Persephone's Arc

Chapter 5 of 7

Persephone walked toward the gold point for a long time. The torch grew. It was not one torch but two, tall and bright, set on either side of a gate that should not have stood in this wasteland. Stone arched up from the cracked ground. Red light burned inside the doorway like a banked fire. Her mother had built a gate in the snow and was waiting on the other side. The city behind the gate was frozen solid. Towers of ice rose where buildings had been. Streets shone like glass. A few people moved far below, small and slow, bundled against a cold that should not exist. This was what her mother's grief had done. Persephone looked at it and felt her hands shake. Demeter stood between the two torches. Her gown was gold, but the fruit at its hem was gray and withered. She did not step forward. "You came," Demeter said. "Show me what you brought." Persephone's mouth opened. She had nothing. No gift. No proof. Only Hades' ring on her finger and a crown of runes on her brow, and neither would soften her mother. She thought of lying. She thought of pleading. Instead she lifted her empty hands. "I brought myself," she said. "That is all." Demeter's face did not move. "Then go back." The torches burned steady. The gate did not open. Persephone stood in the snow and understood she had failed the test she had not known was a test. A shadow moved at the edge of the torchlight. Hermes stepped from the dark, sandals quiet on the ice. "She came alone across a road that kills men," he said. "That is not nothing. But it is not enough for you, and we both know it." He looked at Persephone. "Walk with me. There is one thing left to try, and it is not here."