Underworld's Daughter Page 7

  Demeter still wasn’t speaking directly to Hades. Hades understood and tolerated it, but Persephone privately told him that her patience with her mother was wearing rather damned thin. However, Persephone seemed to be curbing her irritation for tonight and concentrating upon breaking the news to her aunts and uncles.

  An immortality discussion was too dangerous for the mortal realm; they might be overheard. But several of the immortals still loathed venturing into the Underworld, so they didn’t hold the meeting there either. Hades felt it was just as well, as he preferred to keep the exact tree’s identity and location secret as long as possible. So they had gathered on a beach alongside the gulf near Zeus and Hera’s palace.

  After their explanation, Persephone stood and walked around the fire to show everyone her healed scars. She switched realms before their eyes and came back again. The other immortals murmured in astonishment or stayed silent in thought. Demeter looked perturbed, her hands clasped tight in her lap. But Aphrodite jumped up with a squeal of delight and hugged Persephone.

  Meanwhile Hermes spun to shove Hades on the shoulder, and said, “Hades, you lucky sneak! I would have called dibs if I knew there was a chance.”

  “And I still would have said no,” Persephone told him, but she grinned.

  Ares, the soldier whom people were calling the god of war, studied Kerberos. “The dog too, you say?” He swayed a spear back and forth, its tip on the ground.

  “It would appear so,” Hades said.

  Ares rose, and before Hades realized what he meant to do, he had done it. The spear flew and skewered Kerberos through the belly, emerging out the other side and pinning him to the sand. Blood splashed. The dog yelped a choked sound and went into spasms.

  Several people shouted in protest, and Aphrodite threw herself across to seize Ares’ arm, but he had moved too fast. Hades bellowed in rage and leaped upon him, knocking Ares’ head back against the log he’d been sitting on. “What in the Goddess’ name is wrong with you?” His hands tightened around Ares’ throat.

  A glance back showed Persephone and Demeter crouching by Kerberos. Persephone broke the spear and yanked it out, and she and her mother soothed the dog with gentle hands. Hades returned his attention to strangling Ares, whose neck was being crushed in satisfying fashion beneath his hands, and whose face was turning purple. But Aphrodite and Zeus and Poseidon hauled at him and clamored for him to let go, and since he wasn’t going to succeed in killing the fool, he finally relented and did so.

  Ares lay a short while gasping and rubbing his throat, then sat up and glared. “It’s an important thing to test,” he spat out, his voice croaking. “Would you rather I threw the spear at your wife?”

  Hades lunged for him again, but his friends restrained him.

  “He’s recovering,” Persephone called, her voice proud and cold. “You wish to see your test? Come look.”

  Though Hades and Ares exchanged glowers, they joined the group clustering around the dog. The bleeding from the spear wound was already slowing, and Kerberos was moving and breathing more easily, though he panted in pain. Persephone stroked his head, and Demeter used a handful of leaves to wipe away more blood and show the healing skin. Persephone sent her a grateful, chastened glance. A breath of solace softened Hades’ anger—at least mother and daughter might be reconciled, if only temporarily and only where innocent animals were concerned.

  Hades sat in the bloodstained sand beside Persephone, and drew the dog’s head onto his lap. “Try that again and the spear goes in your belly,” he said to Ares.

  Ares answered with a mocking half-bow, and returned to sit on his log.

  Hermes gave Aphrodite a pitying, probing smirk, as if to question her frequent dallying with Ares—a relationship (if one could call it that) that was no secret to anyone. Aphrodite sighed in response, with a look that seemed to beseech Hermes to tolerate a man less intelligent than himself.

  Athena studied Persephone and Kerberos with her arms folded. “So the question is, do we give this fruit to anyone else?”

  “Indeed, that is the question.” Artemis still sat upon a rock, chin on her hand, watching the flames. She hadn’t bothered rising for the scuffle. It took a lot more than such antics to alarm her. “You were nearly one of us already, Persephone. We all love you, and I’m sure we would all have chosen you as the first to eat it anyway. But who else deserves it?”

  Persephone rose from her crouch. “We thought it only fair that all the immortals should decide as a group. Perhaps bring forth candidates and then cast votes. Anonymously, with a black stone to vote ‘no’ and a white one to vote ‘yes,’ as people do in some cities.”

  “Would a single black stone veto a candidate?” Hera asked. “Or does the side with the largest number of votes carry the day?”

  Persephone glanced at Athena. “What do you think?”

  Athena scooped up a handful of beach rocks. “There are now fifteen of us. What do you all say to a two-thirds majority?” She tipped a few rocks into one palm. “If five or fewer say no, and ten or more say yes, then we acquire a new immortal.”

  “That seems fair,” Rhea said.

  The others voiced agreement.

  “How many candidates may each of us present?” Poseidon asked quietly.

  Hades, and probably everyone else, thought at once of Poseidon’s situation: a wife and three daughters, all of whom he would surely wish to give the fruit to.

  Persephone made the same calculation. “Perhaps four?” she said.

  “Well, I know I won’t be proposing any,” Hera said. “All my children are long dead, and my grandchildren don’t know me. I can’t think of anyone I’d bother keeping around forever.”

  “We should definitely think about it a while,” Apollo said. “This would be a bad time to be impulsive.”

  “Well, the next fruits won’t be ripe for nearly a month,” Persephone said.

  “Then we shall give it another month,” Athena proclaimed, “and meet again with the names of our candidates.”

  Again the group murmured assent.

  “In the meantime,” Hermes said, “aren’t you going to show us this fruit?”

  “I admit I’m dreadfully curious,” Aphrodite agreed.

  Hades caught Persephone’s glance, and drew strength from it before answering on their behalf. “We’re not sure that’s wise.”

  “It isn’t that we don’t trust you…” Persephone began.

  “Yes it is,” Hades muttered, not looking directly at Ares—and, in truth, it wasn’t merely Ares he distrusted. He shuddered at the idea of the chaos Zeus might create by immortalizing one lover after another, sneaking them down to the Underworld to find the fruit.

  “Someone could easily become desperate to use it for a loved one,” Persephone explained, “and might go so far as to take it without asking the rest of us. I’m sure we can all imagine a situation where we’d do that ourselves.”

  “But the two of you could do it without asking the rest of us.” Hermes studied them, looking shrewd now rather than affectionate.

  “The dog’s and Persephone’s immortality happened purely by accident,” Hades said. “We live in the Underworld, with the ghosts, exactly as none of you wished to. You might find a similarly powerful discovery on the surface yet. You’re welcome to look.”

  “It’s the Goddess’ wish that you should find it,” Rhea said. She gazed at them from across the fire. “And that you should control it, at least for now. I respect your choice, and see its wisdom. I suggest we all do the same for the time being, and think instead about who among mortals is truly worthy to join us.”

  The others already looked absorbed in their thoughts, and nodded in acceptance. All except Hermes, who jumped up and tagged along with Persephone, Hades, and Kerberos as the meeting broke up.

  “Honestly? You’re not going to show it to me? After all I’ve done for you?”

  Hades peered at him. “What exactly have you done for us?”

  “I took
your side! I wanted you two to get together. And I’m not afraid of your realm, the way most of them are. I happen to admire it.”

  “Hermes, we love you,” Hades said, “but you rarely do as you’re told, and you always do as you wish, and I haven’t the slightest idea what you’d do with an immortality fruit, but I’m sure it would be both creative and disastrous.”

  Persephone laughed, and petted Kerberos, who was already well enough to walk and wag his tail.

  Hermes pointed from her to Hades. “My revenge on you for not showing me the plant could be equally creative and disastrous.”

  Persephone let go of the dog, stepped up to Hermes, and slid her hands around his neck. “Someday, Hermes. But please wait just a little longer?” She added a gentle kiss on his lips, which looked sultry enough to stir a spark of jealousy in Hades.

  She stepped back. Hermes remained silent, gazing at her with interest and gratitude. “Oh, very well,” he finally said. “As long as that’s how we greet each other from now on.”

  She grinned.

  Hades rolled his eyes and latched his arm around his wife. “Come on, darling.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Sophie unpacked the groceries onto the tiny counter in the Airstream’s kitchen. Her head spun from her busy day, and she was glad when Adrian stepped outside to take Kiri for a walk. It gave her a few minutes to think in silence.

  Though it was only 6:30 p.m., darkness had fallen outside beneath a cloudy sky. Dead leaves and twigs clicked against the trailer’s exterior, flung by the October wind. Tomorrow was Halloween, and she had no particular plans for it, and no costume. That was a first. Halloween had always been a huge deal when she was growing up. The produce stand sold truckloads of pumpkins along with corn stalks and other “falloween” decor, as her mom called it. Sophie and Liam also helped with the neighbor’s maze in the cornfield—they set up hay bales, scarecrows, and jack o’ lanterns, and lurked in scary costumes to leap out at the kids navigating the labyrinth.

  This year she had met lots of actual ghosts and was well on her way to becoming the queen of the Underworld, but for once she didn’t have any Halloween plans. Strange.

  She set out the butternut squash and Yukon Gold potatoes for the soup she planned to make tonight, and leaned back on the counter to check email on her phone. Her inbox held an assortment of messages from her parents, Tabitha, and others. Nothing looked important, and the sight of Tab’s name still caused a twitch of jealousy, so she composed a message instead:

  Hey guys,

  I’ve found a room to rent in a house with a bunch of other students. Address is below. It’s a short walk to campus and should be handy, and they’re nice people. Got to deal with dinner—love you!

  She addressed it to both her parents and Liam, and after a moment of hesitation, added Tab too, though soon she’d tell Tab her real living situation, of course.

  The house was shared by five other students at OSU, one of whom was a grad student, the T.A. for Sophie’s chemistry class. This morning, her brain fried from looking through the online housing ads, Sophie found herself rambling to the T.A. after class about needing to find a new place to live. All Sophie really needed, she confessed, was a place to keep stuff and a bed to pass off as her own if her parents visited, but in truth she was going to move in with her boyfriend, and she didn’t think her parents would understand; hell, she wasn’t sure herself if it was a smart move…

  The grad student had jumped in with the assurance that she had done the same thing when she was starting college, and if Sophie wanted, she and her friends had a room Sophie could pretend was hers. In truth it was another girl’s, who was similarly always sleeping at her boyfriend’s, but Sophie was welcome to move in if she didn’t mind sharing this front (and some closet space) with the other girl, and tossing in, say, a hundred dollars a month to help out with rent.

  Sophie went with her to see the house, and decided it looked safe and genuine and totally unaffiliated with Thanatos. She shook hands with her new housemates whom she’d rarely see, moved out of the dorm (choosing a time of day when she wouldn’t run into Melissa), split her possessions between the house and the Airstream, and changed her address with the student records department. Given her recent history of being the victim of attacks and intrusions, they were especially willing to honor her request that her information stay unlisted.

  So here she was, shacking up in the spirit realm with the boyfriend she’d met about a month ago—though, of course, really they’d known each other for millennia. See, Mom and Dad, that’s why it’s okay.

  For the last few days her mind had wrapped itself into knots. She worried she’d get on Adrian’s nerves, or he’d get on hers, and they’d mess up the lovely relationship they had begun. The worry had even interfered with their physical relationship. Though she’d spent nights in the trailer before, and spicy ones at that, it felt different now that she had moved in. Her desire for him had hit a dry streak; or, at least, only extended so far before shriveling up as anxiety reabsorbed her brain.

  “I’m sorry,” she had mumbled to him the first night, when she withdrew from his probing kisses in the dark. “Everything’s…I don’t know.”

  He promised her it was fine, and let her fall asleep with her back pressed up against him.

  Then it happened the second night too.

  “It’s not you,” she lamented. “It’s just, moving in together, it’s so…”

  “Domestic and boring?” He sounded slightly amused, at least. On top of being hurt, that is.

  “No. Not really. I’m stressed, is all.”

  He lay back, not touching her except at the hip and knee, which the confines of the small bed required. “It’s all right. Doesn’t have to happen every day. Nor work perfectly every time.”

  “Do you want me to…I mean, I can…” But the reluctance came through in her voice, which made her feel twice as awful, because her distaste wasn’t his fault. Such one-sided favors were the kind of thing she had begun doing for Jacob a few weeks before college began, as the relationship sputtered out. So although Adrian absolutely wasn’t Jacob, doing such things when she wasn’t in the mood still carried unpleasant associations for her.

  “No, you don’t have to.” He sounded distant, and she sensed he was still awake, hours later as she finally fell asleep.

  Yeah. Living together had its speed bumps, indeed.

  But she did love him and wanted to stay with him. And in that case she had to be in this realm in order to stay safe. And until the next orange ripened, she had to keep relying on him to switch her back and forth between realms if she intended to continue her regular student life. Which she did, for now. A normal human life still mattered vitally to her. Thus she was, indeed, the mythic Persephone, commuting between the realm of the dead and that of the living, all because of a complicated link to Hades.

  Funny how that worked out, as Adrian had said to her once.

  She sighed and navigated back to her inbox, ready for a distraction. She opened Tabitha’s email. It was a link to a video posted online, which, when Sophie tapped it open, turned out to be Tab at some party in an elegant room. Hundreds of small lights lit the living room or conference hall or whatever it was, some bulbs twinkling, some glowing steady, all in a spectrum of colors. Arrangements of flowers and potted trees gave the place an expensive feel, as did the sleek hairstyles and trendy evening clothes of the people in the crowd.

  On the video, recorded on someone’s phone, Tab wore a slinky, shiny emerald green dress Sophie had never seen before. Her hair had been set into perfect long gleaming waves, and she wore the kind of makeup only a professional could paint on. Beside her stood a scruffy-bearded guy, maybe forty or fifty years old, wearing a tux with a guitar strap over it. He looked familiar, but Sophie couldn’t place him.

  “So Grange,” Tabitha was saying, “you confess you have a soft spot for some very silly songs.”

  Grange Redway, of course. One of the pioneers of grunge roc
k. Sophie opened her mouth in astonishment.

  “I do,” he said.

  “And will you sing some for us?”

  “Yes. Of course.” Grange spoke with the lofty gravity of a certain stage of drunkenness. He swung his guitar into position and began strumming gently. “This is from a cartoon several of us watched when we were kids. Maybe you’ll recognize it. Go ahead, sing along.”

  Adrian entered the trailer with Kiri as Grange began singing. “Hey,” Adrian said. When Sophie didn’t answer, Adrian moved up beside her and looked over her shoulder at the screen. “Is that Grange Redway? From Red Merlins?”

  “Yeah.” She stared at the video. “With Tabitha.”

  The silly song, performed with such seriousness and artistry, was hilarious. Sophie saw the humor even though she didn’t laugh right now. Tabitha requested another, and Grange launched into a new one.

  “What’s she doing hanging with Grange Redway?” Adrian asked.

  “I don’t know. I mean, he lives in Seattle I think, but it’s not like you can walk up to his door and invite him to your party. Or whoever’s party this is. Even if you’re immortal.”

  They kept watching. Tabitha urged Grange on to two more songs, each funnier than the last. At the end, the voice of the person recording threw in a few words of encouragement, and Sophie and Adrian groaned in recognition.

  “Niko,” Adrian said. “Of course. That’s how you meet a rock star.”

  “Niko knows him?”

  “He has a way of knowing people. The more rich and famous, the more he courts them. I’m sure none of them have any idea who he is, nor do they likely care, as long as he keeps bringing them whatever they want. Flattery usually, perhaps more money, drugs, fans…” Adrian gestured at the video. “A chance to show off.”

  Sophie lowered the phone as the video ended on a frozen blur of the final shot. “I could tell her we’d rather she didn’t hang out with Niko. In fact, why is she hanging out with him? She knows what he did to us.”