My heart palpitates. My breaths quicken. And before I know it I’m running then sliding on my knees next to Hades. I glimpse over my shoulder at the other God’s and Goddesses and shriek, “Stop! Stop it! He didn’t do anything wrong!” Then I try to cup his face with my hands, but they slip right through him. Frustrated and terrified for him, I throw the weight of my body into him, but once again I slip right through him. There is pain on his face and I swear I can see a miniscule tear dribble down his cheek.
Then it hits me and I bolt upright in my bed, gasping. Oh God. Hades projected the dream. He’s able to put images in my head. Yesterday… Yesterday he was lying. He wants them; the other God’s to think he doesn’t love me. He wants them to think he’s cut off communication. He’s trying to protect me from something. I know it. I can feel it. But what is it that he’s protecting me from? My mom? Could it be Zeus?
Confusion drenches me and I fall back against my pillow. Instead of trying to come up answers to all the questions sounding off in my mind, I come up with a solution to everything. The only way I can get back to him is by finding a pomegranate and eating it. But thanks to Zeus every tree on the planet is now ash. I’m sure Hades supply has been cleaned out.
I hop out of bed and race down the stairs, mapping out a plan in my head. I pace in the kitchen. Without pomegranates there would be no seeds so growing my own tree isn’t an option. Think Persephone, think. I sit down at the table and massage my temples. Zeus may be one of the worst father’s on the planet, but he is smart. He’d never destroy every tree in the world. He’s always been obsessed with control and you can’t control something that doesn’t exist.
Racking my brain, my mind goes back to a time during my childhood. I’ve always been curious and at time mischievous and I recall one time where I’d wandered into one of Zeus’s private rooms in the Hall of the Gods. I’d only been in there for a second before my mom scurried in after me, scolding me. “Persephone,” she’d said gripping my hand and pulling me out of the room. “This is Zeus’s private room. You’re not allowed in here.” Right before we exited the room. I caught a glimpse of it a tree growing in through the window, plump balls of fruit with reddish skin dangling off the branches.
I jump up from my seat. I don’t why I didn’t realize this before. I knew when I saw the fruit initially there was something vaguely familiar about it. One tree left in the world. One way back into the arms of my beloved. One item to use as a bargaining chip for his freedom. I have to get to that tree. And that means I have to go back to place that I haven’t been to in five thousand years. My one and only true home. Mount Olympus.
Epilogue
Pomegranate
I pack my things in hurry, tossing random items into a duffle bag. Then double checking to make sure I have everything; identification, clothing, my passport, and extra cash.
Sprinting to the front door, I mentally tell Hades not to worry. I’m coming. I know and I will save you. I promise. I know he can’t actually hear me, but somehow it makes me feel better saying the words. Even if they’re in my head.
At the front door, I reach for the knob, but someone is on the other side of the door, twisting it and the metal jingles before I yank the door open. Adonis stands at my front door, lowering his hand a suspicious loo in his eyes. “Good morning, Adonis,” I say stepping outside and closing the door behind.
He holds his chin with his thumb and forefinger, looking at me puzzled. “Um, where are you going?”
I walk to my left and he follows. Then I walk to my right, trying to get around him, but he still follows me. “Adonis, look,” I sigh frustrated. “Can you please get out of my way?” He eyes me oddly and I try to dash past him again, but he stops me. “I have to be somewhere! Stop this! It’s important!”
Adonis doesn’t move.
I shove past him and he clutches my shoulders and pushes me back. “You’re going to him, aren’t you?”
“Him?” What is going on here? What is up with him? “What are you talking about?”
“You’re trying to save him, aren’t you? I don’t think you’ll make it in time.”
I’ve had it. “What in the hell do you mean, him?” I shout and ball up my fists. “And no, I’m not going to make it anywhere in time if you don’t move.”
Adonis closes his eyes for a second and opens his mouth to reply, but I take that as an open opportunity to sprint past him. I don’t make it very far. He grips on to my waist and tackles me, pinning me down on the grass. I thrash violently and almost blast him in the jaw. I only miss it by a centimeter. “I’m sorry, Persephone. But you’re not going anywhere.” He eases up off me and sits back on his knees. “I’ve been given strict instructions to watch you and make sure you don’t go anywhere.”
I don’t even know what to say. I’m baffled. I’ve been living next door to someone I thought I knew. “What is going on?” I shout. “You’d better start talking!”
Adonis shakes his head and stands. “There are things you don’t know.” Adonis extends his hand to me. I slap it away, enraged. The rage is mixed with worry. I have to swallow it. I can’t let my temper get the best of me. With every second that passes I feel like Hades is slipping farther and farther away. I close my eyes and hear him. Come to me. And I’m trying, believe me, I’m trying.
I stand slowly and glare at Adonis and I hope he can see how much I loathe him right now.
His eyes pierce mine and he cocks his head to the side, wearing a cocky grin. “You can’t run, Persephone because even if you do I’ll find you.”
I stagger backwards, mouth gaping and gasp. “What are you?”
“It’s not about what I am,” he replies, “It’s about who I am.” He takes me by the arm and guides me back to the front door. My time is dwindling down. I can feel Hades getting farther and farther away, slipping through my grasp. His voice fades, almost and echo.
“Adonis,” I plead. “You need to let me go. I have to help him.”
Adonis pushes me through the front door without responding to me and forces me onto the couch. He sits down across from me on a plush, reclining chair and cocks his head to the side. “I need to tell you a secret,” he says. “I’m not who you think I am.”
Biography
Lauren Hammond is the bestselling author of the YA romance novella, He Loves Me He Loves You Not. She has a severe addiction to coffee and amazing books. She is a literary agent with ADA Management Group and she can be found in any book store perusing the YA section or at home, writing.
Asphodel (The Underworld Trilogy) Page 17