She was still catching her breath when cold, spongy fingers grabbed her ankle, pulling her off balance. She swung her legs around wildly, trying to kick her attacker, but it was no use. With a mighty tug, they dragged Persephone beneath the water.

More hands grabbed at her, pulling at her hair, clawing at her arms. She flailed, kicking and scratching at the bodies surrounding her. The flesh of the dead was cold and clammy, their skin disturbingly soft as she fought off their advances.

Bubbles escaped from her nose as she fought to stay conscious whilst not accidentally ingesting the water. Beneath the surface, it was so dark that she couldn’t tell which way lay the pier or the riverbank. Dead fingers trailed down the side of her face, and it took all her discipline not to open her mouth and invite water into her lungs.

One of the dead pressed their lipless mouth to her cheek in the parody of a kiss. Persephone flinched away, but there were more hands on her, tearing at her chiton, pulling free the jewels at her neck and shoulders. Cold, bony fingers ran over her newly exposed skin, and she had to grind her teeth together to stop herself from trying to scream.

She fumbled at her waist for her dagger, but even if it was there, she couldn’t quite reach it due to the floating folds of fabric obscuring her belt. She thrashed, the water churning to white froth around her. Her lungs burned, and her struggles grew more faint. Above, vague lights glimmered, but reaching the surface now seemed like an impossible dream. Tiny bubbles escaped from her lips as her mind screamed at her. She had to breathe.

The dead ran their fingers through her hair, but she could hardly feel them. Persephone kicked weakly, but the surface seemed so far away. It was easier to sink deeper into the water and accept her fate. This marsh would be her grave.

7

NOT YET WED

Strong arms grabbed hold of Persephone and pulled her out of the river. As soon as her head broke the surface, she coughed up the mouthful of water she’d been trying so hard not to swallow. Her first breath of fresh air almost made her delirious.

Hades carried her to the shore and laid her down on the grass. Persephone clung to her, shivering, her teeth clicking as they chattered. Her sodden chiton hung precariously from her left shoulder, the right side torn loose by the hands of the dead.

Hades’ arms remained around her, banishing the chill of the river. Persephone’s teeth ceased their chattering, and she slowly relaxed to the point where she could close her eyes and not see the faces of the dead swimming before her.