Zeus looks out at the light beyond the throne hall and considers the skyline as if it might give him answers. When has the sky ever done that? It is always Zeus, alone in his rooms or with whatever nymph is in his bed, who decides whether the sun will rise and set.
Zeus is a god with so much power that he has forgotten what it means to exist with others. He is only concerned with making all the realms bend to his ego, with no threats to his power. Every god who exists has their own magic, and within it the possibility of having more power than any other. It merely depends on the time and situation.
I’m just as much of a fool as anyone else who has gone to his bed. I thought our daughter would be the exception.
I thought Zeus would have seen the gift she is and understood that she has always been more concerned with the mortals who pray to her. Persephone did not want his throne. She is not like Athena, a strategist of war. She is brave and beautiful in her own way, but she was not a threat, he turned her into one. He forced her into that role. This is his fault! There’s nothing but frustration in ruling over other gods, who fight and plot against each other, and who will do so for all eternity. Gods never change their ways!
And here is Zeus, sitting on his throne, the same as he ever was, telling me to be patient. Telling me to let her go.
It would be safer for him, no doubt. It would make him feel more comfortable if his daughter wasn’t here to remind him that she still exists and now she’s more powerful than he could have ever known she’d be. All his doing. Irony is a lost art form.
“Do you have an answer?” I demand, stalking closer to his throne. My fingers stretch before me and then ball into a fist as I walk forward. It’s an attempt to keep the magic at bay. To ease the build-up of agony so it may not burst into rage and disaster. “What standing do you have? Who are you to make this decision for her? For me?”
“I am?—”
“It does not matter what you say!” I cut him off in a hiss. “You have no standing! There’s no one in any realm who would agree that you have the right to betray me and your daughter as you have!”
“I am god of the gods, and I have done wrong,” he says and his voice is barely raised. He glanced at me, sullen, playing with his beard like he has only just discovered it is there. “I only weakened?—”
“And what was the point? What was the goal? It wasn’t only to weaken her! It was to send her to the Underworld dead?—”
“The mortal realm, first,” Zeus corrects. Rage heats my blood. How dare he! Was I to say goodbye to her, powerless as she aged in my arms? The very idea forces my throat to close and my shoulders to hunch in sorrow.
“The mortal realm!” I shout at him. I’ve long lost any desire to be composed. The last months have taken from me any pride I ever owned. “You wished to send her to the mortal realm. Who was to be next? Me? What other gods do you fear so much that you must sneak poison into the wine?”
“No one,” Zeus answers, his voice going soft but with a tinge of warning. That is the sign of his anger getting the better of him. Good. Be angry. Allow this war to truly begin. “And I will make the same argument to you, Demeter. You do not have the right to decide for all the realms that they should suffer and die. You cannot destroy the mortal realm and throw all the realms out of balance. You are not the only one who dwells here, either.”
“I know I am not. I hear the prayers of the mortals and answer them, unlike you, who only hears prayers and people when they are convenient.”
He rises from his throne. “If only I were free to focus on the mortal realm,” he shoots back. “If only I had that kind of leeway, to leave this realm behind and lavish all my attention?—”
“Is this really about that?” Zeus. A god with such powers. Such influence! He sits on a throne in the grandest halls on Olympus. “Surely you will not complain that I didn’t pay you enough attention after you were finished with me!”
“That, Demeter, is where you are mistaken.” He moves toward me, pointing, his face red with fury. “I was not finished with you then. I am finished with you now. I will not have?—”
“Your daughter alive and well?” I snap.
“I will not have the realms in chaos. I will not have you causing havoc in the mortal realm and disturbing all the other gods. I will not have Hades raging in the Underworld over one?—”
“Do not!” I point into his face as well. “Do not say that Persephone is only a girl! Only a daughter! She is greater than you will ever be!”
The sky cracks with lightning as Zeus raises his voice.
“She will be nothing if this does not end. I will make it so, Demeter. Mark my words, I will?—”
“You’ll do what?” I press him. “What justice do you offer when you’re responsible. Does it irk you so that you’ve given her more power by attempting to snuff her magic out?”
The sound of the unfamiliar voice raises from behind us and a chill runs through me. Zeus and I both turn at once. This voice is not one that can be found on Olympus. Never. He has never set foot on Olympus before.
It is not possible. A depth of coldness paralyzes me as my eyes land on the tall dark figure. His black crown sharp and the tips lit with fire.
There is Hades, with Hecate at his side, standing at the threshold. My heart breaks with the vision of Hecate. How could she allow this? The sight of Hades, though, consumes my attention; he reminds me of what Zeus did to her. Her capture in the dead of night. Justice must be granted. The lone truth whispers in the back of my tormented mind.
Athena focuses her attention on Zeus as I’m distracted. “You are threatening her again?” she calls, her voice clear. More faces crowd the edge of the hall. More gods. More goddesses. Many of those who dwell on Olympus. Those who will bear witness. The whispers and murmurs fill the space as I suffocate staring at Hades, his dark eyes meeting mine.
“That is not the way we settle things,” Athena continues. “That is not the way we will settle this matter, or it will never end.”
“I do not think it needs to come to this.” Aphrodite follows Athena, offering a soothing gesture. Others come behind her. While Athena makes her way to Zeus, Aphrodite comes to me and takes my hands. “Demeter, please. No harm came to Persephone, in the end. It was a game, really?—”
