She often forgot that the three gods had equal power over the Earth, mostly because Hades and Poseidon did not often venture outside of their own realms. Zeus’s descent to the mortal world had been a reminder, and Hades and Poseidon were not going to stand by while their brother took control of a realm they all had access to. Still, Persephone had not considered what that meant for Hades’ powers. Did he share some of her mother’s abilities?
She continued reading and when she came to the list of Hades’ powers, her eyes widened, and she couldn’t tell if she was more afraid or awed by him.
Hades had many powers, but his primary and most powerful abilities were necromancy, including reincarnation, resurrection, transmigration, death sense, and soul removal. Because of his ownership of the earthly realm, he could also manipulate earth and its elements, and had the ability to draw precious metals and jewels from the ground.
Rich One, indeed.
Additional powers included charm—the ability to sway mortals and lesser-gods to his will, as well as invisibility.
Invisibility?
That made Persephone very nervous. She was going to have to withdraw a promise from the god that he would never use that power with her.
She turned the page and found information on Hades’ symbols and the Underworld.
The narcissus are sacred to the Lord of the Dead. The flower, often in colors of white, yellow, or orange have a short, cup-shaped corona and grow in abundance in the Underworld. They are a symbol of rebirth. It is said Hades chose the flower to give the souls hope of what is to come as they are reincarnated.
Persephone sat back in her chair. This god did not seem like the god she’d met a few days ago. That god dangled hope before mortals in the form of riches. That god made a game out of pain. The one described in this passage sounded compassionate and kind. She wondered what had happened in the time since Hades had chosen his symbol.
I have had success, he’d said.
But what did that mean?
Persephone decided she had more questions for Hades.
When she was finished reading the passage on the Underworld, Persephone made a list of the flowers mentioned in the text—asphodels, aconite, polyanthus, narcissi—and then found a book on plant varieties which she used to take careful notes, making sure to include how to care for each flower and tree, grimacing when the instructions called for direct sunlight. Would Hades’ muted sky be enough? If she were her mother, the light wouldn’t matter. She could make a rose grow in a snowstorm.
Then again, if she were her mother, a garden would already be growing in the Underworld.
When Persephone was finished, she took her list to a flower shop and asked for seeds. When the clerk—an older man with wild, wispy hair and a long, white beard, came to the narcissus, he looked up at her and said, “We do not carry Hades’ symbol here.”
“Why not?” she asked, more curious than anything.
“My dear, few invoke the name of the King of the Dead, and when they do, they turn their heads.”
“It sounds like you have no wish to join the dead in Asphodel,” she said.
The shopkeeper paled, and Persephone left with a few extra flowers, a pair of gloves and a small shovel. She hoped the gloves would keep her touch from killing the seeds before she got them in the ground.
Soon after she left the shop, she found herself outside Nevernight for the third day in a row. It was early enough that no one was waiting outside to get into the club. As she approached, the doors opened, and once she was inside, she took a deep breath and snapped her fingers like Hades had shown her. The world shifted around her, and she found herself in the Underworld, in the same spot where Hades had kissed her.
Her head spun for a few moments. She had never teleported on her own, always using borrowed magic. This time, it was Hades’ magic that clung to her skin. It was unfamiliar but not unpleasant, and lingered on her tongue, smooth and rich like his kiss. She flushed at the memory and quickly turned her attention to the barren land at her feet and made a plan for how she would plant.
She would start near the wall and plant the aconite first, the tallest flower which would bloom purple. Then she moved onto the asphodel, which would bloom white. The polyanthus were next, and would grow in clusters of red. Once she had a plan, she lowered to her knees and started to dig. She settled the first seed into the ground and covered it with the thin soil.
One down.
Several more to go.
Persephone worked until her arms and knees hurt. Perspiration beaded across her forehead, and she wiped it away with the back of her hand. When she was finished, she sat back on her heels and surveyed her work. She couldn’t quite describe how she felt, staring at the grayish plot, except that something dark and uneasy edged its way into her thoughts.