Page 90 of Seph

“Mom? Mom!”

Persephone’s head jerked up, and she dropped the rest of her glassware.

“Babies?” she whispered.

Milly and Zag ran, twin blurs of dark hair, one in a chic charcoal suit and watercolor scarf, the other in archaic brimstone-stained armor.

“Kids! How did you—” Hades didn’t finish the sentence. Zagreus towered over his fallen uncle, sword slamming into his middle and pinning Zeus to the floor like an insect on an entomologist’s board. Milly tackled her mother, and the two of them rocked in a spinning, sobbing hug that sent tears streaming from his own eyes.

“You fools. Fool then to steal her from me, fool now to keep me from—” Zeus never got to finish his sentence.

Hades’ hands latched around his throat. “I will have an eternity to talk about who the fool is, Zeus. But I won’t be visiting you for the first few millennia. I have a lot of catching up to do with my wife and children. I’d say that I feel bad for yours as they won’t see you for several thousand years—immortal years, mind you, but you’re a horrible husband and father, and I don’t think they’ll mind. Hera, Heph, Ares, and Athena— hell, any of your siblings or offspring will be able to run Olympus better than you. Seph—I’ll be right back.”

There was a loud pop and a blue flash in the hall.

“Where did he go?” Simeon demanded.

“To the Cell.” Zagreus wiped his sword off on his tunic and put it back in his scabbard before wrapping his arms around his mother and sister, Persephone sandwiched between her weeping children.

“Cell?”

“The Cell. Big C. Dad’s been preparing a place for whoever stole Mom from us for years. I’m not even allowed in. But if you’ve ever thought about what would happen if a guy had a thousand years to think of revenge for the woman he loves most in the universe—yeah, multiply it by a million, and that’s where Zeus gets to hang out. It makes Tartarus look like a nice, peaceful resort.”

“Oh!” Persephone gasped, eyes flickering open and taking in her son’s words.

“Oh, don’t worry, Mom. The rest of the Underworld looks great. Dad got your orchids to take root. There’s a bowling alley in every subdivision, and the Muses are helping with some theaters.”

“You’d be proud of him. He never stopped looking. Never stopped trying.”

Persephone clutched her children closer but said nothing.

Emily watched the mother embracing her children.

“You get a wish, Huntress,” Simeon said softly. “Dunno if it’s possible, but couldn’t hurt to ask. You could have time turned back. Could have a prayer answered.”

“I know. So could you.”

“Ah. I could. You go first,” Simeon insisted, then fell silent, holding her hand in a tight grip.

“I’m sorry I was gone so long,” Seph whispered, kissing each child on the forehead as they nestled together on a long leather booth seat. “I didn’t know... I knew something was wrong, but I felt as though I’d only been gone a little while. You keep saying ‘a thousand years.’ Was it really...?”

“A thousand mortal years, Mom. That’s all.” Zag hugged her again.

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. We know you’re safe—I mean, in one way. And Zeus couldn’t touch you. Dad thought he had something to do with it, so he made Zeus swear on the Styx that he would never lay an unwanted hand on you.” Milly bit her lip. “He... Are you...”

“I’ve been... I’ve been working in taverns and pubs and bars and clubs... Forever. It feels like forever.”

Emily turned as a shadow slipped over her.

Hades. Back. Standing behind her and Simeon as if he were afraid to see his own beloved Seph.

Maybe he is. Maybe he’s afraid she hates him for not finding her faster. Or fell out of love. A thousand years is a long time, I don’t care if you are a god.

“I was usually alone, or with one or two other women. One’s name was Mem, and she seemed so familiar. I believe she was an aunt of mine... No, I know who she was now, and it doesn’t matter what she told me.” Seph rubbed a weary hand across her brow. “My story changed location, but never pattern. I was a serving girl. I served mead, or grog, or ale, or fine wine—whatever the customer asked. Each night, the same customer. A handsome, charming customer. He would see me for several nights in a row, always pleading his suit, offering marriage, offering to take me away from this life. Sometimes life was hard—hard enough to make me want to leave with anyone, for any hope of a different future.”

Behind her, Emily heard Hades choke down a sob.

“And sometimes it was so amazing, riches, flowers, jewels, everything the world had to offer, laid at my feet. But the choice was always mine to make, and the condition was always the same. I had to go with the handsome man. He had a million different names but always the same face. I know that now, but... Things seemed to reset. Hard weeks ended, and I had hope again.”

---