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She realized in that moment, she was afraid to say anything about the contract because that might mean disappointment. It might mean the realization that this would never work.
And that would break her.
***
Persephone met Lexa and Sybil for lunch at The Golden Apple. Luckily, with Sybil present, Lexa didn’t ask any questions about the kiss, though it was possible Sybil already knew the details. The girls talked about finals, graduation, the gala and Apollo.
It all started because Lexa asked Sybil, “So, are you and Apollo...?”
“Dating? No,” Sybil said. “But I think he hopes I will agree to be his lover.”
Persephone and Lexa exchanged a look.
“Wait,” Lexa said. “He asked? Like...for permission?”
Sybil seemed amused, and Persephone admired how the oracle could talk about this so easily. “He did, and I told him no.”
“You told Apollo, the God of the Sun, perfection incarnate, no?” Lexa sounded shocked and looked slightly appalled. “Why?”
“Lexa, you can’t ask that!” Persephone chided.
Sybil just smiled and said, “Apollo will not love one person and I do not wish to share.”
Persephone understood why Sybil wouldn’t want to get involved with the god. Apollo had a long list of lovers that spanned divine, semi-divine, and mortal, and, as the God of Light’s list had proven, he never stayed with one person too long.
Conversation lapsed into making plans for the weekend, and once they had decided where they would meet for drinks and dancing, Persephone left for the Underworld.
She watered her garden and found Hecate in her cottage. It was a small home, nestled in a dark meadow, and while it was charming, there was something…foreboding about it. Perhaps it was because of the coloring—the siding was dark grey, the door a dark purple, and ivy crawled up the house, covering the windows and roof.
Inside, it was like she had stepped into a garden filled with night-blooming flowers—thick, purple wisteria hung overhead like clusters of stars in a blackout night while a carpet of white nicotiana covered the ground. A table, chairs, and bed were crafted of soft black wood that looked as if it had grown into the formation of each piece. Orbs rose into the air and it took Persephone a moment to recognize what they really were—lampades, as they were called in the Underworld. They were small and beautiful fairy-like creatures with hair like night, laced with white flowers and silvery skin.
Hecate wasn’t sitting on the bed or at the table, but on the grassy floor. Her legs were folded under her, and her eyes were closed. A lit black candle was in front of her.
“Hecate?” Persephone asked, knocking on the doorframe, but the goddess didn’t stir. She stepped further into the room. “Hecate?”
Still no response. It was like she was asleep.
Persephone bent, and blew out the candle. That’s when Hecate’s eyes snapped open. For a moment, she looked positively wicked, and Persephone suddenly understood the kind of goddess Hecate could become if she was pushed—the kind of goddess that turned Gale the witch into Gale the polecat.
When she recognized Persephone, she smiled.
“Welcome back, my lady,” Hecate said.
“Persephone,” she corrected, and Hecate smiled.
“I’m only trying it out,” she said. “You know, for when you become mistress of the Underworld.”
Persephone blushed fiercely. “You are getting ahead of yourself, Hecate.”
The goddess raised a brow and Persephone rolled her eyes.
“What were you doing?” Persephone asked.
“Oh, just cursing a mortal,” Hecate replied almost cheerfully. The goddess reached for the candle and got to her feet. She put it away and turned to face Persephone.
“Watered your garden already, dear?”
“Yes.”
