Series: Willow Winters
Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 74198 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74198 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
“With our whispers, seeds crack to listen.
“With our hands pressed, warmth touches the earth.
“With our hearts open, the harvest grows.
“It provides and our spell is met. It feeds life and our divinity is blessed.
“So mote it be.”
The mortal realm will be green and lush with new growth as it should be. It has never known such death before. Such coldness. The harvest will grow under the soil, ready to be at its full height soon enough.
With hope renewed, I glance into the pool of water and see the vision we have made. The chill that crept along the ground is already thinning. It will retreat fully soon, leaving the soil open for planting. Green buds appear on the tips of tree branches. The last of the storms my mother cast will leave the land, leaving water behind them, and the rivers and streams will carry that water to where it is needed.
I see the spring that will be, with all its green shoots and early petals and small leaves on the trees. Spring. What a word. I see birds returning to their homes and pecking at puddles of water in the sun. I see people walking outside their homes and stretching, tipping their faces toward the sky. It is already happening. It is almost ready to begin. It is not here yet, and it is all around us.
We return life to the mortal realm, which has been so hungry for life. We tell the life that waited there, under the ground, that it is time to reappear.
My mother stops withholding it. She lets the earth begin again, without interference. She plants life through her spells and her powers, and she will let it grow once again.
When it is finished, she’s still holding my hands, but she has closed her eyes, and she is smiling.
My heart races with giddy joy. My hands shake. Truly, I did not think this would ever be mine to give to the world. If it is only this once, I will treasure this memory forever. But then there’s a thud in my chest. Is she only offering this truce because she intends to keep me here?
“That was wonderful,” I say, my throat tight with emotion. “Thank you, Mother, for doing such beautiful magic with me. I thought the chance was lost to me. I—” I am so overwhelmed that the truth comes to the tip of my tongue without any thought behind me. “I thought these powers were lost to me.”
My mother opens her eyes, confusion in her gaze. “Because of the Underworld?”
“No. From…” I start but I’m all too aware of Aphrodite’s presence. Perhaps that’s why my mother plays coy. I straighten my shoulders, no longer wanting to hide the truth. “From whatever caused my powers to weaken before that. Remember how I feared becoming a nymph?”
Aphrodite laughs. The sudden sound startles me. “Because you took them back, didn’t you?” With her neck arched, she leans back, as if casually playing with me.
I stare at her. “What do you mean?”
“You took them back,” Aphrodite repeats. “You knew they were being stolen by the wine, so now you refuse to drink it. It is a lovely trick.”
“The wine?” Chills run down my spine. A subconscious truth writhes within me, begging to be released.
Aphrodite’s eyes go wide, and she puts her fingertips to her mouth as if she has said this by mistake and then smiles delightfully. “The poisoned wine,” she whispers. “The wine our father gave you.” Her blue eyes spark. “You took your power back because it was never something he could take, only a piece of you he could wish to dull. Much like what Hades has done. He can never have you if he forces it.”
Anger blisters along my skin.
“Hades cannot have you fully if he forces you. These selfish gods. And all in the name of love…” She sighs, peering longingly into the pool as a mortal pair embraces with the fire closing in around them. “Their prayers are as foolish as their actions.”
Hades
In the Underworld, the souls are caught in faded white streaks across the dark sky. Their passings are slower now, leaving only smaller groups behind, and then individual souls. One here, then a pause, and then another. The deaths have slowed and those that appear have arrived with more peace than before. The heartache has softened. Although the stench of fear is ever present in some, there is a sense of normalcy. Of what used to be returning.
There’s a churning in my stomach of slight regret but also of the unknown. The doubt seeps in.
I watch from one of the arched stone windows of my chambers, Minox at my side and Cerberus laid on the floor on my other side. Demeter has changed something. We must listen to the whispers. To the prayers that are ever-changing. The gods can rarely hide from one another, for the mortals' prayers come from truth and often desperation.