Daughter of the Earth and Sky

by Musa Publishing

  Chapter I

  I’d been here before. My bare feet glided over the leaf-strewn path, unharmed by the rocks and twigs crunching beneath me. Massive live oaks draped with Spanish moss created a canopy above me, transforming the forest path into a tunnel of speckled sunlight. The air was heavy with humidity. The moist heat pressed against my skin and stole the breath from my lungs. By the time I reached the path’s end, my Eeyore nightshirt clung to my skin.

  “Dungeoness.” I came to a halt when I recognized the sprawling ruins of the ancient ivy-covered brick and stone manor.

  Athens Academy took my class on a week-long trip to Georgia’s coastal islands freshman year. Cumberland Island was a major highlight because of the sea turtles, wild horses, and these ruins.

  “Good job, Persephone,” I muttered, kicking at a branch. “You’ve figured out where you are, but how did you get here?” I knelt to pick up a smooth, white stone, tucking damp tendrils of hair behind my ears so I could see better. The rock looked and felt real. I ran my hand over the smooth stone, turning it over and tracing the shape. The weight of it in my hand reassured me.

  I turned, hoping the path held some answers, but it was no longer there. I stood on the grass-covered shoreline looking out to sea. In the distance, a girl stood thigh-high in the ocean, clad in a gown of strategically placed sea foam. Although her back was to me, I could tell she was perfect. The curly ringlets of hair cascading down her flawless cream skin matched the intense orange of the sky as the sun sank in the sea.

  I glanced down at my sun-kissed skin, self-conscious. She was really pretty. A movement caught my attention and I glanced up as she looked over her shoulder, aquamarine eyes meeting mine. Then she spoke. I was shocked to hear Boreas’ cold voice roll off her tongue. “Zeus lives.”

  I stumbled backward. Boreas, the god of winter. My mind flashed back to that horrible day in the clearing last winter. Boreas’ cold laughter. His fingers digging in my hair as he pulled me across the frozen ground. Melissa’s eyes widening as she choked on her last breath. The rush of power that gave me the strength to put Death himself, and Boreas, under my control.

  A soul for a soul. I’d bargained with Thanatos, the god of death, and killed Boreas without a second thought, saving my best friend.

  I wish for you to die, I’d told him.

  He’d had no choice but to comply.

  Now images shoved their way through my thoughts: Cumberland Island, two sunsets, lightning cracking in the sky. My mind screamed against the onslaught.

  Dreaming, you’re dreaming. The old me, the one who didn’t know that all the myths were real, would have found that realization reassuring. But I knew better now. Gods could dream walk to send messages or attack each other in their sleep. And like it or not, I was one of the few living gods left. My “marriage” to Hades and my high-profile mother had made me a target before. There were measures to protect myself from dream walking gods, I’d just forgotten to use them.

  How could I have been so stupid? I gritted my teeth against the pain and forced myself to think the word that would make it all stop.

  Dosvidaniya.

  I bolted up in bed with a gasp. A weight in my hand made me look down. I unclenched my fist, revealing the white stone from Dungeoness.

  My blood rushed in my ears as I looked around the room. It worked. I took a deep breath and tried to calm down.

  I frowned. I’d chosen Dosvidaniya because the word had played a pivotal role in some half-remembered cartoon I’d seen years ago. Hypnos, the god of sleep, told me to choose a word or phrase someone else could never guess and to think it every night before bed, and never ever let anyone hear what it was. Like a network password, or a pin, only this password would protect my mind.

  And you forgot. Really, Persephone? I groaned and flopped back on the bed. But it had been months since Zeus had sent Boreas to abduct me, and nothing had happened since. I’d grown complacent.

  That’s no excuse. I glanced at my phone and saw it was almost three in the morning. I had two choices. I could either wake up my mom and tell her about my dream, or risk another attack and do some dream walking of my own to Hades and tell him.

  My mom, or my hot husband? Well that was a no-brainer.

  I closed my eyes. Hades. I directed my thoughts to him. I could sense the energy of all the other sleeping deities, both alive and dead. It was a weird sensation, like catching a glimpse of something out of the corner of my eye only to have it move before I turned my head.

  It was easier to find gods I knew. I sensed Hypnos’ energy right away, flickering like a strobe light beyond the horizon. He was always the easiest to find because I’d learned to dream walk from him in the Underworld.

  I found Hades next, a bundle of dark energy guarded like a fortress. I sent out the mental equivalent of a knock and found myself in the Underworld, standing in his library.

  “This better be good,” he grumbled. He looked sleepy sitting in his usual oversized leather chair. His arms were crossed and his foot tapped impatiently. The library faded into muted reds and browns, fuzzy and unfocused. Hades on the other hand, was in hyper focus, the sharp angles of his face almost too real in this strange setting.

  My heart leapt at the sight of him. His dark curly hair fell into his bright blue eyes. His lips curved in a smile, despite his grouchy tone. My eyes wandered to his firm arms, and I flushed remembering being wrapped in his embrace.

  Last winter he’d rescued me from my first encounter with Boreas by taking me to the Underworld. The only catch was that he had to marry me to bring me to the Underworld without being…well, dead. Supposedly it didn’t mean anything. Marriage between the gods wasn’t about love; it was mostly political and job-like. But I didn’t think it would be like that for us. Or maybe it would, once he realized what I’d been hiding from him.

  Hades’ eyes flickered over my face, and he rose from his chair. “What happened? Are you okay?”

  I jerked in surprise at the worry in his voice. He’s probably wondering why you invaded his dream if all you’re going to do is stare at him, weirdo. I shook my head to clear it. “Can Boreas still dream walk?”

  His face darkened at Boreas’ name. “No, he died stripped of his divinity.”

  “You’re sure?” I couldn’t keep the tremor out of my voice. I didn’t exactly want to have Boreas in my head again, but if it hadn’t been him, then that meant it had been someone else. And the only other person I could think of was Zeus.

  “I’m sure. He’s in Tartarus anyway. Even if he somehow retained the ability, the souls in Tartarus are blocked from dream walking.” Hades gave me a thoughtful look and ran his fingers through his thick, dark hair. “What’s this about?”

  I told him about the whole nightmare in a jumbled rush.

  Hades blinked. “Slow down.” He put his hands on my shoulders. “Start again.”

  “She was him, I mean, he was her, her voice, it was his. And then he, or she, or whatever, it showed me all of these pictures, and I—”

  Hades listened, worry giving way to confusion. “Yeah, okay. That’s not working.” He leaned down and kissed me.

  The connection between us flared to life, and all the images from my dream flowed to him. I still wasn’t used to that. Gods married by exchanging power, and that created weird links in their minds. Hades and I had only exchanged a token amount to make the marriage binding, so our connection was limited to when we touched, but if we exchanged more, we could—

  Why was I thinking about any of that while Hades was kissing me!

  I really wanted to relax into his embrace and just enjoy the kiss, but instead I turned my thoughts to an even worse topic. Thanatos.

  I’d
charmed him to get Melissa’s soul back. Charm could work like mind control if you used it right. It shouldn’t have worked on another god unless there was a huge power differential in my favor. There wasn’t. I’d not even come into my powers yet, but I didn’t question it when it worked. I’d just been happy to get my friend back.

  Have you told…anyone that you charmed me? Thanatos had asked.

  He’d looked so embarrassed that I’d felt sorry for him. He’d been my friend. One of the few people who I could talk to in the Underworld.

  “I hate asking you this, but could you promise not to tell anyone anything about me? It’s just that I’d never live it down if anyone ever found out I’d been charmed.”

  “I promise,” I’d assured him like the idiot I was. “I can’t promise Hades won’t figure it out, but he won’t have any help from me.”

  I remembered the relief on his face, how grateful he’d been. How stupidly happy I’d been to do something nice for him after everything he’d done for me. It wasn’t until later, when Hades explained I’d only been able to charm Boreas because he’d sworn fealty to Zeus, that I realized how completely and utterly I’d screwed up. Thanatos, Hades’ best friend and right-hand man was working with Zeus. And I couldn’t tell a soul.

  Gods can’t lie. My promise was binding. I’d tried everything in the months that had followed. Writing it down, pantomime, anything. Nothing worked, and trying made me feel like I was being ripped apart.

  Hades’ lips were warm on mine. I tried to slip thoughts of Thanatos through the kiss, but my mind rebelled at the idea, and I only managed to convey a troubled feeling. Given the nature of my dream, Hades didn’t seem surprised I was worried.

  He drew back. For a second, he didn’t move. Just looked down at me, his hands resting on my shoulders. Then he jerked his head and cleared his throat, moving back to his chair. “That’s…something.”

  “So who did that? What did it mean?” I perched on the arm of his chair. I usually had a better sense of personal space, but Hades was the only thing in this room that looked real and solid. Staying close to him made me feel grounded.

  I frowned, comparing the nauseating swirls of unfocused furniture coloring this room with my dream. “Whoever sent that message put a lot of energy into making it feel real.”

  “It had Poseidon’s signature all over it. He considers himself to be quite the artiste.” Hades waved his hands in the air. A dark, mocking smile played on his lips.

  “Poseidon’s still alive?” Could he be working with Zeus?

  Hades nodded. “He won’t be working with Zeus, either. They didn’t—I mean, don’t—get along. From what I could gather from your dream, something is happening in two days at sunset on Cumberland Island. I don’t know why the girl was in the dream, but she did mention Zeus.”

  “This is the first lead we’ve gotten,” I murmured, linking my hand with his. We hadn’t learned anything new since Boreas’ earth-shattering revelation that Zeus was alive and looking for me.

  “I can see what Poseidon wants, why he sent you that image.” Hades’ eyes met mine. “You don’t need to come.”

  “Yes, I do.” A thought occurred to me. “Can you? Leave the Underworld I mean? For that long?”

  Hades nodded. “I’ll leave Cassandra and the others in charge. I’m due some vacation time. How much time do you need to talk to your mother about leaving?”

  I took an inward hiss of breath. I hadn’t thought of that yet. “Thirty minutes?”

  “See you soon.”

  Chapter II

  I woke with a start, peeled free of my jersey sheets, and scrambled down from my loft bed. I didn’t bother turning on the light, just picked my way across my room by the light of the moon peeking through my lacy curtains and raced down the stairs to the kitchen. My mother sat at the round wooden table, a forgotten cup of tea next to her as she flipped idly through a magazine. Her blonde hair was pulled up in a messy bun. A few wisps of hair had escaped and framed her heart-shaped face. People said I looked just like her, but shorter. I didn’t see it.

  She turned another page in her magazine. Seeing her down here like this was so normal, so mundane, that the sight brought me up short and took me back to the time before I knew gods and goddesses existed outside mythology. Before I knew my mother was actually Demeter and my father was Zeus. Before I’d been stalked by Boreas and forced into hiding in the Underworld. Before Hades…

  My mother glanced up. “You’re up late. Is something wrong?”

  I recounted my dream, much calmer now that I knew it wasn’t from Zeus. Or maybe just because I was talking to my mom in our bright yellow kitchen. Yellow, I decided, is a good color. It made me think of the sun and warmth and spring. I felt safe in this kitchen. There was something soothing in watching my mom move around the kitchen while she made me a cup of hot chocolate. It was in the high 80s outside, but in Georgia you drink hot drinks for the flavor, not for warmth.

  “It was real,” I finished, dropping the white rock on the table. “When I woke up, this was in my hand.”

  “Honey, I don’t need to tell you how important it is to guard your mind. Try not to forget again.”

  My temper flared up so fast it even took me by surprise. But that had been happening a lot lately. “No, you don’t need to remind me.” I snatched the rock off the table and scooted my chair back. It squeaked in protest along the stone-tiled floor. “Especially since you never told me to guard it in the first place.”

  I kept trying to get over seventeen years of deception. But somehow knowing it was in my best interest wasn’t enough to forgive her for keeping my divinity…my life…everything about me a secret. She’d let me think I was human, but I wasn’t, and some part of me had always felt different from all the people around me, so I’d just grown up thinking I was a freak. That something was wrong with me. As much as I wanted to make things right between me and my mom again, I didn’t think that was something I could get over.

  Mom rolled her eyes and handed me the mug of hot chocolate. “You haven’t been very honest with me either. Zeus lives?”

  I squirmed in my seat. “I didn’t know how you would feel about the news. You never talk about him.” I watched her closely as she poured herself a fresh cup of tea. She seemed to be taking it well. I felt as though a huge weight had been lifted off my shoulders. Keeping that secret for three months had been one of the hardest things I’d ever done.

  “Don’t worry about me.” She set the tea down on the table. “I do wish you had told me earlier. You don’t need to get involved with whatever this is, Persephone. When Zeus sets his mind to something—”

  “Why aren’t you surprised?” It had taken Hades weeks to stop referring to Zeus in the past tense, and Mom hadn’t even paused in pouring her tea. The truth dawned on me with a horrible certainty. “You knew?” She didn’t meet my eyes. “Answer me! Did you know Zeus was alive? Yes or no?”

  Just because a god can’t lie doesn’t mean they’re always telling the truth. They’d had millennia of practice misleading people.

  She lifted her chin. “Don’t take that tone with me.”

  “Are you really hiding things from me again?”

  Her green eyes cut to me with a withering mom-look. “I’m not the only one who’s hidden things.”

  I laughed in disbelief. “I bet you’ve been waiting for months to be able to say that. Not telling you about Zeus made me feel sick. I couldn’t stand misleading you, but you…” I waved my hand. “You can’t really believe that’s even in the same category as letting me believe my father was dead?”

  “He is not your fa—” The lie caught in her throat. She closed her eyes and exhaled, putting her fingers to her temples. “What I mean to say is that you can’t view Zeus as a father.”

  I still couldn’t wrap my head around the way gods viewed family. Most gods are created, not born, so there are no genetic ties. They don’t think of each other as brothers or sisters or daughters or sons. Which in a
way was good, because otherwise my marriage to Hades would be really weird. But I hadn’t been raised like most gods. I’d grown up thinking I was human, and my mom was still my mom. And my dad…I’d spent my whole life wondering about him, and now I was just supposed to disregard him because gods don’t think of each other that way? I couldn’t do it. “Maybe he wants to be more than nothing.” The handle of the mug bit into my hand. I hadn’t meant to sound hopeful, but Mom didn’t miss the plaintive note in my voice.

  She stiffened and leaned across the table, eyes wide. “Persephone, if we’re lucky, Zeus doesn’t even know you exist.”

  So she didn’t tell him about me either. I guess that wasn’t surprising. “We’re way past him knowing I exist! He sent Boreas after me. He wants me for something. Maybe…maybe he just wants to get to know me?”

  My mother’s face paled. “Zeus doesn’t care about anyone but himself. The only thing he wants from anyone is to use them up and to throw them away.”

  I nodded, my throat aching from holding back tears. I knew she was right. If Zeus had amicable intentions, he wouldn’t have sent Boreas. He would have come himself. I’d heard enough about Zeus to know how horrible he was, but I’d never heard anything from Mom. And, judging from the expression on her face, I wasn’t about to learn anything new.

  My father had been a closed topic my whole life, but it never stopped me from wondering. I’d invented stories, imagining that he was a secret agent, or a rock star, or something. In most of my fantasies he was dead, because what other reason could there possibly be to leave your wife and child? As I grew older, I realized calling my mom his wife may have been the wrong assumption. I’d wondered if she even knew who my father was. But nothing had prepared me for the truth.

  I’d secretly hoped my father was someone famous, but never imagined that fame would be for sleeping with everything with a pulse and making humans miserable.

  “When?” I asked finally. “When did Zeus escape the Underworld?”

  “He never died.”

  “But Hades saw him in the Underworld when Olympus fell and the rest of the gods died.” I still wasn’t clear on how that had worked, but gods lived off human worship. Without it, they died. By the time Olympus fell, the gods’ power had been fading away for want of worship for centuries. The smarter gods, like my mom, had paid attention to all the signs and stocked up on worshipers by cursing them with immortality. Others, like Hades, were just so powerful already that it didn’t matter. Undead worship is still worship, so he’d never lost a single follower. The rest weren’t so lucky.