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)
“No more,” I say clearly as the ash and dust settle. I do not have to speak loudly for my voice to be heard at the other end of the hall. “There will be no more fighting.”
There is shuffling as the gods and goddesses of Olympus tuck away their arms. Metal slides on sheaths. Bows land on backs, held there by the finest leather straps. More than a few knives, glimmering with layers of added power, flash in the air as they are put away.
“There will be no more fighting on my behalf in Olympus,” I proclaim, as if it is a prophecy I have heard. Let it be so. I know I am stronger in will and love than my father, but whether I am truly more powerful does not matter. All that matters is if my father thinks I am. And more than that—if he thinks I am like him. If he believes, with all the powers I have found within me, I will end him if he chooses this war…then the war will never be. Whispers grow in the crowd, a few scuffles are heard behind me, but I do not turn. I stay where I am. My mother to my left, father to my right, and Hades ahead of me. All others slowly back away.
“I will choose my own fate,” I state, before the murmurs become shouts. “I do not wish for this but—”
The court has fallen silent again. A prickling grows over my skin with every pair of eyes on me. They are all watching, and my heart thumps faster.
It’s then I realize, I’m not afraid. I’ve sat on a throne built only for me at Hades’s side and looked upon tortured souls in the Underworld. I’ve passed judgment on them, granting them rest or punishment. I’ve seen my word carried out without question, with those souls and everyone in attendance watching. The difference this time is that I am not passing judgment on others. I have looked into my own soul and made a judgment for myself.
In the silence, they wait for me. Wait for me to speak. Wait for me to tell them how this story will end.
My mother, even my father, hold still with bated breath.
“It is known that all the realms are connected. If one realm suffers an imbalance, the other realms will follow.” My father opens his mouth to argue. “This is true. We have seen it already, and none of us wish to see it again. We must follow the divine law.”
“Tell us, Persephone,” Aphrodite calls. She has both my mother’s hands in hers now and guides her toward me, her eyes flicking between my mother and my father. Aphrodite keeps them moving until they are level with Hades. I do not know if my mother knows this. She has not taken her eyes off me. “What balance can there be when hearts are torn?” Her knowing eyes reach mine.
I reach into the pocket of my gown and take out the six seeds I have kept with me since Hades tipped them into my hand. Six eaten and six remaining. Half and half. I have moved them from gown to gown, counting and re-counting them, making sure they were with me always. They have been my prized possessions, and now I know why they are so valuable.
“Hades.” I speak his name and a faint light comes to his eyes. “You gave me a dozen seeds, one for each cycle of the moon throughout the year. I have eaten six.”
The crowd murmurs among themselves once again—to demand to know more, I think—but I hold up my hand to silence them.
They fall silent.
My mother whimpers, a frown marring her face, and I can barely meet her gaze. Instead I focus on my lover. Who will bend the worlds’ wills for me. Who will rip the binds of the Underworld to be with me in council.
“My Lord, king of the dead and ruler of the Underworld .” I dip my chin but keep my eyes on Hades. “Of the twelve moon cycles of the year, we shall have six together.” My voice nearly cracks at my decision. I did not know it until I spoke. My mother’s gasp is chilling, but I continue. “For six cycles, I will stay with you.”
My mother lets out a cry that is not a word. It is only a sound of sorrow and betrayal.
“Mother.” I meet her eyes next although doing so forces tears to my eyes. “For the remaining six cycles, I will be here with you.”
“You do not understand daughter, I cannot contain my grief. For the time you are away, it will be felt by all. The spell cannot be undone. The plants will wither and a coldness will settle in all the lands. It is only when you return, that life will break through the cold hard ground and begin again. My suffering…perhaps my suffering… ” Her expression is pained. She reaches into her pocket, and her eyes widen with shock. Her hand reveals nothing and she pulls in the pocket before staring daggers at Hecate, whose cloak has turned to a vibrant red. My mother’s dismay is evident, and I am left with more questions than answers. I do not understand what the two share in this moment.