Chapter 2

Once Persephone’s eyes adjusted to the blackness, she realized she was on a steep stone-covered road. Everything around her was made of rock, from the massive boulders boxing her in on either side to the crags hanging from the ceiling. The path twisted ahead of her, descending further into the even darker depths. Yet, they still called to her, practically beckoning her forward. It should have been terrifying, but Persephone put one foot in front of the other.

She didn’t know how much time passed in the depths. She walked down, down, down…several times. She barely avoided cutting her feet open on the hard stones. But every time she narrowly dodged a misstep, a voice whispered in her ear.

Not there! Step left! Bend your head!

The same dark magic that had been stirring in Persephone’s veins was singing to her now, talking to her in a genderless and ageless voice. It directed her further away from the sunlit fields of Greece above, guiding her toward Tartarus itself. Somehow, in the darkness, the goddess of spring wasn’t afraid of the lack of light and the utterly consuming darkness. She took solace in the black powers that guided her step, even though she knew she should be terrified.

It’s probably more a testament to how fucked up Demeter is if you’re preferring the guidance of mysterious hell magic to your mother’s. Persephone refused to feel guilty about it as the walk continued. She was not afraid but pleasantly relieved to be removed from the burden of Demeter’s oversight on her life.

Persephone walked until she wondered if she’d ever see anyone again. There was no light or shadows to indicate the passage of time. The voice had gone quiet. Persephone debated turning around and beginning the long ascent back up toward the mortal world until a soft glow of blue light started to flicker in the distance. Persephone picked up her speed and ran towards it, suddenly desperate for an end to the quiet darkness.

Soon, the light grew, similar to the moon’s, and Persephone stumbled into a massive cavern. The air was thick with the smell of sulfur. Persephone tore a piece of cloth off the edge of her chiton, tying it around her mouth and nose to avoid the fumes. She looked around the cavern and nearly dropped to her knees in shock.

Two massive doors stretched taller and higher than any mortal building or temple Persephone had ever seen. They glowed in the soft light, made of solid obsidian, and each inch was covered in delicate carvings. Persephone took a careful step forward, as if she was suddenly afraid of setting off an alarm, and studied the faces etched into the rock. She started to identify the inhabitants of the Underworld based on features alone; Persephone had never been introduced to the Chthonic gods. Demeter had considered their very existence an insult, but Persephone charmed many mortals into telling her stories of the Underworld.

At the very top, watching over it all, was Hades.

Well, Persephone assumed it was Hades. While mortal women had happily described Hecate’s righteous anger and men waxed poetic about Erebus’s faithfulness to his wife…not a soul would describe Hades. They spit when Persephone said his name and accused her of casting his eye on them.

Persephone looked up at the massive carving, larger than life, and stared into the empty stone eyes. She couldn’t repress the shudder of heat that ran through her, studying the strong features and long hair. Her thoughts were jumbled, and her heart rate jumped for the first time since venturing beneath the surface.

“He’s a handsome fucker, but portraits are always a little too flattering.”

“Fuck!” Persephone screeched, nearly jumping out of her skin when a voice materialized beside her. She spun around, and her fear quickly turned to annoyance. “What the fuck, Hermes?” Persephone groaned, crossing her arms over her chest.

Hermes was grinning from ear to ear, floating a few inches off the ground. Persephone had seen him in his many forms—youth, Olympian, and aged man—but he appeared before her now as the most common form. A beautiful god with bronze skin, angelic features, and curly blonde hair. His winged sandals adorned his feet, but his helm and caduceus were hidden.

“Kore, my endless one,” Hermes crooned, holding his arms out, “it’s not every day that a goddess attempts to walk to the Underworld.” Hermes raised an eyebrow. “Did you think that wouldn’t set off some alarms?”

Persephone shifted her weight uncomfortably, looking anywhere but Hermes’s gaze. She’d complained to him before about Demeter. He’d been supportive, but Hermes talked shit about every god.

“I couldn’t do it any longer. I really couldn’t. She refuses to see me for who I am, and there’s this—” Persephone stopped. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to tell Hermes about the dark power that had started running through her veins. “I just can’t.” Persephone ended awkwardly.

Hermes cocked his head as he looked at her, studying her. Persephone wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly cold and fidgety under the weight of Hermes’s evaluation. She knew better than most Olympians that underestimating the messenger was never a good idea.

When he said nothing for several minutes, Persephone finally broke the silence.

“And don’t call me Kore.”

Hermes nodded. “Persephone it is.” He looked towards the massive doors. “Any thoughts on how you’ll get inside? What’s your next move, my sweet springtime?” He fluttered his eyelashes.

Persephone smirked, sauntering towards Hermes and throwing her arms around his neck. Her lips dropped into a perfect pout, and she batted her eyes in retribution.

“Messenger,” Persephone whispered, “thrice great, would you be ever so kind as to help sneak me through the gates of the Underworld?” Hermes held impossibly still for a moment, and Persephone wondered if he would kiss her. He quickly shuddered, broke the moment, and detangled Persephone from him.

“Fuck the gods.” Hermes looked at Persephone with a mix of fear and awe. “They weren’t kidding when they said you were a fertility goddess, huh?” Persephone laughed and flicked some of her hair off her shoulder.

“Don’t worry, my little cherub,” she winked, “you aren’t my type.”

Hermes scoffed and started walking towards the doors. “I’m everyone’s type, my springtime seductress.”

Persephone hid her relief at Hermes’s aid as she stepped behind him. “One day, Eros is going to put your ass on the line.” She smiled. “And I, for one, can’t wait to see the day.”

“Ha!” Hermes rolled his eyes. “I’d like to see him try.”

“He’s got wings too.”

“Only one pair.” Hermes turned around. He pointed to the wings on his sandals and gestured where his winged helm usually sat on his head. “I’ve got two.”

“I think his are bigger,” Persephone smirked.

“It’s all about how you use them,” Hermes grunted, placing his hand on the doors. A burst of green magic illuminated the cavern, flooding the crack between the doors as they began to swing open. “Besides, I don’t think Eros could find anyone strong enough to tie me down.” Hermes grinned and waggled his eyebrows.

Persephone opened her mouth to say something, but the door swung wide. Her jaw dropped as sunlight flooded the cavern, revealing stunning fields beyond as far as she could see.

“Praise the gods,” Persephone muttered under her breath, taking a cautious step forward. “Is this… Is this the Underworld?” She slowly approached the doorway, leaning over the grass as if afraid to enter.

“Ah, beautiful.” Hermes looked out over the landscape. “The doors of the Underworld always look different to those who approach them. It’s typically a bit more fire and brimstone. But the fields of Asphodel are always a lovely sight.”

Persephone was awestruck. The sun was warm on her face, and she could smell the flowers and the grass. It was hardly the barren land of torture and despair that Demeter had promised her. Persephone’s last shred of respect or trust for Demeter was gone in one second—just one glance—out over the fields.

“It’s… It’s beautiful.” Persephone choked out the words, staring out over the idyllic paradise. “How does Apollo manage to get sunlight down here?” She turned towards Hermes. He merely shrugged in response.

“That’s not my territory. ‘As above, so below’? You’ll have to ask Hecate.”

“Hecate!” Persephone whispered excitedly. “Oh, I’ve heard such wonderful things about her. Is she lovely?” Persephone looked at Hermes expectantly. He smiled as if only now realizing how sheltered Persephone had been from the Chthonic gods.

“She is a night terror and fearsome goddess, who most Olympians would do better to fear. She’s hardly a minor deity of the Underworld.” Hermes winked. “You’ll love her.”

Persephone clapped her hands together, practically giddy. She didn’t know why she’d always held such an interest and fascination with the gods of the Underworld, but she was delighted with the idea of speaking to some in person.

Persephone took a deep breath and delicately placed one foot over the threshold. She held her foot in the air for another second then stepped into the warm grass. Black magic erupted from her fingers and toes when her foot touched the soil. It wrapped around her like a spider’s web, dancing across her skin and mimicking the patterns of her veins. For a brief second, it looked like Persephone’s circulatory system was outside her body.

“Fuck!” Hermes cursed. As soon as he swore, it vanished. Persephone was left gasping, flexing her fingers and toes and ensuring everything worked properly.

“What was that?” Persephone looked at Hermes expectantly, but he held his hands up in surrender.

“I know I’m the god of a lot of things, but not whatever the fuck that was.” Hermes shook his head. “Maybe getting you to Hecate sooner rather than later is a good idea.”

Persephone only nodded her head. Her day had taken a dramatic turn, and her adrenaline was dropping. Hermes nodded and wrapped an arm over Persephone’s shoulder, kissing her temple affectionately as he did so.

“I’m proud of you, you know.” His voice was whisper soft as they started walking towards Hecate’s house. The unexpected, familial warmth nearly brought Persephone to tears. Her mother was many things, and ‘loving’ was not one of them. Persephone turned to face Hermes, but as soon as she opened her mouth, she was cut off by a thunderous barking sound. Her face paled, and she whipped around, trying to find the face of the threat.

Cerberus was emerging from the tall grasses, bounding towards them rapidly. The noises he made shook the earth, his jaws hanging open as he bayed. Cerberus was a molossus, as tall as a war horse and built almost entirely of muscle. Her face brightened when Persephone saw a dog making the horrendous noises.

She dropped to her knees and held her arms out wide. “Puppy!”

“Persephone,” Hermes warned, “I don’t know if I would do that. Cerberus recognizes my scent, but I’m not sure if he…” Hermes stopped as Cerberus locked his sights on Persephone and shifted into a more manageable size—still massive, slightly more dog-shaped.

Cerberus’s sounds turned into excited yips and howls, knocking Persephone over as he playfully crashed into her.

“Oh, what a cutie!” Persephone giggled, pushing herself up on her elbows. “Who’s a good boy?” She started cooing, scratching Cerberus behind the ears and everywhere else she could reach. She was covered in dog hair and drool when she managed to stand.

Hermes raised an eyebrow as he studied the pair. “Curious.”

“What is it?” Persephone prodded, keeping one hand on Cerberus as they resumed their walk.

Hermes shrugged.

“Probably nothing. I’ve never seen Cerberus greet a stranger with affection, though. He’s more of a ‘bite first, ask questions later’ kind of monster.”

“He’s not a monster!” Persephone’s voice rose an octave as she scratched Cerberus’s ears again. “He’s a baby!”

“Persephone,” Hermes laughed, “it’s hardly an insult to call someone a ‘monster’ in the Underworld. It might even be a point of pride. When it comes to Cerberus, it’s also the truth. He’s the offspring of Typhon.”

“Fine,” Persephone rolled her eyes, “but he’s also a sweet baby with three faces for kisses.” Hermes held his hands in surrender; he knew when he’d lost a battle. Cerberus remained at their side as they walked, falling into companionable silence. Persephone’s eyes were wide as she took in the sights and sounds of the Underworld. She struggled to reconcile the Underworld her mother had always described to her compared to the one she was in now.

The air didn’t smell of sulfur, and her feet weren’t charred from brimstone. Not a single ghoul, ghost, or shade had materialized to ravish her or steal her soul. It was rather the opposite. She was in a field caught in an eternal springtime, with Hermes as a walking companion.

“Shit.” Hermes cursed, stopping where he stood. Persephone followed his lead, looking at him in confusion.

“What’s the matter?”

“That is Hecate’s house.” Hermes indicated a beautiful, simple home on the horizon. “I think she’s entertaining other guests at the moment.”

“Is that a problem?” Persephone shifted her weight uncomfortably. A wave of insecurity flooded her system. Her mind immediately jumped to the conclusion that Hermes must be embarrassed of her; after all, she didn’t know anything about the Underworld, its residents, or its customs. She wasn’t even appropriately dressed as a goddess; for god’s sake, she was wearing the much shorter chiton of a young girl.

“No, no,” Hermes shook his head quickly, “it isn’t. But perhaps…” he trailed off, deep in thought for a moment. “It’s probably best if you don’t go by Persephone.”

“What?” Persephone flushed red. “Is there something wrong with me?”

“Of course not.” Hermes was quick to cut her off. “But Demeter has a certain reputation in the Underworld, and there are going to be some repercussions once the Olympians learn you’ve fled down here, of all places.”

A chill went down Persephone’s spine at the thought. Her mother was probably already at Mt. Olympus, screaming threats in Zeus’s ear.

“I don’t want to think about that right now,” Persephone admitted.

“Well, the gods know I don’t ever want to spend any extra fucks thinking about Demeter.” Hermes rolled his eyes, lightening the mood. “No one would blame you if you wanted to cut a little loose. To do so, however, I’m…recommending that you don’t go by Persephone. Or ‘Kore’, for that matter.”

“The Arcadians call me Despoina,” Persephone shrugged, “Will that work?”

Hermes looked startled. “Despoina? Yes, yes, that will work rather well. That’s a chthonic name.”

“Is it?” It was Persephone’s turn to look startled.

“Yes.” Hermes waved his hand like he was shooing a fly. “But never mind. We can discuss that another day.” He gave a little bow and indicated towards Hecate’s house again, then offered Persephone his elbow.

“Shall we, Despoina?”

Persephone laughed, looping her arm through Hermes’s as they set off again for Hecate’s homestead.

“Lead the way, messenger.”

Hermes did, telling Persephone all the stories she’d never heard before and giving her a rundown of the Chthonic gods—including Minthe, the nymph who was always trying to sleep with Hades, and Thanatos, who was the closest thing to a friend Hades had.

Persephone mentally filed away all the information for later, trying not to focus too hard on the fact she’d finally run away from Demeter.