Page 76 of A Touch of Chaos

“My mother was more concerned about the rose and let me cry while she mended the petals I had shaken free.”

When she had expressed her pain, Demeter had offered no comfort.

“Let that remind you of the consequences of touching my flowers,” she’d said.

Persephone had never considered it before, but perhaps that experience was why she would later kill flowers with her touch.

Ariadne met Persephone’s gaze, and there was a flash of regret in her eyes at having asked, but Persephone got the point. It took her mind off the false memories of the dream and the endlessness of the labyrinth.

“What is your favorite memory?” Persephone asked.

Ariadne took a moment to respond, and Persephone wondered how many she had to choose from. It sounded like a strange thing to compare, but Persephone could only think of a few favorite memories, and most of them had been made with Lexa or Hades.

“Probably the times I spent with my sister,” said Ariadne.

“All of them?” Persephone asked when she gave no other details.

“Yes,” Ariadne said, pausing a moment. “We were alone a lot growing up, and I took responsibility for her. I made sure she was dressed and ready for school. I made her lunch and her dinner. I made sure she had fun so she didn’t realize what I realized, which was that our parents were too busy for us.”

Suddenly, Ariadne’s desperation to rescue her sister made sense.

“You can’t keep taking responsibility for her, Ariadne. She makes her own decisions.”

Her mouth hardened. Persephone imagined it wasn’t the first time she’d heard that.

“I would have taken care of her forever,” said Ariadne. “She didn’t have to choose him.”

“Maybe that’s why,” Persephone said. “Because she wanted you to be free.”

Ariadne paled. Those words seemed to hit her differently than the others. After that, they were both quiet until Persephone stopped.

“Do you smell that?” she asked.

Ariadne paused and took a deep breath. “Oh gods,” she whispered and exchanged a look with Persephone, confirming what she suspected—something nearby was dead and decomposing.

A terrible fear seized her heart, and for a brief moment, she let herself wonder if it was Hades.

It can’t be, she told herself, even though she knew it was a possibility given that this was Theseus’s domain and he could kill the gods.

They continued forward, and the smell grew worse. It was sickly sweet and pungent. It made Persephone’s eyes water and her nose burn. She wanted to gag as saliva flooded the back of her throat. She wasn’t sure she was going to make it without retching.

Then Ariadne began to heave, and Persephone couldn’t take it any longer.

She bent over and threw up.

“This is fucking terrible,” she said, placing the back of her hand to her mouth.

Now her throat was on fire, and her nose wasdripping with the same contents she’d spewed. In some ways, she did not mind because it deadened the stench of decay.

When Ariadne was finished vomiting, she hiked her shirt over her nose, and Persephone did the same. It did not help much, but it wasn’t like they had a choice. Galanthis was still leading them forward, farther into the labyrinth and closer to death.

Finally, they rounded a corner, and through blurry eyes, Persephone saw the source of the smell. A large mound of flesh lay a few feet ahead.

“What the fuck is that?” Ariadne asked.

Galanthis did not seem as worried, trotting forward without a care in the world.

They followed carefully behind, approaching the corpse.

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