“Thanks, Echo.” I pushed open the door, revealing the transformed garden.
Yeah, this did not feel like home.
I stared out at the wild vines that snaked along the edges of the huge walled garden, temporarily stunned that I’d created this place. It looked like some kind of haunted wonderland, with the brilliant emerald vines and the deep crimson flowers. Despite the dark night, they somehow glowed with color. Gorgeous, if I were honest with myself.
No.
There was something dark about them. I could feel it. As if they represented the worst of my magic—power-hungry and greedy, selfish and vain.
I tried to ignore them as I hurried out into the garden, racing across the space. The pomegranate tree was no longer there, thank fates. Even if I was Persephone, which I was beginning to possibly accept, that was one plant that I couldn’t tolerate.
The sky was dark overhead, casting deep shadows through the garden. I stuck to them, keenly aware that I no longer had free roaming privileges like I had last time. Fortunately, Lucifer was nowhere to be seen. My former shadow was probably off guard-dog duty, since Hades thought I was locked away in the dungeon.
Finally, I reached the apothecary’s cottage. Purple smoke drifted from the tall stone chimney, and the windows glowed with welcoming light.
Quickly, I knocked on the door, whispering loudly. “Open up. It’s me, Seraphia.”
4
Seraphia
After a few agonizing seconds, the door opened to reveal the apothecary. Her straight black hair gleamed in the light, and her brilliant blue eyes glinted with skepticism. She frowned. “Hi.”
“May I come in?”
Her gaze searched the garden behind me, no doubt looking for Hades or Lucifer. Then she relented. “Fine.”
I slipped inside, guilt streaking through me. “I’m sorry if I’m putting you at risk with Hades.”
She shook her head. “It’s fine. He doesn’t know you're here.”
And he’d better not learn, was the subtext.
I nodded, grateful. “He’ll never know.”
“Come in.” She turned, walking deeper into the house.
I followed her into the main room, almost comforted to be back. The room was far bigger than it looked from the outside. Though it was of average dimensions, the ceiling soared a hundred feet overhead. Dried herbs had been hung from the rafters, their scent filling the space. Fairy lights floated high in the air, lighting the place with a warm glow. Bookshelves climbed to the ceiling, stuffed full of volumes I’d love to get my hands on.
“I like your place,” I said.
“Hmm.”
The apothecary was the closest thing I had to a friend in the underworld. That might have been Lucifer once, until I’d hit him with an agonizing potion bomb that had melted his chest. That had probably killed what little camaraderie we’d developed.
“Can I get you a drink?” she asked.
“No,” I said automatically.
“Come on, you’ve already had the pomegranate potion. It’ll be fine.”
She was right. And I really could use one. “I’d kill for a gallon of wine or a case of beer.”
She laughed. “I can do you a glass. You need to keep your wits about you.”
“True enough.”
She disappeared into a room that had to be the kitchen, and I watched the cat who slept by the fire. There was a lot more to that cat than met the eye, if the magic sparking around him was anything to go by.
“Here.” The apothecary returned with the glasses, and I took one.
“Thanks.” I clinked it gently against hers, watching the purple liquid gleam within.
“Underworld wine,” she said. “A little different.”
I took a sip, enjoying the explosion of tart, sweet flavor that burst over my tongue. “It’s good!”
“Just about the only thing that’s good in this godforsaken place.” She collapsed on the long, low couch. “What can I help you with?”
“What’s your name?” I couldn’t help but ask. Maybe it was rude—she clearly hadn’t wanted to tell me all the other times I’d met her. I raised my glass. “We’re drinking together. Surely you can tell me.”
She frowned, gaze flickering. “Names have power.”
I held up a hand. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have asked. I’m sorry.”
She sighed. “It’s Alia.”
I grinned at her. “Thanks, Alia.”
She nodded. “Now, what can I help you with? Because I’m certain you didn’t return to the underworld just to say hi to me.”
“I need help breaking the pomegranate potion’s curse.”
She nodded, sipping the wine. “As I thought. You managed to stay away longer than I expected.”
I gestured to the front door. “Long enough for that to go wild.”
She gave a wry laugh. “It went crazy. I tried to cut it back, but Hades nearly had my head.”
“He what?”
“Wouldn’t let me cut down your garden.”
“That’s…unexpected.”
She huffed a laugh. “You’re telling me. It’s your best defense against him, and he let you keep it.”
“He needs me on his side,” I said.
“He’s not afraid of your strength.”
“He wants to use it. He wants my help.”
“Will you help him?”
“No.” I shook my head. “Not a chance in hell. What he wants to do…well, I need to stop it. At all costs.”
Alia nodded. “I understand.” She tilted her head. “How long ago did you arrive in the underworld?”
I blew out a breath, calculating. “A couple hours ago, at most.”
“Hmm.”
“What do you mean, hmm?”
“Well, the nature of your garden changed right around then. Turned dark.”
“What do you mean?”
“The plants used to be pale green with pink flowers. They smelled of something sweet and fresh—best thing to happen to this place since forever—and were soft to the touch. They still bit occasionally, but they weren’t so vicious.”
My jaw slackened. “And then they became those scary things?”
She nodded. “Yep. The smell went away, and the colors transformed. They must have been responding to the change in you.”
“Damn.” I sipped the wine, my mind racing. “I felt the darkness grow inside me when I arrived back here. It’s a greedy thing, after power and pleasure.”
“Bet it feels great.”
I nodded, sick to my stomach. “It does. Like I’m in control. Invincible. Safe.”
She shook her head. “Hard to resist something like that.”
“I know. Hades doesn’t even try.”
“There’s nothing else for him,” Alia said. “He’s made of the darkness. Literally. Like evil given form. There’s nothing for him to resist because he can’t possibly be any different than he is. There’s no other side of him.”
“You’re wrong,” I blurted.
Her brows shot up. “Really?”