by Joan Holub
Turning toward Minthe, she said in as polite a tone as she could manage, “Hi, there. I’m Persephone. Remember me from yesterday? This is my friend Antheia from MOA.” She waved a hand in the direction of the dog-shaped box. “We’re doing a school project right now and had to get something from that box. But we’re really sorry. We didn’t mean to be unkind. Honestly. We were only—”
“Being rude, that’s what you were doing!” Minthe interrupted. She took a step closer to the riverbank, causing the ooky brown water to swirl around her ankles. “Do you stuck-up goddessgirls think I like this stinky-dink smell? No way! I’d give anything not to be stuck here!”
She glared at Persephone, her eyes boring into her. “You’re so lucky Hades likes you. I don’t get why he does, though. You’re nowhere near as beautiful as I am,” she said with a sneer. Then, with a graceful motion, she reached with her free hand to fluff her gorgeous, long, moss-green hair.
Though the nymph’s insults were hurtful, Persephone recognized the frustration and envy beneath her words, in much the same way she’d begun to glimpse the fear of unkind treatment that underlay Makhai’s bad behavior. Before Persephone could say something to try to calm Minthe, however, Antheia found her tongue.
“Hades is the lucky one!” she told the nymph. She narrowed her eyes. “Ever heard the saying that beauty is only skin deep? Well, from what I’ve seen of you so far, you’re a good example of that, Minthe. Because you don’t seem like a very nice person inside. Persephone is cooler and nicer than practically anyone else I know! Pretty, too. And why don’t you clean this place up if you don’t like it?” Still clasping the box, she flung one arm wide to indicate the river and its banks. “Maybe you’re just too lazy?”
Uh-oh, thought Persephone. While it was sweet of her friend to leap to her defense, she could tell from the look in Minthe’s eyes that Antheia had only succeeded in making her angrier. Did part of that anger spring from embarrassment? On some level, Minthe must realize that Antheia had a point about her not making the effort to improve her surroundings!
Just then another owl screeched. Oh, wait! It wasn’t another owl making that noise—it was Minthe! Persephone put her hands over her ears. Ye gods, what an awful sound!
Reaching out, Minthe grabbed hold of the dog-shaped box and tugged it from Antheia. She tried to open it, but when the lid wouldn’t budge for her, she tucked it under one arm. Then, in a fury, she lunged toward Antheia and grabbed her by the ankle.
“Hey! Let go of me!” screamed Antheia. She wiggled her leg and tried to jerk free, but Minthe held on, pulling. Before Persephone could get over her shock and spring into action, the water nymph swiftly dragged Antheia into the river.
“Help!” cried Antheia, her arms flailing. “I can’t swim! And even if I could, I wouldn’t want to in this river. Yuck!” Her wreath fell from her head to float on the surface of the muddy river. Already sunk to her shoulders now, she tilted her head back to take in gulps of air. She’d go under soon if Persephone didn’t act!
All at once Aphrodite’s joking words of advice during their conversation about Minthe bubbled up in Persephone’s brain: You can always cast a spell on her and turn her into… um… a plant or something.
At the time, Persephone had been quite sure she’d never, ever do any such thing. Now, however, inspired by desperation and Aphrodite’s words, she changed her mind. Gazing at Minthe, a spell tumbled from her lips:
“After you set Antheia free,
A naiad you’ll no longer be.
The Cocytus you’ll no longer tend;
Your water nymph days are at an end.
When I have finished with this chant,
You will transform into a plant!”
As soon as Persephone spoke the last word of her spell, Minthe let go of her captive. The nymph’s fingertips began to turn as green as her hair. The green color moved farther, coloring her hands and arms. By the time Persephone waded into the muddy river to rescue Antheia, Minthe’s limbs had gone leafy and limp. The green color was slowly overtaking all of her.
Persephone grabbed Antheia’s wrist with one hand, snagged up her wreath with the other, and towed the girl to shore. There she quickly cast another spell that sucked the muddy water from their skin, clothes, and the wreath, leaving them both clean and dry.
Antheia plopped the wreath atop her head and hugged Persephone in obvious relief. “Thanks so much for the rescue!” Still hugging, they turned together to stare at the muddy water. By this time, Minthe’s transformation was nearly complete. She’d become a low-growing, leafy green plant. Though she’d started her transformation in the muddy water, she’d then jumped onto land and begun to spread in all directions, including up to and around the girls’ feet.
They hopped about, trying to avoid stepping on her, but in the end they couldn’t help it. To their surprise, when they did tromp on her, Minthe’s leaves released a sweet smell that was quite pleasing.
“Ooh! Good job. That smell is a humongous improvement,” said Antheia.
Persephone nodded. “Yeah, it even masks the stinky sulfur smell.”
“So what’s the name of this plant you turned her into?” Antheia asked. “I’ve never seen it before.” She bent at the waist to better observe the plant and take a deeper whiff of its delightful fragrance. “Mmm. Nice.”
“It’s something new,” Persephone informed her. Cocking her head, she thought for a few seconds, then added, “I think I’ll name it mint, in Minthe’s honor.”
“That’s really sweet, considering she wasn’t very nice to us,” Antheia told her, giving her a quick one-arm hug. “See, I was right when I told that nymph you are cooler and nicer than just about anyone else I know.”
“Thanks.” Persephone hoped she’d done the right thing, transforming the angry nymph into this new plant. What would Hades say when she told him? He’d understand her need to rescue Antheia. Still, would he be mad at her? He ruled this world, after all, and she had effectively removed the nymph who watched over this river. Hades would have to get someone else to do it now, she supposed. As if he didn’t have enough problems to fix around here already!
And what if he also thought she’d acted out of jealousy over Minthe’s crush on him? She didn’t think jealousy had played a part in her actions, but could she be sure of that? Before Persephone could dwell more on this, Makhai zoomed up to the girls on his winged sandals.
“I went all the way back to the River Styx before I realized you guys weren’t behind me,” he told them breathlessly. Then he added, “And guess what—Theseus and Pirithous are gone!”
11
The Chair of Forgetfulness
PERSEPHONE AND ANTHEIA QUICKLY UNDID the laces that bound the wings at their sandals’ heels and rose into the air to join Makhai.
“You don’t think Theseus and Pirithous disobeyed Hades’ signs and ventured into the Underworld somehow, do you?” Antheia asked Makhai as they all flew back toward the River Styx.
“Dunno,” said Makhai. “I don’t see how they could. Hades’ fence is pretty tall, and they couldn’t make their winged sandals fly over it. Not without an immortal’s help. Still, I flew all around and called their names over and over. They didn’t answer, so…”
“We’ll find them,” Persephone assured him with more certainty than she felt. Secretly, she was mega-worried. If those two boys had gotten over Hades’ fence somehow, they could be in big trouble. Even if the Furies hadn’t already spotted them, there were certain areas of the Underworld that were extremely dangerous, especially for mortals. Poisonous snakes lurked in the frightening Forbidden Meadow, for godness’ sake! Or they could accidentally fall into a river of lava in Tartarus and be burned to crisps.
When she, Antheia, and Makhai arrived at the River Styx, at the place where they’d left the two mortal boys, they were surprised to see Hades. He was holding a shovel and staring down at a hole near the fence. His favorite black stallion stood beside him, pawing the ground with a hoof.
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br /> He smiled briefly when he saw Persephone approach and then called out to her group. “Something burrowed under my fence! Maybe shrews or moles. Really big ones. There’s a hole on the other side, too, so they must’ve run off into the Underworld. I really don’t need those critters in my realm.”
As they hovered above the fence, Persephone could see that there was indeed a second hole just a few feet away on the Underworld side of the fence.
“Not critters. Mortals!” Makhai exclaimed as he, Antheia, and Persephone all landed to stand beside Hades. “It was Theseus and Pirithous. I don’t know how I didn’t notice the holes when I was here before, but they must have tunneled under the fence with this shovel.”
“What? Those mortals dared to ignore the message I created for the scroll-gadgets? Not to mention the signs I posted? Shrews and moles can’t read, but what part of ‘No Mortals Allowed’ did Makhai and Pirithous not understand?” Hades’ lips flattened, and a vein pulsed in his throat.
Persephone had rarely seen him so angry before. She wasn’t looking forward to telling him what had happened with Minthe when he was in this sort of mood. Not at all. First things first, though: They needed to find those two mortals.
“We told Makhai and Pirithous to wait for us here while we followed the clues to the River Cocytus,” she explained quickly. “Guess they didn’t.” She wondered where the shovel had come from. Maybe some mortal had been using it when he died and still had it in his hand when he arrived to board Charon’s ferry. Charon would’ve made him leave it behind before letting him board to cross the River Styx.
“If they managed to sneak onto Charon’s ferry somehow, and cross the Styx after they got under the fence, they could be in the Underworld by now,” Antheia said.
Persephone’s stomach tightened. “Theseus has coins!” she reminded her teammates.
They looked at her blankly.
“Shades have to pay an obol per passenger. It’s the fee to board Charon’s ferry,” she explained. “The very first time I entered the Underworld by myself, I was able to fool Charon into thinking I was a shade. But he wouldn’t have let me onto the boat without an obol, so I had to borrow a coin from a real shade. Theseus could have paid both his fee and Pirithous’s with no problem.”
Antheia’s eyes widened. “Is Charon always so easily fooled by the non-dead?”
Hades shook his head. “No, it’s rare. I bet those two did something to distract him so he wouldn’t study them too closely.” Grimly, he added, “I’d better find them before it’s too late. The Underworld and mortals do not mix.”
“I’ll come with you,” said Persephone, and he nodded.
“Makhai and I can search too,” said Antheia. “If the boys are out in the open, we should be able to spot them from the air.”
“But what about the geo-dash?” Makhai protested. “We’re ahead in the competition now, but if we wait until we find those mortal boys—if we ever even do—we’ll lose our edge. Maybe I should head back to MOA with our proof while you guys look for them.”
Antheia sent him a sharp look. “Who cares about the competition? This is an emergency! We need all of us searching for Theseus and Pirithous.”
Makhai opened his mouth as if to argue, then closed it again. “Oh, all right,” he grumbled. As he and Antheia winged their way over the fence, Persephone and Hades took off behind them on his black stallion.
After trailing Makhai and Antheia beyond the fence and across the River Styx to the Underworld’s entrance, the two pairs of searchers separated. Makhai and Antheia flew leftward—toward the River Cocytus and Tartarus.
Persephone and Hades continued straight ahead. Soon they were flying above several groups of shades at work in the far-flung fields of asphodel. The shades were busy harvesting the roots of the star-shaped white flowers to roast and eat. Not spotting the two boys among the shades, Hades veered his stallion toward a small castle built of black stone and surrounded by a swampy moat. This was his home whenever he wasn’t staying over at the Academy.
As they came closer, Persephone peered through the dark mist that swirled around Hades’ home, hoping to catch sight of the fugitive mortals. A gloomdial (which worked sort of like a sundial to tell time) stood in the yard near the drawbridge. All along the front of the castle grew dozens of humongous, fragrant, and colorful flowers, which Persephone had planted not long ago. Just as she’d hoped, they really helped to brighten things up.
The petals of the twelve-inch-wide flowers were yellow in the middle, gradually darkening to orange and then red at the tips. Some of the others had blue petals or even pink and purple ones. These beautiful prickly flowers were the result of a hybrid seed she’d created to celebrate Hades’ last birthday. Uniquely suited to the conditions of the Underworld, both the seeds and the flowers could even survive a fire!
“Those two mortals are a lot of trouble,” Hades grumbled when they saw no one lurking near the castle. Flying beyond it, they continued rightward toward the desirable neighborhood of the Elysian Fields. As they flew along, their eyes raking the landscape below them, Persephone considered telling Hades about her and Antheia’s nearly tragic encounter with Minthe and the spell she had cast on the nymph. But she chickened out—er, decided to wait. Because, really, Hades had enough to deal with right now. Plus, she didn’t want to worsen his mood!
Just beyond the Elysian Fields, Persephone caught sight of two figures sitting on a bench by the River Lethe, another of the Underworld’s five rivers. Its waters were magical and had the power to erase memories. Newly arrived shades were all required to drink from the river in order to forget their earthly lives.
Persephone pointed at the figures. “Hey! Is that Pirithous and Theseus? Yes! There they are!” she called out excitedly, since Hades was looking in the opposite direction.
Hades whipped his head around. “Oh no!” he exclaimed when he saw the two mortal boys. He sounded super alarmed.
Persephone’s heart began to beat fast as a thought occurred to her. “Do you think they might have drunk from the river and lost their memories before sitting down to rest?” she asked him worriedly.
“Not sure. But it might not matter. Because that stone bench they’re sitting on? It’s called the Chair of Forgetfulness for a reason,” he told her as his black stallion landed them about thirty feet away from the boys.
They leaped from the horse’s back. The two mortal boys continued calmly staring out over the river and seemed not to notice them land.
“Pirithous! Theseus!” Persephone cried out. “Over here!” She waved to attract their attention as she and Hades ran toward the bench.
When both boys finally turned their heads, there was no sign of recognition in their eyes as Hades and Persephone approached. Neither of them made an effort to rise from the bench.
Persephone took in the blank looks on their faces. “Oh no! I’m guessing the Chair of Forgetfulness has similar powers to the River Lethe’s waters?” she said to Hades.
“Yeah. And it looks like they’ve been butt-benched long enough to empty their heads of memories,” said Hades. Turned out he was right.
“Who are you?” Theseus asked as they came up to the bench.
Persephone gulped. “You really don’t know me? I’m Persephone.” She gestured toward Hades. “And this is Hades.”
As she introduced the two of them, Pirithous was staring at her as if trying to remember who she was. Now he gave her a goofy smile. “I like you,” he said. “You’re pretty.”
“Um. Thanks?” said Persephone. Apparently losing his memory hadn’t affected his crush on her!
Hades was frowning at Pirithous. Could he be a teeny bit jealous? Persephone wondered. She hoped not. He didn’t need to be. That would be silly. But then, hadn’t she felt jealous when she’d realized Minthe liked Hades—a lot? Strange to think that they were both dealing with unwanted crushes at pretty much the same time. She wondered if Hades had worried about hurting Minthe’s feelings or causing embarrassment t
o them both, just as she had with Pirithous.
Theseus and Pirithous twisted their heads to look at each other and then back at Persephone and Hades. “Okay, so we know who you are now, but who are we?” Theseus asked.
“Oh no,” Persephone groaned. “And here I’d been worrying they’d lose their memories if they accidentally drank from the River Lethe,” she whispered to Hades. “This bench is just as bad! Will their memories return once they get up from it?”
“I don’t know,” Hades whispered back. “The real problem is going to be getting them off the bench.”
“Really? Surely they don’t like sitting there that much,” she replied. She turned back to the boys. While she and Hades had been having their whispered conversation, they’d returned to staring at the river.
“Hey, you guys, if we want to win the geo-dashing competition, we need to get back to Mount Olympus Academy. Let’s go!” she called.
The two boys didn’t budge. “What’s a competition?” Theseus asked, scratching his head in puzzlement.
“And what’s a Mount Olympus Academy?” Pirithous asked.
Argh. Just then Hades’ stallion, impatient to get moving, stamped the ground and gave a whinny. This gave Persephone an idea. She pointed to the stallion. “Want to go for a horsey ride?” she asked the bench-sitters.
“What’s a horsey? What’s a ride?” the boys asked. After she explained, they got excited. “Yeah! Horsey ride! Horsey ride!” they chorused.
However, as soon as Theseus and Pirithous tried to stand up from the bench, a serpent shot out from under it. Scaly and purple, it was twice as long as the bench and as big around as a tree trunk! With a hiss, it coiled itself like rope around them and the bench, holding them fast.
Hades caught her astonished eyes and shrugged. “See what I mean? That serpent guards the bench.”
“Godsamighty!” Persephone exclaimed in frustration. “Isn’t there anything we can do to free them?”
“Maybe,” said Hades. He narrowed his eyes at the serpent. “Be gone!” he commanded in a menacing voice. At this, the serpent stuck its head out from under Pirithous’s arm and eyed him back, its tongue flicking.