Page 3 of The Dread Queen's Bargain

Persephone sneered. “Now you want to call me by my name.”

“Now!” Demeter yelped, her eyes wide with horror.

Persephone didn’t fully understand what was happening or where the power was coming from—she wasn’t even entirely sure it was hers—but it was giving Demeter a good scare, which was enough for her.

“Why should I?” Persephone flicked her fingers out of curiosity. The dark magic responded to her, wrapping tighter around Demeter on command. Like a fresh breath of air, a rush of magic danced over Persephone’s skin. Persephone was almost lightheaded with relief, as though exercising some of this mysterious power in her body was overdue.

Persephone formed a fist, and the binds tightened again. Demeter looked horrified, beautiful, and scared, like one of Artemis’s deer caught in a trap. Her heart was beating erratically, and she was beginning to get dizzy with power. It swirled in her stomach and tingled at the base of her spine. Persephone quickly realized she didn’t know how to control the black power or stop it.

The realization washed over Persephone and sweat broke out on her forehead and palms. Her relief turned to panic, so Persephone did the only thing she could think of.

Persephone turned on her heel and ran.

The fields where Persephone had been hiding were in Cape Matapan. As she kept running, the foliage died out around her. Before she knew it, Persephone stood before an abandoned maze of ruins. Long ago, even before her time, a lavish palace existed on the cape. Stories persisted that the king who once inhabited these ruins boasted the caves beneath his palace went straight to the Underworld. The mortal king bragged that he was as good as Hades, and practically an ambassador from the Kingdom of Shades.

Hades, of course, had not responded well to this. In retaliation, he granted the king's wishes. He opened a door to the Underworld in the caves. The crops on the surrounding acreage died, and the king was eventually disposed of in an uprising.

According to legend, the caves still functioned as a gateway to the Underworld. That was where Persephone now stood. In front of a stone arch, still perfectly intact, with a crumbling maze of old foundations beyond it. The arch was a perfect black doorway. Even in the midday sun, Persephone could see nothing beyond it. It was total blackness, an actual portal to nowhere.

Yet, something in the darkness called to Persephone. It mimicked the strange power mixing in her veins, beckoning her forward.

“I shouldn’t,” Persephone whispered to herself.

She'd been warned a thousand times never to go anywhere where Demeter couldn't find her. With its lack of light and fresh air, this mysterious entrance was the definition of a place where Demeter would dare never tread. It should horrify her.

It enticed her instead.

There was something wild and unruly about the blackness that was practically begging for Persephone to jump forward. To leave Greece and Olympus behind and descend into the dark earth. To uncover what secrets of the Underworld could tell her about the magic in her veins.

“Persephone?” Demeter's voice called out to her on the winds. It never took long for Demeter to find her.

She must have gotten out of those bonds.

Persephone panicked, realizing that her mother would be upon her in minutes. After the stunt she'd pulled this afternoon, she might as well say goodbye to her freedom forever.

So, with one last look over her shoulder, she glanced up at Helios, gave him a wave, and jumped across the doorframe into the darkness.

2

Once Persephone’s eyes adjusted to the blackness, she realized she was on a steep stone-covered road. Everything around her was made of rock, from the massive boulders boxing her in on either side to the crags hanging from the ceiling. The path twisted ahead of her, descending further into the even darker depths. Yet, they still called to her, practically beckoning her forward. It should have been terrifying, but Persephone put one foot in front of the other.

She didn’t know how much time passed in the depths. She walked down, down, down…several times. She barely avoided cutting her feet open on the hard stones. But every time she narrowly dodged a misstep, a voice whispered in her ear.

Not there! Step left! Bend your head!

The same dark magic that had been stirring in Persephone’s veins was singing to her now, talking to her in a genderless and ageless voice. It directed her further away from the sunlit fields of Greece above, guiding her toward Tartarus itself. Somehow, in the darkness, the goddess of spring wasn’t afraid of the lack of light and the utterly consuming darkness. She took solace in the black powers that guided her step, even though she knew she should be terrified.

It’s probably more a testament to how fucked up Demeter is if you’re preferring the guidance of mysterious hell magic to your mother’s. Persephone refused to feel guilty about it as the walk continued. She was not afraid but pleasantly relieved to be removed from the burden of Demeter’s oversight on her life.

Persephone walked until she wondered if she’d ever see anyone again. There was no light or shadows to indicate the passage of time. The voice had gone quiet. Persephone debated turning around and beginning the long ascent back up toward the mortal world until a soft glow of blue light started to flicker in the distance. Persephone picked up her speed and ran towards it, suddenly desperate for an end to the quiet darkness.

Soon, the light grew, similar to the moon’s, and Persephone stumbled into a massive cavern. The air was thick with the smell of sulfur. Persephone tore a piece of cloth off the edge of her chiton, tying it around her mouth and nose to avoid the fumes. She looked around the cavern and nearly dropped to her knees in shock.

Two massive doors stretched taller and higher than any mortal building or temple Persephone had ever seen. They glowed in the soft light, made of solid obsidian, and each inch was covered in delicate carvings. Persephone took a careful step forward, as if she was suddenly afraid of setting off an alarm, and studied the faces etched into the rock. She started to identify the inhabitants of the Underworld based on features alone; Persephone had never been introduced to the Chthonic gods. Demeter had considered their very existence an insult, but Persephone charmed many mortals into telling her stories of the Underworld.

At the very top, watching over it all, was Hades.

Well, Persephone assumed it was Hades. While mortal women had happily described Hecate’s righteous anger and men waxed poetic about Erebus’s faithfulness to his wife…not a soul would describe Hades. They spit when Persephone said his name and accused her of casting his eye on them.

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