Series: Willow Winters
Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 94417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 472(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 472(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
“With what power?” he questions and my words leave me. For I know what I have taken from her but I wish to give her so much more.
He huffs, “If you truly loved her, you would feel the pain she has from the loss of the gift of Gods and the loss of her mother and life as she knew it.”
Silences stretches between us as I attempt to deny the truth he speaks. “I have never claimed to be a selfless God.”
Zeus glances at the windows, as if he might reach out through one of them and bend the mists of time to his will. That is surely beyond him, and if this problem could be fixed by doing so, there is no need to discuss it with me first.
Perhaps he is only thinking of a way without war.
Is there some path he could take that I have not considered? Thoughts riddle in my mind. Perhaps I offer a gift. Persephone accepts the seeds, and I will grant something for her mother. A letter, a vision, a way for her worries and loss to be soothed. Before I can speak, he interrupts the silence.
“I need her returned,” he murmurs, his gaze piercing my own.
I cannot accept her loss. I do not reinforce this by repeating myself. I have been perfectly clear.
Zeus meets my eyes once more, a glint there that speaks of determination. “Let me see her.”
“No.” My refusal is echoed in my mind with a chorus of agreement. No, the voices in my head say.
Zeus will not have my invitation. No matter what excuse he fumbles for to get it, I will not give it.
The urge to be with Persephone grows stronger. I need her where I can see her. Where I know Zeus has not gotten to her through some other method.
“I can only confide in Demeter with truthfulness if I can see Persephone myself.”
This is laughable, but I do not offer him humor. Bring her here within his grasp? Let him talk to her? Let him try to convince her that his way is the only one?
There is not a chance in any realm of that.
“Since when has truth been a requirement for your persuasion?” I ask him.
Zeus's mouth thins into a grimace, and then his expression breaks into the anger he has been attempting to subdue all this time. Outside the windows, a bolt of lightning cracks through the mists.
“Let me see my daughter,” he demands.
“Not at this moment, perhaps shortly.” I lift my eyes to his, “There is another way. I know it.”
“Time is not on our side,” Zeus warns.
“I require it.” Abruptly I stand, “Tell Demeter what you must. I will speak to Persephone.” With that, I leave him. Ignoring his screams of profanity and the thunderous bolt at my back that the light prevents from harming me.
PERSEPHONE
Hades is not in the bed when I wake, although I can feel that he was here last night. He left me to my own devices yesterday. I fell asleep waiting for him. Loneliness is all I have for my company this morning.
I wonder why he avoids me. Have I done something? Is there something that plagues him? Has he realized I’ve taken from him as easily as he took me from my own home?
It is completely different to be in bed with him when we are not at war.
I will always love you.
Some part of me wants to argue against the proclamation he made. It wants to argue that love can mean many things. My eyes drift to the bound grimoire on the table where I left it. It might not mean he wants me to stay here, for example.
If he loved me, would he not wish me to be with my family? Would he not regret the pain he causes me of losing my mother forever?
But—no!
I open my eyes and get out of bed before I can let those thoughts spiral too far.
I wash my face and dress simply, my mind caught between thoughts of Hades and the loneliness he’s left me with, choosing one of many pieces that appear in the wardrobe of the dressing room in the baths. Then I go out to the grate to practice my magic. If I concentrate hard enough, the flames disappear…
And I can make them come back again. I play with the fire now. It knows me and I know it.
It is only one fire, and only in this grate, but I love the sensation of having it work. For so long, I was filled with doubt that I would never have powers at all, and would become a nymph, wandering about the gardens aimlessly for the rest of my days. Nymphs cannot do this. And no one can take this away from me.
At the very thought, my body goes cold. Could I perform such spells in Olympus? Would my magic follow me there? It’s so difficult to keep that doubt away.