Page 136 of Where Darkness Bloomed
The silver brightened. A voice stirred, whispering through the air.
“Thetis.”
Her heart pounded, and she looked down at the silver water. For one breath, she hesitated—
Then let herself fall back into the pool.
***
The world solidified from swirling mist, sharpening into form around Persephone. Sand crumbled beneath her feet, cool and coarse.
Slowly, the memory took shape.
The Epirus coastline stretched before her once more, bleak and familiar—the same rocky shore she had just tread.
Instinctively, Persephone turned, watching as Thetis emerged from the sea with her child. Saltwater streamed from her robes, the tide whispering around her ankles. Her bare feet left wet imprints on the sand as she moved toward the cliffs, toward the crystal cave hidden within their dark embrace.
“Thetis!”
Persephone spun at the anguished cry behind her.
In the distance, a tall man sprinted across the beach, his golden hair catching the sun like flame. A circlet gleamed on his brow, sweat glistening along his temples. But the look on his face—
Desperation, raw and pleading.
His hand reached for the retreating goddess as he ran. “Thetis!” he shouted again. “Please!”
“King Peleus!” A breathless sentry raced after him. “You cannot follow where she goes!”
At the cavern’s edge, Thetis faltered. Just for a moment.
Her gaze swept back toward the king, her sea-bright eyes raw with regret. Then, without a word, she disappeared into the waiting dark.
The vision wavered. Mist coiled upward, thick and white, swallowing the shoreline. Then the cliffs and sea were gone.
Persephone stood on the banks of the River Styx, the mountains far in the distance.
Unlike the crashing falls near the temple, the current moved slower here, calm as dark glass.
At the water’s edge, Thetis knelt.
The goddess cradled her child, her fingers brushing tenderly through his downy hair. He slept within the folds of his wrap, oblivious to the world.
When she spoke, her voice barely rose over the river’s hush. “There is no god to whom I can offer prayer for you, little one,” Thetis whispered. “This must be done in secret. Trust in your mother’s love.”
A single tear slipped down her cheek, and she pressed a trembling kiss to his crown. Then, hands shaking, she unwrapped the swaddling clothes.
The infant stirred at once as the cool air nipped his skin. A thin, piercing cry rose and his arms flailed, small fists clenching as his little body trembled in protest.
Once he was naked, Thetis gripped one heel firmly in her hand. Pain twisted her features, but she did not hesitate.
Leaning forward, she plunged the babe beneath the dark waters of the Styx.
“No!” Persephone screamed, lunging forward.
But her feet found no hold. She stumbled, helpless and horrified, as the river closed over the child.
The moment stretched, unending.
