“Persephone,” I breathed unwittingly.
“It would appear the Day of the Dead is upon us.” She inspected each of us individually; her golden eyes seeing much more than our physical appearances. “You have come to fulfill your essence,” she stated simply, as my heart skipped a beat. I hadn’t been expecting that she would know who I was.
I raised my chin slightly and stood up straight.
“Yes,” I proclaimed with dignity.
“Antiquity trace,” she commented; clearly intrigued by my newest addition. “Very interesting.”
Her curious gaze did not deter the excitement I felt at finding out what my trace stood for.
“It’s a pity your parents wanted nothing to do with you,” Persephone provoked with a conspiring gleam in her eye.
“You and I both know that was not the case,” I shot back; assuming if she knew who I was, she had encountered my parents when they were killed and came to rest here. The corner of her mouth lifted ever so slightly as if I had passed some kind of test. I took note that there were no smoky tendrils swirling around her body. Maybe it was only her daughter who was filled with pure evil.
“It still remains to be seen if their many sacrifices were in vain,” she challenged me with a smirk.
“I don’t have to prove my worth to anyone,” I held her gaze. “The fact that I’m here should suffice as your answer.”
“Stasia…” I heard Phoebe hiss behind me in warning, but I held my stance easily. I refused to let anyone doubt my integrity, especially not a jaded, bitter queen. Unfortunately for Phoebe, her warning only diverted Persephone’s intense deliberation to her. Phoebe visibly squirmed under her powerful stare, but Persephone only smiled.
“A muse; so innocent and naïve,” she declared softly; continuing to stare at her; her expression quickly changing from a smile to a smirk as she shook her head in disgust. “Love is such a fickle thing. Don’t expect it to last. He will inevitably become bored and move on to someone else.
They always do.” As Phoebe shrank back in horror at her words, Persephone moved her piercing stare to Carmen.
“A protector,” she labeled her and then narrowed her eyes. “And very hard to read; a strong spirit. Too strong. You often become blinded by it.”
“Strong is a good quality,” Carmen carelessly defended herself.
“Strong is a prideful quality,” Persephone snapped at her, and then lowered her voice quickly, “but one I can appreciate.”
She returned her overwhelming gaze to me as I began to grow impatient. Not knowing how much time had passed, I was anxious to continue. She stepped towards me and her golden eyes darkened considerably.
“I deny you admittance,” she announced with venom. The finality of her denial caught me off guard, but I soon recovered and took a step towards her with renewed confidence. Ending my journey at the entrance was not a viable option.
“That’s not good enough,” I countered with conviction. She moved closer still and sneered wickedly at me.
“And why do you propose I should step aside and allow you entrance, young goddess?”
“It’s the right thing to do,” I affirmed.
“According to who?”
“Every day I wake up is a day I’ve fought for. Every mistake, every laugh, every tear, and every sunrise; I’ve earned through years of abuse and pain. I carry those memories with me as a reminder of who I am and what’s truly worth fighting for. And if you aren’t able to see that, I’m afraid your soul searching talents are highly suspect.”
Her now shining eyes met my gaze and her beautiful features softened. In that brief moment, I felt her darkness. Slightly chilled around the edges with a glowing warmth within; it reached out and enveloped me. The next second it disappeared and she straightened.
“You are bestowed admittance.”
Chapter 35
“I think I need a change of pants,” Carmen testified.
“Eww. Spare us the details,” Phoebe attested, making a face. After Persephone allowed us entrance, she had immediately vanished. No goodbye, no good luck; nothing. It was more than a little unsettling, and the anxiety-related nausea churning in my stomach reminded me that I had just held my own against the Queen of the Underworld. I didn’t know that I had that in me! I shook out my hands as we continued along a winding path that, according to the map, would lead us through the groves. I hadn’t realized I had balled them up throughout the exchange with Persephone until a stinging on my palm alerted me that my fingernails had broken skin.
“Between the ‘death bridge’ and our little chat with the Queen of the Damned, I’ve decided I should carry a gun at all times; whether it’s to defend myself or to put myself out of my own misery,” Carmen rambled on nervously. “It’s a win-win situation, really.”
“I don’t think a gun would do much against Persephone,” Phoebe reminded her.
“That’s not going to stop me from trying. At least I’d go down fighting,” Carmen declared. I slowed as I recognized the trees that were on my left.
“Pomegranate trees,” I said under my breath.
“What did you say?” Phoebe asked as she followed my gaze.
“I just…those are the same kind of trees that were at the Sons’ Cimmerian Ball,” I alleged.
“Remember? They were around the dance floor.”
“Oh yeah, I do remember that now,” she grinned dreamily at a memory only she could see. As we moved forward, I began to notice just how peaceful and serene the Groves really were. The fragrant aromas of the flowering trees made a convincing case that we were simply strolling through a lush garden; enjoying a nice Saturday afternoon. Unfortunately, the otherworldly metallic shimmer of every tree reminded me just how far we were from nice Saturday afternoons and lush gardens.
“How much further do we have to go before we make it to Charon’s Marsh?” I asked Phoebe.
She consulted the map, looked around briefly, and folded it up; tucking it away in her pocket. Carmen and I stared at her as we waited on her answer.
“I have no idea,” she shrugged.
“What do you mean you have no idea?” Carmen argued, and held out her hand with impatience. “Give me the map.” As we all hovered over the not-to-scale mini map, we could only speculate as to how far into the Groves we had travelled. We knew we were headed in the correct direction, but it could be another ten minutes or an hour for all we knew.
“Let’s pick up the pace,” I instructed. After we jogged what felt like another two miles, the rust-colored dirt of the path began to harden and shift to a charcoal-like black dirt as we finally came to the edge of the Groves.
“Charon’s Marsh should be straight in front of us,” Phoebe surmised. We wearily stepped off the Groves’ convenient path and noticed that the Underworld had begun to transform into a darker, more menacing landscape as the Groves shrunk behind us.
“I think this is it,” Phoebe said as she inspected the map once more. We came to a stop at a place where the dirt under our feet met a line of tall grass. A dense fog hovered above the marsh, masking its true size; the lack of color creating a lackluster feeling in my soul. Although there were patches of grass as well as shrubs and tall weeds that surrounded the marsh, they were all variations of bronze, silver, and black. Even the water of the marsh appeared to be dark as midnight as it lay completely still; hiding immeasurable secrets of its own. The rush of what I guessed to be a waterfall was the only sound besides our own labored breathing from running. The most disconcerting aspect, however, was the smell.