Persephone's Orchard (The Chrysomelia Stories)

by Ringle, Molly

  He only smiled in answer. And there seemed no way he could be over fifty now, because that was the coy, radiant smile of a young man invited to come court her again.

  “MOTHER, I’VE FOUND a new tutor. He knows lots of languages and plant lore from other countries, and I’ve arranged to go learn from him. Perhaps half a day every four or five days, as you can spare me.” Persephone recited her story as she cut greens from the garden with a knife.

  It was two days after Hades’ visit, and Demeter had returned that morning after delivering the twins. She leaned on the door frame of the house, squeezing water out of her freshly washed hair. “Slow down, girl. What is his name? Where does he live?”

  Persephone parted her lips to give the answer she had made up (though Hades had urged her not to lie)—the invented name, the tale of him being an elderly traveler from the north. But her tongue went limp at the idea of such untruth. She laid the greens in her basket and looked straight at her mother. “His name is Hades, and he lives in the Underworld.”

  Dismay clouded Demeter’s eyes. She wrung her hair, twisting it tighter. “I might have guessed. The way you two were talking at Aphrodite’s house—I suppose he invited you then.”

  “I invited myself.” Persephone moved to the next row of greens. “And I’ve already been there.”

  Demeter growled, delivering such a hard shake to her gathered-up hair that drops rained upon the herb garden. “And it didn’t appall you? You want to go back?”

  “It’s beautiful. Or at least, strange in a magnificent way. How can you judge it when you’ve never been there?”

  “For most people, the fact that all the dead souls in the world dwell there is reason enough to find it appalling, and to stay away.”

  Persephone sat back with her heels beneath her. “This is the argument I would rather have avoided, and could have avoided by lying to you. But there should always be truth between us, you’ve said.”

  “Yes, and therefore I’m being honest too, and not pretending I like the idea of you spending your time under the earth, among spirits, with only one slightly insane immortal man for living company, when I do not like it.”

  Persephone climbed to her feet. Pain flared in her weak hip, and she winced and settled her weight on the other leg. “Why do you call him insane?”

  “Precisely for reasons such as wishing to live among the dead when there’s an entire living world that needs attention and is better suited for us all.” Demeter stepped into the garden, closing her warm, damp hands upon Persephone’s bare arms. “Darling, isn’t it bad enough that mortality exists, and tortures even us few eccentric immortals by taking away everyone else? It’s a frightening, disturbing thing for a living girl to want to spend her days with the dead when—” Voice weakening, Demeter checked her words, and cast her glance aside.

  Persephone understood the unfinished sentence: when someday all too soon you’ll have to die and go there as a soul yourself. She hugged her mother. Persephone’s mortality tormented Demeter, as Persephone well knew. Their time together would be brief, in the span of Demeter’s living existence. Now having seen the Underworld, Persephone felt no fear about returning there as a soul. But a parent could never feel anything other than grief about losing a child. Even Hades, remembering the lost baby son he had never known, had been affected that way.

  She rested her cheek on Demeter’s shoulder, breathing the smell of her clean wool tunic and sweet skin. “For goodness’ sake,” Persephone said, “I don’t plan to live there. Only visit sometimes, and learn.” She stepped back, smiling at her mother. “It’s this world I want to learn about, and living people I want to help. The souls can tell us things the living can’t, that’s all. And the plants down there can do things no other plants can.”

  Demeter still wore a frown. “Then you and Hades…forgive me for asking, as you are a grown woman, but remember he’s immortal and it’s dangerous.”

  Persephone laughed, turning away to retrieve the basket of greens. “He’s well over fifty, isn’t he? I’d feel ridiculous. Plus I gather he only tolerates my interest in the Underworld for short periods of time, and wouldn’t want to be burdened with me or anyone else beyond that. I suppose it is a bit insane, as you say.”

  “That’s some relief. Then, as long as I get to see you at the end of each day…”

  “Of course. I still live here, with you, and I wouldn’t want it any other way.” Persephone kissed her mother’s cheek and moved past into the house, carrying the basket. At the moment, she even meant it. A comfortable home with a wise, wonderful immortal for a parent, and the freedom to visit the Underworld once in a while for novelty—the arrangement seemed perfect to her. Only at the darkest edges of her consciousness did she sense she might someday want more from it.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  JUST WALKING UP TO YOUR dorm, said the text. Let me in?

  Sophie’s heart leaped in excitement, until she realized it was from Jacob, not Adrian. With the flood of romantic, ancient, mythology-colored memories distracting her today, Sophie had forgotten Jacob was driving up to visit this afternoon.

  Groaning, she closed her laptop and stood up. She wasn’t getting anything done on her Communications essay anyway.

  “Something wrong?” asked Melissa, glancing up from her own computer.

  “Jacob’s here. I totally spaced and forgot he was coming.”

  “Should be a good kind of surprise.”

  Sophie only grunted, and walked out into the hall, texting back as she moved: Yep. On my way.

  Jacob. Okay. Focus on Jacob now.

  But her brain, it seemed, had been utterly reprogrammed. She kissed and greeted Jacob, smiled for him, and pretended to listen while he talked about university life. But her attention returned straight to Hades, whose image and actions kept unpacking themselves in her head.

  Hades resembled Adrian more each time she dwelled on it. Not in every detail, but in the ways that mattered: a look in the eyes, a way of moving his head, a smile.

  And this was not what she was supposed to be thinking about while spending time with her boyfriend.

  Who was Jacob back then, or in those other lives?, Sophie pondered, staring at him as they sat across from each other at a pizza parlor. What would he learn if he were taken to the Underworld to eat the pomegranate?

  Maybe she could swing it if she asked Adrian very nicely, but she doubted he’d be keen on the idea. Honestly, she didn’t care for it herself. She didn’t want to try to explain the Underworld to Jacob, nor share it with him.

  In fact, as their food arrived, she realized she didn’t even particularly want to share a pizza with him.

  Surely it was just PMS or, likelier, the confusion of all this information flooding her head. When the novelty of Adrian and the Persephone life died down, she would appreciate Jacob again, she told herself. She partook of the pizza, and brought out smiles and remarks in response to Jacob’s chatter.

  After dinner they returned to her dorm room, which Melissa had tactfully vacated for a few hours. Jacob grinned and crowded her against her closet door. “Now this I have missed.” He reached under her jacket and shirt, and she winced—his hands were cold from the evening air.

  She returned his kisses for a few seconds, then turned her face aside. “I don’t feel like it anymore.”

  She hadn’t meant to add the last word. She intended only to avoid any physical shenanigans tonight. But it was a Freudian slip: all too true.

  Jacob’s reaction might have been comical if she hadn’t felt so guilty. His mouth went agape, his eyes widened, and his hat, tilted back on his head to accommodate the kiss, looked like it was knocked back by the force of his shock.

  “What do you mean?” he asked.

  It was her chance to salvage the remark, laugh it off, apologize, and say she only meant she had cramps and wanted to sleep.

  Or, if she was going to be brave, it was her chance to get this difficult task done. Reluctantly, she stepped up to the
challenge.

  “I mean I’m breaking up with you. I’m sorry.”

  Sophie sat in her desk chair and Jacob on the floor, as if his legs had given out on the spot.

  Thus commenced the least enjoyable conversation she’d ever had, and it went on longer than she would have liked. Jacob kept demanding she tell him why—and asked more than once if Adrian Watts had anything to do with this. She said no, it wasn’t for any other particular guy; she and Jacob just had different interests and she’d been thinking about ending it for a while now.

  He kept pleading for her to reconsider, give him another chance. She stated, with sincerest apologies, that it would only be cruel to string him along, as she didn’t love him anymore and didn’t want to be his girlfriend. Why would he want to date someone who felt that way?

  Melissa returned, took a look at their haggard faces, and froze in place in the doorway. “I could go out a while longer.”

  Jacob stood with a sigh. “No. I was leaving.”

  “I’ll walk out with you,” said Sophie.

  They didn’t speak as they trudged to his car in the student-and-visitor lot. Lights buzzed on posts. The air was cold, a fog beginning to form. The marching band practiced in the football stadium nearby, horns and drums reverberating between campus buildings. An autumn smell of chimney smoke made her so nostalgic for home that, already weakened by the breakup, she almost wept.

  At his car door, he looked at her, his eyes miserable. “Can I call you in a few days? Talk it over?”

  She folded her arms. “I guess. Just to tell me how you’re doing. But I won’t change my mind.”

  “You might. I won’t stop hoping.” He touched his palm to her face. “Who’s going to look out for you now? I’m worried, babe. This Adrian guy…”

  Irritated, she moved back. “Those people were insane, Jacob. They’re the dangerous ones. I can’t believe you didn’t see it.”

  “How you could know that, or say that? They’re only looking out for you.”

  “They aren’t. If you want to keep me safe, don’t talk to them anymore. I mean it.”

  He stared at her. “What are you talking about? Tonight I don’t even know you.”

  “I’m still me. I’m just…” She sighed, looking past him at the lights reflected in his car window. “Please drive carefully.”

  Jacob opened the car door, looked at her a long moment as if trying to come up with an answer, then got in without a word. She stepped back as the car started. He pulled out from the parking spot slowly, and drove away.

  Feeling shaky, Sophie walked back to the dorm. I didn’t do this for Adrian, she insisted to herself, as she’d been insisting out loud to Jacob. But of course she did do it in part because of him, and did imagine how Adrian might react when she told him she was free. Panic and pleasure twisted in her belly at the notion.

  Okay, she was romantically interested in him, but she was going to be smart about this and not tell him immediately, this very night. That would smack of rebound.

  Instead, as she reached the glass door that let her into the dorm, she tapped the contact number for Tabitha’s cell.

  “Hey, lady,” Tabitha answered. Thank God. She was somewhere quiet and answering her phone, not off partying on Capitol Hill with her cool new friends.

  “Taaaab,” Sophie wailed. She pulled open the door, entered the building, and leaned against the wall beside the stairwell. “I broke up with Jacob.”

  Tab moved straight into her voice of sincere approval. “Good. You’re better off.”

  “Really? I feel awful. Did I do the right thing?”

  “Dude, if you strung it out much longer I was going to have to do my friend duty and tell you he’s not that spectacular. You can do way better.”

  “Thanks.”

  “You can tell me the reasons if you like. But I bet I can guess.”

  Sophie drew in her breath nervously. “You can?” She wondered if it was obvious even to someone in another city that the breakup might be connected to another guy, who actually was rather spectacular.

  “You and Jacob were never a great fit. Especially lately. It wasn’t working and it was hurting me to see.”

  Sophie let her shoulders relax. “That’s about it, yeah. Although…never mind. Can we do a video call tomorrow when I’m less tired?”

  “Absolutely. Hey, get your odd little roommate to go out for ice cream with you.”

  “Ice cream?”

  “Or a pedicure. I’m fairly sure either one of those is standard therapy for a breakup.”

  Sophie smiled, remembering Melissa’s tact this evening during Jacob’s visit. “I guess I do owe her a treat for putting up with me.”

  “I love you, Soph. You’re going to be fine.”

  “I love you too.”

  MELISSA ACCEPTED SOPHIE’S invitation to walk to the nearest all-night convenience store to buy ice cream. Sophie told her the bare bones of the relationship collapse on the way. With her usual calm, Melissa took it in.

  “It’s tough to break up,” she said, biting into the ice cream bar Sophie bought her. “I’ve never regretted dumping the womanizing jerk I dated in high school, but still, it sucked at the time.”

  Sophie was surprised to learn plain, aloof Melissa possessed dating drama in her past. But then, it was hardly the biggest surprise in her life lately; and didn’t everyone have romantic turmoil once in a while? Sophie murmured in agreement, sucking chocolate ice cream off the wooden paddle-shaped spoon that came with her tiny carton.

  Late that night, she washed her face in the communal bathroom, ignoring the two girls chatting at the end of the counter. She didn’t want Jacob back. She knew this breakup was for the best. But she felt like a failure—that was the closest she could pinpoint her abysmal mood. Not very long ago, she had thought Jacob was the love of her life, the best thing to have ever happened to her, the most perfect match and the closest male friend she could have hoped for. And she had been so very wrong. It made her feel idiotic, bereft, and just plain cruel. If there were some way to hug Jacob all night long and soothe him without getting his hopes up, she would have done so.

  Tears filled her eyes and soaked into the washcloth she pressed to her face. The two other girls breezed out of the bathroom, their voices traveling down the hall. Sophie brought the washcloth into a stall, and wept into it as silently as she could.

  Afterward, with rose-scented moisturizer cooling the skin around her stinging eyes, she slipped into bed. Listening to Melissa’s steady breathing, she lay her palms flat on the mattress and steeled herself for another Persephone dream. Were these memories going to make her night even harder?

  Possibly. For the moment, the thought of Adrian threw her into a panic. Yeah, I’m free now, she imagined saying to him, pointing her finger in his face. But that doesn’t mean I’m leaping into your freakish world and joining you in immortality, so don’t get any ideas.

  Nonetheless, her dreams were about to put her right back into that freakish world. Oh, well. No helping it. She needed to sleep, and the sooner she sorted through these past lives and got over the shock of them, the better. Maybe it would even take her mind off Jacob.

  All right, Persephone, she thought, in the tone of a prayer. Help me through this. Show me what to do.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  SOPHIE SANK HER CONCENTRATION INTO Persephone’s life, deliberately reducing the pace, as if pulling the reins of the ghost horses to slow their dash across the planet. Taking in a few weeks or months tonight would be enough; no need for digesting entire years. And considering this was the era when Persephone began studying the Underworld in earnest, there would be plenty of interesting memories to examine.

  Persephone began her research on her next visit to the Underworld, bringing a pot of paint and a brush. She walked through the forest with Hades, asking him what each tree’s magical properties were, and marking their trunks accordingly.

  “You’ve said ‘I don’t know’ for most of these,” sh
e teased, painting an open half-circle on another trunk. The empty cup shape was her mark to indicate “don’t know”—knowledge to be filled in later, as it were.

  “How would I know?” Hades said. “There aren’t many people who want to come to the Underworld and try eating the plants to see what happens. Nor would I ask them to. And I won’t allow you to do it, either, so don’t try.”

  Kneeling by the trunk, she looked over her shoulder at him. “Have you tasted them all?”

  “Nearly all, and when I say ‘I don’t know’ it means I haven’t noticed any effect. But I’m immortal, and the effect on mortals could be quite different.”

  She rose, rubbing a wet spot of paint between her thumb and finger. “We’ll think of safe ways to test them. Besides, plants have uses beyond eating.”

  “Like the harnesses, yes.”

  “Exactly. Think what else we might discover.”

  Their discoveries over that first summer were sundry but not earth-shaking. Persephone coaxed Hades into allowing her to taste very small amounts of some plants, once in a while, to learn their effects.

  The red violets, when eaten, made you go harmlessly numb all over for about a quarter of the day.

  “Wish I’d had these when Mother pulled my sore tooth last year,” Persephone said, touching her jaw in regret.

  One tree’s berries, when boiled, dyed cloth and other materials a permanent dark red, and left a deep stain on skin too. Persephone dyed one of her cloaks, and it took a month before all the red faded from her hands.

  Around there, Sophie awakened, and faced her first morning as a single woman in five months.

  Today I just recover, and study, she vowed. And she did—with a pleasantly long video chat with Tabitha later, in which she related the break-up discussion in detail.

  It felt good just to see Tab’s face on the video screen. She had rosy skin, playful blue eyes, a sheet of blonde hair cascading almost to her waist, and a plump figure that she clothed in dramatically contrasting solid colors. Today it was a fuchsia knit top with a plunging neck, and a black velvet wrap with a yellow sunflower pin on its shoulder.