Page 66 of His in the Dark

The corner of Silvie’s mouth turns up slightly. “I think it will be you.”

A chill runs through me as Silvie inclines her head and leaves. Her steps are the only thing I can hear as I watch her go. I close the cover of the book and lay it on the table.

It takes a few moments before I can think clearly. Surely I am not meant to save anyone in this state. I swallow thickly, removing the thought entirely from my mind. If I am to be Queen of the Underworld, and Hades believes it as truth, then there is something I will do.

With the thought echoing in my mind and the chill having an unrelenting grip on me, I return to the grate and concentrate my power into it. The power of the Queen of the Underworld.

The flames spring to life without hesitation. My eyes widen, almost in disbelief, but I refute the notion, and instead I tell the flames what I want of them.

I sit before them and watch as they dance, letting my gaze settle on them, considering the power there. I wish to play with it, to grow it, to feel the warmth and desire Hades gives me. The power I took from him. I know I did such things even if it was not my intention. For I am more powerful today than I was before.

What appears in the flames comes slowly. At first, I think it is just shadows, but I keep my eyes soft, and the image clarifies.

In the flames, I see my mother, crying. Dread slips into my blood and my lips part with a pain of seeing her cry.

Tears stream down my face slowly, but it stopped mattering to me long ago. What difference does it make if someone sees me? None. If I must cry, I will allow it. And in this moment, the absence of my mother but knowing her pain is too much for my soul to bear. I wish she could see me light the fire. I wish she could know the power I feel in this place.

Tears flow from me as I watch her scream and thrash against my father who wishes to calm her. His sorrow is evident and I cannot stop my emotion but I am grateful for it and I do not care if anyone sees it. The flames are swept away by the wind and mymother is gone. But it doesn’t take long for the fire to play before me another scene.

In the vision, there is a knock at the door, and it opens to reveal Zeus, a servant hovering by his side. He steps across the threshold with the servant and takes in my quarters in Olympus, which is spacious, with graceful wood floors and plaster walls. These may seem like mortal touches to others, but they are mine. Beatrice’s love for them grew on me years ago.

My father gazes to the plants that once grew here. I see them the way he must.

All the flowers have died. The fruit has withered and spoiled. None of it grows anymore. None of it bears life.

Zeus looks back at me, I swear he sees me. I can feel his eyes on me. And I can see in his eyes that he thinks I have met the same fate. A coldness of death flows through me as the back of my eyes prick with tears.

But no—I am still present.

I watch him blankly, feeling nothing except grief, raw in my chest. It occurs to me that I should stand to greet him.

I stand, but no words leave my lips.

“Demeter.” Zeus clasps his hands in front of him. “Many Gods come. They bring many gifts.”

“They are not my Persephone,” she replies. “Bring her back to me!”

He lifts one hand. “Demeter?—”

“How am I to know she’s well?” she rasps, her voice etched in raw pain. “How am I tolivewithout her?”

I wish to scream to her, but my voice is silent.

“Demeter,” he says again, but she does not care to hear what he has to say. She does not care to see his face.

The feelings break loose like a plant bursting out from a seed and racing toward the sun. One with many thorns that cuts and tears at my insides.

This feeling—this horrible, bleeding feeling—wretches through me as my mother answers my father.

“If I must suffer, so must all. So willyou.” With that the fire goes out and I’m left stunned wondering if what I witnessed, even the hissing of my mother was real.

Olympus

Demeter

I slamthe door in Zeus’s face and pace away, the anger simmering within me. A full moon has passed and there is no word! How could they not have found my daughter? There is betrayal and I know it so. I have been still for many hours, and now I feel as if I will burn alive if I do not walk.Move. If I do not do something.

How dare he come to me without her.With gifts?As if anything could replace her?Come to me with the severed hands of those who stole her from me!

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