Persephone's Orchard (The Chrysomelia Stories) (42 page)

He had to know if Persephone was safe. That was his central burning thought as he sped the horses toward her village. Damn his pride and idiocy. Hermes was right: Hades and Persephone only had a limited number of years they could be together before age took her away, and Hades wanted her with him for as many of those years as she could spare. If she was still alive, not killed beneath a collapsed stone roof or chimney, he would tell her he loved her, even if she turned him down. Silence on the matter was no longer an option.

And if she was in fact dead? Fear and grief gripped his throat.

Then he’d still tell her. In the Underworld, where her soul would be. She could be there now. Perhaps she would even consent to stay there and keep him company a while before being reborn…

He landed near the site of Demeter and Persephone’s house and switched realms. Their house stood intact, a scattered pile of firewood being the only sign of the earthquake. But it was silent, no one inside. Glancing at the sun, he found the morning farther advanced than he had realized. The earth rumbled again, gently, sending a quiet aftershock across the fields. He ran faster to the village, where he was grateful to note minimal damage and injuries. Catching the attention of an old woman walking by, he inquired after the lovely local goddess and her daughter.

“They’re off to the festival, like all the young folk,” she told him with a salacious chuckle. “Saw them heading out after the quake, looking fine indeed.”

He nearly melted with relief. He thanked her, tugging a ruby off his cloak’s hem and placing it in her palm, then dashed off again. He wheeled the horses back toward the Underworld.

He’d still tell Persephone he loved her. Absolutely, no question. But this was the spring equinox. The least he could do was bathe and put on fresh clothes first. An armful of her favorite flowers from the Underworld wouldn’t hurt, either.

P
ERSEPHONE WAS FRANTIC.
She moved across the sunny meadow as fast as her limp allowed, her hair and gown adorned with flowers, her hands picking blossoms from the grass and thrusting them into her basket. On her red cloak she could smell the incense from the morning’s opening ceremony, after which the priestess—with the special sanction of Aphrodite, beside her—had set the youths free. The day was meant to be dedicated to people chasing each other, letting themselves get caught by those they liked, securing marriage vows, or just fooling around together. A bonfire and feast would follow tonight in the clearing near the village, with amorous activity continuing out in the dark forests and fields. It was the most felicitous and raucous celebration of the year, and this was the first time Persephone had chosen to participate. But she couldn’t bend her mind to any feeling except panic.

She had split off from the group and angled across this meadow in the hopes of finding Hermes or Aphrodite or some other immortal. She needed someone to take her to the Underworld to make sure Hades was all right. If the earthquake had caved in the tunnels, and the whole hill of rock had fallen upon him—good Goddess, even an immortal couldn’t move that mass. He could be pinned there in agony, and who knew how long before anyone could get him out?

She hadn’t dared even mention Hades to Demeter, let alone ask her to go there. Her mother had checked the house for damage, declared it sound, and shooed Persephone off to the festival to enjoy herself. Meanwhile, Demeter set off to visit the nearby villages to see if anyone needed a broken bone set or a wall re-erected.

Persephone suspected herself of overreacting. Earthquakes carried a strong terror for her, given her childhood injuries. But the Underworld surely was protected by its magic and could never be damaged, not even by a big earthquake, which this had not been, compared to the one from her childhood. Even so, she would not rest easy until she knew he was safe.

No. She couldn’t rest then either. It was time to be honest. What the rumbling of the ground this morning had told her was plain: her greatest fear was losing Hades. If Adonis were killed, she would be sad, but not agonized like this. She didn’t love Adonis. She loved Hades, and one way or another, she would tell him.

Her peace with Demeter, the comfort of aging with one’s mate, the possibility of bearing her own children—she was willing to throw all that away for the Underworld and its quiet king. Goddess forgive her.

She reached the edge of the meadow, where a forest of oaks and olives took over. A red violet caught her eye, already plucked and lying across the strands of grass. She picked it up and examined it, then brought it to her nose. The Underworld was the only place she’d ever seen such a flower. Nearby she spotted another one, lying plucked like the first. She gathered that too, moving closer to the trunk of a large oak. At its base lay a showy purple narcissus. She stooped and picked it up. She glanced around in confusion; then, with a sudden hopeful suspicion, she looked up into the tree.

Hades, seated high above her on a branch, grinned shyly and waved. In his hand he held a bouquet of Underworld flowers. He leaped out of the tree and landed in front of her—a fall that would have broken the ankle of a mortal man, but which he performed with catlike strength and grace.

“Hello,” he said. “I climbed the tree to look around, and when I saw you coming, I thought I’d lure you in with these.”

She laughed and took the bouquet as he offered it to her. “Thank you—oh, I’m so glad to see you.” Heedless of the flowers, she threw herself forward and hugged him. “The earthquake—I thought—if you’d been crushed under the mountain or something—never mind, it’s stupid. Of course the Underworld wouldn’t cave in, and you’re immortal, but I was worried.”

He held her, stroking her braided hair. “You were worried? Not half as worried as me. I flew straight to your house, but you were already gone and the neighbors assured me you were all right. So I came here.”

He had rushed all the way to her house to check on her? His cloak felt clean and fresh against her cheek, and the narcissus tucked into his gold crown smelled delicious. Was he spruced up for the equinox festival? For…her? She drew back to look at him, then lowered her gaze, arranging the flowers in her basket. “So you do care a bit after all?”

His face grew grave. “What did your mother tell you? I have to know.”

Her cheeks warmed with a blush, but determination carried her forward. “She said you knew I loved you, and that you were sorry but you weren’t interested. And that’s all right. But I want you to know, I—”

Hades’ angry growl cut her off. Planting hands on his hips, he scowled across the field. “Hermes was right. Gods, I’m an idiot.” He looked at her. “You do know she told me the same thing in reverse—that
you
weren’t interested, and wanted to stay away from
me
.”

Persephone stared at him. It made perfect sense. She had suspected it without wanting to believe it, but now… “
Damn
her!” Persephone threw down her basket. Flowers spilled across the ground. She stormed back and forth. “How could she?”

“I do see her point. There are dangers for you…”

“Damn the danger, and damn you too if you think I’m that cowardly! I’ve thought through all the problems, and found ways around most of them, and I’m willing to ignore the rest.” She stopped in front of him. “So forget those. Tell me the truth. Did you want me to go away?”

“Never,” he said softly.

Her heart pounded. “I didn’t want to leave you. Mother was right, I loved you—I still do. I’ve tried to love Adonis, but I can’t—I don’t—”

She was saved from having to explain further by Hades pulling her forward and kissing her. She twined her arms around him, and they staggered a few steps to the tree. Hades leaned back on it, lifting her off the ground. Her mind was ablaze; her body suddenly felt light and free of pains. They kissed each other’s mouths, necks, shoulders, until the kisses smoothed away all the turmoil caused by words and wasted time.

Finally he let her slide down until her feet met the ground. “I love you,” he said at last, his voice quiet and rough. “And if you marry Adonis or anyone else, they’ll start calling me the god of insane jealousy, as well as the god of the dead.”

“We must make sure that doesn’t happen.” She slid a fingertip down his nose and chin and chest. “Oh, dear, Mother will think I’m with Adonis today. Too bad.”

His eyes took on a naughty sparkle. “Poor boy. Where will he be, then? Nursing his broken heart?”

“His heart won’t break over me. We were classmates, that’s all. I’m sure he’ll be with Aphrodite if he needs any consoling. Or any of the hundred other girls who have their eye on him.”

Hades stroked her bare shoulder where her cloak had fallen back, and touched the crown of flowers in her hair. “Then why did you make yourself look so beautiful, and come to this festival?”

She flicked her fingernail against his gold crown. “Well, why did
you
?”

Catching her around the waist, he drew her close again. He kissed her ear and neck in a way that sent heat rushing through her. “I was going to steal you away if I had to. Don’t you know how you’ve tortured me? Being so brilliant and gorgeous, living alongside me, then leaving me…taunting me with lessons on seduction with other men…”

Persephone took hold of his hips and pulled herself tight against them. “I didn’t want him. It was you I thought of, during all of it.” She kissed his mouth, their tongues meeting for a moment. “I only wanted to learn it for you. I thought you were beautiful when I was sixteen and saw you at Aphrodite’s.”

“Two years ago today,” he murmured. “I’ve wanted you from that same moment. Oh, how we’ve wasted our time.”

Abandoning the task of bringing her flowers back to the village to help decorate for the festival, Persephone left the overturned basket on the ground and moved deeper into the forest with Hades.

“Oaks,” he noted, glancing at the trees. “Good. Won’t be easy for the others to track us.”

The sun broke through the thin white layer of clouds and warmed the air. Persephone and Hades removed their cloaks and spread them on the ground as a blanket. There they lay, kissing and touching, speaking throughout, enraptured with the luxury of being in total honesty with each other at last.

They untied their belts and flung them out of the way, and unpinned and pulled aside each other’s clothes to give their hands more room to explore. She kicked off her sandals to run her bare feet up and down his legs. So long she had wanted this, and it lived up to every hope. Details she couldn’t have foreseen fused fantasy with reality, making the experience so sweet that tears pulsed behind her eyes at some moments. At other times her emotion overflowed into words of giggling nonsense.

His lips were softer and his beard rougher than she had imagined. He laughed and teased more than you might expect from the god of the Underworld. His mouth tasted delicious, like spring water drunk from a wooden cup. Though his immortal muscles caged the strength of a warhorse, his skin felt nearly as silken as her own, especially in intimate places. Any shyness she retained about being younger and less experienced was swept away by his obvious desire and appreciation, along with his wish to please her—at which he was quite skilled.

She arched up against his fingers at one particularly adroit stroke. “Mmm…you know, I do have those seeds with me.” She found the cloth pouch on the string around her neck, and swung it before him. “So really, whenever you’re ready…”

After a reluctant pause, he shook his head. “I won’t take chances with your life.”

“But it
works
. Aphrodite promises. Come on, she knows these things.”

“Then maybe someday when I’m braver. But today I want to
enjoy
you, not endanger you.”

This only made her feel young and fragile again. She let the pouch drop onto her shoulder, turning her face aside. “I want to be able to give you what
she
can, at least.”

Hades hugged her close. “You already give me what no one else can: the company of the woman I love. I’d rather do nothing but lie here with you than do the most debauched things with Aphrodite.”

Appeased, she wriggled against him. “Well, you’d better do more than just lie here.”

He rolled her onto her back, his comfortable weight landing on top of her. “Don’t worry. I’m going to make very good use of you.” He paused, looking down at her throat, and untangled the pouch’s string from the leather cord of her violet necklace. “Is this the Underworld amethyst you chose when you were little?”

“Yes. I’ve worn it every day since. That’s how much I like you and your world.”

He let go of the necklace and settled down onto her. “Ah, my darling. We’ll make you a crown, as you deserve, with all the precious stones that can fit upon it.”

“Not strictly necessary, but tempting.” She latched a bare leg around him, and they went on kissing. He had pulled his tunic up entirely and draped it backward over his shoulder, and now only a few folds of her robes remained between them. She unfastened the pins holding them in place and slid the fabric away. They both sighed in pleasure at the feel of their skin touching all the way from head to legs. After enjoying it a moment, he slid down to her side again so he could resume caressing her. She repaid the favor.