That Fatal Kiss (35 page)

“My apologies,” Hermes offered with uncustomary formality.

“No harm done,” Persephone said, avoiding his eyes.

After a brief, uneasy silence, during which Hermes fidgeted with and then finally removed his traveling helmet, he asked, “What were you about to say?”

“Oh! Well…I was just going to…to thank you….” The last thing she felt was thankful for being torn away from Hades, but she could think of nothing else to say to forestall the declaration Hermes was almost certainly about to make.

Hermes stepped closer. He lowered his voice to whisper into her ear, “It was my pleasure to come to your rescue.”

Persephone nodded, then looked away from the love-light pouring forth from his eyes. “I had better go to my mother now,” she said, thinking she could surely be expected to tackle only one disaster at a time.

The Messenger God snatched up her hand and placed a wet kiss into her palm. “Of course. I shall return the chariot to that hideous fiend below.”

Nostrils flaring at the superior tone that accompanied the insult, Persephone gave another brusque nod but made no reply. She let out a sigh of relief when Hermes took himself off and hoped the reunion with Demeter would not prove too taxing upon her already shaky nerves. Squaring her shoulders, Persephone made haste to join her family.

Feeling aloof from her surroundings, Persephone bore Artemis’ frenetic embraces patiently, her eyes fixed on her mother’s face. She waited until the platinum-haired goddess released her and then walked into Demeter’s open arms. Their embrace was long, hearty, and Persephone’s eyes closed as she breathed in her mother’s perfume, enjoying the familiar and comforting scent. She almost wished she could take that scent and wrap it around her, as a shield from the turbulence she knew was to come. But even as she feared her disclosure’s aftermath, she found herself eager to get it out.

As if she somehow knew her daughter’s restive thoughts, Demeter pulled back slightly. Her amber eyes gazed into their mirrors, and the beatific smile she wore faltered. Noting the subtle hardening of Persephone’s expression, Demeter said, “You are changed.”

Persephone pressed her lips together to hold back a sudden urge to cry. “I am.”

The air stilled about them and all was silent as mother beheld daughter. Athena broke the growing tension by pulling Persephone out of her mother’s grasp and embracing her as well. Feeling empowered by her sister’s welcome, Persephone squeezed her hard, whispering so only Athena could hear, “Hades is the one for me.” As they pulled apart, Athena nodded her understanding and allowed Hestia to greet Persephone in her turn.

“Dearest Aunt, I am amazed that you’ve left the warmth of your fires!” Persephone said. She affected a casual air and fanned herself with one hand. “Though I vow, it is remarkably hot here in Sicily, isn’t it?”

“Persephone!” Artemis said. “You used to bask in the heat here! You said the Heavens were too drafty and cold for you!”

“And so they are,” Persephone said, glad to have her sister’s annoying dedication to the literal at hand to distract her from her anxiety. “But I cannot believe I enjoyed such an arid heat.”

“That’s understandable,” Hecate said, pulling Persephone toward her for a hug. “The air below ground being damp and mild, the atmosphere above feels uncomfortable to you now.”

At the mention of the Underworld, Hestia’s brows furrowed with concern and she asked her niece, “How do you fare, dear?”

“Very well, I thank you, Aunt.” As if to prove her a liar, her stomach, hardly assuaged by the meager meal she partook of earlier, growled so loudly that it drowned out the end of Persephone’s sentence. The others laughed at the sound and Demeter gave a broad smile of satisfaction.

“Goodness, you must be starving!” Demeter said, clapping her hands together. “Let’s go home and feed you! I’ve had a great feast prepared, with all of your favorite foods, and have even deigned to welcome Dionysus’ wines to our table! Come, come, I am eager to see you dine well!” But instead of reaching for her daughter, the Grain Goddess grabbed hold of Hestia’s arm and strode purposefully forward. She headed for where the chariots were stationed and did not look back to see if the rest followed, but whispered animatedly into her forbearing sister’s ear.

Persephone wondered why her mother had not latched onto her, demanding to hear every detail regarding her time in Erebus, then realized that Demeter was afraid to ask. Somehow, her mother knew she would not like the telling and hoped to avert it. Persephone and Athena exchanged meaningful glances as they made to follow Demeter. Hecate fell into step with them while Artemis went before them, walking backwards to ask Persephone, “Come now, your mother cannot hear you. Tell us how it was, you poor thing!”

Rolling her eyes, Persephone pointed out archly, “You seem awfully keen to hear of my purported distress, Sister.”

“Well, of course I am!” the Huntress cried. “I shudder to think that the Host of Many would dare to claim one of us for his bride! It must have been awful for you, being torn away from us and forced to dwell with that atrocious creature! And just look at the state of you!”

Uncomprehending, Persephone looked down at herself and realized that she hadn’t done as good a job with post-battle clean up as she’d thought.

“What has that monster done to you?” Artemis demanded, then her eyes widened. “Did he…did he rape you?”

“I am sorry to disappoint you, when you are obviously hoping to hear all sorts of lurid accounts of my captivity, but the answer to that question is no.”

“No?” Artemis echoed.

Persephone glared at her. “No! Forgive us both for falling so dismally short of your prurient expectations.”

“Oh, but…how can I believe you?” the Huntress persisted, oblivious to the pointed looks both Athena and Hecate gave her. “Why did he abduct you if he did not mean to rape you?”

Persephone’s self-control snapped at her sister’s hounding. “Does it not occur to you, you blistering boil of a twit, that what you inquire after is absolutely none of your concern? Be gone, pest, or keep silent. You’re liable to split my head open with your banalities!”

Artemis drew herself up indignantly. “I had better take myself off, then, as I see your husband’s ill temper has rubbed off on you!” And like a fawn, the Goddess of the Hunt darted down the mountainside.

“And good riddance!” Hecate said, throwing a white arm around Persephone. “Now, in what deviant sexual practices have you indulged that you look such a mess?”

Ignoring the provocative query, Persephone said, “Hecate, I’ve so much to tell you and Athena.” The goddess summarized the day’s events, concluding with, “But you must never allow to anyone that Hades and I conquered Typhon.”

“Indeed not,” Athena agreed, grinning. “My father would be in such a snit if he knew.”

Persephone laughed. “Yes, best that he continue believing it was his might which took care of the creature, and not others’.”

“But then,” Hecate said, “if you two were reconciled, why not send me a message to keep silent regarding your whereabouts?”

“I completely forgot,” Persephone admitted. “And though I cannot be happy to be away from Hades now, I do wish to thank you for honoring me by taking quick action upon my request. You torment me like a thousand nettles clinging to my skin, but you love me as I love you. Thank you, dear friend.”

Hecate blushed, then clicked her tongue. “Never mind all that maudlin nonsense. You were not ready to return above, then?”

“I was not. Though perhaps it’s best that things turned out this way.”

Athena too slipped an arm around Persephone’s back, saying in a low voice, “I am pleased to see that you have found yourself well mated.”

“I thank you, Pallas. But how Mother will be put out at not having hand-picked him herself.”

“I would venture she will be more put out by the fact that, despite her best efforts to the contrary, you will be making your home in Erebus after all,” Athena said.

“Uranus’ festering wounds,” Persephone swore. “What I shall have to endure for the partaking of a few paltry seeds.”

Hecate squealed, causing Demeter and Hestia to look back at them curiously. “Quiet, Witch, do you want to give me away?” Persephone admonished the white-haired goddess.

“You had not told me you’d eaten!” Hecate said in a loud whisper.

“I had not until today,” Persephone whispered back with equal intensity, then recounted what happened when Hermes arrived in Erebus.

“Then it was his confession of love that decided you?” Athena asked.

“Not only that, though it was not his first declaration of love.”

“Was it that he learned what a brat you are and still wanted you?” the Witch asked.

Persephone gave Hecate a light blow to her midriff. “That was certainly a point in his favor,” she answered, smiling in spite of herself. “I cannot say it was any one thing which resolved me. His actions showed that he truly cared for me. When asked to forbear, he did. When faced with a difficult decision, he turned to me for counsel. Where other males would have sought only their own pleasure, he worked to achieve mine as well.” Remembering her enforced stint in Tartarus, she smiled again. “Of course, I did not always care for the way he resolved our conflicts but, for the most part, he did what my mother has never, ever done.”

“What’s that, then?” Hecate asked with interest.

“He acknowledged my autonomy. Though he took me against my will, in the end, he owned that only I could decide where I would make my home. He even confessed to needing me to
teach
him though, in truth, it was I who learned so much from him.” She was quiet for a moment. “You know, my mother said she wanted me to have a husband who would look after me. And I’d wanted someone who would do everything in his power to please me, always, whatever the cost. Little by little, I recognized Hades as that someone, but by that time, I’d come to a somewhat different understanding of love.”

“And what is your understanding now, Kore?” Athena asked.

“I knew that I loved Hades when I wanted to exert myself for
his
benefit. When I thought of him coming to harm in our battle against Typhon, when he and his happiness were at risk, I felt an overwhelming need to do everything in my power to secure both. I see now that the greater part of love lies not in being served, but in serving…” Persephone broke off at that point, as they’d neared the chariots that waited to bear them back to Olympus.

“Then all that remains,” Hecate said, “is for you to apprise your mother of your decision.”

But Demeter proved to be difficult to pin down for discussion. Once they arrived at her home on Olympus, she busied herself with their celebratory feast and studiously avoided her daughter’s best efforts to speak with her privately. Seeing that Demeter was somehow wise to her intent and unwilling to aid it, Persephone knew the declaration would have to be made in front of the others. After they ate their fill, they lounged in their chairs, the servants refilling their goblets with nectar even before they were emptied.

Hestia reached across the table to grasp Persephone’s hand affectionately. “I expect you are relieved to have broken your long fast at last!”

Persephone saw something flicker in her mother’s eyes and decided that the time had come to speak. “Well, I do feel better, dear Aunt, now that I’ve eaten so well. But the truth is, I…I already broke my fast earlier today. In Erebus.”

The cup Demeter raised to her lips slipped from her hand and tumbled to the ground. She looked at Persephone in silent shock. Persephone felt her stomach roll but held her mother’s gaze.

“Can it be true?” Demeter asked, her features drawing into severe lines. “Hades was not content to take you from me but forced you to bind yourself to him eternally?”

Keeping in mind her mother’s grief, Persephone said as gently as she could, “He didn’t force me, Mother.”

At that, Demeter leapt to her feet, towering over the table. “What are you saying?”

Also gaining her feet, Persephone steeled herself against her mother’s anger and explained, “I am saying that I am happy to accept Hades as my husband.”

Demeter began to pace about the chamber. “No, it cannot be. You cannot wish to return to that place and its dark Lord, when you were raised in light.”

“That which is dark is not by nature evil. You should know him better than that.”

“I don’t care to know him better!” Demeter said. “I cannot forgive his utter disregard for your wishes and am appalled that you should do so, and so readily!”

“You mean,” Persephone corrected with some heat, “you cannot forgive his disregard for
your
wishes, as I am telling you what my wishes are and you seem to take no notice of them!”

Demeter paused in her movements to stare at her in disbelief. “You never spoke to me that way before.”

“I have never been so moved.”

“What evil magic has he wrought upon you?”

“Mother—”

“Nay, you cannot, can
not
mean what you say!” Demeter shouted, throwing her hands in the air. “Your reason is clouded by…by mistreatment, by fear, by
something
, only you can not mean that you wish to leave me for him!”

Persephone was spared from having to reply as Hermes chose that moment to burst into the room. “All of you must come quickly,” he said, “Zeus has called for the gods to assemble in his throne room, immediately.”

“Why?” Hecate asked.

“Hades says he will be here by nightfall to reclaim Persephone. I must hurry as he is soon to arrive and I’ve yet to summon the others.”

Demeter watched his speedy retreat then shot Persephone a scathing glare. “We shall now see who walks away the victor,” she said, setting out briskly for Zeus’ palace.

“I had better accompany her,” Hestia said, patting Persephone’s arm as she passed her. “Take heart, dear. You have given her a blow from which she will need some time to recover. It’ll work out well in the end, you’ll see.”

Persephone smiled her thanks and waited for her aunt to leave before she exploded. “Great Gaia’s girdle, that went well!” She sank back into her seat, rubbing roughly against the fierce pounding within her temples.