze and I snatch the paper quickly, not even bothering to pick the magnet up after it falls onto the floor. There are numbersscrawled across the paper in messy handwriting with the initials M.O underneath it.

“M.O?” I question myself out loud. We don’t know anyone with those initials. Unless… Unless they aren’t a person’s initials and in that case Iknow exactly what they stand for, Mount Olympus.

Grabbing the phone, I dialed the number on the paper. The phone rings a few times then cuts out. “Mount Olympus this is Hestia,” Hestia says. Ican hear a tug of annoyance in her vocal chords. Like the last thing she wants to be doing is playing secretary and answering phones.

"Hestia,” I gush. “It’s Persephone.”

“Oh dear,” Hestia exhales and her voice relaxes. “I heard what happened to you. I’m so glad Hermes got you back safely.”

“Thanks, Hestia,” I say, twisting the phone cord between my fingers. “Can I talk to my mom? It’s important.”

“Sure, dear. One second.”

Hestia puts me on hold and some strange elevator music plays in the back round. Since when did Mount Olympus become like this. It’scommercial, almost like a corporation of some kind.

Hestia comes back on. “Persephone, you still there?”

“Yes.”

“I’ve got your mom on the other line.”

“Thanks.”

“Sweetheart!” mom squeals. “You have no idea how wonderful it is to hear your voice!”

Her voice sounds too candy coated and it makes me suspicious. “Why aren’t you here?” I ask, warily. “I thought you’d want to be here when Iwas returned.” If mom is involved in something that Zeus has his hands in I know this will not be good for me or Hades.

“I had some business to take care of.” She changes the subject. “When did you get back?”

Mom’s odd behavior enhances my suspicions even further. “Where’s Hades?”

Hades. Just mentioning his name makes my heart split open and throb. Tears water in my eyes and I pull the phone away from my face,exhaling. I’m building blocks scattered about on the floor. I need a six year old and a table to make something out of me. I need to feel built up andwhole again. I’d only been away from him an hour and already his absence is haunting me. I’d only been away from him for an hour and it felt likedays, years even. There was even a moment earlier where I swore I could feel him touching my shoulder.

“Don’t you worry about Hades,” mom snaps. “He’s being taken care of. And he’s not your concern anymore.”

At that moment, I decide trusting my mom may not be a good thing. She’s gone dirty, sided with Zeus and I know any information I give herwon’t go to my advantage. “I know,” I say with a hint of snarkiness. “I hope he gets the punishment he deserves.” I blanch after saying those wordsbecause Hades doesn’t deserve to be punished. He didn’t do anything wrong. Unless they considered loving someone for centuries a crime.

“So you haven’t spoken to him?” mom questions me. There is a suspicious undertone to her voice and I know she’s trying to tell if I’m lying. Ihave to step up my game.

“Of course not!” I scoff, pretending to be offended. “Why would I talk to him? He abducted me, remember?”

“Did he….Did he…” Mom fumbles her words. “Did he hurt you?”

“No,” I say with force. I can’t lie about that.

“Good.” A sigh of relief from her whooshes through the phone. “Don’t worry sweetheart. Hades will be judged and tried accordingly.”

Wait a second. “What?”

Muffled voices fill the backround and mom’s hand covers the receiver. A second later she’s back. “I have to go sweetheart. I’ll be home in a fewdays. And I promise no more running. We can stay in Oregon for a while. And I might even let you date that boy next door,” she pauses, “Oh. What’shis name?” I can hear her snapping her fingers.

“Adonis,” I say with a growl.

“Yes, Adonis,” she gushes. “I love you sweetheart.”

But I don’t want Adonis. I love Hades. He is my forever.

“Mom, wait!” But it’s too late. All I hear is a dial tone.

After hanging up the phone, I walk into the living room and fall backwards onto the couch. I need to come up with a plan and I need to figure outwhat’s going on. But there is a barrier blocking out my thoughts. I can’t think straight. Wanting a distraction, I reach for the remote and turn on thetelevision. I look away, hoping that the noise makes me come up with a solution of sort—a way to find out what’s going on with my mom and whatthey are going to do to Hades, but I come up with nothing.

“More breaking news on the Pomegranate crisis.” The deep overpowering voice of a male newscaster throbs in my ears and pulls me from myreverie. My eyes flash to the television screen. I pick up the remote and turn up the volume, keeping my eyes glued to the screen.

Multiple images flash across the screen of blazing trees. Bright orange and yellow flames dance around in my eyes and my mouth gapes openas I watch the broadcast and the events being broadcasted unfold. I get up from the couch and sit down on the floor, inches away from the screen.The picture fade from the screen and the newscaster comes back on. The regal, well put together man adjusts a stack of papers in front of him andclears his throat. “Thank you for tuning in.”

“Pomegranate crisis,” I mumble in disbelief.

The newscaster goes on with his report. “The pomegranate crisis has reached an all-time high as it appears that now every tree has been setablaze. We’ve got Stan on the scene with more information. Stan?”

More images flash on the screen and each image has a place listed underneath, but I look away momentarily and the only one I notice is India.I focus on the screen again when the reporter on the scene comes into view, standing feet away from a burning tree. “Thanks Bob.” The reportersteps to the side and hold his hand out, pointing to the tree behind him. “This is Stan Williams reporting for WKFTV and I’m here in Californiareporting on the unfolding Pomegranate Crisis and we’ve got an eye witness account. A short rotund man steps forward. There’s a wobble in hisstep and ashes and dirt smeared all over his round face. Stan extends the microphone to the man. “Sir, can you tell us what you saw?”

The man looks dazed and exhausted, not to mention terrified. “It’s the strangest thing I’ve ever seen,” his voice quivers and I’m pretty sure he’sshaking because his belly jiggles. “One second everything was fine, the next, “The man turns and points to the sky, “The entire sky was white withlightning.”

I shut the television off. The second the man said, “lightning,” I knew there was only one person I could blame for this…Zeus.

Hades

Hades heard her painful shrieks. He heard he call out his name, sobbing in agony, and blanched at the sound of it. He wanted to go to her. Hewanted to sweep her up in his arms and tell her not to be upset. That she shouldn’t cry because everything would be okay. Even though he knewsaying that would be a lie, he didn’t care.

Shortly after she left his realm Hades had noticed little things happening that threw him off guard. For one, Hermes had returned to theunderworld and confiscated his entire supply of pomegranates before Zeus had taken it upon himself to wipe out every other tree in the world. Thenhis invisibility cloak disappeared and Hades ability to vanish and reappear wouldn’t work. He’d tried initially to appear in front Persephone whileshe was crying, but couldn’t. It’s like a barrier had been put up, preventing him from using his powers and he knew exactly who was behind it.

Pacing in front of a roaring fire place, Hades stopped allowing the whirling flames to fill his gaze. He was lost in a trance, developing theories,and trying to figure out how to get back to Persephone or how to bring her back to him. He was at a disadvantage. The five God’s and Goddessesa part from himself had forged an alliance against him, using whatever means possible to keep him away from his one, true love.

But why?

Was it because he took her? Or were there issues that ran deeper than that? Hades knew he and Zeus had always had a rocky relationship,but why start a war now?

And what plagued him more than anything was that Demeter and Zeus knew that Hades would be able to snatch Persephone eventually. Hethought of the multiple times where he’d visited Demeter and assured her it would only be a matter of time until he would succeed. And Demeter putup a hell of a fight. She was always prepared, always ready to pack up her things and move, throwing Hades off her trail.

A repetitive flapping noise distracted Hades and as the noise cut out, he turned toward the dining hall table, and took notice in an eagle withbrown feathers and a white breast as it perched itself on the edge. Hades shook his head, looking away as a scowl curled on his lips. “Show yourtrue form, Zeus,” he demanded with a snarl. “There’s no point in hiding it.”

When Hades glanced back at the bird from over his shoulder the bird was gone and in its place was the mighty God of God’s, the father of allthe immortals, dressed in a dapper navy blue business suit. Zeus was all business most of the time. Yes, sometimes he was fun, but more businessthan anything. “How did you get down here?” The coldness in Hades tone was frosty like too many layers of ice on a frozen lake. “Why didn’t you justsend the messenger?”

“Because I thought you might kill him.” Zeus howled out with laughter at his own pun and Hades leered at him. The joke wasn’t funny for tworeasons; one, because Zeus knew Hades couldn’t kill Hermes and two because Hades despised the fact that Zeus always had someone elsedoing his dirty work. At least when Hades did something despicable, he mapped out a plan to carry out the idea on his own.

“What do you want Zeus?” Hades gazed back into the fire, lost in thought. For a moment, he swore he saw her. He swore he saw Persephonedancing around in the whirling flames with a radiant smile on her face and the illusion made his heart ache.

“I want this,” said Zeus. “All of this.” He twirled his finger in the air, motioning to their surroundings.

Hades stepped away from the fireplace and lurched closer. “This? My realm?” The father of all nodded with a sadistic smile. Zeus had alwaysbeen a power hungry God, but now he was going too far. “You can’t have it!” Hades snapped and he felt the fire of rage unfurling inside of him. “I willnot give it up without a fight!”

“Oh. You’ll give it up.” Zeus lowered his voice.

Hades remembered the hatred that ran deep for Zeus when he’d first condemned him to this realm, but after thousands of years Hades hadgrown fond of his kingdom and he was not giving it up just because Zeus was on a power trip. “Never.” The finality in Hades voice made Zeus’seyes widen a tiny bit. “What about Poseidon? Will you take the sea too?”

Zeus tapped his chin with his forefinger, thinking. “Perhaps, but that’s a different war for a different day.”

“You’re worse than I am,” Hades hissed. Everyone always thought that Hades was the cruelest of the God’s just because of his job, but Zeushad him beat. But unlike Hades, Zeus was able to hide his despicable side and he had one thing Hades normally didn’t compassion.

The God of the Sky smiled, a fake sickening smile that made Hades stomach churn. “I take that as a compliment.”

Hades had always believed that everything happened for a reason so there was no need for compassion and as he observed Zeus itappeared that his compassion had been waning as well. “Hades, you need to come with me,” said Zeus, motioning in a come-hither gesture.

Hades’ eyes wandered around the dining room. This was his palace. This was his world. He did not want to give it up. He did not want to leave.“And if I don’t come with you, what then? Is this really because I took her? You knew I would eventually. You knew—I.”

“It’s not just because you took her. This goes deeper than that,” Zeus interrupted.

Hades didn’t like the way he’d answered his questions. His vagueness was annoying. “Answer me, Zeus. And what if I don’t come with youwillingly? What if I put up a fight?”

Zeus narrowed his eyes and held out his palms. Hades watched as his fingertips spit out white lines of electricity, snapping and crackingbefore whirling around in circle. Then her image appeared. She was sleeping and the hard look Hades was wearing faded away. She looked sopeaceful, and beautiful, and Hades swore that he saw her mumble his name in her sleep. Suddenly Zeus lowered his hands and the ball ofelectricity evaporated along with the image. “You will come with me,” Zeus said with adamant tone. “Or I’ll kill her.”

“You can’t kill her,” Hades whispered harshly.

Zeus let out a long sinister laugh. “Have you forgotten who I am Hades?” he asked with a scowl. “I created her. I can most definitely kill her.”

Hades balled up his fists and gritted his teeth, hatred pounded through him, numbing everything inside of him. “You wouldn’t.”

“You underestimate me, Hades.” Zeus clutched his arm and squeezed. Then in a low, eerily frightening voice he said, “I would.”

In that moment Hades knew he had to do something drastic to save her. He had to something to ensure Zeus wouldn’t hurt her. And thatsomething was breaking Persephone’s heart.

Persephone

Persephone. I hear him again half-way through my slumber. The sound of his deep, beautiful voice lures me from my bed. I’m walking, down thestairs, through the hall and my eyes open abruptly when I arrive in the kitchen.

“You,” I gasp. “You’re here.”

“Not really,” he says.

He’s sitting at the kitchen table; smiling and I beam at the sight of his smile. I start toward him. Then he frowns and right before I reach him, heholds out his hand, palm up. “Don’t come any closer.” Pain twists in his voice and he looks down trying to hide the emotion on his face.

“Why?” I choke out. My insides are a towering inferno of agony. Put out my fire. Touch me. Smother the blaze with your fingertips. “You called tome. Didn’t you… Didn’t you,” I stutter, stunned by the way he’s acting. “Why did you call my name if you didn’t want to see me?”

He skims his fingers across my cheeks and eases the burning. I close my eyes and moan softly, kissing his palm. He yanks his hand away andstartles me. My eyelids snap open and I observe him. There’s no softness to him anymore. He’s rigid, hard like cement, frozen in a way I’ve neverseen him before. Even his Aegean blue eyes are fierce, deadly. “This is goodbye,” he says boldly. “I don’t want to see you anymore.”

I feel like someone has stuck the hose of a shop-vac down my throat and sucked out my organs. Soon I’ll collapse in a heap on the floor.“What?” A dull pain throbs in my side and I hug myself, hoping to take it away. It doesn’t work. “I don’t understand.”

“Forget me,” he says in a harsh tone. “Forget I ever took you. Forget you ever met me. I am nothing, but a figment of your imagination. I am adream.”

“Never,” my voice trembles. I can never do what he’s asking me to. I will never forget him or the way he makes me feel. “I can’t.”

His eyes pierce mine and the set of shimmering blue orbs are emotionless, but I get the sense that he’s hiding something. There’s somethinghidden behind the front he’s putting up. “What’s going on?” I ask and reach out for him. “Why are you acting like this? I thought I meant something toyou. I thought you loved me.” His eyes shift to my hand, like the gesture repulses him and then he looks away.

“That isn’t true.” His words pound into my head like a gavel into a circle of wood. “You were a challenge, that’s all.”

This isn’t real. This isn’t real. This isn’t real.

“I’m dreaming. This is just a nightmare. I’m going to wake up.” I pinch myself, hoping that my eyes will fly open and I’ll find myself in my bed.

“You’re dreaming,” he insists, “I can only see or talk to you in your dreams. But this is not a nightmare. What I’m saying to you is the truth. You’rea challenge that I conquered. I don’t love you. I’m sorry I had to tell you like this.”

At that moment I snap. I go crazy and lunge for him, shoving him as hard as I can. “You’re lying! You’re lying!” What he feels for me is real. I’mnot a challenge he conquered. I can’t be. I remember the way I’d catch him looking at me with a deep longing in his eyes. I remember seeing thelove in his eyes. That wasn’t fake. It was real. I know it was real.

My face is hot and tears spill from my eyes. I slam my fists into his chest and he does nothing to console me. He stands there like an immortalpunching bag and allows me to pummel him with punch after punch.

“Are you finished?” he asks a vacant tone in his voice.

I burrow my fists into my eyes then stare at him. He’s still wearing a cold, emotionless expression. He eyes me oddly before walking to thedoor. “Sometimes the truth hurts.” I hang my head low, trying to control my sobs. It feels like every time I get a firm grasp on keeping them insidemore slip out. My throat feels itchy and raw. My entire body is shaking. My knees buckle and I fall onto the floor. Get a hold of yourself. Get a hold ofyourself.

I’m a blubbering mess and when I finally feel like I’ve put myself back together, I lift my head up to reply to him, but he’s not in the kitchen. Anunsettling silence engulfs the room and I know he’s not in my house either. He’s gone.

Persephone

Part of me hoped that last night would be a bad dream. I hoped that when I woke up in my own bed, I’d be able to smile and know that duringmy slumber I had the worst nightmare of my entire life.

But I don’t wake up in my bed. I wake up on the floor in the kitchen. It was a nightmare, a nightmare that actually happened. I hear him, “I don’tlove you,” and the words surge through me. They shock me, hurt me, and expand into an abyss of anguish. If I could die right now, I would want to.

Pain. All there is is pain. I feel like someone has just plunged their fist into my chest and wrapped their fingers around my heart. They aresqueezing and squeezing. There is blood everywhere. A crimson river trails down the length of their arm and when they yank their hand out of mychest cavity my organ is in their palm. But it doesn’t beat. They’ve killed it. And now I’m dead inside.

How could he say those things to me when he’d said the exact opposite hours earlier? How could he look me in the eye and utter, “I don’t loveyou. You were a challenge that’s all.”

Just about thinking about it breaks me a part all over again. Just thinking about those vile, evil words make me want to be sick.

Unless I was right and he was lying. An image of his face flashes behind my eyes. So cold, so emotionless, so lifeless. Not even a flicker ofhumanity inside of him. It hits me all at once. He wasn’t lying. He was telling the truth.

For the rest of the morning, I lie in my bed. What I want is to be like him. I want to be an android incapable of feeling. I want to be able to beprogrammed to turn the emotion on and off with the flick of a switch. But I can’t. No. In that moment, I make a promise to myself. It’s too easy to shuteverything out. It’s too easy to walk through life hollow and empty. And even though a dull pain has been pumping through me since he left me on thekitchen floor, I know I’ll never want to be like him. I will always want to feel.

Questions continue, filling up my brain. What did he want me for then? Did he want me to stay there as a statue at his side? Don’t speak.Stand still. Look pretty. You’re wall décor. A portrait hanging on the wall in his dreary home. He’d admire me thoughtfully and marvel at my beautyand think how much he enjoys having me on his wall, but that would be the extent of it.

I smother my face with my pillow and scream. I let the torture out. I let the pain out. I scream away my heartbreak.

****

Later on that night, I sit on the back patio and stare at the moon. It’s full and bright and glowing, casting light spots and dancing shadows onportions of the back yard. I watch the shadows take form and whirl around sliding from tree trunks to the grass. Sounds of night; crickets chirping,and the pitter-patter of forest creatures feet hammers in my ears. I used to like the sounds that emerged after the sun went down. It reminds me thateven after the sun sets that the earth is still alive. But not today. Today I want every sound to fade away and die. I want the silence to drown me.

Plodding footsteps cut into my thoughts and I turn to my right as the shadow of a person comes into view. Instinctively, I stand and that’s whenAdonis, the beautiful boy from next door steps out of the shadows and into a glowing beam of moonlight.

“Persephone,” he gasps, jogging toward me. “You’re okay!” I sit back down and he sits down next to me. “I was worried,” he tells me assincerity flashes in his melted chocolate brown eyes. “Your mom told me you were sick. Are you feeling better?”

I try to smile, but my lips only curl up half-way. Normally just looking at Adonis knocks the wind out of my lungs. But I felt the sliver of emotion I’dfelt for him seep out of me the first time Hades kissed me. “Yes,” I reply weakly. “I’m better.” I’m not better. I’m worse. Much much worse.

Adonis flashes me a radiant smile and playfully nudges me with his shoulder. “I’m glad. So does that mean you’ll be in school tomorrow?”

“Probably not. I’m just getting my strength back. It might take a few more days.”

He scrunches his eyebrows together and looks at his hands. “Was it the flu or something?”

I turn my head. “Something like that.” I wonder if he can sense that I’m distant. I examine his face. No. He looks happy, smiling brightly, eyessparkling, dimples indented in his cheeks.

“I heard you yesterday. I wanted to come over then, but I thought you might have wanted a day to yourself.”

“You heard me?”

“You were shouting. A name. Hades.”

“Oh,” I say, trying to keep calm on the outside. On the inside I’m panicking, racking my brain for another lie. In my moment of grief I forgot aboutthe neighbors. I didn’t think anyone would hear me. “I was delusional. I had a fever,” was all I could come up with.

Adonis rests his palm against my forehead. The warm sizzle I used to feel when he touched me isn’t there. It’s just another sweaty palm. “Notanymore,” he muses. “You’re as cool as a cucumber.”

Adonis mentioning Hades punctures a hole in my heart all over again. I don’t want to talk anymore. I don’t want to think anymore. I want to lockmyself away in a closet and never come out again. “I’m tired,” I announce as I stand. “I’m going to turn in for the night.”

He remains seated and a spark of concern resonates in his creamy brown eyes. “Persephone, wait.”

But I don’t wait. I turn on my heel, slamming the sliding glass door, and leaving Adonis alone on my back patio to admire the moon.

That night I dream of Hades again. But this time he doesn’t come to me. This time it’s like an out of body experience and I’m watching eventsunfold. We’re in the Hall of the Gods and Hades is on his knees in front of Hestia, Mom, Hera, Poseidon, and Zeus. He hangs his head low andZeus is shouting, his face red with fury, and he’s shaking a fist, but I can’t hear the words coming out of his mouth.

My heart palpitates. My breaths quicken. And before I know it I’m running then sliding on my knees next to Hades. I glimpse over my shoulder atthe other God’s and Goddesses and shriek, “Stop! Stop it! He didn’t do anything wrong!” Then I try to cup his face with my hands, but they slip rightthrough him. Frustrated and terrified for him, I throw the weight of my body into him, but once again I slip right through him. There is pain on his faceand I swear I can see a miniscule tear dribble down his cheek.

Then it hits me and I bolt upright in my bed, gasping. Oh God. Hades projected the dream. He’s able to put images in my head. Yesterday…Yesterday he was lying. He wants them; the other God’s to think he doesn’t love me. He wants them to think he’s cut off communication. He’s tryingto protect me from something. I know it. I can feel it. But what is it that he’s protecting me from? My mom? Could it be Zeus?

Confusion drenches me and I fall back against my pillow. Instead of trying to come up answers to all the questions sounding off in my mind, Icome up with a solution to everything. The only way I can get back to him is by finding a pomegranate and eating it. But thanks to Zeus every tree onthe planet is now ash. I’m sure Hades supply has been cleaned out.

I hop out of bed and race down the stairs, mapping out a plan in my head. I pace in the kitchen. Without pomegranates there would be noseeds so growing my own tree isn’t an option. Think Persephone, think. I sit down at the table and massage my temples. Zeus may be one of theworst father’s on the planet, but he is smart. He’d never destroy every tree in the world. He’s always been obsessed with control and you can’tcontrol something that doesn’t exist.

Racking my brain, my mind goes back to a time during my childhood. I’ve always been curious and at time mischievous and I recall one timewhere I’d wandered into one of Zeus’s private rooms in the Hall of the Gods. I’d only been in there for a second before my mom scurried in after me,scolding me. “Persephone,” she’d said gripping my hand and pulling me out of the room. “This is Zeus’s private room. You’re not allowed in here.”Right before we exited the room. I caught a glimpse of it a tree growing in through the window, plump balls of fruit with reddish skin dangling off thebranches.

I jump up from my seat. I don’t why I didn’t realize this before. I knew when I saw the fruit initially there was something vaguely familiar about it.One tree left in the world. One way back into the arms of my beloved. One item to use as a bargaining chip for his freedom. I have to get to that tree.And that means I have to go back to place that I haven’t been to in five thousand years. My one and only true home. Mount Olympus.

Epilogue

Pomegranate

I pack my things in hurry, tossing random items into a duffle bag. Then double checking to make sure I have everything; identification, clothing,my passport, and extra cash.

Sprinting to the front door, I mentally tell Hades not to worry. I’m coming. I know and I will save you. I promise. I know he can’t actually hear me,but somehow it makes me feel better saying the words. Even if they’re in my head.

At the front door, I reach for the knob, but someone is on the other side of the door, twisting it and the metal jingles before I yank the door open.Adonis stands at my front door, lowering his hand a suspicious loo in his eyes. “Good morning, Adonis,” I say stepping outside and closing the doorbehind.

He holds his chin with his thumb and forefinger, looking at me puzzled. “Um, where are you going?”

I walk to my left and he follows. Then I walk to my right, trying to get around him, but he still follows me. “Adonis, look,” I sigh frustrated. “Can youplease get out of my way?” He eyes me oddly and I try to dash past him again, but he stops me. “I have to be somewhere! Stop this! It’s important!”

Adonis doesn’t move.

I shove past him and he clutches my shoulders and pushes me back. “You’re going to him, aren’t you?”

“Him?” What is going on here? What is up with him? “What are you talking about?”

“You’re trying to save him, aren’t you? I don’t think you’ll make it in time.”

I’ve had it. “What in the hell do you mean, him?” I shout and ball up my fists. “And no, I’m not going to make it anywhere in time if you don’tmove.”

Adonis closes his eyes for a second and opens his mouth to reply, but I take that as an open opportunity to sprint past him. I don’t make it veryfar. He grips on to my waist and tackles me, pinning me down on the grass. I thrash violently and almost blast him in the jaw. I only miss it by acentimeter. “I’m sorry, Persephone. But you’re not going anywhere.” He eases up off me and sits back on his knees. “I’ve been given strictinstructions to watch you and make sure you don’t go anywhere.”

I don’t even know what to say. I’m baffled. I’ve been living next door to someone I thought I knew. “What is going on?” I shout. “You’d better starttalking!”

Adonis shakes his head and stands. “There are things you don’t know.” Adonis extends his hand to me. I slap it away, enraged. The rage ismixed with worry. I have to swallow it. I can’t let my temper get the best of me. With every second that passes I feel like Hades is slipping farther andfarther away. I close my eyes and hear him. Come to me. And I’m trying, believe me, I’m trying.

I stand slowly and glare at Adonis and I hope he can see how much I loathe him right now.

His eyes pierce mine and he cocks his head to the side, wearing a cocky grin. “You can’t run, Persephone because even if you do I’ll find you.”

I stagger backwards, mouth gaping and gasp. “What are you?”

“It’s not about what I am,” he replies, “It’s about who I am.” He takes me by the arm and guides me back to the front door. My time is dwindlingdown. I can feel Hades getting farther and farther away, slipping through my grasp. His voice fades, almost and echo.

“Adonis,” I plead. “You need to let me go. I have to help him.”

Adonis pushes me through the front door without responding to me and forces me onto the couch. He sits down across from me on a plush,reclining chair and cocks his head to the side. “I need to tell you a secret,” he says. “I’m not who you think I am.”

Biography

Lauren Hammond is the bestselling author of the YA romance novella, He Loves Me He Loves You Not. She has a severe addiction to coffeeand amazing books. She is a literary agent with ADA Management Group and she can be found in any book store perusing the YA section or athome, writing.