Goddess of Spring (25 page)

“You wish to be caught in a cold rain?”

Lina laughed. “Not exactly. A shower isn't just rain from the skies. It's kind of like bathing, only you're standing up and water is being poured over you.”

“Oh, that sounds like my mother's bathing ritual, although she did not like her water cold,” Eurydice said.

Startled, Lina asked, “Really, what kind of bathing ritual did your mother have?”

Eurydice grinned impishly. “I could show you. It would probably be an easier way to get the nectar off of you.” She touched one of the drops and it trailed long, gooey tendrils from her finger back to the goddess' skin. “They might make your bathing water a sticky mush.”

“Eurydice, you are a genius. Tonight I put myself in your capable hands.”

 

 

THE little spirit had turned into a mini drill sergeant. From the second they reentered the palace she had been firing orders and directing a bevy of flitting servants. She wouldn't allow Lina to do anything except sit on the edge of the vanity chair and sip ambrosia.

“The goddess would prefer to bathe on the balcony.”

Mid-gulp of ambrosia, Lina sputtered. Bathe on the balcony? What was Eurydice thinking? The spirit was using the voice that Lina was rapidly coming to recognize as her formal, she's-my-goddess-you-better-mind-me tone as she tapped one slender foot thoughtfully against the marble floor. Without giving Lina a chance to speak, Eurydice barreled on.

“Yes, mother always used our inner courtyard. No! Not there!” She snapped at two male servants who were struggling to carry a large basin into the bathing room. “She pointed to the door in the middle of the wall of windows. “Take it through there.”

“Um, Eurydice, why are we going out on the balcony?”

“You are not to worry, Persephone. All will be perfect.” She frowned at one of the servants who jostled the basin a little too roughly against the marble floor of the balcony.

“Goddess,” Iapis entered the room and bowed politely to Lina before turning his attention to the spirit. “You have need of me, Eurydice?”

“Yes,” Eurydice said, hooking her long, wispy hair behind her ears. “The goddess is going to bathe on her balcony, and—”

Here Lina had to interrupt. “Wait, I think it's a lovely idea for me to bathe on the balcony—I mean, the view is spectacular—but I'm really not comfortable with, well,” Lina dropped her voice so that the daimon and Eurydice had to lean forward to hear her. “I don't want a bunch of guys seeing me naked.” Even if they were dead guys, she added silently.

Eurydice squinted at her as if she didn't fully understand what she was saying, but Lina was relieved to see Iapis nodding his head.

“It is also true of the Goddess Artemis. She will not allow her nakedness to be glimpsed by any mortals except for her handmaidens. But that problem is easily remedied, Persephone. I shall simply command that all spirits stay away from your wing of the palace and the surrounding grounds.”

Eurydice gifted the daimon with a smile filled with warmth, and Iapis looked inordinately pleased with himself. Lina felt like she had been caught in the middle of a well-meaning tornado. It was whirling her around and around, and was determined to spin her clothes off.

“I really don't want to cause any trouble,” Lina said helplessly.

“It is no trouble at all,” the daimon assured her.

“You are the Goddess of Spring,” Eurydice said.

Apparently, that was the final word on everything.

Resigned, Lina settled back, deciding not to care if she got nectar all over the silk-lined chair. She was, after all, the Goddess of Spring. She watched the whirlwind of preparation for her bath. They appeared to like cleaning up after her. Eurydice shook her head severely at an insubstantial servant who had failed to retrieve the correct number of towels from the bathing room. Or maybe they were just scared of Eurydice. At least the little spirit didn't seem to have been traumatized by the day's events. Lina sipped her ambrosia, considering. Had it only been that morning that Orpheus had descended into the Underworld? It felt like it had happened so long ago. How could she only have known Hades for a couple of days? What was it that Demeter had said? Something about the passage of time being measured differently by the gods. Her instincts told her that Demeter's words rang true. The passage of time was different in the world of the gods, as different as her borrowed life. Her heart felt different, too. The veneer of cynicism that had muffled it the past several years didn't seem to have transcended worlds. Lina's stomach tightened. To lust after a god . . . wouldn't that be the ultimate stupidity?

“Goddess, I will leave you to Eurydice and the maiden servants. Let your mind be eased—no mortal male will gaze upon you.” Iapis bowed to her.

“Iapis!” A sudden thought made Lina call him back. “You said no
mortal
male would see me, but what about Hades? Where is he?” Lina pretended that she didn't know her cheeks were blazing with hot color.

Iapis' face remained impassive. “The Lord of the Underworld has gone to the Elysian Fields. He spoke of seeking out Dido and escorting her to the River Lethe.”

Even though Lina was pleased at the news that Hades had followed her advice, she frowned and pointed out the open glass doors to the balcony and beyond.

“Aren't the Elysian Fields that way?”

“Some are, Goddess.” Then his eyes flashed with understanding. “I will go to my Lord and guide him back to the palace by a different route. Rest assured, Persephone, Hades would not wish to disturb your privacy.”

“Oh, no, of course not,” Lina said hastily.

“Enjoy your bath, Goddess.” Iapis bowed again.

Eurydice followed him to the door.

“If your goddess requires anything else, you need only send one of the maidens for me, and I will see it done,” Iapis said.

Eurydice tilted her head in acknowledgment. “That is most gracious of you, Iapis,” she said, stepping into the hall. There she lowered her voice so that Persephone could not hear her. “Did Hades really go to Elysia?”

“Yes,” Iapis whispered.

“But you will not stop him from returning through the gardens?”

Iapis answered with a slow, knowing smile and a wink. Eurydice had to clamp her pretty lips together to keep from giggling.

 

 

EURYDICE was chattering happily as she helped Lina out of her nectar-speckled robes. They were standing in the middle of the spacious balcony that looked out over the glorious rear grounds of the palace. Grounds that were decidedly empty of all spirits, male or otherwise, Lina noted. Directly in front of her was the basin Eurydice had ordered the servants to bring. Beside it was a small table covered with bottles and sponges. Sitting closer to the basin than the table was a short, fat stool. Near the edge of the balcony was a chaise lounge that Eurydice had insisted the servants drag out of Lina's bedroom. On the chaise sat an intricately carved wooden tray, which held sumptuous pomegranate fruits, their skins already opened and spilling forth their garnet-colored seeds. And, of course, there was also a crystal bottle filled to brimming with chilled ambrosia. Lina grinned. A goddess could certainly never have enough ambrosia.

The balcony itself was, like the rest of the palace, opulent and unique. It didn't just extend out and around the wall of windows. It curved gracefully, like one half of a Valentine's Day heart, until the balustrades opened to a circular marble staircase, which spilled out into a flower-lined path, which led, like spokes in a wheel, to the first tier of Hades' gardens. It was her own private entrance to paradise.

Lina gazed out on the amazing scene while Eurydice unwrapped her clothes from around her. She hadn't been exaggerating when she'd said that the view was spectacular. And there was something about the light—it had begun to change. The pastel sky was darkening and the colors were deepening from pink to coral and violet to purple. Suddenly, torches flared alive all throughout the gardens, causing Lina to jerk in surprise.

“There is no need to worry, Goddess.” One of the maidens who had stayed to assist Eurydice spoke up with the voice of a child. “The torches light themselves. There is no mortal man in the gardens to look upon your nakedness.”

“What is your name?” Lina asked the young spirit.

“Hersilia,” she ducked her head shyly.

“Thank you, Hersilia, for reminding me not to be so silly.” Lina smiled at the servant.

Eurydice unwrapped the final layer of silky fabric from around her waist and bent to help her off with her leather slippers.

“Now just step into the basin, Persephone,” Eurydice directed her.

The marble basin felt cool against Lina's bare feet, and she decided that it was a little like standing in a giant cereal bowl. The lip of the bowl came up to her knees. She was about to say that she felt like a naked Fruit Loop when Eurydice climbed on top of the stool.

“You may bring me the urn.”

The waiting servants formed an unlinked chain from the balcony, through the glass doors and into the bathroom. From there they began passing hourglass-shaped clay urns filled with water, which, to Lina's delight, Eurydice poured in steaming waves over her head.

More servants dripped soap onto sponges soft as cotton balls. Slowly, gently they began cleaning her skin. Lina's initial response was to stay very still, with her arms held at a rigid T away from her sides.

Then Eurydice began to sing, softly at first, but soon the other spirits joined with her and sweet, feminine voices filled the balcony.

 

Their song was slow and sensual, like the beat of bolero, and it stirred something deep within Lina. Intrigued, she accessed Persephone's memories.
They sing ancient praise to the beauty of the goddess. They do you great honor.
They did her great honor. . . . Suddenly it didn't matter that she was wearing a borrowed shape. She was alive and beautiful and filled with the exquisite power of a goddess. Lina let her body go loose. She drew a deep breath and exhaled all the stress and cares and inhibitions of her mortal life. Her ivory skin tingled and she began to sway gracefully with the tempo of the song.

 

The hot water sluiced over her naked body, a river of silk the soapy sponges traveled along. Lina turned and laughed and reveled in the sensations cascading down her skin. She felt the evening air lick her sleek sides. It was warm, but in contrast to the heat of the water it brought gooseflesh rising on her skin and caused her nipples to pucker erotically. Her laughter was infectious, and soon the maidservants joined her and the sounds of song and joy drifted through the palace and the gardens of the God of the Dead.

 

 

WITH slow, thoughtful steps Hades followed the snaking path that led from the forest, which separated his palace grounds from the Elysian Fields. The path took him through the third tier garden. He was glad that he had listened to Persephone's advice. Dido had been easy to find. All he had had to do was locate Aeneas. Her spirit had been nearby, pining miserably as she obsessively shadowed the warrior's every move. She hadn't wanted to drink of Lethe, such was the strength of her unrequited love, but Dido's soul belonged to Hades, and what he commanded she must do. As always happened, when she drew near Lethe, her spirit had quickened. The river's seductive voice had entranced her, making her transition a gentle one. But it was not the memory of Dido that slowed the god's steps. It was Persephone. The goddess haunted his senses. Though he had only held her in his arms briefly, he could still feel the satin of her skin against his . . . taste the sweetness of her mouth . . . smell the scent of woman that clung to her body.

He could still hear her laughter. Hades swore under his breath. Was this what love was like? Must he be consumed with thoughts of her?

The laughter came again. Listening carefully, Hades halted. Then he drew a relieved breath. The sound wasn't coming from his imagination. It was being carried from the palace by the warm evening breeze. Now he could discern different voices along with Persephone's. Some were laughing, some were singing. All were delightfully female. When Hades began walking again, his stride was no longer slow and thoughtful.

Entering the second tier, Hades scanned the rearview of his palace. Daylight had darkened to evening and the flickering torchlight that periodically illuminated the gardens did little to aid his vision. As usual, the palace windows were gaily lit, and Hades thought he could see graceful, curving shapes outlined against the wall of windows that belonged to Persephone's chamber. He thought it odd that they appeared to be on her balcony. Hades increased his stride.

When he reached the stairs that would take him up to the first tier, he was sure that he could hear the splashing of water. Taking the stairs three at a time, he climbed quickly up to the level of his palace. Here the greenery and flowers wound around in labyrinthine twists and turns, and Hades did not have a clear view of Persephone's balcony until he was very close to the edge of the gardens. The god stepped around an ornamental hedge and stopped like he had slammed against an invisible wall.

Persephone was naked. She stood in the center of a large marble basin, looking like an exquisite statue that had come to life. The stray thought passed through Hades' numbed mind that he suddenly understood Pygmalion's obsession with Galatea. Then his mind seemed to cease functioning completely and he became nothing more than a receptacle for the desire that scorched through his blood.