A Touch of Ruin (Hades x Persephone #2)(78)

Persephone’s brows knitted together. “What are you saying, Hecate? That I should abandoned my life in the Upperworld?”

She shook her head. “You think in extremes,” Hecate said. “You are either a goddess or a mortal, you either live in the Underworld or the Upperworld. Do you not want it all, Persephone?”

“Yes,” she said, frustrated. “Of course, I want it all, but everyone keeps telling me I can’t!”

A slow smile crept across Hecate’s face. “Create the life you want, Persephone, and stop listening to everyone else.”

Persephone blinked, absorbing Hecate’s words.

Create the life you want.

Up until this point, she thought she knew what kind of life she wanted, but what she was realizing now, is that things had changed since meeting Hades. Despite her struggle to accept herself and understand her power, he had shifted something inside her. With him came new desires, new hopes, new dreams and there was no way to attain those without letting go of old ones.

She swallowed hard, her eyes watering.

“I messed up, Hecate,” she said.

“As we all do,” the goddess replied, standing. “And as we all will. Now let’s channel some of that pain and clean up the mess you made in the grove. Consider it practice.”

Persephone didn’t argue, finding that she was strangely motivated.

The two left Hecate’s cottage for the grove. Persephone knew when they were close because she could smell rotten fruit—a terrible mix of sugar and decay.

“The goal is to collect all the dead pieces and make them into ripe pomegranates,” Hecate said.

“How do I do that?”

“The same way you destroyed it—except you want to control how much power you use.”

Persephone wasn’t sure she could, but she remembered the time she spent with Hades and how he taught her to focus her power. That memory made her chest ache in a way she never thought possible.

Magic is balance—a little control, a little passion. It is the way of the world.

“Imagine the pomegranate whole, a delicious crimson color.”

Hecate’s voice faded away as Persephone focused on her task.

Close your eyes, she heard Hades whisper in her ear, and she obeyed as her breath caught in her throat. She could have sworn she felt the scrape of his cheek against hers.

He continued to whisper.

Tell me what you feel.

Warmth, she thought.

Focus on it.

As before, it started low in her stomach, and she fed it, tortured by thoughts of Hades.

Where are you warm?

“Everywhere,” she whispered, and imagined all that warmth in her hands, the energy growing so bright she could barely look at it, like a sun in the palm of her hands, or a dying star.

Open your eyes, Persephone. She swore his breath caressed her skin.

She did, and the shimmering image of a pomegranate sat between her hands. She took a deep, deliberate breath, guiding her hands to the earth, and as she did, pieces of rotting flesh rose from the ground and gathered. Before long, the grove smelled of fresh, ripe fruit, and several whole, red pomegranates lay at her feet.

When she looked at Hecate, the goddess was clearly surprised.

“Very good, my love,” she said.

Persephone would have smiled, but she found that her success at reconstructing the pomegranate was overshadowed by an acute sadness. It made the world feel heavy and her body feel sluggish. She blinked rapidly, hoping to keep her tears at bay.

She wasn’t sure if Hecate could sense her turmoil, but the goddess was quick to distract her.

“Come, I will teach you to make poisons as promised.”

The two returned to her cottage, and Persephone sat beside Hecate, who had picked and bound several varieties of plants.

“What is all this?”

“The usual. Hemlock, daphne, deadly nightshade, death cap, angel’s trumpet, curare.”

The goddess explained which parts of each plant were deadly, and how much it would take of each to kill a target. She also seemed to delight in explaining how the plant would kill.

“What would poison do to a god?” Persephone asked.

A ghost of a smile touched the goddess’s lips.

“Thinking of poisoning Apollo?”

Persephone could feel her cheeks redden. “N-no!”

Hecate laughed quietly. “Do not feel guilty for contemplating murder, my dear, most gods have done far worse.”

Persephone knew that was true.

“Poison would likely have little impact on Apollo, except to make him very sick, which would be just as fun. Talk about no consequences.”

Persephone laughed, and filed that bit of information away for later.

They spent a while crushing leaves and oils into powerful concoctions until Persephone’s hands hurt from using the mortar and pestle and her eyes stung from the potency of the plants. At one point, she started to rub her eyes, when Hecate’s hand clamped down on her wrist.

Persephone yelped, mostly from surprise. She didn’t know Hecate could move that fast.

“Don’t.”

Hecate led Persephone to a basin. She washed her hands and waited for Hecate to finish up before they made their way to the Asphodel Fields.

“I have finalized your gown for the Summer Solstice,” Hecate said. Persephone’s stomach felt unsettled. She knew what the goddess was trying to do. She’d already commissioned a new crown for Persephone to wear for the occasion. She was trying to turn her into some sort of queen, and on the heels of her fight with Hades, that made her anxious.