As before, it started low in her stomach, and she fed it, tortured by thoughts of Hades.

Where are you warm?

“Everywhere,” she whispered, and imagined all that warmth in her hands, the energy growing so bright she could barely look at it, like a sun in the palm of her hands, or a dying star.

Open your eyes, Persephone. She swore his breath caressed her skin.

She did, and the shimmering image of a pomegranate sat between her hands. She took a deep, deliberate breath, guiding her hands to the earth, and as she did, pieces of rotting flesh rose from the ground and gathered. Before long, the grove smelled of fresh, ripe fruit, and several whole, red pomegranates lay at her feet.

When she looked at Hecate, the goddess was clearly surprised.

“Very good, my love,” she said.

Persephone would have smiled, but she found that her success at reconstructing the pomegranate was overshadowed by an acute sadness. It made the world feel heavy and her body feel sluggish. She blinked rapidly, hoping to keep her tears at bay.

She wasn’t sure if Hecate could sense her turmoil, but the goddess was quick to distract her.

“Come, I will teach you to make poisons as promised.”

The two returned to her cottage, and Persephone sat beside Hecate, who had picked and bound several varieties of plants.

“What is all this?”

“The usual. Hemlock, daphne, deadly nightshade, death cap, angel’s trumpet, curare.”

The goddess explained which parts of each plant were deadly, and how much it would take of each to kill a target. She also seemed to delight in explaining how the plant would kill.

“What would poison do to a god?” Persephone asked.

A ghost of a smile touched the goddess’s lips.

“Thinking of poisoning Apollo?”

Persephone could feel her cheeks redden. “N-no!”

Hecate laughed quietly. “Do not feel guilty for contemplating murder, my dear, most gods have done far worse.”

Persephone knew that was true.

“Poison would likely have little impact on Apollo, except to make him very sick, which would be just as fun. Talk about no consequences.”

Persephone laughed, and filed that bit of information away for later.

They spent a while crushing leaves and oils into powerful concoctions until Persephone’s hands hurt from using the mortar and pestle and her eyes stung from the potency of the plants. At one point, she started to rub her eyes, when Hecate’s hand clamped down on her wrist.

Persephone yelped, mostly from surprise. She didn’t know Hecate could move that fast.

“Don’t.”

Hecate led Persephone to a basin. She washed her hands and waited for Hecate to finish up before they made their way to the Asphodel Fields.