Destroyer of Light (35 page)

“Ah.”

“No one has seen Hephaestus the last few days. He’s been working on some commission he refuses to talk about, but he once tried to—”

“So I should only stay with you, then?” she asked, tilting her head.

Athena looked at her and thinned her lips sheepishly. Persephone gave her a half-smile and the Goddess of Wisdom laughed. “Oh, listen to me go on! I must sound like your mother. Forgive me, Persephone. Speak with whomever you’d like. You hardly need my protection anyway.”

“Athena! A word with you!” Ares barked at her, a cup of wine in his hand. His face immediately paled and fell when he glimpsed Persephone.

“Thank you,” she said and gave her cousin a quick kiss on the cheek.

“I ought to see what that great fool wants from me this time. Another silly wager, I’d guess,” Athena said, hugging her. “Be careful, all right?”

Persephone nodded and they parted ways. Scanning the room, she didn’t see Hermes anywhere. It wasn’t like him to be late, and he had said he would gladly help her navigate the sea of new faces.

After a moment of standing alone, a beautiful young man approached her. His figure was lithe, his skin oiled and perfumed, and his chest smooth, as though every errant hair had been plucked. His only garment was a short chlamys, one side thrown back over his shoulder and the other scarcely concealing his nether regions. An inadvertent downward glance confirmed Persephone’s suspicions and she blushed. Indeed
every
hair on his body had been plucked. “Can I interest the lady in a cup of nectar?”

She’d never felt the effects of nectar— ambrosia wine— having only eaten the food of immortality in its unadulterated form. It was best to keep her wits about her here. “No, thank you. What is your name, if I may ask?”

“Ganymede, milady. The cupbearer of Zeus,” he said with a slight nod. “If you’ll pardon my saying so, I’ve never seen you here before. Might I ask the resplendent lady’s name?”

“Persephone!” A voice boomed from a nearby divan. Zeus. She barely noticed Ganymede back away from her fearfully at the utterance of her name.

“Your grace,” she said softly and bowed low to the King of the Gods.

“Oh, we’ll have none of that formal nonsense here… we’re family!” He clapped a broad arm over her shoulder and smiled, showing his teeth. His beard was not streaked through with nearly as much white as the last time she had seen him, but he was still a far cry from the ancient yet youthful refinement of her husband. Zeus was wrapped in a gold-embroidered royal purple himation and his breath reeked of wine. The blonde nymph he’d left behind on the divan set down both their cups, folded her arms and pouted.

“Indeed we are, your grace.”

“Whom can I introduce you to?”

She was shocked by his informality. Wasn’t this the very same man who had called up rank and title and tried to cow her into submission to his rule not six months ago? “Well, I’ve already met quite a few. Hermes, ahh… Ares, Athena, and Artemis, of course…” She trailed off.

“Since you’re bound for the sunless world in less than three days, I should introduce you to Apollo. Come,” he said, shepherding her with a hand at her back, moving her across the room.

She heard hushed voices as she passed by groups of immortals. “Demeter’s daughter…” “No wonder she hid her away! If only I had gotten to her before…” “Poor thing’s beauty will shrivel away down there…” “Did she really? I heard he
forced
her to eat…”

Persephone passed an exotic, golden skinned woman of impossible beauty fanning herself. Her eyes were rimmed with kohl and a diadem balanced on her head with golden strands weaving an intricate pattern across her dark hair. Deep in conversation with her attendants, she laughed lightly and spoke with a hint of an accent. “They can’t be
that
interesting! It’s probably him on top with the lamps out and their chitons on every time!”

One of her girls leaned in. “No, my lady! Hermes swore up and down that he saw—” The woman shook her fan at the girl who promptly fell silent, and watched as Persephone walked past. The Queen of the Underworld glared at the woman. She stared straight back, serene, her gaze piercing all the way through Persephone, seeming to draw her in. Persephone flinched and averted her eyes, her cheeks burning.

“Who was that?”

“Aphrodite,” Zeus answered, his voice flat. “Someone can introduce you to
her
later.”

Persephone fumed. The Goddess of Love herself had been brazenly gossiping about her husband and their love life, of all things. Why in the name of the Fates did
any
of these fools find her intimacy with Aidon so interesting in the first place? She shook her head. The next three days couldn’t pass fast enough.

Zeus and Persephone finally stopped in front of a sunlit divan with a golden-haired man and several women draped across it. He was in the middle of a song, telling a story about love unrequited with a flawless tenor voice and a silver lyre. Two of the women, who Persephone recognized from the courtyard as Erato and Euterpe gazed longingly up at him. Apollo glanced at Persephone and winked, his melody uninterrupted. She raised an eyebrow. Was anyone in Zeus’s court
not
completely shameless? He ended his final verse with a slowly plucked chord. When he finished, Zeus, the women and Persephone clapped for him. Apollo stood and bowed low, his eyes traveling up her body as he rose.

“Persephone Karpophoros Chthonios, daughter of Demeter, may I present Apollon Lykeios Delphinios, son of Leto.”

She curtsied to him and he bowed exaggeratedly low once again, then gave her a wide smile filled with perfect teeth. “Apollo, please. And I believe we’ve met before.”

“We have?”

“We were only children, then. I think I gave you flowers— larkspur of all things— and recited an ode to you.” He chuckled. “Your mother was furious!”

“Forgive me. You’re now the god of…?”

“Prophecy, music, light, the healing arts…”

“That’s… quite the list of accomplishments.”

“This from a fair goddess who is both life and death at once.”

“I’ll leave you two be. I have a feeling you’ll get on famously!” Zeus said. He paced back to his divan, then bellowed a laugh and buried his face in his companion’s cleavage as she smiled and squealed.

Persephone’s mouth twisted contemptuously. Where was Hera, his queen? A hand on her shoulder interrupted her thoughts.

“There goes Father Zeus again…”

“You disapprove of him?”

“Naturally,” he said and shrugged. “But, if he begets on that silly nymph, that could be one more ally on our side. Not of noble blood, but we shouldn’t split hairs…”

“
Our
side?” Persephone swallowed and looked at him with alarm. Was he openly talking about rebellion? Another war among the gods? “What do you mean?”

He cracked another disarmingly beautiful and calculated smile. “Oh, don’t be so serious, Sephia!” His face fell slightly when her features twisted. “Should I not call you that?”

“Persephone, please.”

“Persephone then. And what a contradictory name for one so very radiant. Don’t be so grave, darling. I’m not suggesting anything like open war. Everyone here is subtler than that, as you’ll come to learn. Here— give us a smile.”

She imagined for a moment what Aidoneus would do with this silly boy if he knew that he was attempting to use his charms on her. Picturing Apollo begging for mercy finally turned up the corners of her mouth.

“There’s a good girl,” he continued. “What I mean is that Zeus’s… fruit plucked from less
legitimate
branches of the Olympian tree should stick together. You’re already friends with Athena and my sister, Artemis, and Hermes, if I’m not mistaken.”

“Yes.” She looked around for Hermes. “Speaking of, have you seen—”

“Good!” He interrupted. “We shall be friends too.”

“Friends?” So it was
friendship
he wanted… Maybe, Persephone thought, she was taking his behavior the wrong way. The Olympians seemed to be from a world set far apart from her and her mother, not to mention her husband. His forwardness could have been learned from Zeus and the others. What else had she heard about Apollo besides Athena’s brief warning? Artemis rarely spoke about her brother. She knew of his pursuit of Daphne. The nymphs she’d known had had a checkered acquaintance with him. Except for one… “We may yet have another friend in common.”

“Do we, now…” he beamed. “And whose acquaintance might we share, radiant one?”

“Do you know Kyrene?”

He looked at her blankly. “Who?”

“She was a friend of mine long ago. She mentioned you once. That you and she were… lovers.”

“You blush so charmingly, but sadly, I cannot recall her. Are you sure she and I…”

Persephone swallowed. “Ah… yes. She said that you found her in Libya—”

“Oh, now I remember! The lion tamer girl! Yes, she was…” he ran his hand back through his curls. “She was something. Kyrene had a son, I believe?”

“Aristaios.”

“That’s right… the beekeeper, cheese maker… busy little god, isn’t he?”

“I've never met him,” she admitted. “Sadly, I haven’t spoken with Kyrene since she conceived him.”

He laughed. “Then that’s another thing we have in common.”

Persephone’s face fell. “Never mind. I thought you might know where she was.”

“Heavens no,” he said dismissively. When she frowned he tilted his head toward her. “I didn't mean it that way, Persephone. She’s probably wrestling lions in Libya right now. And I find my present company far more… engaging.”

“I see.”

“But speaking of him, Aristaios prepares the most
wondrous
delicacies. Have you ever tasted cheese and honey together?”

“I cannot say I have,” she said. Most families in Eleusis owned a goat, perhaps two, and maybe had some extra milk during kidding, but rarely turned that into cheese. Apollo flicked his wrist toward a serving girl, then motioned Ganymede to their side. The girl held up a golden tray piled with dates stuffed with soft goat cheese and drizzled with honey. Apollo grabbed a full cup from Ganymede.

“You simply must try these. They go so well with the nectar,” he said, picking up a date. She reached for one, only to be blocked by Apollo. “Ah-ah… allow me.”

He drew closer to her, his lip curling into a half-smile. Apollo lightly caressed the back of her arm and lifted the date to her lips. Persephone took a full step back from his reach. “Apollo…”

“What’s the matter? You don’t want a taste?”

“I… yes. But this is… You know that I’m married, don’t you?”

“Of course I know.
Everyone
knows.” He rolled his eyes. “I’m only asking you to take a bite… to sample… to try something new.”

“That’s not all you’re asking of me.”

“You are a bright flower indeed.”

“So state your intentions.”

“You’d prefer I speak plainly?” He pulled his shoulders back. “You make such a beautiful addition to Olympus and I want to introduce you to all its potential. You are a queen, Persephone. You can do what you want, when you want,
with
whom
you want. No one expects you to abstain while you’re away from him. And it would be a sin to be so selfish with your charms. Is that plain enough?”

She wanted to run from the room, but she refused to let Apollo think he could intimidate her. If word got around, her troubles with the rest of the gods would be endless. “I find myself… steadily occupied when I’m in the world above. I have
many
responsibilities.”

“But you work so hard! You miss out on all the delights the world has to offer. There are so many different fruits to bite into, and so many who would be willing to show you how. I humbly beg the opportunity,” he said, taking a step closer, the date inching toward her lips.

She turned her head aside. “Opportunity abounds, my lord, but I’m not interested. I have my husband.”

“For six months of the year…”

“For always.”

“Persephone, open your eyes and look around you… Zeus is married. Aphrodite is married, and Hermes has Penelopeia, but they also know that there is greater pleasure to be had in… sampling. The monotony will wear on you over time, as it does to all. And time is all we have, radiant one. Why chain yourself to that…
corpse—”

“I beg your pardon?” The words exited her lips with a hiss.

He laughed lightly at her reaction and shook his head. “What else does one call a god who doesn’t eat, sleep, or lust after women?”

“A faithful husband!”

“Whom you are with only half the year…”

“I don’t consider my fidelity to be ‘chains’, Apollo. We teach the mortals—”

“The mortals? Oh, the peasants are faithful, but their kings are not. We are deathless, radiant one, and such constraints are mere curiosities to our kind. I know that as an… earth goddess… you rarely spend time among
us
. Especially since your mother tends to shun Olympus for lesser beings. You have a golden chance to experience pleasure…
real
pleasure…”