“Nessa,” she said. “Nessa Levidis.”
“I will ensure she is looked after,” Persephone said.
Angeliki eyes widened. “You will? Truly?”
“Yes,” she said. “I promise.”
And gods could not break promises.
The young woman threw her arms around Persephone.
“Thank you,” she said, sobbing against her, body shaking. “Thank you.”
“Of course,” Persephone said, before pulling away. “All will be well.”
She took a deep breath and then offered a small laugh. “I’m going to clean up.”
Persephone and Yuri watched as the soul disappeared into the house.
“That was very kind of you,” Yuri said.
“It was the only thing I could think to do,” she said, and she wasn’t sure Hades would approve but there’d been a lot of people who’d died in the Talaria attack, and they’d left behind loved ones young and old. It wasn’t like she’d offered to deliver a personal message.
She made a mental note to speak to Katerina about starting a fund to help the families of the victims—that was something Hades would approve of.
“It is good to see you,” Yuri said.
“And you,” Persephone said. “I am sorry I have not visited.”
“It is alright,” she said. “We know things are not well above.”
Persephone frowned. “No, they are not.”
She glanced around, realizing that none of the young residents had come running to her as they usually did.
“Where are the children?”
Yuri smiled. “They are in the garden with Tyche,” she said. “She has been reading to them every morning. You should visit. The children would love it.”
She would like to see the children, but she’d also like to visit with Tyche. Still, she worried. Was Tyche ready to answer questions about her death?
“Come, I’ll walk as far as the orchard,” Yuri said. “I was on my way to pick pomegranates when I stumbled upon Angeliki.”
They left the main village, following a path toward a cluster of trees where Yuri stayed to harvest fruit. Beyond the orchard, was the Children’s Garden—which was not a garden at all, but more of park built into the surrounding forest. Since Persephone had come to the Underworld, the space had slowly transformed from a couple of swings and a seesaw to something far more magical and adventurous. It now spanned five acres with slides and sandlots, climbing structures and suspension bridges where the children usually played, but today she found them gathered in clearing and Tyche perched upon a large boulder. She was telling a story in the most animated way—her expressions and voices changing to match the characters as she spoke.
“Prometheus wanted the world to become a better place and instead of spending his days on Mount Olympus, he explored and lived among men who struggled despite all the world’s beauty. One day, Prometheus realized that if only men had fire, they could warm themselves and cook food and learn to make tools. The possibilities were endless!
But when Prometheus went to Zeus and begged him to share fire with mortals, the God of Thunder declined, fearing the strength of mortals. ‘It is better’, Zeus said, ‘for mortals to rely on the gods for all they need—let them pray for their needs and we shall grant them.’
But Prometheus disagreed and so he defied Zeus and gave man fire. It took many months for Zeus to look from his perch upon Mount Olympus, but when he did, he saw mortals warming themselves by fires—which were now in hearths, in the homes they had built because Prometheus had given them fire.
Enraged, Zeus chained Prometheus to the side of a mountain as punishment for his treason, but Prometheus was not sad about his sentence, rather he was glad, happy, because he knew that upon the wild Earth, the mortals thrived.”
Tyche’s voice was even, lush, and pleasant and Persephone found that she preferred the end to this version of Prometheus’s story—the truth was far darker. After Prometheus’s trickery, Zeus unleashed Pandora upon the world and gave them both fear and hope—hope, perhaps the most dangerous of weapons.
Persephone saw similarities in how Zeus viewed humanity even now. It was the god’s wish to keep mortals in a position of submission. It was his reason for descending to Earth—to remind humans who was all-powerful.
It was also why Triad was retaliating.
“Tell us another story, Lady Tyche!” One child said.
“Tomorrow, young one,” she said with a smile. “We have a visitor.”
The Goddess of Fortune met Persephone’s gaze and the children turned to look.
“Lady Persephone!”
They raced to her, throwing their arms around her legs and pulling on her skirt.
She laughed and bent to accept their hugs.
“Have you come to play with us?” One asked.
“Please play with us!”
“I have come to speak with Lady Tyche,” Persephone answered. “But we shall watch you play. You can show us all your new tricks.”
That seemed to satisfy them, and they hurried away toward the playground—climbing and running, swinging and sliding.
Tyche approached. She was beautiful and tall and lithe, her body draped in black robes, her long, black hair was tied into a knot at the top of her head. She curtsied.
“Lady Persephone,” she said. “It is good to meet you.”
“Lady Tyche,” she greeted. “I am so sorry.”
“There is no need for sorrow,” she said, offering a small smile. “Come, let us walk.”
She offered her arm, and Persephone accepted. The two kept to the shade. In this part of the Underworld, the air was forever warm, and the trees had a glow to them that reminded Persephone of spring.
“I suppose you wish to know how I died,” Tyche said.
The words twisted into Persephone’s chest like a knife.
“I do not so much wish to know,” Persephone said. “But…I fear it will keep happening if we do not learn from you.”
“I understand,” Tyche said. “I was taken down by something heavy, like a net. Then attacked by mortals—several of them. I remember feeling the first stab of pain and being shocked that they were hurting me. Then I felt another stab, then another. I was surrounded.”
“Oh, Tyche,” Persephone whispered.
“I could not heal myself. I think, perhaps, the Fates cut my thread.”
They walked a little farther and then stopped. Tyche turned to face Persephone, her stormy eyes gentle.
“I know what you wish to ask,” the goddess said.
Persephone swallowed. The words were on the tip of her tongue—was my mother involved? Did you sense her magic, too?
“I did sense your mother’s presence,” Tyche said. “I’d hoped…she was there to help me. I was not conscious enough to understand it was only her magic.”
Guilt twisted through Persephone, making her stomach knot.
“I do not understand why my mother has taken this path,” Persephone said, and she felt the pain of those words ricochet through her body.
There was a pause and then Tyche spoke.
“Your mother and I used to be close,” she said.
Persephone’s brows knitted together. She did not know that Demeter and Tyche had been friends at all. In the time she had spent in the greenhouse, she’d never once heard of or met the Goddess of Fortune.