The Ballad of Persephone Page 9

  Octavia throws her a devilish smirk. “Don’t forget, you have your share of secrets too, hypocrite.”

  “Weren’t your daughter and Osiris supposed to be matched?”

  “They were, but the little shit wanted to explore the world. He claims he was not ready for marriage. Poor girl was devastated. She’s quite young, only 300…she will be alright.”

  “An adventurer like his father.” Farah chuckles. “I like him.”

  “And Persephone, is there a match coming soon?” Octavia’s question stirs an internal revulsion in Farah. Nausea forces wine back up from her gut. Prince Vali’s purring voice assaults her imagination.

  It reminds her of his plans to be executed the moment the royal entourage arrives in Northern Illyria. She harbors misgivings about the affair; this is why she insisted on sailing for Corinth – her guilty way of delaying the inevitable.

  “No,” the Queen says. “She refuses any mention of a match or marriage. Her father only plays into her childish avoidance.” Bitter bile settles in her throat.

  Away from everyone, Persephone finds much-desired solitude in a large rotunda facing the sea. The real source for her anxious departure resides somewhere on the grounds. She peers at the shuttle parked in an open space. Maybe they are in the city. Footsteps entering the enclosure startle her displaced thoughts, but calm subdues her tension at the sight of Thoth. She jumps up and hugs her cousin with joy.

  “I’ve missed you,” she says with love in her voice.

  Thoth smiles and greets her with a kiss on her forehead. “It’s been too long. Three years is it?”

  “Feels longer. In the meantime, I’ve had to put up with your rotten brother. Did you know what he was doing in Aryavan?”

  Thoth bursts out laughing. “What my little brother does is his concern, unless it puts you in danger. He told me what happened.”

  “A whore and a snitch. Thoth, is the whole world like that? The Aryan village I mean.”

  “Thankfully, no.” He looks at her with pride and a smile. “The world is a big place, made up of wonders and culture you are yet to experience.”

  “If my mother has her way, I’d see none of it on my own. Not to mention papa. I love him more than life, but he has his share of blame in locking me away from the world.”

  Thoth takes a step back. “I take no side in things beyond my station.”

  “Don’t patronize me with calculated avoidance. We may have different parents but you are my brother. Speak your mind.”

  Pleasant shock shows on his face at Persephone’s boldness; he finds it refreshing. “Alright… protecting you from the world is tantamount to lying, no matter the troubles of the past. There is a balance of good with bad in the world, or there used to be. Avoiding realities which will one day be your inheritance is a handicap they will regret.”

  She makes a sarcastic face. “Did you know I am a god? I did not realize the extent to which this blasphemy had taken shape.”

  “I’ve seen what’s happening to your name, and the Forefathers.”

  “Uncle Vali says I have a spark of the divine in me. I did not realize it would amount to this.”

  “Divinity is reserved for the Creator,” Thoth says. “What you are told is well-placed deception; this I have come to realize in the past months.”

  Persephone looks at him intently. “What can we do about it?”

  “Nothing. We are a tolerant society now – this is a good thing, ‘Sephie. It allows a version of freedom to those who lack it. Intolerance breeds disastrous outcomes in one way or another.”

  “I don’t like it,” she whispers. “Is there a way to avoid all the bad?”

  “I don’t know. I fear forces are plotting against you by propping up the new religions. Be vigilant in your interactions with everyone from now on, even those closest to you.”

  “Surely, not my parents.” Her tension returns.

  “Yes,” he whispers, leaning in close. “Even though they may not be involved with…anything, they may be susceptible to external influences.”

  Seagull calls echo from above, breaking the uncomfortable silence, like the ‘Meow’ of hungry cats or the cackling of disobedient children. Wings gliding on soft wind pulls the Princess into deep thought. She exhales a comforting breath, the way Thoth taught her long ago. She grabs his bracelet to flick the beads like she did as a child. “I’ve heard that you commune with the Forefathers themselves. Is it true?”

  “I heard you got a taste of your abilities. Is it true?”

  “Shhhh. It’s a secret.” She looks at Thoth’s smile, realizing the nature of her question.

  “What are they like? Scary with lightning bolts shooting out their asses?” They chuckle.

  “They are as human as the rest of us. Well, their souls anyway. Yet, the two times I have encountered them, my very essence was shaken. Do you remember their names?”

  “Dragoi, the warrior. Odin, the peacekeeper. Shiva the bearer of wisdom. Xi-Wang-Mu, the healer. Sekhmet the powerful. And, ENlil lord of the sky and ENki lord of the plains.”

  “Good. But there is a multitude of other attributes, most proclaiming terrible things.”

  A brief silence passes. Persephone inquiries about Osiris, who has disappeared from the compound. Thoughts of running off on another adventure slip into the conversation. It ends when Samiri enters the rotunda.

  “Forgive my intrusion, Highness,” Samiri says with a bow, dropping lower than usual for Thoth’s benefit. “The Queen demands your presence at dinner.”

  Persephone huffs, hugs her cousin, then hurries off to, as she puts it – ‘The den of cackling hens.’

  “My Lord, it is an honor to once more be in your presence,” Samiri says.

  “It has been some time since we last spoke. I hear rumors, Samiri. Talk of secret undertakings amongst the Watchers.”

  “This is but part of a concern. I seek humble counsel.” Samiri sits at Thoth’s insistence. He lowers his voice to a whisper. “I am of the opinion the Watcher’s counsel can no longer be trusted. There are breaks in the ranks – separatists and loyalists-”

  “Which one are you?” Thoth interrupts.

  “I am neither, my Prince. I serve the Princess.”

  “I hear good things about you, Samiri. His Majesty praises you, Princess Persephone complains about you, in good light of course. I will ask her Highness to release you from service to join my order, but I caution you. Serving my order is also serving the Princess by proxy.”

  Samiri struggles to hide joy escaping through his smile. To be at the side of the Keeper-of-Forbidden-Knowledge is the closest he has yet come to see the sacred Amon-I. He knows it will be years before he can achieve his goal – time as it were, is something Samiri is blessed with. “It is a tremendous honor you bestow on me, my Lord.”

  He listens to Thoth ramble on, yet his mind wanders on the impending dilemma Persephone will face. Queen Farah can avoid fulfilling her promise to Prince Vali for so long.

  Dinner at Octavia’s is, as one expects, a lavish affair. Twenty of her closest friends gather with the Royal guests to dine on seafood, a multitude of fowls, exotic meats, exquisite fruit, and lots of wine. Accentuating the experience is an orchestra playing in an adjacent room. Melodies from old Hyperborian masters compete with ‘the den of cackling hens.’.

  “Persephone dear, do stop drinking…have some manners at the table.” Queen Farah scowls at the Princess.

  “Do shut up, mother. I’ll drink as much as I want.”

  Outbursts such as this do not shock Farah. She nods at Peki. The devoted servant knows the request all too well. He approaches his charge with determination to save her dignity; it's tumbling faster than the wine spilling on her gown.

  “My Peki,” Persephone says with a drunken smile. “Or it should be our beloved Peki.”

  “Your Highness, it may be time to retire,” the old man says in his soft yet firm way.

  “No!” she bursts out for all to take notice. “Mother,
I demand you grant Peki his freedom.”

  Embarrassment flushes on Farah’s face. “This is not the time or place… stop it!”

  “Very well. Persephone waves her hand around as if providing a blessing. “You are now free, my loyal servant.”

  Peki ignores the gesture, in favor of removing her from vile glares coming their way.

  “Pay her no mind Farah…it’s a phase,” Octavia says. She sees the tension on the Queen’s face. Her clenched teeth and twitching eyelids.

  “I’ve had enough of it. She has been a petulant child all her life.”

  Octavia, in her nonchalant way, jokes, “Time to marry her off then.” Laughter erupts from the table.

  Farah slumps into a realization that she may very well see the departure of her daughter all too soon. “Excuse me,” she announces as she leaves her seat.

  Farah marches off to the exit doors. To her right is a hallway leading to the bedchambers. Hesitation overcomes her. She turns left to traverse a long passageway. She does not notice a passerby stop to observe her. A slim man, or youth, dressed in dark clothing. The figure immediately throws over his hood as he skirts around corners at the far end of the hallway.

  After several flights of stairs, she stops at a grand garden illuminated by hovering lighting pods. She makes her way through a labyrinth of hedges to find a quiet spot. Satisfied she is alone; she opens a palm-sized device.

  The figure following her stops a safe distance away, behind a shrub.

  “Come on you swine,” Farah says after touching a button. She crouches on the ground.

  Prince Vali’s face appears in the air above her pad. The arrogant smile is aggravating her. “Call it off, Vali!”

  Behind the shrub, Osiris removes his hood. He strains to hear the Queen’s conversation. A barrage of rain from sprinklers shower down on him. Better leave this alone, he advises himself before retreating.

  “You know that tune you used to hum to my betrothed?” Vali asks. “I’ll bet you don’t know its origins.”

  “I do not have time for this you snake. She will not be yours.”

  “Humor me, then decide,” Vali says.

  Farah continues to stare at the image with rage building up.

  Vali ignores her. “Long ago in the mountains of Aryavan, there was a kind maiden who lived atop a waterfall – the highest in all the land. She fell in love with a handsome stranger, had two beautiful children, and lived a happy life.

  “One day, her husband fell ill after temple, causing fear to overcome the woman. She sought help from the village. A kind priestess would lend aid. In exchange, the priestess demanded a small sacrifice – the family’s one milking cow, their only source of income. The woman agreed. The husband was cured, yet the woman did not give what was promised.

  “Facing potential hardship, she offered other forms of payment in her desperate attempt to avoid the dreaded sacrifice. With a grandmother’s smile, the priestess promised ruin. Months passed before the husband collapsed and died.

  “The woman worked twice as hard. She made a trip to another village to trade, returning at the brink of collapse from hunger. Left in the brick oven was a scrumptious meat pie, delicious, savory. She devoured a portion, saving a serving for the children. Where are the children?

  “She rushed in to check on the babes. ‘They’re not there! Where are they?’ In a fit, the woman runs outside, screaming their names. She falls to her knees in front of the milking cow with tears pouring out tired eyes. She bites down with rage. Something troubles her. Caught between her teeth was a thin membrane with an unusual texture.

  “She picked the object from her teeth. It was a slice of eyeball, with a hint of brown, like her daughter’s gaze. Struck with horror, the woman rushed to the waterfall’s edge. In a wail of regret, she hurled her body into the misty abyss. Moments too late, a neighbor reaches the water’s edge to see the woman’s body disappear. She screamed, ‘Your children are safe…your children are safe!’ The next day the priestess came, collected the children and the milking cow.” Vali sighs deeply.

  “Are you threatening me, Vali?”

  “No, my Queen…just relaying to you, the Ballad of Persephone.”

  Farah’s rage gives way to fear. A tear leaves her cheek and falls on the smiling hologram.

  “The moral of this tale, dear Queen is to never, ever upset the order of things already in motion. Keep your promise.” The image disappears.

  Two hours before midnight brings silence throughout Octavia’s residence. Everyone is asleep after the post-dinner festivities. Persephone is bundled up under a thin blanket in her comfortable bedchamber. Her guttural snores drown out crackling from the fireplace. Suddenly, a ripe tomato hits the window. It takes a barrage of vegetable assault before the Princess wakes.

  Annoyed at the loud splattering sound, Persephone slips out of bed, stumbling by the wall to catch a glimpse of the perpetrator. She huffs at the sight of Prince Osiris hurling leafy projectiles. He points to her balcony. She scowls as she lies to herself, He is getting on my last nerve.

  Cold wind blasts the Princess when she opens the double-doors. She is startled when Osiris appears rising in the air – a hum from the hover-bike becomes noticeable when it lifts into view.

  “What are you doing here?” she snaps.

  “I’m going into town…are you coming?” he asks in an arrogant tone. “And fix yourself, you look a mess.”

  “Why, you insolent shit…if you think I’m going anywhere with you in the middle of the night…”

  “Alright. Stay here with a bunch of old hags or come with me on a small errand.” He fusses with his jacket, ignoring Persephone’s false look of outrage.

  Her face sours. “I’ll be right back.”

  Chapter 8: A Crack in the Chain of Antiquity

  Corinth is a lively place at night. All manner of establishments are open for business up until sunrise. During the daytime citizens carry on with routines, adhering to strict codes of behavior. At night, the more unscrupulous activities take place under cover of darkness. This city is a tourist haven, and as such it caters to all sorts of depraved inclinations.

  Nighttime travel on the highway on hover-bike is exhilarating. Two-miles of open road is devoid of traffic, encouraging Osiris to push the sleek two-seater beyond posted speed limits. Persephone holds on for dear life. Defying her mother’s strict rules is more in-line with the Princess’ behavior; she never broke these rules, however, while outside the protective borders of Hyperboria.

  The Royals arrive at a packed parking lot in one of the city’s seediest corners. A three-level building rumbles with pounding bass echoing beyond the walls. The door opens and the music reverberates out into the street. A large bouncer holds a miserable looking man by the back of his pants and collar. The bouncer heaves, throwing the man out onto the curb.

  Osiris gestures to the entrance, “Afraid?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Persephone says. She fusses with her hood.

  Osiris smiles at her. “You’ll be fine, no one will recognize us.”

  “What sort of errand needs attention in this place?”

  “I thought Thia would’ve had her claws in you by now.”

  “Well, your Thia can kiss my ass. And what is up with her hair?”

  They chuckle, walking up a short flight of stairs. The doorman looks at their youthful appearance, issuing a judgmental grunt before allowing entry.

  Plumes of smoke rise freely in the air. Sounds of revelry compete with loud music. Grumbling from angry couples in a corner goes unnoticed. Waitresses deliver beverages to thirsty patrons in dingy booths. A door at the far end opens.

  The doorman leans on a large antique wine case. His snarling smile shows off one row of gold-plated teeth. He stands tall dressed in casual attire. A silk shirt hugs a generous belly. Bulging out on his waistband, a large pistol promises a careless accident. He makes sure it’s noticed.

  Persephone and Osiris pretend to be juvenile delinquents
from the town in search of sordid ‘back-room’ affairs. Osiris wraps his arm around Persephone’s waist, letting his palm caress her butt. The doorman’s face lights up. “Enter if you dare,” his mouth of gold purrs.

  Unafraid, they enter a dim passageway to an unseen section. Ominous stairs to a basement level creak from years of rotting. At the bottom, there is a faint glow of yellow light and noise. A card game it sounds like.

  Osiris gets settled at one of the eight poker tables.

  Persephone sticks by his side, showing a hint of nervousness when prompted to join a game. Osiris encourages her to sit. She scans the room for signs of trouble brewing.