“I promised Persephone they would be well.”
He glances at me. “When will you go to Olympus, my Lord?”
Freezing, I stop on the path and stare at Minox. He stops as well and meets my gaze, his expression placid. Only a flicker of emotion in his eyes gives away that he does not know how he has mis-stepped.
“What did you say?”
“I asked when you planned to go to Olympus.”
“I cannot go to Olympus. You know that.”
He inclines his head, agreeing. “You cannot freely go to Olympus.”
“What do you mean, I cannot freely go to Olympus? Of course I cannot freely go to Olympus. That has always been the case.”
He swallows thickly, perhaps doubting himself. “My Lord, forgive me. I thought this was a possibility you might have discussed with Hecate.”
“Hecate.” I practically whisper her name as Minox’s suggestion races through my mind. I am damned and condemned, cursed and yet blessed to rule the Underworld. Day in and day out I must stay, for I am needed and the divine law requires each of the ruling gods to be bound to their territory. Zeus to Olympus and the mortal realm, Poseidon to the seas, and myself to the Underworld. Hecate, the keeper of the keys, knows this law well. She was present for its creation.
“Yes,” Minox says slowly, concern in his eyes. “Hecate is bound to return to the Underworld for Diepnon, but she may travel freely between the realms during the hours and days around it. She prioritizes magic and such over law… It is perhaps a conversation…” he trails off.
With anxiousness racing through me and my mind whirling with the possibilities, I turn away from Minox and stride down the path. He waits only a moment before following me. Up ahead, Cerberus reappears on the path, a stick in his middle head’s mouth. He tears toward me, proud of himself. I bend down and take the stick, then hurl it ahead. Cerberus goes after it, barking and barking.
Minox glides up next to me. “My Lord.”
“I did not have such conversations with Hecate,” I admit to him. I question Hecate’s reception to such things. My heart pounds. “When Hecate was in the Underworld. That is not what we discussed.”
“Ah,” Minox says with a slight nod of understanding.
“There is no favor I will not ask of Hecate, or any god, Titan, or mortal, if it means I may have my queen by my side.”
“Do you plan to discuss it with her then?”
“Gather those who may know where she is; tell Hecate I need to speak with her urgently. I will scry if she does not wish to return to the Underworld. I am amenable.”
“Yes, my Lord,” says Minox and glides away more quickly than he came. Though I cannot be sure I saw correctly, I believe there is a trace of a smile on his face as he goes.
Persephone
The darkest of nights allowed for me to creep about before any soul knew I’d returned. With the morning light, I prepare to see my mother first. Nervousness pricks the tips of my fingers. I imagine she realized I left of my own free will and that those who carry whispers from the Underworld to Olympus would tell her I sat by his side and ruled.
The soft breeze blows a stray hair from my face as I look out into the pale blue sky leading the way for the sunrise. My mother is not so easily seen from my rooms, but I can see her tending to a garden. Her sage robes are adorned with a wheat wreath. She grows poppies and plucks them into a wicker basket. I imagine the spell she wishes to cast knowing the properties of poppies. The color matters of course. And the deep red narrows it down. It won’t be for sleep or dreams as those would be blue. Love, fertility, or a prophetic dream if she places them under her pillow.
My heart breaks wondering if it’s a spell for me. If it is, I hope she knows her magic is powerful, but I’d always return to her without the pull of her spell.
“My queen!” Beatrice cries from behind me, startling me and pulling me from my thoughts. With a quiet gasp, she shuts the door to my rooms hastily behind her. “You have returned,” she rushes the words out with disbelief.
“I have—” I swallow the lump in my throat and regain my composure. “I didn’t plan to be long; I do wish I’d had more time and thought so I could have prepared you.”
She bows her head, her hands clasped together and pressing against the cotton apron she wears over her simple cotton gown that falls to the floor. “All is well now that you are home,” she responds with ease. When she lifts her gaze to me, I note the dark circles, and guilt rises once again for leaving in secret. I know she worried. So many left with questions. I will do everything in my power to never do that again.
“What can I prepare for you my lady? Tea, nectar, or wine?” she offers.
There isn’t a thing I care to eat or drink until I’ve spoken to the one person who I’m certain I’ve hurt worse than Beatrice by leaving unannounced. “I saw my mother in the garden. Will she be in soon?”
“No.” Beatrice’s eyes go wide. Her fingers tug on one another as she speaks. “She’s been tending to the gardens since she discovered you were not here.”
I give her an apologetic look and take her hand. “Is everything all right?”
