Persephone was quiet. She hadn’t even considered that her mother might be involved in this, but now that Hecate had said something, she couldn’t believe it hadn’t been her first thought.

After a moment, she put her head in her hands.

“I don’t understand why he didn’t tell me.”

“The first rule of men, Persephone, is that they’re all idiots.”

She started to protest, but Hecate interrupted her.

“And don’t start thinking that just because Hades is ancient and wise in other matters of life means he’s above idiocy. He’s not. Trust me. I have existed alongside him to see it all.”

“He is an idiot,” she agreed. “But…so am I.”

Hecate’s eyes softened. “You are.”

The two shared a laugh.

“Are you going to turn me into a polecat?” Persephone asked, and though she meant it as a joke, she felt tears prick her eyes.

The goddess smiled. “No, dear, I already have one.”

Persephone wiped at her face fiercely. “Oh, Hecate. What do I do? I hurt Hades. I didn’t think…well, I didn’t think at all. I was so—”

“Hurt,” Hecate said. “Hades hurt you, too. You hurt each other. The answer is simple. You apologize.”

“It doesn’t seem like enough.”

“It is enough. It’s enough because you love each other.”

Persephone took a breath. Apologize. She could do that.

“Okay,” she said, standing. “Where is he?”

Hecate rose from her seat.

“Just wait a little longer. You’ll want him angry for when Apollo arrives. Now, let’s channel some of this pain into a lesson.”

The two made their way to one of Hades’ many orchards. She was still learning the Underworld and its vast landscape, but one of the things she’d discovered is that Hades had a network of vegetation—grapes, olives, figs, dates, and pomegranates. The Goddess of Magic chose a clearing where a particularly large pomegranate tree had grown. Its emerald leaves contrasted darkly with the crimson fruit hanging heavy from its branches.

For a moment, Persephone was enchanted by the clearing.

And then came the bees.

“Where the hell did these come from?” Persephone asked, dodging another winged demon as it charged for her face. These were not nice bees.

“I summoned them,” Hecate said cheerily.

“You—what?”

“Using magic under stressful situations is a valuable skill, Persephone.”

“Don’t you think I am under enough stress?”

“In your mind,” she answered. “Good practitioners of magic must learn to work under both mental and physical stress.”

Not today, she wanted to say.

“Well, I am not a good practitioner of magic.”

“If you keep saying that, it will become the truth.”

“It is the truth. You’re the only one who can’t see it. Even Hades knows. He’s only been letting me think I am powerful enough to use magic against him.”

Hecate’s brows came together. “What do you mean?”