Enchanted Fire

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Enchanted Fire Page 48

by Roberta Gellis


  “This is the Mother,” Persephone said softly, “my Goddess. But She has many faces, many natures. You are welcome, Eurydice, to look for your own Goddess within Her.”

  Eurydice looked up. The face was not a maiden’s nor was any feature very similar to those in the temples where she had worshipped. It did not matter. “She is the same,” she whispered. “She is here, my Lady is here. That is why I never lacked for Power.”

  She held up her hands, and felt the warmth of welcome and behind it the familiar shadow of amusement. Despite her grief over the loss of Orpheus, she could not help smiling back—and found she was comforted. She reached up to unhook her earrings to leave at the shrine. Persephone stopped her.

  “This is a true Goddess,” she said. “She needs no sacrifice from us nor would She be moved by any except that in your heart. The priestesses of this temple and the temple itself are provided for by my lord and king. We bring nothing here but our love and our devotion and sometimes a trifle—” she gestured at the bowl “—to express our love the better and show that we appreciate what She has given us.”

  Eurydice did not answer but she felt it was entirely right and made her worship perfect as it had never been before. She bowed to the Goddess who, so wonderful was that carven face, she could have sworn smiled at her. Then she and Persephone turned away and went out into the sun again.

  “You are free of all our secrets now,” Persephone said, “you can live here in the outerworld, if you wish.”

  “No, madam,” Eurydice replied. “I am glad to know it is here, glad to know I can see the sun and growing things and hear the birds sing. I will enjoy visiting above ground if I may, but most of my work is in the underworld and my friends are there, and the beauty and excitement of the caves are there, too. I will live as I have.”

  What she did not say was that it was in the underworld that Orpheus would seek her, and if he should come, she did not wish to be delayed even by the little time it would take to fetch her from above. She told herself she must be patient, that Persephone had only been trying to calm her when she named so short a time as three to six moons, but she was so eager to see whether there were any signs of his changing his mind that on the fifth day she Found him.

  He was back in their house in the village, just setting down his cithara and getting to his feet. Eurydice was immediately disappointed. She had hoped she would Find him lingering in the meadow near the cavemouth, unable to leave the place where he had last seen her. That he went so swiftly home, she felt, was a bad sign. And when he went and opened the door, the fairest of the village maidens was standing there proffering a covered dish and smiling up at him. Eurydice very nearly cut off the vision and swore never to seek him again. Her very pain, which froze her Finding on its object, saved her because she saw Orpheus’ face harden. She could not hear what he said, but it was clear enough. He shook his head and shut the door.

  Eurydice was thrilled. He had refused to let the girl in; he had refused even to take the food she offered. He went back to the stool, lifted the cithara, and began to play. Tears came to Eurydice’s eyes. Never had she seen such misery on a man’s face. She cut off the vision. She would have to go to him… No, that was ridiculous. If she did she would soon be truly dead, and he would have guilt as well as grief to endure.

  The pain of seeing Orpheus suffering was so great that she did not seek him again for a week. The next week there was a catastrophe in the deep pits. Some misunderstanding of Hades’ directions—or pure greed—led a group of miners to try to follow a seam of gold in a direction he had not authorized. For a few weeks the work went well, and then a last pick stroke opened the way into a great underground lake. Miners fled in all directions. Some were washed away with the water. When Hades had sealed the water into the tunnels it had already flooded, many of the places the men had sought safety were also sealed. Then Eurydice came and Found, and Found, and Found until she was hollow-eyed with fatigue, and Hades went through the solid stone again and again, until his face was as grey as the granite. He went as many times as Eurydice Found, to bring forth his men, both living and dead, and Persephone fed them both with Power, until even her seemingly inexhaustible fountain ran nearly dry, and she was weak and sick with draining.

  Some were saved, more often only drowned bodies were brought forth. When the last man was accounted for, Eurydice slept for two days. Waking, she realized she had better proof than ever that those who lived in Plutos were no more dead than those who lived aboveground. All else that mimicked life might be only a form of punishment, but to die, be burned, and not return—only the living could do that. If only she could have proven it to Orpheus! Her eagerness to tell him, although she knew he would have no vision of her when she saw him so clearly in her mind, drove her to Find him again.

  He was not at home but in a forest glade she did not know and he was playing the cithara, and around him was the strangest group of beasts Eurydice had ever seen. Some were hunters, others their prey, but all sat or stood quietly, staring at Orpheus. And he! His face wore an expression of exultation, of wild, utter freedom. Sadly Eurydice closed the shutters of her mind. He would not come now, she thought. He had found something that made living in the upperworld more satisfying than being with her. She would not seek for him again.

  She did her best to settle her mind to it, trying, if she could not find happiness, at least to establish that contentment she had reached before she knew she was still alive and could be reunited with Orpheus. Over the next few weeks she mostly found peace, but there was a sadness underlying it, the sorrow of knowing that she was not loved as she loved. Because of that knowledge, she sometimes found the lightheartedness of her companions unbearable. Fortunately, she had the perfect excuse to avoid them at such times. She could always wander the uncultivated hillsides and even the blue-light caves seeking herbs for healing. With spells, slingshot, and javelins to protect herself, Hades did not insist that she take the guards he set on Persephone.

  The isolation was not always good for her, however. One late spring afternoon she found herself crouched behind a fallen tree, weeping into the red fungi she had been scraping from its rotting bark. Nearly six moons had passed since Persephone had promised Orpheus would come. She sat beside the tree for a little while longer wondering whether true death brought oblivion and whether that would not be better. If she went back to Orpheus, she would have a few weeks or a few months with him before someone could catch her unawares and kill her.

  Then she shook her head. She had no right to consider herself alone. Orpheus had already destroyed two men in her name—how many more would he kill when she was dead? Beyond that, if she left Plutos, how many would die for lack of her Gift? Every man caught in the flood in the lower pits would have died if not for her. Hades could fetch them out from behind walls of rock, but not if he did not know where to go. Her Healing was of use too, although there were many Healers in Plutos. Indeed, in herbs and simples, many were more skilled than she. She would never have known the properties of this ugly-looking stuff if she had not seen an old woman using it. She would go back, she thought, and join the merrymaking.

  Strangely, there was no guard at the cavemouth. And through the roaring and whining of the wind, there was another sound. Or was it sound? She hurried to the stairs, clinging to the guide rope as she raced down and down—and heard the one voice in the world that could make stone weep.

  “When will I sit beside thee and hear thee silverly speaking?

  Laughing love’s low laughter?

  Through and through me, ‘neath the flesh

  Impalpable fire runs tingling

  Nothing see mine eyes save thee

  My voice is hushed, my tongue is broken

  Save it sing of thee…Eurydice…Eurydice…”

  * * *

  “I am here,” she cried, racked with longing, struggling to push her way through the hall, which was more packed with people than she had ever seen before. “Orpheus! I am here!”


  The music stopped abruptly. Those who had been standing rigid with attention, sighed, looked around at her, and gave way, some who knew her smiling and murmuring “Eurydice.”

  “Where?” Orpheus shouted, standing up, the cithara hanging from his hand.

  “Here,” she cried, laughing with tears streaming down her face as the crowd, now conscious of more than the spellbinding sounds, opened a path for her and she flung herself into Orpheus’ arms.

  “They would not tell me where you were,” he said, “So I decided to sing until every person in the entire realm came to this hall.”

  “But Orpheus, my love, they did not know where I was,” Eurydice said, still laughing and crying at the same time. “I am the far Finder. They have no other like me.”

  “Where were you, then?”

  She could not tell him, not yet, not until permission was given, although she thought it would be given in no long time. He had come, after all, of his own free will to be with her, and she, having what she desired so deeply, was not about to give it up.

  “I was—ah—in a blue-light cave, gathering strange herbs.”

  Eurydice felt Persephone’s approval and was about to raise her mouth for a kiss when Orpheus bellowed, “In a blue-light cave! Did you not tell me that those were very dangerous, that there were strange beasts and outlaws?” He turned his head to stare at Hades. “How is it that you let her go alone?”

  Eurydice looked at Persephone. Persephone cast her eyes up to where heaven would be if they had not been beneath many stadia of rock. Hades looked startled, then rubbed his hand over his mouth. Eurydice, much relieved, decided he was hiding laughter.

  “She insisted she desired to go alone,” Hades said. “I did warn her of the dangers, but being a woman, she would not listen. Have you found a way, Orpheus, to change a woman’s opinion once she has made up her mind? If you have, I desire that you tell me, for I have problems of my own.” He looked sidelong at Persephone.

  “I beg your pardon, my lord,” Orpheus said then, shocked at his own temerity in accusing a god. “She is so precious to me…”

  “That, too, I understand,” Hades said, his hand going out to clasp that of Persephone. And then he smiled. “Take him to your chamber, Eurydice, and find him some food and clothing too.”

  The words peeled the scales of joy from Eurydice’s eyes. She saw that Orpheus was sunken-eyed and gaunt and that he had nothing with him but the cithara and her soaring spirits received a sharp check. It seemed that he had not come of his own free will after all.

  “Were you driven out, my love?” she asked, when they came to her room and she had closed the door behind them.

  “Out of the village, you mean?” His voice was absent. He stood staring at her, then reached out to touch her cheek, her hair. “No. They just disgusted me, acting as if one woman could be exchanged for another as easily as tunic for tunic. I left of my own will, and gladly. And then I went into the mountains and I released my own Power.” He drew her close and held her gently. “I was a fool to tell you to give it up. No, not a fool, a liar. I would not let myself believe that it was part of me, that it was always there in my music, even when I did not use it.”

  “Then why are you without supplies—you are hungry. I can see it—without extra clothing or even a blanket.”

  He looked puzzled. “I had some food. For the rest, why should I bother? The dead do not need clothing or blankets, but—”

  She laughed at him, pulled his head down close to her lips and whispered in his ear, “We are not dead. Not all the folk here know that, so do not speak of it, please. As I tried to tell you before, no one in Plutos is dead. And, being alive, we must eat and drink, dress to keep warm, piss and—”

  “I noticed that,” he said. “I must say I was annoyed. It seemed too much that I should be dead and still have all the inconveniences of being alive.”

  “And all the conveniences, too,” she said, and kissed him full on the mouth.

  Copyright © 1996 by Roberta Gellis

  Originally published by Pinnacle [9780786003303]

  Electronically published in 2016 by Belgrave House

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  No portion of this book may be reprinted in whole or in part, by printing, faxing, E-mail, copying electronically or by any other means without permission of the publisher. For more information, contact Belgrave House, 190 Belgrave Avenue, San Francisco, CA 94117-4228

  http://www.RegencyReads.com

  Electronic sales: [email protected]

  This is a work of fiction. All names in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to any person living or dead is coincidental.

 

 

 


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