Asphodel (6 page)

“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 our trip 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 on the 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 it whipped 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 ride on 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, the minute 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 and very 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 feeling that 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 I know 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 doing what 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 death and 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 need a 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 and physically 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, nestled comfortably between my warm blanket and fluffy pillows. An overwhelming sense of security fills me up and I drift away into dreamland. A place where anything and everything is possible.

Hades

H
ades was convinced that Demeter wasn’t as smart as she made herself out to be. He stood across the street from her house, watching in amusement 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 farther away 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 did that…

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. He had 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 that limited 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 up a 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 something he 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 on her 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 brushed his 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 and dead.

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 of him 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 her since.

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 element frolicking 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 any moment 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 and I 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. I love 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 from lunch, 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. I feel 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 dissipates the 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 puff of 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 smattering of 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 smoke is 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 am everywhere,” 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. Or maybe 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 five thousand 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 a trance.

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 of nowhere, 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 and muscle. 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 time coldness.

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. Then he 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 vital organ 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’s cold, 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 blue eyes 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 other part 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 him to 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 to glimpse 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 I know 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 my room. “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 should hurry 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 out your 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 never looked 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 her hips, 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 is moodier 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 to fight, but I do remember Ares tackling his brother, knocking one of the tiki torches over, and setting the whole table of food on fire.