Persephone Reimagined

Chapter 8

Persephone

My relief at Hades' peaceful departure was short lived. Artemis dragged me by the wrist, through the forest, to where her attendants waited.

The maidens bowed in unison.

"Mistress," a maiden with a small coronet said with a fist crossing her heart. "Shall we prepare for battle?"

"No, Atalanta," Artemis replied shortly. "I must return this babe to her mother's side before she stirs up anymore trouble."

My protest came out as a small squawk as I was hauled into Artemis' golden chariot.

Four golden hinds leapt forward in harness, at their mistress's silent command. The fifth, a stag, raced around us. At times, dashing ahead, others times, prancing easy circles around the car.

Between hunting spears and spare quivers full of arrows, there was barely room for the two of us to stand.

My cheeks still burned, but I was relieved to be removed from the disapproving eyes of the women who'd eternally forsworn the company of men.

Artemis remained silent. Colder than ever. The only time she ever showed any warmth was when she tried teaching me hunting or sparring. (Neither of which were activities I relished.) But there was usually at least some bit of easiness between us—some hint of tolerance or small approval. None remained.

The huntress was imposing despite her small stature and knee-length skirt. A small tiara bore the crescent moon upon her head, and wisps of her braided hair writhed like tiny snakes in the wind as she drove.

It was just as well she didn't speak to me. Her occasional mutters of "foolish girl' were lost in the wind.

Mother's temple appeared before I was ready. But, then, was I ever ready for her scolding?

"Demeter," Artemis called and stepped out.

Mother's hurried form appeared from within the dimly lit chamber.

Though I'd never been allowed inside, I could see the alter dripping with ears of corn. Offerings of the harvest were strewn about the floor—a colorful mixture of wheat sheaves, grains, vegetables, and fruit.

Something green caught my eye. Apples. Mortals had offered my mother apples. My apples.

A tinge of jealousy flared, then was quickly overcome by excitement. My creation was being harvested by mortals—eaten by mortals. And even deemed worthy as a sacred offering to their patron goddess.

With a second look, I discovered other fruits of my design, and even flowers encircling the alter.

Were the mortals bringing offerings for me as well?

Mother's sharp gasp brought me back to the moment.

"Hades?" she said.

"Yes," Artemis nearly spat. "I discovered them just as he proposed to the girl."

"He did n..." I started but was cut off.

Mother grabbed my arms and stared into my eyes with a horrified look.

"You didn't," she said, then exhaled. "No, surely not. If you had accepted him, he would have taken you away."

She pulled me tightly to her.

"And I would never have seen you again," she cried.

"I'm sure she would have," Artemis accused. "She looked to be completely in his power when I arrived. You must do something about this girl immediately or you will find her off and married to some scoundrel the first you blink."