Goddess of Spring (9 page)

The three of them started forward, this time with Lina and her light leading the way. The tunnel was large and its downward grade was steep, but the walls around them changed very little. The colorful frescoes decorated the dim expanse, appearing incongruous with their bright cheer in the midst of such utter darkness. Lina was just about to ask Demeter who had painted the scenes when the walls around them fell away, leaving only unending darkness in their place. Directly in front of them a grove of trees materialized from the blackness. Lina stared at them.

“Ghost trees,” she whispered in awe. That's what they looked like. Though their branches were thick and filled with leaves that appeared to be thriving and healthy, they were white—trunks, limbs, leaves—all the color of milk. They fascinated Lina. Their beauty was unearthly and delicate, and they appealed to her senses at a deep and elemental level.

“It is through this grove that you will find the entrance to the Underworld.” Then Demeter raised her voice, calling into the grove. “Eurydice, come forth!”

Lina felt her stomach tighten with nerves. She was just about to meet her first dead person. No! She had to quit thinking about them as “dead,” that would only creep her out. She needed to remember Demeter's words—they were just displaced souls, much like her.

Within the grove movement flickered and Lina forced herself to remember to breathe as a slender figure stepped from the tree line and moved purposefully toward them. Lina twirled one long strand of hair around and around her finger while she strained to get a clear image of the figure, but all she could see was a blurred sense of long hair and the flow of a diaphanous garment. Then Eurydice stepped within Lina's circle of light, and she felt the nervousness leave her in a rush of relief. This was no walking specter or
Dawn of the Dead
-like zombie. It was just a pale, frightened looking girl. If Lina had been able to give birth to a daughter, this child would have been her age—probably eighteen or nineteen.

She approached Demeter hesitantly and curtsied low. It was only then that Lina noticed that her body was not as substantial as it had at first appeared. Upon closer inspection, Lina could see that the light actually passed through the girl's body and the silky, toga-like robe she wore. She wasn't quite a shadow or a ghost; she was more like an unfinished watercolor painting that had come to life. Lina felt a rush of maternal sympathy for her. She was so young. What had happened to her?

“Great Goddess, I have awaited your presence as you commanded.” Her voice was melodic and sweet.

“You have done well, child. This is the final task I require of you. I ask that you serve as guide to my daughter, who wishes to visit the Underworld,” Demeter said.

“I am pleased to serve you in any way, Demeter,” Eurydice said. She turned to Lina and inclined her head respectfully. “It is a great honor for me that the Goddess of Spring will join me on my journey to Elysia.”

“Thank you for helping me, Eurydice.” Lina smiled warmly at the girl. “I've never been to He”—she caught herself just in time and switched words, hoping the child didn't notice her slip—“Hades before.”

“Neither have I, Goddess.”

Eurydice's voice was shadowed with sadness, and Lina wanted to smack herself in the head for her insensitive comment, but before she could apologize, Demeter spoke to Eurydice.

“Though you have not yet experienced the wonders of Elysium, your soul knows the way and seeks to take you to your eternal destination. As your soul guides you, so you will guide my daughter, and I entrust her to your care,” Demeter said, her voice gentle, her expression maternal.

Eurydice bowed her head, obviously humbled by the goddess's trust. Then Demeter turned to Lina.

“It is here I must take my leave of you, Persephone.”

Demeter embraced her and Lina was enveloped in the rich, summer scent of ripe corn and windblown fields of wheat.

“May your sojourn in the Underworld bring Spring to Hades' realm, and comfort to those who have felt the absence of a goddess. Fare you well, daughter, my blessings go with you.”

Demeter kissed her softly on the forehead, then she turned to go.

“Wait—wait—wait!” Lina stuttered. The goddess was leaving already? Just like that?

Demeter glanced back over her shoulder. “Listen within, Persephone. Your instincts will not fail you.”

Lina took a step toward the goddess and dropped her voice. “What if I need more help than that?”

“Trust yourself. Draw upon your inner knowledge, as well as your
other
experiences,” Demeter said pointedly. “You life has prepared you well for this endeavor.”

Lina's whisper was for Demeter's ears only. “How do I reach you if something comes up that I can't handle?”

Demeter nodded thoughtfully. “Perhaps it would be best.” The goddess gestured toward the tunnel from which they had descended. “I will leave my oracle for you at the mouth of this entrance. You only have to look into it to see my face.”

“But how can I be sure to find my way back there?”

“You are the daughter of the Harvest. Turn your face upward, and your steps will always lead you to your home,” Eirene snapped in her usual, caustic manner. Then she met Lina's clear gaze and Eirene felt herself soften. This woman was, after all, housed against her will in Persephone's body. “Believe in yourself, child. Your strength rests within.”

Lina was almost as surprised by the gentleness of the old woman's words as she was by her smile.

“I'll remember, thank you, Eirene,” Lina said.

Demeter stepped forward and kissed her lightly on the forehead again. “May you be blessed with joy and magic, daughter.”

The goddess turned away with a finality that told Lina not to call her back, even though her heart was fluttering nervously at the thought of what lay ahead. Lina watched the darkness swallow the two women, and she had just begun to think about whether she should send a little of her light to help lead Demeter to the surface when the goddess's staff began to glow with the brilliant golden light of a summer day.

“And she needed me to light the way for her?” Lina muttered. “Not hardly.”

“I beg your pardon, Goddess, but we must begin our journey.”

Lina turned back to Eurydice. The girl was plucking at the transparent folds of her garment. She gave Lina a shy, apologetic smile.

“I feel compelled to continue. My soul tells me that I have waited as long as I am able.”

“Oh! Of course,” Lina said, feeling instantly ashamed of herself. Here she was, fretting about Demeter leaving her alone to get started on a temporary job that she had been assured she could complete with no problem, and little, dead Eurydice was . . . well . . . dead. Poor kid. “I'm ready. Let's go.”

Instantly, the young spirit re-entered the grove of white trees with Lina following close behind. The little ball of light enveloped them in a soft, clear glow, and as it touched the trees that surrounded them the light caught in the branches and sparkled between the leaves making them shine like they were faceted jewels.

“They're so beautiful,” Lina said quietly.

“I think it is your light that makes them appear so, Goddess,” Eurydice said in the timid voice of a child.

“Oh, I don't know, I'll bet they have always been beautiful.” As soon as she had spoken the words, the limbs above Lina began to ripple, as if in response to her compliment, and more faceted leaves shimmered and glistened in her light. She smiled at her guide and pointed up into the forest of diamonds. “They were here a long time before I came. My light is just allowing them to be seen as they really are.”

“Forgive me, Goddess. I did not mean to speak out of turn.”

Lina pulled her gaze from the shining leaves. Eurydice had ducked her head, as if she was waiting for some kind of chastisement.

“You didn't speak out of turn. You just made an observation. I want you to feel free to talk to me. Honestly, I'm already missing my”—Lina paused. She'd almost said “life” or “bakery” or “world,”—“mother,” she amended, “and I'd really appreciate some conversation to get my mind off her.”

“I miss my mother, too,” Eurydice whispered.

“I'm sorry. I didn't mean to remind you of . . .” Lina's words failed.

“It is not so terrible, Goddess,” Eurydice said quickly. “Though I have been dead but a little while, I think I am already beginning to understand.”

When the girl quit speaking, Lina prompted her to continue. “Go on, I'd like to know what you've come to understand.”

“The pains of the living world are already fading away. I miss my mother and . . . well . . . others, but I know that I will eventually be reunited with them. I am, after all, still myself.” Eurydice held out her arm so that Lina's light shined clearly through her delicate limb. “My body has changed a little, but my mind and heart are the same, which is a great relief to me. What I mean to say is that I have found that the terror of death is worse than death itself.” The young spirit finished in a rush.

Lina smiled at Eurydice. “You are very wise.”

“Oh, no,” Eurydice said, shaking her head quickly from side to side and causing her transparent blond hair to float around her in gossamer wisps. “If I were truly wise I would have avoided my mistakes.”

Before Lina could question the girl further, they stepped from the grove of white trees to find themselves standing in front of an enormous ivory gate. Beyond the gate Lina could see a smooth, black path that wound off into the eternal darkness like a thin ribbon of night.

“We must enter here and follow that path,” Eurydice said. “It will take us to Charon.”

Lina didn't need to pull from Persephone's knowledge; she recognized the name of the Ferryman of the Underworld. She nodded at Eurydice and had just reached up to push open the gate when the ivory wall swung away from her touch. At the same instant, a whir of sound caused the darkness before them to ripple, and a river of mist spewed from the other side of the gate, engulfing Lina in cold, gray vapor. Fear flowed from it like a raging river. Nightmare sounds assailed her senses, reminding Lina of every bad dream she had ever experienced. Her first response was to cover her ears and run away screaming, but the calm core within her took hold and spoke reassuringly into her frightened mind.

Forcing her hands to her sides, Lina stood tall and shook herself like a cat ridding itself of hated water.

“Get away, bad dreams!” she commanded, and breathed a sigh of relief when the mist responded by dissipating into nothingness.

“You made them leave. Oh, thank you, Goddess.”

Eurydice had moved close to her side, and now the young girl stood almost touching her. Lina could see the fear in her pale eyes.

“They couldn't have hurt you, Eurydice. They were just the mist of nightmares,” she reassured the girl with a quick smile. “Unpleasant, sure, but not dangerous.”

“I have never liked nightmares,” Eurydice said, looking around fearfully.

“Honey, no one does. That's why they're called
bad
dreams. Don't give them another thought—they're history.” The ivory gate had remained open, and Lina pointed at the dark road. “Didn't you say this was the way we had to go?”

“Yes, Goddess.”

“Well, then, off we go.” Lina stepped through the gate and onto the road with Eurydice following closely behind. Under the soft leather slippers that adorned Persephone's dainty feet, the road felt cool and hard. She crouched down to touch it.

“Marble,” she murmured. Lina peered into the distance. “It's made of what looks like a single slab of black marble.” She stood up and grinned at Eurydice. “It's not the yellow brick road, but it's sure easy to follow.”

“Goddess?” Eurydice looked confused.

“Oh, it's just a saying. It means our way is clearly marked.” Lina started walking, Eurydice at her side and the ball of light floating between them. “And I would really like it if you would call me by my name.”

“But you are a goddess.” She sounded shocked at Lina's request.

“And I have a name. Anyway, goddess sounds so stiff and formal. After all, I am the Goddess of Spring, and spring is anything but stiff and formal.” Lina listened within as she spoke and it seemed that the echo of Persephone was pleased by what she had said. Suddenly Lina wondered about the woman whose body she inhabited. What was she like? Lina glanced down at herself. That she was beautiful was obvious, but was she also arrogant and selfish? Or was she a benevolent goddess who treated others kindly?

“Then I will consider it an honor to call you Persephone.”

Eurydice's voice broke into Lina's thoughts, but she smiled encouragement to the girl. “Good!” At least it was a start.

They walked on in companionable silence and Lina studied the land around them. She was beginning to distinguish between the levels of darkness on either side of the road. At first glance, it seemed that everything was wreathed in the black of a starless night, but as Lina's eyes grew more accustomed to the lack of light, she could see that there were shadows and shapes within the black. The land that stretched away on either side of them reminded Lina of a dark moor, she could even make out the feather-like shapes of gray-toned foliage and clumps of thick grasses that waved unerringly in the non-wind.

Then a shape flitted past, catching Lina's eye as it swam into focus. It was an old man, bent almost in two with age. He took one limping step toward the road, but his next step was backward, then he took another forward. His rheumy eyes blinked sightlessly at Lina. Just as she was wondering if she should help him, another shape took form out of the darkness. It was a woman. She looked to be about Lina's age and she was crouched on the shadowy grass, cringing in terror from an invisible attacker. Lina's first instinct was to go to her, but the voice within echoed throughout her mind.