For the Love of Hades (The Loves of Olympus) by Sasha Summers Page A

could not laugh. His smile faded, for that had been his dearest wish for so many long years. “I will learn to love her daughter as I love her mother.”
    The man regarded Erysichthon with a peculiar twist to his mouth. “You are a loyal subject indeed, mighty Erysichthon. I can see why Demeter would place her daughter in your care.”
    He nodded. “We shall see, friend. We shall see.”

Chapter Six
     
    “Sweet vines,” Persephone whispered, clasping the fragile shoots delicately. She knelt, not caring that she’d be covered in soot. She shuddered with worry. The vines did not call out to her, they were too still, too quiet. “Hear me.”
    There was no answer from the vines, but the faint scrape of claws on rock reached her.
    She was not alone in the vineyard. She sucked in breath, peering into the gloom. Between the low lying fog and dying plumes of smoke, she could see little. The hair on the nape of her neck stood.
    “Come away, Persephone,” Crysanthe implored softly. “There’s too much damage. We will tell your mother there was nothing to be done…”
    She heard Crysanthe and Myrinne, but her eyes sought out their silent companion. She found him, eyes warm and golden, watching her. She knew the broad slope of his shoulders and the line of his velvety black snout. Hades’ hound…
    Was Hades here? Her heart thumped rapidly, causing her to suck in her breath.
    She’d not thought he’d venture out, not when his realm was filled each day by the never-ending flow of casualties. The Persians were a fierce foe.
    As her eyes wandered the charred vines and stakes, she wondered if this was how Hades’ realm would look.  Black, dark, despair, and defeat. Is that what the dead had to look forward to? She would ask him… if he was here. If he was here, if there was a chance of seeing him, she would prefer to do so alone.
    Crysanthe and Myrinne complained, anxious to leave this place.
    Myrinne was finishing, “If rain finds us, we’d best be home.”
    Persephone glanced at the sky, unable to separate the smoke from the clouds overhead. Rain was not her enemy. She welcomed the showers for they brought life. She spoke carefully. “I cannot return to my mother with such news. I can save them. They are Dolopian grapes, needed for nectar. I must try.”
    The hound moved, capturing her attention once more. He disappeared amongst the vines, a ghost in the gloom.
    She shook her head. No matter how her heart leapt at the thought of seeing Hades, she must remember her duty. She must do what she’d come to do. She brushed the brittle leaves away from the vines roots. She scraped at the earth, clawing the dead debris away, to plunge her hands into the moist brown soil beneath. It hummed weakly, life flickering.
    She smiled up at them, overcome with relief. “There is hope here. I cannot leave it untended.”
    Myrinne sighed. “What shall we do?”
    “This place… It unsettles me.” Crysanthe’s voice quavered.
    Her companions were discomfited. She understood. All around them lay evidence of man’s worst abilities. The vineyard, once well tended and abundant, had been annihilated. Such destruction was wasteful and thoughtless.
    “Go back.” She raised her hand when they both began to argue. “I must do what I can here, to help those still living, those I can save. Listen closely. Gather whatever seedlings have long roots. I’ve at least six ready for planting, but leave the rest. And bring soil from my pot; it might be needed to repair such devastation.”
    Such an errand was necessary for the repairs these grapes would need. And it would give her the time to seek out Hades.
    “Crysanthe should go,” Myrinne said. “It’s not safe for you to be alone.”
    “No, no, Myrinne, you go,” Crysanthe shook her head as she spoke.
    Persephone shook her head. “Both of you go. One of you cannot carry the seedlings and soil without damaging one or both. Besides, rain is coming. I would have the planting done before