Where is she?

The forest is vast and tricky; she could be anywhere. This is her realm- inside it she is
lost to all but herself. How she loves these hide-and-seek games. A crack of wig, a
flash of cloth and a whisper of a laugh are clues I have to chase after.

The old trail leads deep in the wood where rarely man walks. Among the towering
trees the sun is scarce and sight is unreliable. The wood ensnares me in the same hold
she has on me with the colours, the shapes, the sounds and smells.

I catch up when she pauses to pick a flower –she never tires –and I let myself listen to
what the forest tells me. My fingers take up a life of their own and roam on the strings
of my lyre. Then she sits still and alert like the other forest creatures to the music of
the lyre and I approach even closer.

The anticipation of the catch intensifies. I am sitting face to face with her when I drop
the instrument and I have her in my arms. We fall on the forest floor and roll until I
cannot separate her scent from the forest’s. But then again she is the forest.

She has skin with the fragrance of berry fruits and hair of moss. A laughter lovely like
the sound of water falling and eyes like leaves and tree bark at the same time. A body
lithe and serpentine, hair the colour of autumn in the woods, curls of copper, finely
crafted and ever changing. My nymph.

My Eurydice is gone. Where is she? She is dead.

“Queen, your lord husband wishes to see you.”

“Tell him the winter is long and he is early. I shan’t be gone for weeks and I may see
him another time.”

The solid seeming servant evaporated like a wisp of smoke leaving her alone again in
her elaborately golden chamber. The finest treasures of this world and the Above
couldn’t make it any less a prison.

The great doors opened violently startling her.

“You will answer my summons immediately when I send word for you.” The
impressive form of Hades dressed in black, long white-blond hair flying around his
face, stormed in her room. She splayed her intricately woven blood red skirts around
her in a deep bow, mocking him.

“My lord forgive me. I assumed my lord had mistaken the day of my departure,” she
said coldly.

“Don’t assume anything concerning my wishes or purposes. You will not shame me
in front of my guests. You will present yourself by my side for the world to see.”
“Of course not lord. I am here to serve you.” He breathed heavily and she knew she
had angered him. It was a usual enough response from him.

“Serving me is not what I require from you, damn you. You’re my wife.”

“Indeed lord. And that is damning in itself.”

“If you don’t like to be queen of the Underworld you are free to leave.” He was
mocking her back.

“I am not free!” she seethed. “You know perfectly well that I am not free! Bound in
Hell for six months of the year because you tricked me!”

“I didn’t force your mouth to eat the pomegranate seeds,” he said maliciously.

He came forward and his black shape loomed over her. “You knew precisely what
would have happened if you had eaten food of the underworld.”

She composed herself, wrapped a veil of apathy around her and pushed the coldness
out of her in waves until the entire chamber was covered in frost. He shivered and
backed away looking startled. She wondered if he ever blamed himself for the making
of the Iron Queen. That was what they called her behind her back.

“Milord has not said what his purpose for coming to my chambers is.”

“Your presence is required to grace the court during the official functions. You are
my queen and you have obligations other than making the Worlds bloom,” he said
after a while.

She turned away to hide her satisfaction and sat opposite her vanity table with her
back turned to him. “There is a condition.”

“Let’s hear it.”

“Perhaps milord would remove his mistress from the court thus allowing his queen an
illusion of dignity?”

He laughed. “All the tantrums and iciness are because of her? Is my queen jealous?”

“I will not go anywhere near the palace if there’s the slightest chance I might
encounter her. The Olympians think low of me as it is.”

“Why do you care what they think?”

“They are family.”

“To me as well.”

“Perhaps you should treat them as such.”

“It’s too late. It makes no difference.”

“It’s not too late for me.”

“You are wrong Persephone. You simply refuse to acknowledge it.”

She picked up a heavily engraved golden box filled with jewellery and perused it in
feint interest studiously ignoring him. “I am weary,” she said. “What of my
condition?”

“Done.”

“Thank you milord. You charity is great.” She put the box back on her vanity and
straightened the thin lace on the long fitted cuffs of her dress.

“You can look me in the eye when you say it.”

“It is not proper to display hate milord to another. It causes bad spirits.” She didn’t
hear him leave.

Hermes, one of the few gods who visited the realm of the dead and the only one doing
so regularly and with no qualms gave his greetings to Queen Persephone. She was
sitting on the banquet table some distance farther than Pluto among the spirits of her
train. Like usual she didn’t touch food that was of the Underworld.

“My queen,” he said touching his lips to the back of her hand. “Bringer of spring on
this world and Above, you are as heartbreaking as ever.” She twitched a smile.

“Charming as always cousin. You have such a way with words.”

“Then my queen would consider a request?” he said grinning.

“Sisyphus the thief has a thousand years of torture to fulfil his sentence,” she said
guessing his next words. “Ask of me something else.”

He sighed dramatically. “Ah, well. It was worth a try.”

“I have faith in you Hermes god of trade and deception. You may deliver your spawn
still.”

“And I have a thousand years to do it.” She laughed at his wry tone.

He took his leave and turned to King Hades.

“Uncle,” he bowed. “Your servant.” He took his seat to Pluto’s other side. “It is a pity
your kingdom is perpetually cold,” he said pointedly. “But I trust your bed is warm.”

Pluto laughed. “You have a good eye for women Psychopomp. I’m very pleased with
your recommendation. Where did you find Eurydice?”
“She was a wood nymph of the Aboveworld married to a nephew of mine. The lad
had a gift of music. He was very sorry when she died.”

“Who is this nephew I don’t know?”

“Orpheus of voice and fingers gold. His music can tame wild beasts. Silence breaks
even from birds just to listen to him sing. Since his wife died the music he makes only
brings tears of sorrow.” He paused as if remembering Orpheus’ tunes.

“It’s the divine in him,” Hermes said proudly. “He is the son of the muse Calliope and
Apollo. I gave him his lyre on his twelfth birthday.”

“Do you act the patron for your kinsmen’s wives often nephew? Should I be
concerned?”

Hermes god of cunning blushed. “I assure you Lord Death. It was a one-time
occurrence.” Pluto laughed.

“You spoiled bastard, leave my sight and go make some devious man rich. Stop
lounging in my court looking for favours.” Hermes smiled a mischievous grin, bowed
his head and vanished.

“Our family is strange, lady.”

“I think it may be some taint in our blood. The Fates weave horrible destinies for the
descendants of our line. Had my father not been Zeus and my mother was any other
but Demeter- would you have stolen me then?”

“Had I not been Hades- I might not have had to.”

“Let’s not linger over things that can’t be changed,” she said. “It sounds far too
similar to the souls in Tartarus bemoaning their doom and begging –always begging-
for a second chance. The silent ones are more interesting. You never learn if they
regretted their evil deeds nor their reasons for doing them.”

“It is as if they feel they deserve it. Mothers who kill their sons or sons who kill their
mothers. The Danaides murdered a man each, forty-nine total, and not one complains
for their punishment.”

“They’re busy,” he said colourlessly. “Perhaps that’s why.”

“You’d think they’d give up trying to fill a leaky water butt. Yet they hope.”

“You will give them peace?”

She laughed. “They have a purpose. ‘Complete the task and you are free.’ Isn’t that
peace enough? But it’s always your decision husband. It is you who can give Hermes
what he wants. But you keep Sisyphus to his punishment.”
“He insulted me,” he replied darkly.

“Yet everyone thinks it’s my will that keeps him tormented here.”

“They believe you can make me change my mind.” She laughed louder and the
ringing sound reverberated through the hall.

“You let them believe. It’s an excellent strategic move. It suits your purposes to have
them think I influence your lordship.”

“Madame I have asked you not to assume on my purposes.”

“But of course.” She inclined her head condescendingly.

“My queen spends too much time in Tartarus, he said in the same detached tone. Do
you not find Elysian to your liking anymore?”

“It bores me: the peace, the trees, the flowers and fruit out of season, singing creeks,
and placid people.”

“I thought you created it to be a reminder of the Aboveworld, which you so miss

during the winter.”

“It is nothing like Above,” she said sharply. “Your garden is dead. It lacks meaning.
Nothing struggles to live because it does not have to. It’s just pretty.

“Tartarus is the real face of your kingdom. The souls remember what they have lost
and can never have it back. That is my reminder of the Aboveworld. She paused for a
calming breath. Why do you insist I attend court? This conversation is growing old.”
He ignored her.

“This is your kingdom too,” he said in time. “It’s not meant to be alive. But it’s all
you have.”

“It’s all you have given me.”

She was in a green field. Wheat nor ripe yet for harvest but dotted with colourful
irises, daisies, poppies anemones, flowers of every colour. She loved irises. The girls
of her escort had spread and were only more dots of colour in her sight. She heard the
occasional distant laughter and happy cries growing fainter as she moved farther away
picking irises. A slight breeze brought her hair in her eyes forcing her to push gold
strands the colour of ripe wheat back continuously. The girlish squeals, the ruffling of
leaves, the feathery sounds of insects whispered in her ears. Plant and earth smells
with every breath of air, too familiar to bother distinguish them. The sun was so bright
she had to squint and shade her face with her hand just to look around. Her cheeks and
shoulders had grown warm under the sun-browned skin.
Her yellow dress was dusty and full of grass stains. Her bare feet smudged with dirt.
Her skirt was filled with irises, green and blue over the yellow fabric and still she cut
more, greedy, each one she found more beautiful that the last.

She paused only for a moment to wipe the sweat from her brow and suddenly realised
she couldn’t hear the girls anymore. Their laughs were replaced but a muffled
rumbling under her toes. The ground began to shake and the rumbling became a roar
coming from unimaginable depths underneath. Dust lifted and filled her nostrils. The
ground shook so much she lost her balance. The irises flew off her skirt and the
ground sped towards her. She never touched it: a strong almost bruising grip closed
around her waist.

She was flung backwards fast, hung on a man’s shoulders, and turned around facing
the sky. As the ground began to close around her she screamed. She had a glimpse of
splayed irises and blinding sun before the earth swallowed them both.

Every green field she would ever walk on would forever bring memories of that field.
The smell of irises still made her sick to her stomach. And pomegranates had been
banned from the Underground for aeons.

But how could she keep away from growing things; even if the false sun didn’t brown
her skin. Her own presence gave life to Elysian. Where she walked a trail of green
followed. Red pools of poppies sprouted here and there and apples and apple
blossoms scented sweetly the air. From farther away she heard a sad melody and
wanted to weep.

A voice startled her. “Goddess! Sweet Mother!” A soul appeared to her. It was
Eurydice.

“You. Out of my sight.” and made to spell her away. Eurydice fell on her knees
clutching the hem of Persephone’s skirt.

“No, please. Mother, Lifebringer, please hear me.” The girl had a desperate look. “I
beg you,” she said lowering her red head.

“You’re a nymph.” Persephone said recognising the titles given to her by nature’s
dwellers.

“I was my lady. Now I am only a lowly ghost of your kingdom. I need to speak to
you.”

“A ghost who shares my husband’s bed.”

Wet stains grew on her dress where the ghost’s tears fell. I must obey my king. I
never meant to—Forgive me.

“What do you want?” she snapped and around them the vegetation froze and withered
into a brown ring.
The girl let go of Persephone’s dress and hugged herself. “A man-a bard- is coming.”
Eurydice turned herself towards the distant tune. “Can you hear him? He makes such
beautiful music.”

“What of him?”

“He’s coming for me.” She looked at Persephone then with anxious doe eyes. “I love
him and he loves me. You must not let him further in. He will die.”

“He must be dead if he’s come this far. There’s nothing I can do for him.” She turned
to leave but Eurydice grabbed her skirts once more.

“He’s not dead! Listen queen. Even his sorrow carries his spirit and vitality. He
lives.”

Persephone stopped and listened. Immediately it enveloped her in the sad mood she’d
put aside to speak to the nymph. It sunk inside her and brought tears to the corners of
her eyes. She knew that if her control would slip she’d be lost. She jerked awake in
astonishment. “He- is very good.”

“He is the best. He is Orpheus.”

“I’m afraid I can’t help you. He is human and comes in his own will. Nothing can
stop him but death.” Eurydice started crying.

Persephone walked away leaving new greenness behind to replace what she took in
anger. The bard’s music followed her.

“My Queen you are requested at court.”

“Where is the King?”

“He awaits you. His mood is black milady.” The haunting music had been resonating
everywhere in Hades for an hour. Which meant that Eurydice’s lover had reached the
centre of the Underworld. He’d come for her.

She took her seat next to Lord Death and waited. He was furious as always when a
mortal entered his realm without permission.

When the doors opened, music filled the hall. Relentless, it took control of the
emotions of everyone in the hall. Persephone’s train girls wept silent tears as to not
disturb the divine melody.

Orpheus stood facing the throne playing his lyre and singing. He was a handsome
golden man-boy whose music made him godlike. He sang a deep and horrible ache
that beat with his heart and spread to every person in the crowded hall.

The voice and instrument were means to express it. There was no comfort, no escape
from it. Persephone took his pain inside her until it found her own. They melded in
one and together welled up to find release through her eyes. Tears brimmed her eyes
and she found she hadn’t the will to stop them from flowing down her cheeks.

Softly he let the music die and a vast silence bore over the hall. As people woke from
their trance, some burst into sobs others wiped their cheeks again and again.

She looked at Pluto and he looked back. He seemed as astonished as she had been
when she first heard this music. He turned to face the bard slowly, frowning.

“You crossed into Hell, travelled through it to come before me. You tamed my keeper
and my dog with your music and now my court. The journey alone needs rewarding,
much less your godly gift. Have you a favour to ask?”

“I do indeed King Hades. I had a wife, Lord Death. She was not one day my bride
when bitten by a snake and died. I ask that my beloved be returned to me. Let me take
her back to the living with me. I need her.”

“You are not the first or the last that has ever lost a loved one. But your gift is unique
and expresses your love so clearly for all to feel. Who is she whom you love so
much?”

“Her name is Eurydice Lord.”

The ground shook and blackness covered the hall. Rain broke inside and as lightning
flashed Persephone saw that Pluto’s throne was empty. She spelled away his made up
storm and followed him.

He was in his chambers pacing furiously back and forth. She took a seat and waited.

“No!” he yelled.

“My lord?”

“The girl is mine! She’s dead. She belongs to me. I’ll kill that boy and have him sing
to me for the rest of eternity.”

“Lord Hades—”

“No dead can walk Aboveground,” he cut her off.

“Plutona!” She yelled.

“What!” He snapped stopping his stride.

“He has the right to ask for anything. You must give him what he wants. It is the law.
There is precedent. You are a fair judge. You know this is right.”

“I am Hades. I am the law here. Eurydice is mine. I’ll keep her as long as I wish. If I
grant every favour that comes my way, every young foal fancying himself a hero will
come areaping. I shan’t allow this.”
“They are in love. By Styx they’re so young and had so little time together. You felt
his grief. Have you no pity?”

“They? You spoke to Eurydice?”

“Yes she came to see me and begged me to stop him before he got himself killed.”

“She defied my orders.”

“It was outside the palace.” She sighed.” Let them be. You have a myriad of other
silly wood nymphs to choose from.”

She waited for a response. Suddenly he came upon her and grabbed her painfully by
the arms. “You vindictive Harpy. You’re scheming against me. You don’t like me
having another woman and be happy. I can imagine you helping that scrawny lad
through all of Hades. Of course. Tell me, is it because I lock your lover in the darkest
hole of Tartarus every time he visits? Or is it because you’re bitter that Theseus
couldn’t get you out?

“Nobody can free you. You’re bound to be the Iron Queen forever. Hecatah, the Bitch
of Hell.”

She was shaking. The black void radiating from his skin pulled her in and she fought,
eyes shut tight, to keep it away before she fainted.

He let her go and she fell. “If I have plotted against you my King, choose a befitting
punishment for my crime,” she said faintly, heaving with effort.

He helped her up –she beat at him but he persisted- and sat her back on the chair.

“Name your price to release them,” she said once she composed herself.

He rubbed his face tiredly. “I can’t simply give them my blessing and let them go.”

“You are Hades. You are the law,” she mimicked his earlier words. “Give Orpheus an
easy task for appearances’ sake.”

“What will you give me?”

“Anything. Which one of my maids do you want? Take them all. The young
sacrificial virgins I was given this Yule? Take them too.”

“No. I want you to share my bed.” Persephone raised her brows.

“Me? Atropos only knows when was the last time you wished to have sex with me.
What’s come over you?” He shrugged.

“You’ll give everything else too easily. I want to remind you where you belong.”
“Beneath you, I am sure.” She stood. “Agreed. Give Orpheus his Eurydice and I’ll
come to you- willingly,” she said distastefully.

“Why would you do something like that for a beardless boy and his infatuation?”

She started pacing as well. “His divine gift. I felt his song like I haven’t felt anything
in a long time?” She faced him. “You have not answered. Do we have a bargain?”

“We have a bargain. Shall we return?” he said smiling, head inclined. She took his
proffered arm.

“You asked for your dead wife to be returned to you.”

Hades addressed Orpheus before him but spoke loudly for the crowd. “It takes a very
good reason for the dead to walk the Earth again. As it is in my power to give you
what you ask, Orpheus, must prove that my decision is the right one.”

“Therefore you will return to the living unharmed and Eurydice will follow you.” At
this, Orpheus face beamed. Strong murmurs broke among the gathered. With a wave
of Pluto’s hand Eurydice appeared before them. Orpheus made to reach for her but his
living hand pierced through her ghost form.

“Walk away, don’t look back, don’t reach for her, ignore her whispers and touches,
until you both have left Hades completely and together you will live to grow old.” At
this point Pluto turned to Persephone. She nodded slightly without looking back.
“Remember, only once you have passed the gates of Hell she will be returned to you.”

Persephone stood and spoke to Orpheus. “Your music touched us. May many a long
year pass until it echoes in our halls again.”

“Thank you Your Majesties. My Queen you honour me. Thank you!” Orpheus bowed
and with a last stunned happy glance at Eurydice’s face he ran out.

Eurydice looked longingly to the direction of her lover’s path as if not hoping to
believe. “This is the only chance you are allowed. Will you not take it?” Persephone
asked.

The girl looked at her and Pluto with tears in her eyes. “You have our leave to follow
him,” she spoke again.

“Begone girl,” Lord Death shouted and Eurydice vanished.

Before Persephone and Pluto parted ways she told him, “Interesting choice for a
task.”

“But not facile; he is young and eager.”

“He will manage. He loves her.”

“Precisely. Be well my Queen.”

She headed towards the racket with her maids trailing behind her. A wailing lifted
over the other noises and the souls in Elysian disturbed from their peace were
distressed.

“You theres” she stopped a lackey. “Have the damned escaped from Tartarus? What’s
going on?”

“No my Queen,” the lackey said scared. “All is well in Tartarus. It seems there’s a
woman’s soul in front of the palace screaming and it’s causing turmoil.”

He was right. Hundreds of ghosts were yelling and crying, drifting to and fro looking
lost but most kneeling or lying curled around a solitary figure. Persephone began
transporting ghosts away to the fields simultaneously spreading calmness to the
remaining.

“Silence!” The voice of Hades boomed and all immediately fell still and quiet- except
the one crying strongest. It was indeed a woman. Eurydice pulling her hair, her
incorporeal cheeks phosphorescent with nail scratches.

Persephone opened a path and went to her. She lifted her up. She touched Eurydice’s
face to stop her screaming. Tears kept running from the girl’s face.

The entrance of the palace was empty but for Pluto when she finished. “If you have
had any part in this I swear to Styx I will make you pay.”

“I didn’t need to do anything. The boy was too eager I told you.”

“What happened?”

“One step away from happiness and the idiot turns around too soon. He defied my
orders.”

“Where is he? He was right here. Listen. I can hear his song. He can’t be far. I must
find him. Listen.” Eurydice mumbled. Pluto came closer to look at her. Eurydice
cowered away from him. “No! I’m free. I follow Orpheus. Listen. He’s only a little
further away.” And started sobbing voicelessly.

“Enough. Let her be.”

He backed away again. “Shame. So pretty. It would be best if she drank from Lethe.”

“This is what I planned,” she replied distracted looking at the pinched, bloodied face
on her shoulder.

“You knew this would happen.” Persephone’s voice was quiet. “Your judgement of
men was always great.”
He smiled. “Persephone you overestimate my worth. Besides what would I gain out of
this? Look at her.” He walked away.

“Satisfaction.”

“Queen, your lord husband asks for you in his chambers,” the messenger said.

Persephone smiled. “Tell him I am indisposed.” She fled before the spirit would have
time to return to his master- and he would find her eventually.

He was waiting at the gates. He clapped his gloved hands as she approached. “Kudos
to you Persephone.” She inclined her head gracefully. “I admit I had forgotten. It is
that time of the year again.”

“Indeed. The young seeds await my return to grow out of the earth. Green life must
replace winter’s snowy mantle.”

“You have a bargain to fulfil.”

“One that was forfeit from the start.”

“Oh no. Do not demean yourself with such cheap tricks. The deal stands! You have to
pay
up.”

“I didn’t get my end of the bargain! Because of you Orpheus returned Aboveworld
alone.”

“And because of you Orpheus made it through the Underworld in the first place.”

“You can’t prove it,” she said after awhile.

“And I was being fair.” he shot back.

“I do not intend to break the bargain. I will come to your bed.” He crossed his arms
over his chest smugly. “However since no time limit was set I can come at any time I
wish. Be it now or the next year or the next century.”

His face fell and his anger flared into absence of matter around him. He saw her smirk
and forced it down. He laughed and it disconcerted her.

He took her hand and kissed the back of it courteously. His dark eyes caught her own
and held them. Again he smiled. She took her hand back. “You are conceited,” she
spat.

“A godly virtue. Be well. I will count the days until Equinox.”

“Be well Pluto.”