“Someone has a crush.” The smug smirk on Lexa’s face reminded Persephone that she was too focused on what the god looked like and not enough on what he did.
“What? No. No. Look, Hades is handsome. I’m not blind, but I cannot condone what he does.”
“What do you mean?”
Persephone reminded Lexa of what they’d learned from Adonis at Nevernight.
“Well, you could ask Hades about it.”
“We’re not friends, Lexa.”
They would never be friends.
Then Lexa got really excited. “Oh! What if you wrote about him? You could investigate his bargains with mortals! How scandalous!”
It was scandalous—not only because of the content, but because Persephone was considering writing an article about a god, something very few people did for fear of retaliation.
But Persephone wasn’t afraid of retaliation because she didn’t care that Hades was a god.
“Looks like you have another reason to visit Hades,” Lexa said.
It looked like she did, and hadn’t Hades offered her easy access? When he’d pressed his lips to her forehead, he’d said it was for her benefit. She wouldn’t have to knock to enter Nevernight again.
She smiled.
The God of the Underworld would definitely regret meeting the Goddess of Spring—and she looked forward to that day. She was Divine, too. Though she had no power of her own, she could write, and maybe that made her the perfect person to expose him. After all, if anything happened to her, Hades would feel Demeter’s wrath.
***
On her way to class at New Athens University, Persephone stopped to purchase an assortment of bangles. Since she would have to wear Hades’ mark until she fulfilled their contract, she wanted to accessorize her outfits accordingly. Today she wore a stack of pearls, a classic touch to compliment her bright pink skirt and white button up.
Her heels clicked against the concrete sidewalk as the university came into view. Each step meant time was passing, which meant an hour, a minute, a second closer to her return to Nevernight.
Today Hades would take her to the Underworld. She’d stayed up into the night considering how she was to fulfill their contract. She’d asked if he’d wanted her to plant a garden, and he’d shrugged—shrugged—that is one way, he’d said. What was that supposed to mean, and what other ways could she possibly create life? Isn’t that why he’d chosen this challenge? Because she had no power to fulfill the task?
She doubted it was because the Lord Hades wanted beautiful gardens in his desolate realm. He was interested in punishment, after all, and from what she’d heard and witnessed from the god, he did not intend the Underworld to be a place for peace and pretty flowers.
Despite how angry she was with herself and Hades, her emotions were at odds. She was both intrigued and nervous to descend into the god’s realm.
Mostly, though, she was afraid.
What if she failed?
No, she closed her eyes against the thought. She couldn’t fail. She wouldn’t. She would see the Underworld tonight and make a plan. Just because she could not coax a bloom from the ground with magic did not mean she couldn’t use other methods. Mortal methods. She would just have to be careful. She would need gloves—it was that or kill every plant she touched and while the garden ruminated, she would look for other ways to fulfill the contract.
Or break it.
She did not know much about Hades except what her mother and mortals believed about the god. He was private, he did not like intrusions, and he did not like the media.
He was really going to dislike what she had planned for today, and suddenly she had the thought—could she make Hades mad enough that he would release her from this contract?
Persephone passed through the entrance of New Athens University. It was a set of six columns crowned with a piece of pointed stone. Once inside, Persephone found herself in a courtyard. The Library of Artemis rose in front of her, a pantheon-style building that she had taken pleasure in exploring her Freshman year.
Campus was easy to navigate, as it was laid out like a seven-point star—the library being one of the seven points.
Persephone always cut through the center of the star which was the Garden of the Gods, an acre of land full of the favored flowers of the Olympians and marble statues. Though Persephone had walked this path many times to class, today felt different. The garden was like an oppressor, the flowers, enemies, their smells mixing in the air—the thick scent of honeysuckle mingled with the sweet smell of the rose—accosted her senses.
Did Hades expect her to grow something this grand? Would he really sentence her to life in the Underworld if she failed to deliver his request in six months?
She knew the answer. Hades was a strict god. He believed in rules and boundaries, and he’d set them yesterday, not even fearing the threat of her mother’s wrath.
Persephone passed Poseidon's pool, and a towering statue of a very naked Ares with his helm atop his head and shield in hand. It wasn’t the only statue of a naked god in the garden. Normally she gave it little thought, but today her gaze was drawn to the large horns atop Ares’ head. Her own felt heavy under the glamour she wore. She’d heard a rumor when she moved to New Athens that horns were the source of the Divine’s power. Persephone wished that were true. It wasn’t even about having power now. It was about freedom.
“It’s just that the Fates have chosen a different path for you, my flower.” Demeter had said when Persephone’s magic never manifested.
“What path?” Persephone asked. “There is no path, only the walls of your glass prison! Do you keep me hidden away because you are ashamed?”
“I keep you safe because you have no power, my flower. There is a difference.”
Persephone still wasn’t sure what sort of path the Fates had decided for her, but she knew she could be safe without being imprisoned, and she guessed at some point, Demeter had agreed, because she’d let Persephone ago—albeit, on a long leash.
“Mother,” she said.
Demeter appeared beside her daughter. She wore a human glamour. It was not something she often did. It wasn’t that Demeter disliked mortals—she was incredibly protective of her followers—she merely knew her status as a goddess. Demeter’s mortal mask was not so different from her Divine appearance. She kept the same smooth hair, the same bright green eyes, the same luminous skin, but her antlers were veiled. She chose a fitted emerald dress and gold heels. To onlookers, she had all the appearances of a sharp businesswoman.
“What are you doing here?” Persephone asked.
“Where were you yesterday?” Demeter’s voice was curt.
“It sounds like you already think you know the answer,” she replied. “So why don’t you tell me?”
“Do not treat this with sarcasm, my dear. This is very serious—why were you at Nevernight?”
Persephone tried to keep her heart from racing.
“How do you know I was at Nevernight?”
Did a nymph see her?
“Never mind how I knew. I asked you a question.”
“I went for work, mother. I must return today, too.”
“Absolutely not,” she said. “Need I remind you a condition of your time here was that you stay away from the gods. Especially Hades.”