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My lips tremble, and though I want to believe her but I’m scared to hold out hope.
She takes my hand and pulls me into the cloud. “Let’s go get the men you love.”
“But how?”
“A goddess can’t go on her own, but Daughter, you’re a Shade, able to travel between worlds.”
“Then let’s do this, Mother, together.”
20
Hawthorne
The three of us leave the toll booth and return to our boat. We’re silent, because with Tennyson gone, what is there to say?
We row down the river, but it’s difficult. We’re fading and it’s hard to push the oars through the murky water. We’re weak, making love to Tennyson seemed to sap our strength.
Finally, we stop. We’re so tired our arms can no longer propel us forward.
“I just want to fade,” Lennox says. “Being here without her is too painful.”
“I know,” South agrees. “She was the light to this place. Without her, it’s nothing but darkness.”
“Let’s go to the field then, maybe we can nudge ourselves into the abyss,” I say.
We dock the boat and begin to trudge up a hill toward the field full of buried spirits.
“I can’t believe it ends like this,” I say. “After everything…”
“I thought Hades was giving you eternal life on the surface?” Lennox says.
I scowl. “He must have learned that I betrayed him.”
We look around, knowing ghouls lurk around corners and behind trees, everyone here hoping for a morsel that will help them bargain with Charon.
We fall to the ground, exhausted. I close my eyes, knowing our time has come.
The light, it comes for me.
It’s so bright and my eyes are forced open, though they shouldn’t be able to move. My body should fade away as my soul is taken. Instead, my body seems to be returning.
“Hey,” I shout, reaching for South, but he is already standing, looking up, and so is Lennox, reaching above him as a pure white cloud beams light down on us.
“What the hell?” I say.
But then I see her face, peering over the edge of the cloud. Illuminated and alive and whole and mine.
“Not hell,” she says. “This is heaven.”
And it is.
Tennyson is there, dropping a rope made of white thread from the cloud. Her purple hair glows against the white of the cloud, her eyes shining like the sun I’ve never once seen. I grip the rope, unable to believe this is real.
I climb up to her in the cloud, dropping the rope for Lennox and South. Another woman is here, and one look at the divine creature and I know it is Persephone, Tennyson’s mother.
“You’re sure this isn’t a dream?” I ask, cupping Ten’s face with my hands.
“No,” she says in barely more than a whisper, her lips nearing mine. “This, Hawthorne, is love.”
After
On Mount Olympus, in my rightful place, I call for my daughters.
How long have I waited for this moment?
They arrive together, an army of men at their sides.
The Siren with her four sailors.
Her belly swollen with child, her hand held by a man with dark black hair and bright blue eyes. Serene with pale pink hair whipping around her face, the ocean speaks through her. Not because she pushes the waves, but because she rolls with the tide.
The Wolf with her pack of three.
Her pregnancy no surprise, wolves are made to mate. Her red hair fiery and brows arched, but she’s been refined by the fire. She is no longer a lone wolf, and she knows most importantly, that she is enough. The earth roars and she moves, settling the score.
The Phoenix with her five hawks.
Her body slight, but her feathers announce a majesty that all must abide by. She has risen from the ashes and she is not afraid. She is fierce, and she is exact, the sky listens when she calls.
The Shade with her three men, now immortal.
Her power lies not in what she has seen, for her life has been confined to a small space. But her strength dwells in knowing how precious life is. When you’ve lost so much you cherish every moment. Hell must fear a power so true.
They look at me with wonder, with trepidation, with fear.
“You want to know how this has all come to pass?” I ask my daughters.
Their eyes full of questions, they nod, walking closer.
My soul rejoices at the moment I’ve wanted all their lives.
“Come, Daughters, let me start at the beginning.”
Their Goddess
Daughters of Olympus
BEFORE
I never wanted to fall in love.
All I wanted was a child.
I'm the Goddess of harvest... but of fertility too.
I'd waited until I came of age.
When I finally turned twenty-one, nothing would get in my way.
I didn't need a partner, a lover, a mate.
I wanted to conceive. It was my life's purpose. My single aim.
There were plenty of gods to choose from.
But there were four that I was interested in.
Love, at first sight, was a myth, a legend, a ruse.
