She had begun to wonder if she’d gone mad with delusions of grandeur when the door exploded outward, away from her, its wooden frame collapsing and taking a few of the bricks down with it. Persephone jerked back and covered her eyes with her arms, then slowly lowered them, blinking in the faint glow of torchlight that now flooded her cell.

The light should have been brighter. It took her a few moments to realize it was being blocked by an enormous beast, large enough almost to fill the entire space in the cellar. Its scales glittered blue and silver, and it watched her with two slitted, yellow eyes. The ridge above its brow bone was bleeding, no doubt from the shrapnel of the exploding door.

The door might have formed part of her cage, but it had also been her protection against this creature. How fitting that Persephone could prove to be the source of her own destruction—not Hades and not Demeter.

“Easy,” she said, both hands extended in what she hoped was a placating manner. “You’re here to protect me. From intruders.” She wondered where her mother had found such a beast and how she could have possibly compelled it to serve in such confined quarters.

The drakon sniffed the air, then slithered forward, its nails clicking on the stone floor. It worked half its length into her cell, completely blocking the doorway and most of the light. Behind it, she heard the ominous rustling of its tail sweeping the cellar floor.

Persephone slowly moved sideways, and it turned its head to follow her movements. Several horns protruded from its rigid bone plate, their tips looking wickedly sharp.

Too nervous to take her eyes from the drakon, Persephone felt around on the floor with her foot until she bumped into a discarded waterskin. She slowly crouched, watching the creature the whole time, and picked it up.

Some drakons had poorer night vision than others; she did not know enough about this one to tell, but she hoped it was diurnal. She threw the waterskin to the other side of the room, where it bounced against the wall with an audible smack.

The drakon swiveled its head toward the noise, and Persephone ran toward it, hoping to leap through the small gap in the doorway between the drakon’s body and the ceiling.

The beast struck Persephone with its front leg, sending her flying across the room. She struck the far wall and groaned, falling to the floor. The drakon advanced, its claws gouging marks in the stone. She raised her head to see its jaws yawning open, exposing its muscular tongue and the red lining of its mouth.

Persephone rolled to the side as fire spurted from the drakon’s mouth, toasting the spot where she’d just been. The hem of her chiton caught alight, and she swatted at it frantically whilst climbing to her feet.