started walking. Maybe I was naive. And overprotected. And if so, then what better way to begin my escape from that shell than to see exactly where these monsters were coming from anyway? Maybe I could help stop them.
It had taken over an hour to get to the caves. Not only was it through scrub and rocks, but it was halfway up a hill and hidden behind a couple boulders. In fact, I almost gave up on finding it entirely, but then I felt the waves of heat. And I followed them until I found the mouth of the cave.
It took a bit of convincing myself, but I finally summoned the courage to go inside. I took one step and then another and entered the blackness.
“Haven’t you heard the rumors? There are monsters around.”
I turned at the sound of the voice even though it was too dark to see. “I’m not scared of monsters,” I said, though my heart went into overdrive.
He laughed. “Really? Then why is your voice shaking?”
Deep breath. Whatever I’d gotten myself into here, I was a goddess. I could handle anything thrown my way. “I’m just cold,” I lied.
Another laugh. “Maybe you should come closer then.”
And I walked closer.
He took one of my hands, and electricity shot though my entire body evaporating any chills or fear trying to hide inside me.
Now, back in his home, I run a hand through Shayne’s inky hair, remembering it was longer when we first met. But otherwise, he looks exactly the same. Immortal. And perfect. “I remember. My mom was furious when she found out.”
Shayne laughs. “And nothing ever changes, does it.”
Things had only gotten worse. “She started the rumor,” I say. “She said you’d kidnapped and raped me.”
“And she turned your friends into Sirens,” Shayne says. “They never got over that.”
They hated me afterward, even Peisinoe, spinning the kidnap and rape story out of control. Everyone believed it.
I shake my head, remembering my mom’s ensuing wrath. The barrenness of the earth for months at a time. The droughts. The ice storms that froze the earth over. That she knew I wanted to be with Hades made her actions all the more extreme.
“My mom never changes,” I say. “But I still don’t get how I’m Persephone and Piper.”
Shayne takes a sip of wine. “And I don’t have that answer.”
“So who does?” I ask.
Shayne sets his glass down on the end table and reaches to pet Cerberus again. “I’d start with your mother or father.”
My memories are coming back, filling in the gaps. “My mother is Demeter.”
Shayne nods. “Who still hates me, I might add.”
“Let her,” I say. I’d much rather spend eternity with Shayne than with my mom. I felt that way from the minute I met Hades so long ago, and it had driven my mom crazy.
Shayne nods, and his eyes flicker red amid the brown. “I will. And how about your father?”
“My father.” I can’t say it. I think of the man from the barbeque dinner. The man whose face looked so much like my own. It’s too much. Too hard to believe.
So Shayne says it for me. “Zeus. King of the gods.”
I work my mind around this fact. My father is the king of the gods. Not the king of Earth or the sea or even of the Underworld like Shayne. He is the king of all other kings. The ruler of everyone and everything. And I am his daughter. Every god on earth should bend toward his will—with
As memories flow back to me, I remember plenty of times when gods defied him. I remember plenty of times when I defied him. But I also remember talking endlessly with him over a campfire or by a mountain lake or in the dense trees of a jungle. My father never told me what to do and when to do it. He gave me advice and let me make my own decisions, so unlike my mom and her domination. She controlled everything from the number of ears of corn a stalk might sprout to how long I could spend in the gardens away from her each day. If nothing has changed with my mom, I’m willing to bet nothing has changed with my father either.
“He made up the thing about the pomegranate,” I say, remembering the story my father told my mom after one of my visits to the Underworld.
Shayne nods. “Definitely a victory for us.”
Zeus lied. That was all there was to it. He made up the whole superstition that food couldn’t be eaten in the Underworld. And that if it was, the person who’d eaten it could never leave again. He told my mom I’d eaten six pomegranate seeds and had to stay in the Underworld one month out of the year for each seed I’d eaten. That she should be thankful I could return at all. That he was doing her a favor.
My mom was livid. She threw Earth into the coldest winter it had seen since the Ice Age. And my mom couldn’t set foot in the Underworld, so Zeus never had to worry about her finding out the truth. I married Hades, and we lived together for half of each year in bliss, while my mom tormented the world above.
“Did she ever find out the truth?” I ask.
Shayne finishes off the rest of his wine. “I can’t imagine who would have ever told her any differently. And she did let you keep coming.”
She did. Even though it pained her each and every time. She adored me all spring and summer and then mourned me when I left. And I endured her all spring and summer, losing myself in the plants and flowers on Earth, and then rejoiced when I departed.
“They’ll have answers,” I say.
Shayne smiles, but there’s a hint of sadness in his dark eyes. “They should. All I know is you’ve been gone from Hell for eighteen years now, and all of the Underworld is suffering as a result.”
My suspicions are confirmed. “Because of me.”
Shayne pushes some of my out-of-control hair behind my ear. “Yeah, because we missed you.”
We walk back to the River Acheron, and it’s as if lenses have been lifted, making a world where I feel comfortable turn into a world where I belong. The Underworld is as much a part of me as Shayne is. Love for it is rooted in all parts of my body. I ache when I think of all the time I’ve spent away. Time in which monsters have grown strong and boundaries have weakened.
When we reach the banks of the river, Charon’s face breaks into a smile. I run over and hug him, never wanting to let him go. He’s been my friend since the first time Hades brought me down here, thousands of years ago. He talked to me when Hades was gone. He listened to me blather on about anything, only stopping me when souls demanded his attention. He treated me like a part of Hell even before I was.
“I’ve missed you so much.” Charon has been like a father to me. I love him as sure as I’m Persephone.
When we pull apart, tears run down his face, and his already milky eyes seem translucent. “And I’ve missed you, my Queen.” He seems to have a hard time getting the words out, and before I can think, he’s hugging me again like he wants to make sure I won’t vanish.
My Queen. I was Queen of the Underworld. I remember walking the fields of Elysium and the meadows of Asphodel by myself, maintaining order and keeping control. And I even remember Tartarus. Delivering punishment to those damned. I think of Sisyphus and Tantalus and Pirithous. Punishment is deserved for evil like theirs.
Tantalus cut up his own son and served him in soup to the gods—to my own mother who actually ate it, which explains her aversion to meat.
Pirithous tried to steal me from the Underworld to make me his bride.
Sisyphus carved up travelers and guests for pleasure, keeping them alive as long as possible to prolong their suffering.
They deserved their fates in Tartarus. And I was happy to ensure their eternal torment. I delivered their sentences with pleasure.
Charon gives my hand a final squeeze and then takes us across the river. I look to the bubbling sorrows, and realize I can see faces with them now, not just hear words. I see Randy Conner’s face with his sadness. I see Councilman Rendon; he wants another chance. I see deaths and miseries and longings, all left behind. But the
