Page 56 of A Touch of Chaos

Persephone did not know what would happen to her mother. Perhaps she would never leave this place.

There was a part of her that felt sad that this was Demeter’s existence in the Underworld—she was just as alone here as she had been in the Upperworld. It was something Persephone had never thought long on before, but she saw it now.

“Leave with me now, and we can forget this ever happened,” Demeter had begged when they faced off in the arsenal, but there was no forgetting, because by the end of it, she had hurt Persephone too many times, and therewas no coming back from that, no pretending it never happened.

Suddenly, her chest felt tight, and her heart ached. She hadn’t had time to dwell on how everything had come to an end, and truly, she could not afford to now.

She had to focus on Hades.

That feeling in her chest grew sharper.

Hades.

She tried to imagine what it would be like to see him again after the horror Theseus had likely put him through, the extent of which she could only imagine given how the Impious and Triad had treated Adonis, Harmonia, and Tyche. The thought made her sick.

There was no way he was coming back the same, but she would love him through it, no matter how many pieces she had to hold together.

Persephone stopped by her suite to check on Harmonia. Aphrodite was still there, curled up beside her on the bed, asleep. Sybil sat near the fireplace working. She met Persephone’s gaze over her computer as the goddess approached.

“No change?”

“No change,” Sybil said.

Persephone frowned and studied her oracle for a moment. Her eyes looked dark, almost bruised.

“Have you slept?” she asked.

Sybil shook her head. “I have been working on an article forThe Advocateabout your life based on what you’ve told me,” said Sybil. “I know this isn’t your toppriority, but while you work on rescuing Hades, I can work on how the public perceives you.”

Persephone sank into the chair opposite her, suddenly feeling the burden of everything that had taken place over the last few days and what lay ahead.

“It seems so ridiculous, doesn’t it? To care what they think…but I do.”

“You care because you know the truth,” Sybil said.

“My truth is not everyone’s truth,” said Persephone.

There were mortals and immortals alike who had experienced a different Demeter—one who had granted them favor, offered them prosperity and abundance in whatever form they’d wished.

“That does not make what you went through any less valid,” said Sybil.

Persephone said nothing. Though the oracle’s words eased her anxiety, their conversation had opened another angry wound. She had deserved the same kindness Demeter had shown others. No one had shown her that more than Hades and his realm. Strangers had treated her better than her mother, the woman who had claimed to want her desperately.

She could not make sense of it now, and she cast her gaze toward the bed where Harmonia and Aphrodite lay.

“What does Hecate say about her wound?” Persephone asked.

Sybil’s eyes followed. “She says we may have to resort to using the Golden Fleece.”

Persephone had not heard about the Golden Fleece since studying Jason and the Argonauts in college. Jason, the rightful king of Iolcos, was sent away by his uncle,Pelias, to retrieve the fleece, a task he believed impossible. Successful, Jason was able to reclaim his throne, and the fleece came to represent kingship, but its real power was that it could heal.

“You are reluctant?” Persephone asked.

Sybil hesitated. “It’s not using it that worries me. It’s obtaining it,” she said and paused. “Hecate says the fleece hangs in a tree guarded by a dragon within Ares’s sacred grove.”

“Ares,” Persephone said. “But that should be easy. Aphrodite—”

Sybil shook her head. “Zeus has forbidden anyone from helping those who betrayed him.”

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