Chapter 1

Eurydice’s life was simple. Life was easy when you were dead.

In her opinion, the simple things were the most glorious. Most mortals and gods alike never stopped to smell the flowers; she hadn’t when she was alive either. Eurydice had created flowers with every footfall, but she had never stopped to enjoy them. In the Underworld, she had all the time in the world because time didn’t exist at all.

The memories of her life in Greece were foggy at best, as if she was constantly trying to remember a dream. It didn’t bother her because it didn’t seem real. The only horrors she remembered facing were the first few days of her time in the Underworld.

Eurydice woke up in a small valley, near a stream, unsure of what she was supposed to be doing or where she was. The ends of her hair were damp, and the top of her tunic was soaked, but she couldn’t remember going for a dip in the water. She wandered for two days, afraid to stray too far from the river, until Makaria found her and took pity on her. The goddess of blessed death was gentle and sweet, taking it upon herself to give Eurydice a tour of Asphodel. Eurydice had to be reminded she was dead.

Luckily, part of Asphodel contained a great forest. Eurydice wept when Makaria showed it to her. It was full of the spirits of other nymphs and dryads who’d perished. They greeted Eurydice like an old sister.

There were no chains around Eurydice anymore. Her lost memories faded. The idea of another life was merely like an aftertaste to her, something to soon be washed away forever. There was only the untamed wilderness of the forests of Asphodel, tended to by the creatures of the forests under Persephone’s insistence. The Dread Queen’s rise had not diminished her duality. She still took her obligation to the flowers and their spirits to heart.

So Eurydice memorized the petals and what the tips of orchid stems looked like. She helped the trees grow and cataloged every inch of the forest. She filled her days with soft songs and softer melodies, creating a life that had only ever existed in her dreams until then. Erebus’s darkness greeted them all like family, encouraging their night-blooming orchids and sleepy vines. The forest’s denizens brought Hecate every herb or bud she could ever ask for.

When Eurydice thought everything was perfect, it only got better. Pan arrived in the Underworld—still very much alive and immortal—after discovering a workaround that allowed him to visit Hades’s realm. Eurydice wept for the first time since her death, brushing tears of joy off her cheeks, now that her best friend had returned to her. All of the nymphs and creatures of the forest belonged to Pan and she could never forget him.

Eurydice finally had everything she had ever wanted.

It was on a perfect, warm afternoon when everything started to change. Eurydice was lounging on a tree branch, keeping one sleepy eye on a chrysalis that was due to be reborn. Her lithe body was stretched out across the tree like an extension of it, the perfect picture of repose, while her long hair shone like copper in the light.

Telodice, one of Eurydice’s good friends, was among the first nymphs that Eurydice met in the Underworld. She took a liking to her immediately, and they’d been thick as thieves ever since. Eurydice never asked her how she’d come to end up in the Underworld, but Telodice had never asked her either. It was an unspoken rule—it was offensive to ask and could be traumatic to retell.

At this point, I’m not even sure I remember… Eurydice struggled to put together a coherent string of thoughts regarding her own passing but never bothered to think on it for too long. There was always something more fun to be doing.

Telodice was currently sitting underneath Eurydice’s tree branch, leaning against the trunk with her eyes closed. She was humming to herself and running her fingers through the grass before she shot straight up.

“Eurydice?” Telodice’s voice was much too hurried for Eurydice’s liking—she sounded upset. Eurydice glanced down at her friend, who was now nervously braiding her long blonde hair.

“Yes? Is something wrong?” Eurydice sing-songed. Her voice was melodic. It always sounded like she was going to break out into song.

“Did you ever send the herbs Hecate requested to her house? I’ve just realized I can’t remember at all if I did it.”

“Of course.” Eurydice waved her hand like she was shooing a fly. “Is that what you’re concerned about? I handled that a few days ago.”

“Oh, thank the gods.” Telodice giggled happily, a sated smile growing across her face once again. “I thought for a second that we’d forgotten.”

“Do you think anyone forgets anything Hecate asks them to do?” Eurydice asked drolly, joining in with Telodice’s laughter.

This was what the sum of their days looked like—fussing over requests for flowers and plants by the other citizens of the Underworld, lounging in the sun, or dipping into the cool streams that cut through the trees.

Eurydice and Telodice were musing about their plans for the upcoming summer solstice. Even in the Underworld, the celebrations were large enough to rival any of the other festival days.

“Is Pan going to join us?” Telodice asked, peering up through her thick lashes at Eurydice.

Eurydice blushed and nodded her head enthusiastically.

“I asked him last week. He said he wouldn’t miss it. Apparently, he needs to make sure he stops at a few parties in the mortal realm first, but he’ll be here by nightfall.”

Telodice clapped her hands with glee. “Did Menidise decide on a menu yet?”

“She said something about not having enough figs…” Eurydice trailed off as a soft sweep of power rippled through the glade. It was a gentle, encouraging signature, and Eurydice knew exactly who to expect.

As if on cue, Makaria, the goddess of blessed death, appeared through the trees, her shining hair giving her away before she got too close.

“My friend,” Eurydice said as a way of greeting. She propped herself up on one elbow, extending a hand to Makaria. “It’s always good to see you. To what do I owe the pleasure? Do you want more irises for your home?”

“Were the last ones we sent the wrong color?” Telodice piped up.

“No, no.” Makaria shook her head. “The ones you gave me were perfect. Thanatos loved them.”

Eurydice smiled. I highly doubt Death himself cared much for the flowers, but he does love everything that Makaria does, including constantly renovating that house of his.

“Do you need something else for your garden?” Eurydice tilted her head.

Makaria didn’t respond as she stepped fully into the glen. Telodice got to her feet and bowed slightly, addressing the goddess with the proper honorific. Eurydice sat up straighter, frowning when she saw the empty expression on Makaria’s face. A cold shudder ran through Eurydice, something she realized she hadn’t felt since she came to Asphodel...dread.

“What is it?” Eurydice’s voice sounded breathy and frightened. It startled her how much she’d changed and how she didn’t recognize the sound of her own anxieties. Telodice seemed to pick up on it too, quickly glancing between Eurydice and Makaria.

A beat of silence passed between them.

Makaria looked torn, as if she didn’t want to tell Eurydice something.

What could have possibly upset a death goddess so much?Eurydice’s brow furrowed farther. She knew the gods of the Underworld were not the heartless deities that Olympus would have you believe, but Makaria was resoundingly tough when she needed to be. Makaria took a deep breath and closed her eyes, all her words rushing out of her at once.

“I suppose there’s no easy way to tell you this. Orpheus has died. He’s on his way to the Underworld. Thanatos is with him.”

There was a beat of silence, and Eurydice felt everything, all at once.

Except she didn’t know what she was feeling. Her heart started to pound in her chest, and foggy remnants of sadness and betrayal started creeping up her spine.

“Who’s Orpheus?” Telodice frowned, starting to bite at her nails, clearly picking up on the tension now cutting through the clearing. Eurydice and Makaria didn’t respond. Eurydice’s hands started to shake as she jumped down from the tree branch before she had a chance to fall.

Makaria was immediately at her side, reaching out to put a hand on her shoulder. “Do you… Do you remember Orpheus, my friend?”

Makaria was studying Eurydice’s expression intently, looking for something. Eurydice didn’t want to disappoint one of her companions, but she had no idea what Makaria was expecting of her. A quick glance at Telodice proved that she was just as confused about what was happening.

“H-he sounds like something from a memory,” Eurydice whispered. Her face was pale, and some of the flowers closest to her started to droop. Makaria nodded as if that was very understandable and gently led Eurydice to a small pool, helping her sit down on one of the smooth rocks at the edge of the water. Telodice held her hand.

“You were married in Greece, Eurydice. Does that sound at all familiar to you?” Makaria spoke in low, soothing tones. Eurydice wasn’t annoyed by it. She rather preferred it at the moment—even if it was somewhat infantilizing. Telodice gasped in quiet surprise.

Suddenly, flashes started going off in Eurydice’s mind. She remembered her friends dancing with flowers in their hair, a great banquet, a winsome smile…and a snake?

Why do I remember a snake?

“You were bitten by a snake on your wedding day.” Makaria prodded gently, and Eurydice realized she’d been thinking out loud.

“Oh. Yes, yes.” Eurydice’s heart started beating faster. “I was married. There was a wedding. We were so happy, but… Pan wasn’t there. I was sad.” Eurydice started massaging her temples as flashes of scenery started flickering through her mind like smoke, easy to see but impossible to grab and analyze. Something was burning in her chest like there was a hot coal sitting between her breasts.

“Shall we ask him?” Telodice piped up. Makaria threw her a withering look and a raised brow, and Telodice quickly nodded and fell silent.

“I was married and then I died.” Eurydice picked her head up and looked at Makaria for confirmation. She nodded her head.

“Do you remember anything else?” she asked, and Eurydice got the feeling once more that she was missing something.

“No?” Eurydice’s voice rose as the missing pieces in her memory started to frighten her. “What else could I be missing? You only die once! I was married, and then I died, I died, I died…” Eurydice started to trail off, pulling her knees up to her chest and rocking back and forth.

“Ssh, that’s quite enough. Don’t worry about it,” Makaria soothed, wrapping her arms around the nymph. “You don’t need to remember anything. No one will force you.”

“I remember Orpheus,” Eurydice whispered, staring past Makaria and Telodice as though they weren’t even there. “I remember Orpheus.”

“Do you want to see him?” Makaria sighed, gently pushing some of Eurydice’s hair off her face, the way a mother would tend to a child. “You don’t have to. It’s your choice.”

“What if he wants to see her?” Telodice interjected, her eyes round and wide with curiosity. Makaria snapped her attention to Telodice and held a finger to her lips, indicating that Telodice’s contributions were not helping.

“Does he want to see me?” Eurydice looked at Makaria, breathing heavily.

“It doesn’t matter what he wants. What do you want?” Makaria looked troubled, as if this entire conversation wasn’t going in the direction that she thought it would. If Eurydice hadn’t been so completely overwhelmed, she would’ve pushed Makaria harder.

“I… He’s my husband.” Eurydice repeated the words robotically. Her fingers trembled, and some of her confidence ebbed away. “I want to see him. He’s my husband. A bride should always want to see her husband, right?” Eurydice looked up at Makaria for guidance, trying to scan the goddess’s face for any clues as to what she should be doing—but Eurydice had never been very good at interpreting what was happening between the lines.

“Eurydice…” Makaria started and stopped, letting out a long sigh. “If you want to see him, then I’ll bring you to him. It’s as simple as that.” Makaria’s smile was forced—Eurydice could tell—but she nodded anyway. Eurydice slid her hand into Telodice’s and squeezed it, repeating the words as though saying them aloud again would ease some of the chaos in her mind.

“Yes, of course. I’m a wife. I want to see my husband again.”

Eurydice’s voice cracked, and some of the joy drained from her eyes as she said it. Makaria and Telodice were wise enough not to say anything else.

“I’ll tell Thanatos that we’re coming.”