by Molly Ringle
“No,” Zoe said. “How does that even…what…”
“You tell us,” Adrian said. “You were the last one to own him. Did you set him free, or did he run away, or…?”
Zoe rubbed at her temple. “Uh. I’ve not got that far. Bloody hell, there’s still a lot I don’t know.”
“I can tell you that,” Rhea said. “Eleusis adopted him after Hekate’s death. Kerberos became the official pet of the Eleusinian Mysteries. They agreed to take care of him and keep his immortality a secret. He might have lived centuries with them; I’ve no idea.”
“But he was in the spirit world,” Sophie said. “With wolves.”
“Then someone must have taken him through to this realm at some point,” Rhea said. “One of the priestesses, at their sacred portal. They set him free, perhaps. Or else he escaped, in order to look for the Underworld again.”
“Then why hadn’t we seen him until now?” Adrian asked.
“Wolves roam around,” Sophie pointed out. “Maybe his pack wasn’t in the area very often. Besides, we’re usually down here, and he wouldn’t have had any way to get into the cave without a big scary fall.”
Everyone absorbed that a moment. Zoe was a bit stuck on the casual phrase “Hekate’s death,” for her part. But then, she’d known it happened eventually. She scratched the ecstatic Kerberos under his chin. “You poor doggie. You’ve been lonely, yeah? Don’t worry, boy, we’re back now.”
Then she remembered the chrysomelia tree. Her smile died, and she looked at Sophie and Adrian and Niko. “But the tree.”
“Ah yes,” Niko said. “It’s time now, I suppose.” She helped Zoe up, dusted off her tight, curve-packed jeans and gave the group a chipper smile. “Come with me, loves. Sophie, you in particular should come, I think.”
***
Sophie almost felt a glimmer of hope. “Where are we going?” she asked.
“I’ll show you.” Niko glanced around. “Nearest horse we can use?”
“We’re both mortal,” Sophie pointed out. “Should we be riding one of those?”
“We’re not going far. And didn’t I hear that you hitched a ride down by dangling from a human soul?”
“Well. Yeah, but just for a few seconds.”
“Which is all we need. Come.” She tugged Sophie down the path. Everyone else followed too.
They picked up Niko’s usual spirit horse, tied to a tree partway down the path, and led it along. Sophie wondered where they were going, and why they were taking a spirit horse deeper into the cave rather than outside, but soon she forgot her questions and gasped in horror.
“They burned so much! Oh my God, the orchard, oh no…” She twisted every which way as they walked, taking in the wrecked trees and shrubs, the piles of burned leaves. The stench of smoke stung her nostrils, recalling too strongly the trauma of her house burning down. And for a second the trapdoor began to creak open under her again, ready to plunge her into that place of eternal terror…
Niko squeezed her hand, and Adrian took hold of her other.
“The pots you moved,” Adrian said. “Remember? Things will be all right.”
Sophie pulled in a breath. The trapdoor solidified into ground again. She pictured all the various hideaways where she’d stashed potted Underworld plants. She’d been keeping them watered and healthy, and they were well out of this area. They’d be all right. That was something.
“Keep coming,” Niko said.
In the sweeping beam of her flashlight a moment later, the titoki tree and the spring bulbs from Carnation met her eye in a healthy burst of colors. They were set apart from the other trees, and they, at least, had escaped damage. That also loosened some of the pain in her chest.
But Niko still didn’t pause. She led them onward, past the trees, and into the tangle of columns near Landon’s cell.
Oh yeah, Landon. Sophie glanced down the path and glimpsed him at the far end, gripping the bars and looking toward them in a pose of fearful desperation. Adrian’s mother’s soul stood by, guarding him. Sophie looked away again. Dealing with him was another task that would have to wait till later.
“Mate, exactly where the hell are you taking us?” Adrian asked.
“Right here.” Niko stopped and tilted her head back, looking up into the dark, high, stalactite-studded ceiling.
Sophie and the rest looked up too, saw nothing, and turned their stares back to Niko.
“Honestly,” Niko said, “did the rest of you never wonder what was up there?”
“Bats?” Adrian said.
“And slimy wet rocks,” Sophie contributed.
“Also hiding places.” Niko climbed onto the saddled spirit horse and held out her hand to Sophie.
Sophie hesitated. “Why me?”
Niko’s eyes beamed benevolence, barely any mischief in them for now. “Because this is for you, Persephone.”
“Be careful,” Adrian said as Sophie climbed on behind her.
“I will.” She latched her arms around Niko’s newly soft and curvy waist.
Niko glanced over her shoulder and tipped her a wink. “Hold on tight.” She clicked her tongue and told the horse, “Slow. Up.”
They rose into the air like an untethered helium balloon. Niko swung the reins to dodge them expertly around stalactites as they ascended, and bounced them off one large one with a push of her hiking boot. Sophie ducked below Niko’s shoulders to avoid whacking her head against rocks, and shone her flashlight around in curiosity. Dripping rock in all sizes, yes; the occasional startled bat swooping and taking off too.
But also things she had never known about: more gems in all colors, puffy faintly-glowing mushrooms and lacy lichens, and small nooks and ledges tucked among the jumble of glistening rock. Niko steered the horse to one of the roomiest ledges, which was still less than a foot square.
Sophie gasped in wonder when the flashlight beam fell upon the little plant sitting on it. “Is that…?”
Niko brought the horse to a hovering stop beside the ledge, so they were within reach. Nearly forgetting how high up they were, Sophie stretched out her hand and touched the glossy leaves.
“When Rhea gave me the immortality fruit,” Niko said, “I saved the seeds. I planted this one; the other seeds are still safely hidden. I’m rather surprised the rest of our companions didn’t show such foresight, really.”
Sophie could have wept with gratitude. She drank in the sight of the little chrysomelia. It was only about a foot tall and was growing in a battered and dented old saucepan. “And you hid it here, because it has to grow in the Underworld to work.”
“With Underworld soil and everything.” Niko sounded proud. “Even an automated drip system.” She pointed to the thin soda-straw stalactites directly above, from which water droplets occasionally plunked into the pot.
“What is it?” Adrian’s voice shouted up from below, echoing. “What’s up there?”
“We’ll show you!” Sophie shouted back, then looked at Niko. “Can we bring it down now?” She arched her eyebrow. “Or were you saving it for some nefarious purpose?”
Smiling as shamelessly as ever, Niko picked up the pot and tucked it into the crook of Sophie’s arm. “I was saving it to give to whomever I wanted to make immortal, of course. And it turns out that’s you and me and Liam and Frey, for starters.”
“And Zoe’s parents, and Rosie.”
“Quite. And any other allies we find worthy along the way.”
Cradling the tree like an infant, she looked down at it. “But it doesn’t have fruit yet. Or even flowers.”
“No. This tree’s only a bit over a year old, and it took the first tree two years to make fruit. We’ll just have to make sure we keep it safe for another year, yes?” Niko twitched the reins, and told the horse, “Down.”
***
Eleusis was grown up and had become a great temple leader, working alongside the aging Akis and Galateia, who loved him like family. In Greece the world was changing, and not for the better. Dest
ruction had become commonplace. Refugees from one invasion fled to new cities, only to be caught in another invasion the following year. Chaos sprawled, and Thanatos triumphed, because it was easy in such an environment to convince people that the gods were evil and cruel. But Eleusis, Akis, Galateia, and the other temple folk who had personally known the immortals kept the truth alive, and their temples provided havens of calm in the devastation.
“I promise you,” Eleusis told Hekate, every time she visited him and despaired about the latest events, “the people haven’t forgotten. We’re making sure of it. We have sacred sites to take refuge in, and we’re keeping those secret except to the initiated; but the stories of all of you, those we’re spreading far and wide.” He gave her the merry grin he had inherited straight from his father. “You know we Greeks will always tell stories, no matter how many armies invade us.”
Hekate never found a new immortality tree. She thought of the sealed jar, assembled by her parents, that contained an old chrysomelia fruit, but she rejected the thought. The seeds were surely too old to sprout. Anyway, Eleusis, in his implacable and peaceful way, told his mother that he would refuse to eat the fruit even if it were available.
The other immortals were all dead now, except for Rhea and Hekate. Over the years the remaining immortals showed up in the Underworld as souls—killed by enemies, or driven to quiet suicide when they wanted to forget and be reborn at last. As to method, for those who couldn’t face leaping into a fire, it apparently worked to give yourself up to a carnivorous animal. Poseidon and Amphitrite had done it together, summoning one of those sea monsters and letting it devour them quickly.
Hermes, along with most of the others, had left to be reborn. It had been almost a year ago now, and he was somewhere far away across the great ocean to the west. So far she had not found the courage to follow, but she wanted to. One way or another.
Hekate sat long in meditation these days, the way her father had once done. Through reaching out to the Fates that way, she came one day to an understanding, or at least constructed a story that soothed her. She would tell it to Rhea and Eleusis when she returned to the Underworld, she decided.
She ate the red violets that made a person comfortably numb all over. Then she rode her spirit horse to the surface, let him go back to the Underworld without her, and walked to the seashore. She waded into the waves, and reached out in search of the sea monsters who had once helped her return to land. One sensed her, and swam closer.
It rose up in the sea in front of her. She sent it the message: Yes, I’m ready. Please help.
Through her numbness, she only knew the tentacle had seized her by realizing she couldn’t breathe anymore. Then she was seeing the darkness as the creature’s mouth engulfed her, and she struggled only a short time in suffocation before blacking out. And then, soon enough, she was free and full of light, and flying to the Underworld.
“It’s all right,” she assured the weeping Rhea and Eleusis that night, when they found out. “It’s just winter time. Time for the gods to rest under the earth, like roots. The Fates, or the Goddess, or whoever they are, didn’t have a grand plan for immortals when they created us, any more than we have grand plans for the flowers and crops whose seeds we sow. We just want them to grow and live and enrich us. Some of us have different strengths or powers, and it’s the same as plants having different colors and flavors. Maybe the Goddess loves variety just as we do and has a use for all different kinds. And the worshippers, or the powers above, or all of it together, will bring immortals back for a springtime someday. I’m certain of it. They made us come alive before, and they brought my father and mother to the Underworld as living humans, so surely it will happen again. You needn’t worry.”
“I agree with your vision, Mother.” Eleusis wiped his eyes. “I’ll try not to be sad long. I tell everyone not to be, because we know what the Underworld is. But I’m finding it’s human nature to be sad anyway, isn’t it?”
Hekate smiled at him, full of love for her wise son.
“I’m not ready for death.” Rhea sniffled. “I’ve lived too long to let go of life. But…yes, I just want to sleep like the roots too.”
“There is another option,” Hekate said. “I want to be reborn, but if you just wish for a long sleep, there are some berries here you can eat. Potent and dangerous, but I think they would work. I can show you which, when you’re ready.”
“But you have to say goodbye to me first,” Eleusis scolded Rhea. “No surprising me like she did.”
Rhea nodded in grave agreement. Hekate let her gaze drift placidly across the fields, reveling in tranquility and the promise of rejuvenation. It was easy to be patient now.
Epilogue
They kept the little chrysomelia tree safe for another year. They kept each other safe, too.
After the battle for the Underworld, their first order of business was to turn over the surviving invaders to the police. Under glamours so they looked like police officers themselves, they also transferred the remains of the dead—Krystal, Tracy, Tenebra, Yuliya, and two of their hired men—out to the living realm, to be found and accounted for. They provided no explanation as to what the invaders were doing in the cave. Let the survivors try to explain themselves, they decided.
Thanatos would have a hard time regrouping. Sophie’s next order of business was to go to Landon and tell him he was going to turn state’s evidence. She informed him he would describe his involvement in the cult to the police who were trying to solve her parents’ murder. He was to tell them exactly what the cult had done, but he would frame their beliefs as delusional, rather than trying to tell the authorities about the spirit realm. For now. He would lead them to arrests of members involved in other Thanatos murders. And with any luck he would be pardoned and would only get probation.
Landon agreed at once. In fact, he seemed profoundly relieved, if anything, to hear that his former team had been destroyed and that he would be forced to give up the cult affiliation. Sophie and Liam’s parents’ murder was finally declared a closed case, with all participating criminals now either dead or, in Landon’s case, pardoned. Sophie and Liam used the considerable insurance money to start construction of a new house on the site of the old farmhouse in Carnation.
In case the global crackdown on other Thanatos operatives wasn’t enough, Zoe investigated the magical properties of the remaining plants in the Underworld, and came up with a new safeguard. She held a piece of Underworld gold and a clump of leaves from their underground titoki tree, and used the titoki’s signal-boost properties to seek out all the other bits of Underworld gold in the living realm. Traveling the world with Niko and Kerberos (whom she had adopted), she tracked each piece down. There weren’t many Underworld gold artifacts left—five in museums, two in private collections, and the rest buried deep and forgotten. They stole some (leaving valuable jewels in their place), dug up the ones they could, and let the last two lie since they were deep in the earth beneath buildings by now and were almost impossible to get to.
Then, just to be sure, Zoe visited as many sacred sites as she could, and brought special charms of wrapped-up titoki leaves and petals from the new crocus Sophie had planted. The crocus added permanence to her protective wards, and the titoki channeled the Fates’ judgment so that, in theory, anyone bad enough to get put in Tartaros would also be barred from entering the spirit realm as a living person.
It wasn’t foolproof, she fretted. There were always loopholes; someone would always find a new way to cause trouble. Nevertheless, as Niko assured her, things were now much, much better.
When they ventured down to Tartaros to check on their deceased attackers, they found thick vines securing them to their gloomy cells, ensuring a long stay. In Tenebra’s case, in fact, her cell was darker than usual, she was caught in a deeper state of fear than most punished souls, and the twisted vine was wrapped around her not just once but three times. A threefold rebound of magic, as Zoe had expected.
Sophie and Liam
returned to school in September. In her summers and other vacations, Sophie used Underworld fortunes to anonymously fund a program that sent students out to remove invasive plants from the landscape, start up community gardens for vegetables, and plant wildflowers among and between croplands, and in any available space really, to help bees and other pollinators—and just to make the world prettier. She spent days here and there going out to help with the planting and digging herself.
Landon went to work for the organization full time. Under the watchful eye of his parole officer, he spent his days pouring compost, measuring out seeds, and talking to West Coast communities about establishing gardens. On weekend nights, he went out with Frey to nightclubs. Sophie thought there was still a wistful look in his eye when he looked at the changed person he had once been fond of, but she figured he’d likely meet someone soon in one of those clubs and finally be happy.
Tab disappeared to travel the world rather than return to school, but she kept Sophie updated with texts. One day she sent a photo from Ireland, of herself and a lovely, petite red-headed woman. She copied Zoe on the text too.
I’m head over ass in love. She was in Ciaran’s coven. And yeah, she’s Ariadne reborn. But I’d adore the crap out of her even if she wasn’t.
The following spring equinox, Sophie’s twentieth birthday, the first two fruits were ripe. Sophie, Liam, Rosie, Niko, Freya, and Zoe’s parents divided up the slices and ate them, and became immortal.
They saved all the seeds, too.
***
The cool morning breeze in Athens curled the white curtains inward, carrying the scents of sea, traffic, cigarettes, lemon, and oregano. On the bed in their rented room, Niko rolled over and lifted Zoe above her so that Zoe’s arms and legs dangled down. “Ha,” Niko crowed. “I’ve missed being this strong.”
Niko had let her blonde hair grow long over the past year, and seemed to enjoy wearing it loose and flicking it around like a supermodel. She also enjoyed lounging on beds in nearly-transparent stretchy white tank tops and boy-short underwear, the way she was doing now. Probably because she knew she looked amazing like that.