Goddess of Spring (35 page)

“Things have taken an unexpected turn.”

Demeter's frown deepened. “Do not tell me you have been discovered.”

“No! Everyone still thinks that I'm Persephone.” Lina paused, chewing on her bottom lip. “But my problem does have to do with that.”

“Explain yourself,” Demeter said.

“I've fallen in love with Hades, and he loves me too, and I need to tell him who I really am and figure out how to fix this mess,” Lina said in a rush.

Demeter's eyes turned to stone. “This is not some kind of mortal jest you make?”

Lina sighed. “No, this is absolutely not funny.”

“You are truly telling me that you and Hades have become lovers?”

“Yes.”

“Then a god has dallied with your affections,” Demeter shook her head sadly. “I am to blame for this. I exposed a mortal to the whims of a god. Forgive me, Carolina Francesca Santoro, my intention was not to cause you pain.”

“No,” Lina protested. “It's not like that. He wasn't taking advantage of me.
We
fell in love—with each other.”

“Fell in love? With each other?” Demeter's voice went hard. “How could that be? Hades believes that you are Persephone, Goddess of Spring. He has no idea that he has been making love to a mortal woman. Think, Carolina! How could you believe that it is you he loves?” She made a rude noise and her handsome face twisted. “Love! Are you really so naive? Immortals
love
differently than mortals. Surely even in your world you have heard tales of the excesses of immortal
love.
”

Lina lifted her chin and narrowed her eyes. “I am not a child. Do not talk to me like I have the fickle emotions of an inexperienced girl. I know the difference between love and lust. I know when a man is using me, just as I know when he is treating me honestly. The lessons were hard, but experience taught me the difference.”

“Then you should know better,” Demeter said.

Lina's face burned as if Demeter's softly spoken words had struck her. “You don't know him. He's not like the rest of you.”

“Not like the rest of the immortals? This is naive nonsense. He is a god. The only difference between Hades and the rest of the gods is that he is reclusive and has chosen to place the dead above the living.”

“And that's part of what makes him so different.” Lina took a deep breath; she didn't want to betray Hades' confidence, but she had to convince Demeter. “I am the only goddess he's loved.”

Demeter's eyes narrowed. “Is that what he told you? Then here is your first lesson in immortal love. Never believe anything a god says when he is trying to gain access to the bed of a goddess. What he told you was only what he thought you needed to hear so that you would give yourself to him.”

Refusing to believe Demeter's words Lina shook her head from side to side, but the goddess ignored her and continued her barrage.

“What did you believe? That you and he would be together for eternity? Forget that you are a mortal. Forget that you are from another world. Even if you were truly the Goddess of Spring, did you honestly believe that Hades and Persephone would be mated, that their names would be linked for eternity? The idea is absurd! How could Spring exist in the Land of the Dead?”

“Then Spring doesn't have to exist there. I will. Me—the mortal, Carolina Francesca Santoro. I'll stay in the Underworld and love its god. Just re-exchange me. Give me back my body and return this”—she gestured at herself—“to your daughter.”

“I cannot. You are not of this world, Carolina.” The anger drained from Demeter's face. “You knew your time there was temporary. I did not pretend otherwise.”

“There has to be a way.”

“There is not. Both of us must abide by the oaths we have given.”

“Can't I even tell him who I am?” Lina asked hopelessly.

“Use your mind, Carolina, not your heart. What would the Lord of the Dead do if he knew he had wooed, not the Goddess of Spring, but a middle-aged baker from the mortal world? Would he open his arms to your deceit?” Demeter held up a hand to silence Lina's protests. “It matters little that you did not intend to deceive him. You say that I do not know Hades, but all immortals know this much of him: the Lord of the Dead values truth above all things. How would he react to your lie?”

“But he loves me.”

“If Hades loves, it is Persephone, Goddess of Spring, who has won his affection,” Demeter said with finality. “And consider for a moment how the spirits of the Underworld would feel if they learned that the goddess who has brought them such joy is only a mortal in disguise.”

Lina flinched. “It would hurt them.”

“Yes, it would.”

“I cannot tell anyone.”

“No, Daughter, you cannot.” Lina closed her eyes and Demeter watched the woman in her daughter's body struggle to accept the pain of her words. “Remember this, when you have returned to your rightful place,
Persephone
will just consider Hades another god with whom she dallied. And no matter what you believe has passed between you and he, Hades will eventually feel the same. Listen to the voice that is within you and you will remember that this is simply the way of immortals.”

When Lina opened her eyes, her gaze was resolute.

“I'll return to the Underworld and finish my job. You said my time is almost over?”

Demeter nodded.

“Good. I'll be ready to go when you say so.”

“I knew I made a wise choice in you.” The goddess's image began to fade. “Return with my blessing, Daughter,” she said, and she was gone.

Lina turned away from the oracle. Her eyes passed over the beauty of Lake Avernus without actually seeing. She didn't cry. She held herself very still, as if the lack of movement could protect her against further pain.

 

 

CLOAKED in invisibility, Hades had, at first, stayed within the mouth of the tunnel. His initial reaction to finding Persephone had been relief. She wasn't leaving him. She was only speaking to her mother's oracle. He could not hear what she was saying, but as he watched, his relief was rapidly replaced by concern. Persephone was visibly upset, she almost looked frightened.

Was that why she hadn't told him she meant to speak with Demeter? Was she afraid of her mother's reaction to their love? Had she been trying to protect him? Surely, she was aware that he was a powerful god in his own right. But perhaps she wasn't. Persephone was very young—she behaved with such maturity that it was easy for him to forget just how young—and he had kept himself separated from the rest of the immortals for a very long time. Did she believe that he only wielded power in his own realm?

He watched as her face paled. Demeter was wounding her. Anger surged through him. Still wearing the Helmet of Invisibility, he strode toward his beloved.

Demeter's hard voice drifted to him from the oracle.

Hades stopped short. Had he heard her correctly? He was just another god with whom she had dallied? Incredulous, he listened to Persephone's reply.

He had only been a job to her?

She wanted to leave him. Invisible to her, Hades watched the goddess he loved turn from her mother's oracle and stare off into the distance. Her eyes were dry. Her face was stone. She looked like a stranger.

No! He wouldn't believe it. He had heard only part of their conversation. He must have misunderstood. He knew Persephone. His Persephone could not deceive him. As his hand lifted to remove the Helmet of Invisibility, a sound drew his attention. Together, he and Persephone turned to face the god who strode from the path that curled around Lake Avernus.

Apollo's handsome face was alight with pleasure. His lips curved in a warm smile of welcome.

“Ah, Persephone, it pleases me that you accepted my invitation. We all knew that too much time in the Underworld would cause the Flower of Spring to yearn for the sun again.”

With a growing sense of numbness, Hades watched as Apollo took Persephone's unresisting body in his arms.

Unable to continue watching, the Lord of the Underworld turned his back on the two lovers and silently returned to the realm of the dead.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

IT didn't take Apollo long to realize that holding Persephone was like hugging a corpse. He pulled back and studied her pale face.

“What's wrong? More problems with Demeter?”

Persephone shook her head. When she blinked, two perfect teardrops fell from her eyes and made glistening tracks down her cheeks. He was just considering whether he should kiss her or materialize a drink for her when a black monster burst from around the path and thrust his body between them.

“Be gone, beast from the pit!” he yelled as he staggered back, trying not to fall.

The stallion turned and bared yellow teeth at him.

“It's okay, Orion. Apollo doesn't mean any harm.”

The sadness in her voice touched the god. He peered around the black brute who was nuzzling Persephone. The goddess caressed the horse absently. Tears leaked down her face, but she took no notice of them.

“Orion! I need to speak with your mistress.” Eyes blazing, the stallion turned his swiveled head to face Apollo. He held his hands out in an open gesture of peace. “I wish only to offer her aid.”

Orion seemed to study the god, then he blew through his nose and lipped the goddess's cheek before moving a few feet down the path where he grazed while keeping one black eye focused on the God of Light.

Apollo took Persephone's limp arm and led her to a bench carved from bare rock. The goddess sat. He made a spinning motion with his hand and a clear goblet appeared suddenly in a shower of sparks. He offered it to Persephone.

“It is only spring water,” he said when she hesitated. “I thought you might need its refreshment.”

“Thank you,” she said woodenly. The water was cold and sweet. She drank deeply, but it didn't begin to quench the emptiness within her.

Apollo sat next to her.

“What has caused you such pain?” he asked.

She didn't answer for so long that he thought she wasn't going to respond. Then she spoke in a voice that was filled with such hopelessness that the god felt his own chest constrict.

“My own foolishness—that is what has caused me such pain.” Apollo took her hand. “What can I do to help you?”

She looked at him then, and the god felt as if her eyes could see through to his soul.

“Answer a question for me. What is it that loves—the body or the spirit?”

Apollo smiled and began to respond with a witty reply, but he found he could not. Once again, she surprised him with her candor. Since their last meeting, the Goddess of Spring hadn't been far from his thoughts. His eyes met hers. He could not belittle her obvious pain, so he answered honestly.

“Persephone, you ask this question of the wrong god. As you know, I have had much experience with lusts of the body. I feel desire and I slake it. But love? That most elusive of emotions? I have witnessed it bring an undefeated warrior to his knees, and cause a single maiden to wield more power than Hercules, but I cannot say that I have ever truly experienced it.” Wistfully, he touched her cheek. “But looking at you makes me wish otherwise.”

The light was growing. It signaled the coming of dawn. His chariot had to be near, and his time was short. Apollo could see that, though he was close beside her and offering her comfort and compassion, Persephone was not even looking at him. She was staring at the mouth of the tunnel which led to Hades' domain. His hand dropped from her face.

“You love Hades!” He did not bother to hide the surprise in his voice.

Persephone's eyes snapped to his. “And why do you find that so shocking? Because I am Spring and he is Death? Or is it because immortals don't really know how to love?”

“I just didn't think it possible,” Apollo said.

“It's probably not.” The temporary fire in her voice was gone, and the hopelessness had returned. She lurched to her feet. “Orion!” The stallion moved with supernatural speed to her side. Without another word, she flung herself astride the horse and dug her heels into his sides. Orion leapt forward, leaving Apollo to stare openmouthed at the dust that rose from his iron-clad hooves.

“Persephone and Hades? How could that be?” he murmured.

 

 

HADES was at his forge. He stoked the fire to a level that was almost unbearable and striped down to his loincloth. He wouldn't work on a horseshoe. That would not satisfy him. He needed something else, something larger. He would fashion a shield, wrought from the strongest of metals. Something that could protect a body, if not a soul.

He fed the coals until they screamed with the voice of searing heat. Then he thrust the naked sheet of unformed metal into them and pulled it out when it hummed with readiness. He began pounding it to his will.

On and on Hades worked. His shoulders ached and his blows coursed through his body, and still he could not pound the pain from his soul. He did not blame her. She was just a young goddess. He should have known better. He had been wise to set himself apart from the immortals. She had simply proven how wise he had been. His way had worked for age after age. He had been foolish to deviate.