A Touch of Darkness (Hades x Persephone #1)(33)

She picked up the watering can she had bought at the flower shop and looked around. There had to be a place to fill it nearby. Her gaze fell on the garden wall. It might give her enough height to locate a fountain or a river.

Careful not to disturb her freshly planted seeds, she managed to scale the wall. Like everything else Hades owned, it was obsidian and almost resembled a vicious volcanic eruption. She navigated the rough edges carefully, only falling once, but caught herself, cutting her palm.

She hissed at the stab of pain, closing her fingers on sticky blood, and finally made it to the top of the wall.

“Oh.”

Persephone had glimpsed the Underworld yesterday, and yet it still managed to surprise her. Beyond the wall was a field of tall green grass. It stretched on for what seemed like miles before ending in a forest of cypress trees. Cutting through the lengthy grass was a wide and rushing river. From this distance, she couldn’t quite make out the color of the water, but she knew it wasn’t black like the river Styx. She was aware that there were several rivers in the Underworld, but she was too unfamiliar with its geography to even guess which one might be in the field beyond.

Still, it didn’t really matter—water was water.

Persephone climbed down from the wall and started across the field, watering can in hand. The tall grass scraped across her bare arms and legs. Mingled with the grass were strange orange wildflowers she had never seen before. Now and then a breeze stirred the air. It smelled like fire, and while it wasn’t unpleasant, it was a reminder that, though she was surrounded by beauty, she was still in the Underworld.

As she waded through the grass, she came upon a bright red ball.

Strange, Persephone thought. It was a larger-than-normal ball, almost the size of her head, and as she bent to pick it up, she heard a low growl. When she looked up, a pair of black eyes stared back.

She screamed and stumbled back, ball in hand. One—no, three, black Dobermans stood before her. Then she noticed their gazes were focused on the red ball she held in her hand. Their growls turned into whines the longer she held it.

“Oh,” she said, looking at the ball. “You want to play fetch?”

The three dogs sat tall, tongues lolling out of their mouths. They were powerful looking animals with sleek, dark coats and cropped ears.

Persephone threw the ball and the three bolted. She laughed as she watched them fall over each other, racing to claim it. It wasn’t long before the three returned, the ball in the jowls of the one in the center. The dog dropped it at her feet and then the three sat back obediently, waiting for her to throw it again. She wondered who had trained them.

She tossed the ball again and continued until she reached the river. Unlike the Styx, the water in this river was clear and ran over rocks that looked like moonstones. It was beautiful, but just as she moved to draw water, a hand clamped down on her shoulder and drew her back. “No!”

Persephone fell and looked up into the face of a goddess.

“Do not draw water from the Lethe,” she said. Despite the command, her voice was warm. The goddess had long black hair, half of it was pulled back, and the rest fell over her shoulders, past her waist. She dressed in ancient clothing—a crimson peplos and a black cloak. At her temples, a set of short, black horns protruded from her head, and she wore a gold crown. She had a beautiful, but stern face—arched brows accentuated almond-shaped eyes set in a square face.

Behind her were the three Dobermans.

“You are a goddess,” Persephone said, getting to her feet and the woman smiled.

“Hecate,” she said, bowing her head.

Persephone knew a lot about Hecate because of Lexa. She was the Goddess of Witchcraft and Magic. She was also one of the few goddesses Demeter actually admired. Maybe that had something to do with the fact that she wasn’t an Olympian. In any case, Hecate was known as a protector of women and the oppressed—a nurturer in her own way, even though she preferred solidarity.

“I am—”

“Persephone,” she said, smiling. “I have been waiting to meet you.”

“You have?”

“Oh yes,” and then she offered a laugh, which seemed to make her glow. “Since you fell into the Styx and had Lord Hades in an uproar.”

Persephone blushed.

“I’m sorry I scared you, but, as I am sure you’ve learned, the rivers of the Underworld are dangerous, even to a goddess,” Hecate explained. “The Lethe will steal your memories. Hades should have told you that. I will scold him later.”

Persephone laughed at the thought of Hecate scolding Hades. “Can I watch?”

“Oh, I would only think to reprimand him in front of you, my dear.”

They smiled at each other and then Persephone said, “Um, but do you happen to know where I might find some water? I just planted a garden.”

“Come,” she said, and as she turned, she picked up the big, red ball and threw it. The three dogs took off through the grass. “I see you have met Hades’ dogs.”

“They are truly his?”

“Oh yes. He loves animals. He has the three dogs, Cerberus, Typhon and Orthrus and four horses, Orphnaeus, Aethon, Nycteus, and Alastor.”

Hecate led Persephone to a fountain buried deep in Hades gardens.

As she filled the container she asked, “Do you live here?”

“I live in many places,” she said. “But this is my favorite.”