Chapter 20

Eurydice had been staring out the window of Orpheus”s kitchen, her eyes fixed on the tree tops of her fruit grove. It haunted her—the way she watched Pan help her grow it, and how Orpheus once again tried to take credit for it. She tried to focus on those small interactions instead of reckoning with the events of the night prior. Eurydice didn”t remember much from the full moon ceremonies, but she remembered calling out to Pan. She retained every single second of their time together, the feeling of his body against hers. Pan set her body on fire, and he looked at her like he was willing to burn alive as collateral.

The scariest thing of all was the warm, fluttering feeling that had taken hold of Eurydice”s chest ever since. She was no stranger to casual sex; nymphs typically viewed sex as casual as eating and breathing. Eurydice was horrified to realize when she woke up to Pan”s sleeping frame that morning that it wasn”t a simple infatuation she held for him. One night together, nestled underneath the open sky and surrounded by Dionysian rituals, and a deeper, more eternal feeling had shaken Eurydice to her core.

There was no gentle progression of feelings through time spent together. No, this was as if everlasting, romantic love for Pan had been hibernating in her heart and woke up starving. She had to rip herself away from Pan”s sleeping body that morning, hating herself for every step she took farther away from him. It was the only thing she could do to even get to a place where she could think straight. Eurydice knew that she didn”t remember all the time she”d spent with Orpheus, but not a single memory came even close to the way she felt about Pan.

Everything about Pan was right. Ironically, it felt like a melody. This was something that Eurydice could dance to, an ebb and flow of trust and attraction that had been built over centuries of time spent together. It seemed that all Eurydice”s heart needed to get on board was the juxtaposition of Orpheus”s increasingly unhinged behavior and one night with Pan.

No, not even one night, Eurydice”s thoughts interrupted themselves. It was one head job. That”s all it takes for you to turn your attentions to someone else. Oh, the gods below and in Olympus. Am I horrible person?

Eurydice had dismissed the staff from the kitchen that morning, wanting to wallow in peace in the one room of the house that Orpheus would never willingly go into. She looked out at the fruit grove and down at her empty plate, debating going to pluck something off the heavy branches to eat.

”I”m an awful cook, but I”m happy to pour you a drink if you’d like.”

Eurydice squeaked and jumped up from her seat at the table, spinning around with her plate in her hand, holding it like a weapon.

”Hermes,” Eurydice let out a relieved sigh. ”I didn”t think I”d see you here this morning, of all places.” Eurydice blushed slightly and replaced the plate.

I can”t say that the first person I wanted to see this morning was Pan”s father.Eurydice knew their relationship was different than mortal sons and their fathers, but it still wasn”t a good reminder of everything she walked away from.

Hermes was dressed casually, stripped of anything that would identify him as a god. His entire presence exuded immortality and power, but his notable winged accessories and staff were missing. He leaned against the door frame, crossing his arms across his chest. He looked rather pensive as opposed to flirtatious, which was not how Eurydice was used to seeing Hermes.

”God of tricksters, the unseen, messages...” Hermes chuckled, ”the god of everything no one else wants to do, apparently. I can come up with a reason to be just about anywhere.”

Eurydice shook her head, some of her anxiety thawing in Hermes”s presence. His energy was similar to Pan”s in some way, and it soothed her. It took her mind off the fact that she was in Orpheus”s house.

”What”s your excuse for being here this morning?”

”Friendship.” Hermes winked.

”That”s Philotes.”

”Psh,” Hermes scoffed in reply, ”he”s a minor deity at best. I”m major Pantheon, my love. Consider it an upgrade.”

Eurydice laughed in spite of herself, nodding towards the empty seat at the kitchen table. ”Well, god of friendship, do you want to take a seat? I”m assuming Orpheus is sleeping off another hangover.”

Hermes gave a short bow in reply and sat down graciously, pulling a tiny, ancient looking jar out of a satchel. Eurydice hadn”t even noticed that he was carrying anything before. The tiny bag had been hidden between Hermes”s body and the door frame. She raised a brow.

”Should I be concerned?”

”You wound me!” Hermes cackled dramatically, going to tug on the small string that fastened the jar”s lid. ”I was just going to say that I have some kykeon if you want it.”

”Psychedelic kykeon? If so, I”ll have to pass.”

”Um, no,” Hermes flushed, ”not a psychedelic. It”s the barley variety.” There was something in Hermes”s countenance that Eurydice couldn”t identify, but she trusted him enough to know he wasn”t lying. Eurydice said nothing but nodded, pushing an empty cup towards him. Eurydice expected a cloud of dust to come out of such an ancient looking jar. The string practically disintegrated and fell away when Hermes touched it, the linen lid revealing a wax seal over the top.

”What kind of kykeon is this, again?” Eurydice stared at the artifact, sensing some sort of weak magical hum coming from it. Hermes looked like he was a kid who got caught looking for sweets.

”Damn,” he cussed under his breath. ”I always forget that you”ve got enough immortal in you to sense a magical object when you see one.”

”So it is a fucked up kind of kykeon!” Eurydice shrieked, her brow furrowing when she stared at the god. Kykeon came in plenty of different varieties. It was a fermented drink that plenty of peasants preferred to wine, but only occasionally did it function as a hallucinogenic.

”It”s not fucked up.” Hermes held up a finger. ”It is not a psychedelic. I wouldn”t lie about that.”

”Then what is it?”

”I... I can”t tell you,” Hermes sighed in defeat, letting out a frustrated grunt as he leaned back in his chair.

”You can”t tell me? Why do you want me to drink it?” Eurydice leaned a little closer, suddenly growing more intrigued as to what it might be that Hermes wanted to serve her.

”I can”t tell you that either,” Hermes grunted, looking increasingly upset. ”But do you trust me?” The question was loaded, and the atmosphere grew more tense between Eurydice and Hermes.

”Yes,” Eurydice nodded slowly, ”but only because I know if you do anything to me, Pan will be furious.”

”He”d kill me for it,” Hermes agreed easily. Eurydice”s heart skipped a beat.

Would Pan really kill a god, one of Greece”s most powerful gods, for me? Even if that god was his father? Before Eurydice had another second to contemplate everything that Hermes”s answer implied, she found herself reaching for the tiny jar.

”Will it hurt me irrevocably? Or put any of my loved ones in danger?” Eurydice grabbed the jar and brought it up to her nose, giving it a smell. She expected it to smell rancid, but it only reminded her of baby”s breath and poppies. It was a light, floral scent.

Hermes looked at Eurydice with a hopeful expression; she noticed how keen he was, for whatever reason, that she consume the contents of that magical jar. He leaned forward, his broad torso stretching across the table, and held out his hand for Eurydice to shake.

”I promise,” Hermes swore, ”that the contents of this jar will not hurt you or your loved ones irrevocably. I cannot promise that it will be comfortable. I cannot promise that it will not change the world in which you think you are a part of. I will promise it is necessary.”

His words were spoken with a solemn serenity. Eurydice had never seen that look in Hermes”s eyes before; he was deadly serious. He may have been a trickster, but it was apparent that Hermes was putting his honor on the line. Eurydice looked down at the unassuming jar in her hands, the dust rubbing off on her fingers and the clay warming in her palms. Eurydice swallowed thickly and met Hermes”s intense gaze. The air between them grew thick and Eurydice found herself nodding.

”Then I accept.”

Hermes nodded, sitting back in his chair and patiently waiting for Eurydice to drink the jar”s contents. She flicked a little bit of dust off the lip of the jar, took a deep breath, summoned her courage, and brought it to her lips. She held it with both hands and tipped her head back, consuming the jar”s entire contents in a few messy sips. It was syrupy and thick, but it tasted as floral as it smelled.

It dripped down Eurydice”s chin, staining the front of her clothes. Some part of the jar”s magic consumed her, and she was overcome with the urgency to keep drinking, greedily gulping it down. She nearly fell off her chair, gasping for breath when the jar was finally empty. She dropped it, and it fell to the kitchen floor and shattered across the tile, sending pieces of wet clay scattering all over the kitchen.

Eurydice collapsed back into her seat, her eyes fluttering closed as a sudden heaviness overtook her limbs. She didn”t possess the strength, it seemed, to keep her own eyes open. She faintly heard Hermes calling to her. There was more shouting. Two voices. Three? She tried to open her eyes, but it was impossible; her body felt like stone. She was faintly aware of her body sliding towards the ground and arms catching her to prevent her fall.

She could”ve sworn someone was shouting her name, but all the words sounded like they were underwater. Eurydice was hit with a sudden feeling of nausea, and her head threatened to explode under pressure—then everything went black.

* * *

The air smelled like sulfur. It was cloying and thick, as though it was fighting with the atmosphere to strangle the oxygen right out of the air. It made Eurydice feel sick, but she trudged on. One step after another. She couldn”t remember anything anymore; the only thing that rang out in her mind was a warning. Someone had warned her this might happen. They said walking out of hell was not for the faint of heart. Her memories might come and go. There was a chance that she would forget her own name.

There was no way to measure time; the portal between worlds existed in a universe all its own. The only point was to keep walking. One foot after another. Do not stop. Do not slow your pace. Do not increase your pace. Heel to toe. Do not stop. Eventually, the bridge would be crossed, and when she saw the full light of day, her memories would be returned to her.

The stranger had warned her a final time before she started on this journey with no end and no beginning—say nothing and follow Orpheus. Orpheus loved her. Orpheus would keep walking. They would not stop... Keep going until the sun appeared.

The rough stone cut the soles of her feet and burned her skin. Eurydice was caught in a state that was somewhere between walking and sleeping, dead or alive. The atmosphere burned her eyes. She stumbled and held her hands out to catch her fall, biting her own tongue to keep from crying out and betraying the vow of silence. Eurydice hauled herself to her feet, dropping her hands to her knees and forcing herself to take a few deep breaths before continuing.

Finally... finally... Eurydice thought that the shades of darkness surrounding her started to lighten. Ever so slightly. The pitch black started to ebb to gray in some places, the corners of her vision were a little brighter than they had been a few paces ago. An impossible sway of hope started building in her chest. Was this torture over? How long had she been walking? How long had she lived in the space between worlds, with no sky, no flowers, no trees?

It doesn”t matter, she reminded herself. You did this for Orpheus. You will reunite amongst the green trees and embrace the sweet earth you love again...and Orpheus. You will see Orpheus.

Eurydice”s heart swelled with love, and it gave her what she needed to keep pushing. One foot after another. She started to be able to decode some of the landscape around her, the rock-strewn path covered in stones. She was able to dodge them now, sparing her feet, and started to pick up her pace. Finally, she was surrounded by the low light of dawn. The world around her was bathed in shades of grey and blue. The light of the sun was so, so close. She could sense it. Every part of her body was attuned to it—being a nymph—and she ached for the sun and for Orpheus. He had braved the Underworld itself to come after her, and the songs he had sung her!

She felt lighter thinking about it. There was nothing she wouldn”t do for him; if there was anything she could do to make Orpheus feel as adored as he made her feel... Alas, that was why she was the muse, and he was the artist. There were times when he was hard to reach. More than once it had been obvious that his art was taking priority over Eurydice. But that was the cost of artistry, no?

Eurydice put those thoughts aside as the world around her started to glow. Far off in the distance, no bigger than a pin prick, she saw it—a tiny, warm ball of light.

The sun! Eurydice practically shrieked in her mind, keeping her lips tight together. She couldn”t make a sound.

She started running at a full sprint, pushing herself until her limbs were on fire. Eurydice could only think of Orpheus”s arms, of collapsing into his chest after so long. Her feet were torn to shreds. She wept as the air whipped at her face, but she kept running. The ball of light grew larger and larger until Eurydice could begin to see some of the outlines of distant trees. Soon! She would be in the warm sunlight, running with Orpheus through the grass, brushing her fingers through those golden curls while he wrote verses praising her beauty above all else”s. What it would be like in a few mere moments to kiss—

”Eurydice?” Orpheus”s voice cut through the still darkness like a knife. It ripped through Eurydice”s exalted visions and stabbed her directly in the heart. She tripped and went flying, barely avoiding smashing her head on a massive boulder lining the path. Eurydice scrambled to her feet, her pulse racing, trying to make sense of what happened.

There was Orpheus, standing at the mouth of the massive cave system they were in. His blonde hair was dripping with sweat, and he had a dismayed expression on his face.

”Orpheus!” Eurydice gasped. ”What have you done?” Eurydice was so horribly confused. ”I was right behind you! How could you not believe me?” Her voice increased in pitch as the sensations in her body started to ebb away; her fingers and toes were already going numb.

Eurydice was dying again.

”Orpheus!” Eurydice screamed, her voice cracking. ”O-Orpheus, save me! Please!” She tried to stand up but collapsed back to her knees, crawling towards him. She scraped her body across the ground as her legs stopped working. Eurydice watched in horror as Orpheus took several steps back from her, his face as pale as a ghost.

”Orpheus?” she gasped. Her entire chest threatened to cave in.

”I”m sorry.” Orpheus shook his head. Eurydice watched in horror as he turned around and sprinted for the opening of the cave, the bright light of the sun enveloping him as he disappeared completely.

”Orpheus...” Eurydice whimpered, collapsing to the ground as her arms gave out. She closed her eyes and started to sob, vaguely aware of Thanatos as he picked her up in his arms and carried her back to the Underworld.