Page 50 of Where Darkness Bloomed
There was no command in it. Only certainty. Perhaps it was that calm gravity—or her own damnable curiosity—but she tentatively reached for his hand then.
He drew her gently into the pool. The warmth of the water curled around her, rising past her hips, soaking through her chiton.
“It’s warm,” she breathed, captivated.
There was a faint curve to his lips as he turned away, guiding them toward the waterfall. It shimmered like a veil of starlight, cascading brightly over shadowed stone. Wateralive with memory.
Then Hades lifted his free hand. Light bloomed in his palm, hardening into the form of his bident. The twin prongs glittered darkly as he lifted the weapon, then touched the falling water.
A familiar voice spoke softly across the water.
“Kore. I will call her Kore.”
Wonder lit through her, breath catching as she whispered, “My mother—”
But before she could finish, his arms slipped around her, strong and certain. She looked up and found his eyes, filled with shadow and fire and something deeper still.
Then, without a word, he plunged them beneath the surface.
The world dissolved into silver light.
Chapter 22
Kore braced for the sensation of drowning.
But instead, she felt weightless, suspended in a sea of hoary light. The water around her dissolved into air, her limbs drifting free, though she still felt him against her back.
Then her feet touched solid ground. She opened her eyes—and gasped.
The temple of Olympus materialized around her, white columns reaching to the star-strewn heavens above.
A familiar voice pierced the silence.
“Artemis!”
Kore blinked at the sight before her, certain her eyes were betraying her.
Her mother. Demeter reclined on a low couch, sweat dampening her brow, her face twisted in pain. Lower, her swollen belly strained, tight with the pangs of birth.
Shock rose, then ebbed—
Impossible.
“Mother!” Kore cried out, lurching forward, but her feet found no claim against the floor.
“This is only a memory.” Hades now stood at her side, watching the scene before them. “She cannot hear you.”
Demeter’s face contorted, her bloodless fingers gripping the linens beneath her.
Artemis knelt at her side, silver-clad and serene, grasping her hand tightly. “All is well, Demeter,” she soothed. “Aphrodite is coming.”
As if summoned by her name, Aphrodite swept into view, her arms full of soft linens, honeyed hair catching the torchlight.
Demeter groaned, her face tight with pain. “Where is he?” she gritted through her teeth.
The goddesses exchanged a tense glance.
Aphrodite knelt at her side, placing a calming hand on Demeter’s knee. “We have more important work at hand,” she said firmly. “Your child is coming now.”
