Persephone seethed.
One day, she would turn her mother into a carrion flower for keeping her magic from manifesting.
“Do not worry, my love. You will learn your power as you learn yourself,” Hecate promised.
The two made their way back to the palace. For a while they were able to stay away from the topic of Hades and Apollo, mostly because Hecate used the walk as a teaching moment after they’d happened upon a grove of hemlock.
“At some point, I will instruct you in the art of poison,” Hecate said. “It’s a useful skill for any lady to possess.”
Persephone gave Hecate an uncertain look.
“I don’t think poisoning is useful skill, Hecate.”
“It is when you must kill discreetly.”
“And when do you need to kill discreetly?”
She shrugged. “There are all sorts of instances—abusers of women and children, sex traffickers, rapists…the list goes on.”
Huh, perhaps Hecate was onto something.
They walked along in silence for a little while, Persephone contemplating the usefulness of poison against one god in particular when she asked, "What does Hades have against Apollo?"
She knew why she disliked him, of course, but Hades’ fury seemed to surpass her own.
She added, “And don’t tell me to ask him.”
Hecate offered a small smile. “It’s what all gods have against each other, I suppose—the knowledge of their history and deeds.”
Hecate pause and faced Persephone.
“Hades isn’t trying to be difficult. He fears for you. Apollo...his vengeance is cruel.”
“I know.”
“You don’t,” Hecate argued, and Persephone was a little surprised by her tone. "In antiquity, he and his sister murdered fourteen children. The children themselves were innocents, it was their mother, Niobe, who had offended them after she claimed to be superior to the gods' own mother, Leto."
Fourteen children? How was the world not appalled by these two gods?
“Needless to say, Apollo is unpredictable, and rather than take a chance, Hades has brought you here to the Underworld—his realm—where any action Apollo takes will be considered making war upon the God of the Dead. Apollo might be rash, but he isn’t stupid. He does not want Hades as an enemy.”
Despite feeling a new kind of terror, Persephone was glad she asked.
They returned to the palace where they had dinner and discussed the finer details of the Summer Solstice Celebration.
“I have commissioned a new crown,” Hecate said just as Persephone was about to take a drink from her wine. She spit it back into the cup.
“I’m sorry. What?”
“Ian is very excited.”
Persephone glared. Of course, she’d bring Ian into this. The soul was a master blacksmith. Before he died, he’d made armor and weapons and was favored by Artemis. It was that favor that got him killed. The soul now used his skill in the Underworld to craft beautiful, intricate things—lampposts and gates and the occasional crown.
“I don’t need another crown, Hecate. The one Ian made for me is very beautiful. I can wear it to the solstice celebration.”
She didn’t say what she was really thinking. A crown was presumptuous. Hades wasn’t speaking to her right now, how could she be sure he still wanted her as his queen?
“You could, but why would you when you’ll have a new one?”