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“Styx! Of course. Goddess of this river,” Persephone said, gesturing down to the water, “that we all swear by.” She bowed her head to the goddess, and said, “It is truly an honor.”
“Stand up!” Styx said shrilly, running forward a step. “Never do that again. To anyone. You are Queen of the Underworld now; act like it. Hades would have my head in one hand, and my body limply hanging from the other if he heard you even thought about bowing to me.” Styx scoffed, silver strands falling onto her face. She roughly brushed them behind her ear as she stalked back to her grotto. “Are you coming? Or do you plan to scream and cry out here some more?” She yelled at Persephone over her shoulder, not looking to see if she did in fact follow.
Persephone rushed inside, stopping at the entrance and staring inside.
It was the most beautiful dwelling she had ever seen. The cave was half brilliant green pool, the bottom laden with sea-green and sky-blue stones of varying sizes. No fish swam in the water, but Persephone thought she glimpsed something dark and dainty shoot behind one of the larger green rocks.
The rest was made of iridescent stone; pinks, and blues, and yellows blinking along their white backdrop. It had been carved and smoothed to widen the space with a long, dark hallway to her right, and a massive twirling staircase leading to the level above.
The ceiling was covered in rock formations, starting as thick stumps and ending high above her head in a sharp point. Clear water dripped from those teeth, sparkling as it fell to the floor, and into the brilliant pool.
As Persephone strode farther into the grotto, she could see a large dining area hidden by the entrance wall. Large, cushioned chairs were huddled in a circle around an oblong red marble table. Severalkylikescovered the red-veined top, all filled with wine, though Styx and Persephone seemed to be the only ones in the cave.
Up ahead, high on a ridge accessed by the stairs, stood a painted marble statue of Styx. Her dark hair somehow flowing through the marble, her body naked and exposed to the elements, and at her feet sat a tiny rendition of her husband, the titan Pallas. He gazed up at her hungrily, completely vexed by his nude wife, reaching for her breasts with one hand while the other was wrapped around himself.
Persephone looked away, her cheeks burning after glimpsing an incredibly personal, intimate scene carved into the stone for Styx’s eyes alone.
Styx looked toward the spot Persephone tore her gaze from and groaned softly. “I am so beautiful. Wish my disgraceful husband was not in it, but I did look good that century.” Persephone nodded her agreement, and looked up at the goddess, avoiding the statue. She was already looking at her. “You will have one carved in no time. I would actually be surprised if Hades hasn’t already commissioned it,” she said, her voice echoing across the expansive space.
Persephone couldn’t help the expression that crossed her face at the mention of Hades’ name, or the reminder of their ever-entwined lives as husband and wife. Styx didn’t miss the grimace, and smirked knowingly, nodding in a way Persephone had seen women do when another complained about her children, or husband. That ‘I completely understand, you don’t have to explain’ way that all women seemed to recognize.
“It is so incredibly nice to meet you, and I would love to do this again, but right now,” Persephone took a breath, “right now I have a god to kill,” she finished, her voice hard.
Styx nodded her head again, taking one of the glasses off the table and handing it to Persephone.
“I appreciate the offer,” Persephone said, not taking it, “but I really have to head home.”
Styx winked and said, “It will help with the nerves.”
The liquid lightly sloshing against the sides of the cold, marble cup – was everything Styx owned made of marble? – in her hands was clear. Not wine.
“What is this?” She asked, eyeing the drink and hesitantly bringing it closer to her face to smell it. It was pungent and floral, with a light honeyed undertone. It came crashing toward her face as Styx pushed the bottom up, and Persephone quickly opened her mouth just as the sweet floral liquid touched her lips.
It was amazing. It coated her mouth in a flavour she could only describe as happiness.
“What was that?” Her voice was soft and dreamy, sounding far away.
“Nothing,” Styx said, waving her off. “Something for the nerves, like I said. Now, shut up.” Her voice was suddenly cold and hard, nothing of the silvery sweet goddess Persephone had met initially remained.
“I know that you have come from Tartaros, and that you are heading back to Hades’ palace.” Persephone must have looked as confused as she felt because Styx said, “Hades came here to tell me to expect you, and that you would be taking the mountain. I don’t know why you were down there, or why you couldn’t simply fly back up here, and honestly,” she flicked her hair over her shoulder, and raised an eyebrow, “I couldn’t care less.” Her fingers wrapped around Persephone’s wrists, and she dropped the cup to the floor with a loud crack. Neither goddess looked down at the mess. “But you need to know that if you cross my river there is no going back.” Styx squeezed gently, her eyes softening a little. “You cross my river, and it sends Hades a message. That you are ready to take your position as Queen, and live in your palace. That you accept your new responsibilities, and your new husband.” She dropped Persephone’s wrists and stepped back.
Persephone was almost out of the grotto when she turned back to the goddess, standing where Persephone had left her with her arms crossed, and a sour look on her face.
“I can’t trust him,” she said, quietly. “I can’t. He—he broke a promise, and he sent me down there,” she said, her voice thick with anguish, as she pointed behind her. “With no help except for that cold breeze pushing me in whichever direction he wanted me to go. I was attacked—” she was cut off by her own sobs.
“Attacked?” Styx’s brows raised, and then fell as she said, “You must have imagined it. You were down there a long time, surely you hallucinated an attack. The titans are locked up tight.”
“Look!” Persephone cried, snot mixing with her tears as they streamed down her neck. She turned to show Styx where the bird-woman’s talons had dug into her. “A woman with wings, and talons, and—” Persephone took a shaky breath, “and she was covered in feathers. She grabbed me when I was falling down there. She wrapped her arms around me, and dug her talons in.” She was hysterical now; her arms flying around her as she relayed what happened, grabbing and tearing at her own body in demonstration.
When Styx said nothing, Persephone turned back to face her again, but she couldn’t read her expression, so she left.
As she walked out of the grotto, Persephone swallowed the fresh tears that dared to escape as she realized nobody down here was ever going to side with her against their King. It took the small amount of strength she had left to hold her heavy head high as she strode toward the river.
Short, quick footsteps behind her told her Styx had followed. Persephone stopped, giving the goddess a chance to catch up to her, but her steps ceased at the same time her own did. So, she turned to face her instead.
Styx’s eyes were bright in the dim light as she said, “You were attacked by one of the Harpies. They’re winged maidens who do Zeus’ dirty work for him; mostly kidnappings and other sudden disappearances are attributed to them. Anyone who Zeus decides needs to disappear are snatched up by the Harpies, never to be seen again.” She wrung her hands, clearly nervous to continue. “They are Elektra’s children, actually.”
She clenched her jaw and shut her eyes as the world rocked beneath her feet. Elektra had children she did not know about? Children with wings and feathers that she never mentioned. Did Melia know, too? Was Persephone the only one left in the dark about these Harpies?
