I paused with the trident partway to my mouth and fought not to visualize the gruesome picture she’d painted.
“No. I think I’ll let you digest it all while we talk about something less grisly.”
She nodded and dug into her stew. I was a little less enthusiastic taking my next bite and looked around the room. My gaze landed on the thrones in front of us. Particularly, the thorn throne that Zotera had said she’d made with her bare hands.
“Does your magic only work on food?” I asked.
“No,” she said sadly. “I can only change things that are not living. I’m sorry Father removed that gift.”
I wasn’t sure what she meant by that and decided not to ask why he’d removed a power. The answer would probably have something to do with Persephone mistreating Zotera in some way.
“If you have the ability to change things, why did you lose your fingernails making that throne?” I asked instead.
Zotera paused eating and tilted her head while watching me like she didn’t understand the question.
“You said my magic makes me too soft, and I should never use it without permission. Before you left, you told me to make a throne that embodies how you feel about your place here; and if I loved you, I would use nothing but my hands to create it. So, that’s what I did. It’s made from ebony. I didn’t use my teeth, only my fingers. Do you like it?”
Did I like what Zotera had spent ages creating out of devotion to her mother? No. I hated everything about it from the way it looked to how it came to be. But I couldn’t say any of that to the poor creature beside me.
“You’ve given so much to a woman who isn’t deserving of your love and devotion.”
“You are deserving, Mother.”
I wondered what Zotera would do when she found out Persephone had died. While Zotera didn’t come across as unstable as Hades, her complete adoration of the person who created her might make her just as dangerous to me.
“You look unhappy, Mother. Would you like me to change the throne? Start fresh?”
Realizing I was still frowning at the chair, I focused on our table. While Persephone’s seat beside Hades’ throne represented all that was horrible about Hell, it meant something to Zotera; and I refused to take that away from her. But I also needed her to see that suffering for someone who demanded it wasn’t a form of love. It was depraved. How could I show her what kind of relationship she should have had with her mother when I couldn’t even remember my own?
Considering her mother was dead and I had no desire to fill her shoes, no matter how much I looked like her, I settled on trying to show Zotera what it meant to be a friend. Talking and being nice to her was a good start, but I needed something more interactive and positive than that.
I thought back to the time I’d baked brownies—the chocolate kind, not the kind that flew—with Megan and Eliana. We’d had fun working together.
Realizing that Zotera was watching me with a worried frown, I looked up from the table and gave her a small smile.
“I admire the dedication you put into finishing that chair. However, I think there’s a better way we can put your artistic talent to use. But let’s finish eating first.”
She gave me a tentative smile and tipped her bowl toward me so I could see she’d already emptied it. I hurried to finish the last few bites of mine then left the table.
“The thorns on the chairs look so realistic,” I said, moving to the first replica of me. “What else do you know how to make?”
“Anything you wish, Mother.”
I patted the wood. “Show me. Change this into something you think is beautiful.”
“It’s already something I think is beautiful.”
“How about something pretty that doesn’t look like me?”
She gazed thoughtfully at the wooden pillar then reached out to touch it. The wood’s shape shifted into a gruesome replica of Creon with bugs crawling into his nose and out of his ears. A shudder wracked through me before I could stop it.
“I can do better,” Zotera said quickly.
“Maybe something a little less tortured and more peaceful,” I suggested.
A very large snake spiraled its way up the trunk of a tree, its mouth and forked tongue becoming a holder for the torch. It was only a step better than looking at myself in some form of horror.
“That’s a very realistic snake. Do you know any other animals?”
