Persephone shook her head. He still thought he was losing Lexa today.
“No one needs to know,” she said. “Let them think it was a miracle.”
The two took a seat and waited. Jaison eventually came back with a steaming cup of coffee and sat beside her. They didn’t speak, which was fine with her. She was lost in thought, unable to focus on any one thing. The longer the silence stretched the more her anxiety grew.
At some point, Lexa’s family began to arrive. Soon, they were led to a larger room where Lexa had been moved. Lexa’s parents were nearest to her, then Jaison, several aunts and uncles and friends from her hometown of Ionia. Each person in the room approached her and said their goodbyes, touching her, holding her hand or kissing her face.
When it was Persephone’s turn, she scooped up Lexa’s hand, and pressed a kiss to her cold skin.
“Please, please wake up,” she prayed to no one but Apollo’s magic and to Persephone’s
surprise, Lexa squeezed her hand. She looked up and met Jaison’s gaze, but she could tell by his expression that he had seen what happened.
“She squeezed my hand.” Persephone’s voice was high-pitched, unfamiliar to her ears, but she was experiencing a rush of adrenaline.
“What?” Jaison looked down at Lexa and clasped her other hand.
“Lexa, Lexa, babe. If you can hear me, squeeze my hand!”
There was a flurry of activity after that. Everyone but Lexa’s parents were ushered out of the room and the doctors were called in to check her vitals. Sometime later, Lexa’s father came to the waiting room to let everyone know that her body had healed enough in the last twelve hours to support life-sustaining activity.
“It’s a miracle,” he said, eyes watery. “A miracle.”
Persephone’s eyes watered, too, and her body trembled. Her sacrifice had been worth it! Lexa was back.
“You did it,” Sybil whispered, and the two hugged. It was then she noticed Jaison standing apart from them. She approached, hesitant.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“Yeah,” Jaison said, he sniffed, wiping his eyes. After a moment, he embraced her, his breath releasing in a harsh gasp. “Thank you, Persephone.”
His expression of gratitude seemed misplaced given what Persephone had done, so instead of speaking, she remained quiet, hugging him tighter.
They lingered in the waiting room for a little while, talking and laughing. Everything felt strange but hopeful, like the sun was still managing to shine through thick, black clouds. At some point, Persephone decided it was time to sneak away. She needed a shower and a few hours of sleep. She said goodbye to Jaison, Sybil, and Lexa’s family and left.
She made it outside before the hair on the back of her neck stood up and a terrifying hiss drew her attention skyward where three women hovered, black, leathery wings spread wide. Their limbs were pale white, and black snakes twined around their bodies. Their hair was inky and seemed to float around them as if they were underwater. Each wore a crown of thick spires, resembling black blades.
They were Furies—goddesses of vengeance, and they only popped up when someone broke Divine Law.
“Persephone, daughter of Demeter.”
They spoke in unison, their voices echoing in her mind like the hiss of a snake.
“Fuck.”
“You have broken a sacred law of the Underworld and therefore, must be punished.”
A shiver of fear shook her spine. She had not considered that her decision to help Lexa would be punishable by the three goddesses.
Suddenly, serpents slithered around her feet. Persephone jumped.
“Oh, no! Fuck, fuck, fuck!”
She tried to jump from the middle of the pool of snakes, but they were quick to surround her, slithering up her legs, torso, and shoulders. Their scales were slippery and rough and tightened around her like rope. A faint whisper reached her ears—punish, punish, punish. Then one of the serpents sunk its fangs into her shoulder.
Persephone screamed. The pain was sharp, and the venom burned. Suddenly, she was frozen—her scream dried up in her throat and her legs wouldn’t work. She tried to move but fell, striking the cement hard. Her body felt like it was being torn apart, and all of a sudden everything was dark, and she was falling.
She appeared on the floor of Nevernight.
She was surprised when Apollo landed on his face beside her. The god groaned, rolling onto his back. Persephone regained movement in her limbs and started to get to her feet when she saw Hades standing over her like a dark cloud. There was an acute fury in his eyes, and she felt like he was skinning her alive with that stare. She had never experienced fear standing opposite him, even after she had published her story on Apollo, but right now, it settled heavy and cold in her stomach.
Is this what it was like to come before Hades, King of the Underworld—judge and
punisher?
“Fucking Furies,” Apollo said as he got to his feet, brushing himself off. Persephone glanced at the god, who now spotted Hades. “You know you could upgrade to something a little
more modern to enforce natural order, Hades. I’d rather be carried off by a well-muscled man than a trio of albino goddesses and a serpent.”
“I thought we had a deal, Apollo,” Hades gritted out.
Persephone marveled at how her lover could appear so calm, and yet infuse his voice with a quiet fury. She felt it in the air, and it settled on her skin, drawing goosebumps to the surface.
“You mean the deal where I stay away from your goddess in exchange for a favor?”
Hades said nothing. Apollo knew the deal.
“I’d have been more than obliging, except your little lover showed up at Erotas demanding my help. While I was in the middle of a bath, I should add.”
“No, you shouldn’t,” Persephone hissed.
“She can be very persuasive when she’s angry,” he continued, ignoring her. “The magic helped.”
Apollo didn’t even need to say the last part, Hades knew what it meant when she got angry—loss of control.
“You never said she was a goddess. No wonder you snatched her up quickly.”
Why does everyone say that, she wondered?
“I could hardly deny her request when she had razor-sharp thorns pointed at my nether-regions.”
Persephone wanted to vomit, but she glanced at Hades and noted that despite the anger clouding his face, he seemed a little proud.
“So, we struck a deal. A bargain, as you like to call it.”
Hades eyes darkened.
“She asked me to heal her little friend, and in exchange, she provides me with...companionship.”
“Don’t make it sound gross, Apollo.”
“Gross?”
“Everything that comes out of your mouth sounds like a sexual innuendo.”
“Does not!”
“Does too.”
“Enough!” Hades voice cracked like a whip, and when Persephone looked at him, she saw fire in his eyes. Though he addressed Apollo, his gaze didn’t leave her, and she felt it tear
away all her layers, exposing the raw and real fear she felt beneath. “If you are no longer
in need of my goddess, I would like a word with her. Alone.”
“She’s all yours,” Apollo said, who had the good sense to evaporate and say nothing else.