She did know the rules. Don’t talk to any male Olympians who arrive to see Demeter. Be with the nymphs because they were the better creatures to trust. The only goddesses she ever had contact with were the virginal ones, and Kore was tired.
More than that, she was bored. So bored with this life and everything that came with it.
“Mother.” She tried to think of anything that would convince Demeter.
She could get angry. Kore’s tantrums were impressive and frightening, considering she’d inherited her mother’s ability to make plants grow. But that was the reaction of a child, and she refused to play into her mother’s game. No, she would react to this situation like an adult.
Or at least, like someone who knew they could win.
Kore straightened her shoulders and looked her mother in the eye. “Mother, I would like to go to Olympus. I will follow whatever rules you put in place, but I think it’s time for me to meet the rest of my family.”
She held her mother’s gaze even though her body wanted to quake. Demeter could try to scare her into submission, but she wouldn’t fall prey this time. She had to make her mother see just how serious she really was.
Cyane shivered at her side. The naiad should have run off with the others, so she wasn’t caught in the middle of this fight. They were sensitive creatures, and the slightest hint of Demeter’s wrath usually sent them into the thicket.
Demeter lifted both brows this time. But something changed in her expression. A softening that Kore knew was a good sign.
“Fine,” her mother sighed. “If you have to go to Olympus, then I suppose this is the time to do it.”
If shouting with joy wouldn’t ruin the moment, Kore would have. Instead, she bowed before her mother and pressed Demeter’s fingers to her lips. “Thank you, Mother. You have no idea how much this means to me.”
Demeter turned her hand over and cupped Kore’s chin. She tilted her head, forcing Kore to look her in the eyes. “You will follow every single one of my rules while you’re there. Do you hear me, daughter?”
“Anything,” she promised again. “You know I won’t get in trouble, Mother. I just want to see it. I won’t even talk to anyone if you don’t want me to.”
“Oh, they’ll all want to talk with you. And you won’t be rude.” Demeter released her chin. “Don’t make me regret this, daughter. Cyane, prepare her for Olympus. We leave when Helios takes the sun.”
Demeter disappeared, but Kore waited a few more moments. Sometimes her mother liked to spy after she left. She’d caught Kore’s complaining a few times.
When she was certain her mother wasn’t listening anymore, she turned to Cyane with an excited squeal. “Olympus!”
Cyane held out her hands with a bright laugh. “Olympus!”
She snatched her friend’s hands and together they jumped in a circle. Their pale peplos bounced around them, and giddiness made her vision spin.
“We aren’t working today then,” Kore said when they finished squealing.
“We have to get you ready for Olympus,” Cyane said. Another snort of laughter rocked through her. “It feels so strange to say. You’re going to meet the greatest of the gods.”
Technically, her mother was one of them. But she didn’t think of Demeter like that when the goddess had lowered herself to living in the mortal realm. The gods who lived in Olympus were the ones everyone feared. The ones who made history with their words and the heroes they chose to fight in their name.
“Do you think Apollo will be there?” she asked.
“Won’t they all be there?” Cyane replied. Her blue eyes were so large they looked like twin pools in the pale moon of her face.
Kore supposed they would all be there. However, Apollo was the one all the nymphs talked about at night. They whispered of his handsome features and the golden curls of his hair. They made it seem as though even looking at him would sear the flesh from a woman’s bones.
And she was going to meet them all. The sun god. The goddess of war. Even Poseidon himself, who Cyane had only spoken of in tiny whispers. She rarely spoke of the god of the sea.
Her stomach twisted with sudden anxiety. “Mother says they’re all cruel,” Kore slowly said.
Suddenly, she wondered if this was the right decision. Her mother had given in a little too quickly... Was this another lesson? A way to prove to her daughter that she never would want to live in Olympus?
Cyane shoved her shoulder. “None of that. We’re going to get you in your best peplos, and maybe the gold himation?”
The shawl always looked nice wrapped around her shoulders. Yes, that would do quite well.
She’d look like a goddess. Just like them.
“Yes, I’ll wear that one.” She tapped a finger to her chin. “What should we do with my hair?”
Cyane’s eyes glinted with happiness. “I know exactly what to do with it. And makeup? I think one of my sister’s stole charcoal from a human. We could line your eyes! They’ll look so beautiful. You’ll steal Apollo’s heart.”
She didn’t want to do that, but her cheeks burned at the thought.
“All right,” she whispered. “Let’s try our best to make me pretty.”
Chapter 2
Hades strode past the river Styx with a cypress branch in his hand. Puffs of sand leapt from every footstep, the ground barren of any plants or trees.
How long had he lived here in the Underworld? He wasn’t certain. Time passed slower here, or perhaps faster in Olympus, who knew? Whenever he slipped into this morose place, he knew the days would seem longer no matter what.
He existed. That was his job here in the Underworld. Ensure everything ran smoothly, make sure the souls were where they were supposed to be and no one got out. He was both king and guard, though neither were the position he would have chosen.
None of this was truly his own choice. This was the doing of his brother, and he wanted none of it. Even centuries later, the thought still made his chest burn with anger.
The cypress branch was tugged in his grip. He followed the long branch to the teeth digging into the wood. There were many marks on the branch already, made by the hound of hell, the most terrifying creature any mortal had ever seen. And many Olympians felt the same way.
“Cerberus,” he chided. “You know better.”
He hadn’t spent centuries training the damned beast for him to act like a puppy again.
Cerberus whined and sat on his haunches. His tongues lolled out of three heads, each one wearing some varying expression of begging even as his massive claws dug into the dark earth.
“Fine,” Hades muttered.
He threw the cypress branch as far as he could. It landed in the middle of a group of spirits. He could barely see their light blue tinge on this side of the Styx, but he rarely took Cerberus away from the opening gates. The dog got nervous when he was too far away from his job.
Of course, Cerberus barely noticed the spirits. He thundered through them to get the branch. They broke apart with shouts of fear and anguish. The hell beast was there to claim their souls. They hadn’t been trying to escape! Lord Hades, save them!
“Yes, yes,” he said, wading through their outstretched hands. “You’re fine, go back to what you were doing. The beast will leave you alone.”