Persephone: Chapter 8

It’s really hard to function when it’s 90+ degrees and your air conditioning isn’t working. I thought this week would go so much easier. Guess that’s what I get for bragging about being so far of my deadline last week!

Read the first chapter of Persephone here. ​

Chapter 8
​Persephone

My relief at Hades’ peaceful departure was short lived. Artemis dragged me by the wrist, through the forest, to where her attendants waited.

The maidens bowed in unison.

“Mistress,” a maiden with a small coronet said with a fist crossing her heart. “Shall we prepare for battle?”

“No, Atalanta,” Artemis replied shortly. “I must return this babe to her mother’s side before she stirs up anymore trouble.”

My protest came out as a small squawk as I was hauled into Artemis’ golden chariot.

Four golden hinds leapt forward in harness, at their mistress’s silent command. The fifth, a stag, raced around us. At times, dashing ahead, others times, prancing easy circles around the car.

Between hunting spears and spare quivers full of arrows, there was barely room for the two of us to stand.

My cheeks still burned, but I was relieved to be removed from the disapproving eyes of the women who’d eternally forsworn the company of men.

Artemis remained silent. Colder than ever. The only time she ever showed any warmth was when she tried teaching me hunting or sparring. (Neither of which were activities I relished.) But there was usually at least some bit of easiness between us—some hint of tolerance or small approval. None remained.

The huntress was imposing despite her small stature and knee-length skirt. A small tiara bore the crescent moon upon her head, and wisps of her braided hair writhed like tiny snakes in the wind as she drove.

It was just as well she didn’t speak to me. Her occasional mutters of “foolish girl’ were lost in the wind.

Mother’s temple appeared before I was ready. But, then, was I ever ready for her scolding?

“Demeter,” Artemis called and stepped out.

Mother’s hurried form appeared from within the dimly lit chamber.

Though I’d never been allowed inside, I could see the alter dripping with ears of corn. Offerings of the harvest were strewn about the floor—a colorful mixture of wheat sheaves, grains, vegetables, and fruit.

Something green caught my eye. Apples. Mortals had offered my mother apples. My apples.

A tinge of jealousy flared, then was quickly overcome by excitement. My creation was being harvested by mortals—eaten by mortals. And even deemed worthy as a sacred offering to their patron goddess.

With a second look, I discovered other fruits of my design, and even flowers encircling the alter.

Were the mortals bringing offerings for me as well?

Mother’s sharp gasp brought me back to the moment.

“Hades?” she said.

“Yes,” Artemis nearly spat. “I discovered them just as he proposed to the girl.”

“He did n…” I started but was cut off.

Mother grabbed my arms and stared into my eyes with a horrified look.

“You didn’t,” she said, then exhaled. “No, surely not. If you had accepted him, he would have taken you away.”

She pulled me tightly to her.

“And I would never have seen you again,” she cried.

“I’m sure she would have,” Artemis accused. “She looked to be completely in his power when I arrived. You must do something about this girl immediately or you will find her off and married to some scoundrel the first you blink.”

I broke from Mother’s embrace.

“I would not,” I exclaimed and thought of all the gods I had already rejected. Hades was only the latest in a string of unwanted suitors.

Wasn’t he?

“Regardless, if Hades has set his sights on our poor Kore, we will be hard pressed to keep her safe,” Mother said.

“You know what must be done,” Artemis said with a scowl. “As I’ve told you time and again.”

Mother sighed and drew her fingers through my hair.

“She must swear,” Artemis said. “Perpetual maidenhood is her only safeguard.”

The oath of the eternal maiden?

I backed away in horror.

“No,” I said. “You can’t make me swear the oath!”

To remain forever a maiden goddess? To never allow myself love, or partnership, or children?

The memory of Hades’ dark eyes scalded. To never again feel his soft touch…

Tears sprang unbidden to my eyes.

“You must,” shouted Artemis.

“Peace,” Mother waved her hand and came to me.

“Daughter,” she said. “I will not have you swear this now, but please consider. It may be the only way to protect your freedom.”

My freedom? It felt like a prison.

“You are young,” she continued. “You do not know the ways of gods. The cunning and deceit they are capable of.”

“Were you deceived by Zeus?” I asked angrily.

“Our father is exactly why we must be wary,” Aretmis said with scorn. “Zeus plucks up women like grapes from a vine, and the other gods are no better.”

Mother laid a gentle hand on my shoulder.

“She speaks the truth, Kore,” Mother said. “No man, mortal or god, can ever be trusted.”

“Are none of them truly kind as they seem?” I asked, my thoughts turned back to the gods who had sought my hand. While cowardly, some like Hephaestus seemed genuinely sweet. Was that a ruse? Would the kindness become cruelty?

“No,” Aretmis said harshly, then turned to Mother. “She cannot be trusted with alone anymore.”

“I am disappointed in the Oceanid’s care of her,” Mother said.

“That cannot be a surprise,” Artemis laughed mirthlessly. “Many have already had children by Zeus or another god. They’d give the girl up to earn a mere smile from Zeus. Goodness knows what they’d do for an known, mysterious god like Hades.”

“I only hope I am powerful enough to stave him off,” Mother said.” I witnessed the strength of his power during the Titanomachy. Ten years of battle… The feats I witnessed were substantial. I must keep her with me at all times.”

“I’ll be fine on my own,” I tried to say, but was hushed with a wave of hands and loud voices, which spoke over me.

“I agree. Unless she is in your care or mine, it is too much of a risk until she has sworn the oath,” said Artemis.

What protection has that stupid oath historically given anyone, anyhow? It would, perhaps stave off mortals, but gods? Probably minor ones would be too afraid of Artemis’s wrath.

Not that anyone would listen to my logic. Mother tried not to press me for an oath, I could tell, but the worry was wearing on her.

Artemis, however had no such scruples. When I was with her, she relentlessly tried to shame me into swearing maidenhood. My reasons for delaying were never satisfactory. The more I delayed, the more she seemed to dislike me.

But there was a positive side. Mother was forced to take me with her all over the earth. I got to see places and people—actual mortals, not just demigods!

Mortals were much as I’d been told. Like busy ants running from place to place, so focused so much on their little lives, they didn’t see the vast world around them.

And, to my amazement, the world was vast. The little corner of it I’d known before had seemed large. I couldn’t believe how different each place was. Deep valleys, snowy mountains (though, Mother made a wide path around Olympus), scorching deserts, rivers and lakes so vast I thought they must be seas (until we visited the seaside), and countless meadows and forests so much like my own.

But the diverse flora in each area was what stunned me the most. I picked flower after flower and tried foods I’d never heard of—so many new ideas for future projects.

We spied Athens from atop a hill. So many buildings and mortals in one place. And the olive groves! Of course, I’d eaten olives before, but to see entire forests of the scrubby trees—to walk beneath their boughs and pluck the fruit myself…

In the rich meadows of Thessaly, we reaped beautiful grapes. Men and their herds of cattle dotted the countryside. The mortals worshiped Mother with small temples scattered throughout the region—all with bounteous offerings.

It was at one such temple, at Larissa that two mortals dared approach us. I was shocked, though we’d concealed our full immortal glory, to be among them, none before had dared.

Mother gestured, and I stayed far behind as she met their approach.

They bowed deeply and seemed to show proper deference, but something was off.

“Great goddesses,” one said, who was not quite as handsome as his companion, but wore a crown. “All of Thessaly is deeply honored by your presence. I am Peirithous, king of the Lapiths of Larissa. We are ever grateful for the great bounty you have bestowed upon us.”

Mother nodded but frowned. She must have noticed that both men kept looking past her—to me.

“Those two are quite brazen,” a quiet voice said beside me.

I turned, but no one was to be found.

A small laugh came, and I felt a hand rest on my arm. But, to my astonishment, I could see no one.

“Persephone,” the male voice said, and I shivered.

“Hades?” I whispered.

“You’ll have to forgive the subterfuge. After that little tiff with Artemis, I doubt Demeter will let me anywhere near you.”

“You’re right. How,” I started. “Of course. Your helm. I heard it could grant invisibility. Guess that rumor’s true as well.”

“This is the first time I’ve found her distracted enough to speak with you,” he said.

“And I am Theseus, prince of Athens,” I heard the other mortal tell Mother.

I as curious about the mortals, but couldn’t follow their conversation. Hades still touched my arm.

“Have you been well,” Hades asked.

“For the most part,” I said. “This journey has been enjoyable, but Mother holds a tight leash.”

I could almost feel his frown.

“She won’t let me out of her sight,” I said.

“Your mother is fiercely protective of those she loves,” he said.

“I wish she’d be little less fierce and a little more open minded,” I said.

New eyes upon me got my attention.

“But who is that lovely goddess who accompanies the Good Goddess,” Peirithous asked.

It seemed Mother’s and Hades’s eyes were both aflame at once, though nothing truly happened other than Hades’s grip on my arm tightened for a moment.

“I’ll let Demeter handle that one this time,” Hades growled.

Gusting wind whipped at Mother’s robes, and her glory shone brightly. Almost too brightly. I wasn’t particularly fond of these men, but I didn’t necessarily want them burned to cinders on my account.

I raced forward and touched her shoulder.

“Mother,” I said. “Please forgive the mortals. Surely, they do not mean to be impertinent.”

A whisper in my hear made my skin tingle.

“I’m sure they do mean it,” Hades said. “Theseus is a well-known rogue. Even among the gods, his name is synonymous with trouble.”

My pulse raced. Hades stood only feet away from Mother, with only myself separating them.

“And that one, Peirithous,” he continued. His breath tickled the hairs near my neck. “Is the son of Ixion, who suffers eternal torment in my realm. I’d heard those two fools were thick as thieves. I suppose, like father, like son.”

The mortals knelt before us.

Mother seemed to calm somewhat.

“Never look upon the goddess Persephone-Kore again or your pitiful lives will meet a painful end,” Mother said.

Hades let out a small grunt as I elbowed him. I had no idea where I actually hit, but a bit smug I’d gotten him.

Mother looked at me with confused eyes. I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Mother,” I said. “Might I go look closer at those cows on the hill? I’ve never seen a cow up close.”

She looked at the retreating figures of the men, to the cows in the opposite direction, then back to me.

“Very well,” she sighed. “But, Kore, do not go beyond that hill. And stay always within my sight.”

“Yes, Mother.”

I was rushing away almost before the words left my lips. Anticipation as sweet as ambrosia. Cows were interesting and all, but… Hades had come to see me.

Read the next chapter of Persephone here!