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I am Petyr Baelish first of my name. A terrible tragedy has befallen the 7 Kingdoms. While feasting for no particular reason, a piano fell on our beloved Queen Cersei and her children Tommen and Myrcella. During the same feast the Hand of the King Lord Jon Arryn discovered he is allergic to peanuts and expired. Later that night Grand Maester Pycelle had a terrible accident in the kitchen where he was making a sandwich. He slipped and fell head over into the big, man-sized kettle full of boiling oil. Lord Varys and Lord Renly also met with terrible accidents. While taking a leisurely stroll on the beach together in the moonlight a Kraken suddenly emerged, according to the old drunk, homeless guy whom I trust completely in this matter, and hacked both men to ribbons with its razor-sharp tentacles. Weird I know. But the eyewitness saw it himself. Meanwhile, King Robert was on a hunt and was killed when a tree he was pissing against fell on him. Noble prince Joffrey also had an accident when he accidentally shot himself 5 times with a crossbow. The King’s brother, Stannis Baratheon, next in line for the throne, drowned when he went for a swim in full armor. He did manage to get out 50 miles from Dragon Stone. What a strong swimmer he was. In the West, Lord Tywin Lannister died from grief when he learned of the tragedy which had befallen his only daughter and his grandchildren. In desperation, he slung himself off the battlements of Casterly Rock by way of trebuchet. So did his brother Kevan and son Tyrion. Jaime Lannister, the Kingslayer, however, was made from sterner stuff. But tragedy befell him as well when he was captured by outlaws who cut off both his hands and feet and let him bleed out while he was heading back to Kings Landing. In the Reach Lord Mace Tyrell, who has always been a loyal friend of the Crown, choked on a cattle thigh bone which he for some reason tried to swallow. Flailing his arms wildly he accidentally hit the Lady Olenna in the head caving in her skull. Lady Lysa of the Vale of Arryn proposed me to take over the duties of the King, as acting Hand, until the time that a worthy successor could be chosen. But tragedy keeps striking. Lord Edmure Tully died from a sudden fish allergy. Prince Doran and his brother Oberyn of Dorne died of gout and syphilis respectively. In the North Lord Eddard Stark, his son Robb and his ward Theon Greyjoy got lost in the Wolfswoods and have not been seen for months. All the Lords of Westeros have petitioned me, Petyr Baelish, to accept the crown. Since they are too busy with their own affairs. I have humbly accepted. As it turns out Lord Tywin Lannister had a will. In which he transferred ownership of Casterly Rock and the title of Lord to his dearly beloved friend Petyr Baelish. A titan among men whom he trusts more than anyone in this world. This inheritance also includes the mines. And he left me the lands and mines of the Reynes and Tarbecks as well. And he declared the debt the crown owed House Lannister to be fulfilled. What a nice gesture. So here I am. Petyr Baelish. First of my name. King of the Andals, the Roynar and the First Men. Let’s get to work.I have proposed the creation of a Royal Army to the Lords of Westeros. One that would be sworn directly to the Iron Throne. They greeted this plan with enthusiasm since it frees them from the burden to have to raise troops in case of a war. For starters, we will put their number at 50.000 men. 40.000 foot and 10.000 horse. For starters. Their numbers will be expanded later. They were equally enthusiastic about my proposal to increase the size of the Royal Navy from about 240 to 750 ships. Lord Redwyne even went so far as to insist to transfer the 200 Redwyne ships already in service directly to the crown. This will save the Realm time and money. I have then taken steps to make tax collection more efficient. A regular population census every 5 years will help us to get a better idea of just how many people actually live in Westeros. And how many tax collectors we need to hire. The Citadel was kind enough to send several Maesters who specialize in this to Kings Landing to lend a hand in training them. My plans to increase the taxes on the Lords themselves met with greater enthusiasm then even I expected. In exchange, the Lords would no longer be required to aid the crown in times of war. Raising troops has always been a costly affair for them. Since that meant crops might go to waste in the fields which of course would come out of their coffers. So a property tax from the Lords to the crown would free them of this obligation and help the crown to professionalize the Royal Army. I really thought they would protest more. Only a handful of the Lords were against the proposal. Lord Roose Bolton executed his bastard son Ramsey and then beheaded himself in protest. Leaving lands and castle to a lady who is in the employ of one of my fine and discreet establishments here in Kings Landing. (bring 3 or more friends and pay 3 dragons less) Same with Lord Walder Frey who locked all his relatives and potential heirs into the southern Tower of the Twins and burned it to the ground with him inside with them. He reportedly was screaming something like taxes are murder. But he did bequeath his lands and the rest of his castle to another Lady in my employ. So strange. In the Reach, as it turns out, Lord Mace Tyrell also had a will drawn up in which he orders his heir Willas Tyrell to pay off the Iron Bank and the faith. So House Tyrell will foot the crown’s bill to the sum of about 3 million gold dragons. How considerate of our late friend. The Realm is in your debt. Or would be if you were still alive. Catelyn, my dearest Catelyn. If only you were younger. But the King must have an heir. So I need a younger, more fertile wife. My dearest Catelyn. You have a daughter, don’t you? What was her name again? Dancer….Prancer….No… Oh, it was Sansa! What a lovely name! Has she bled yet? Oh well. She will sooner or later. My darling Catelyn. Allow me, your King, to lighten your burden by taking your daughter off your hands and care for her so you can spend more energy on your remaining 3 children. Your daughter won’t find a better match than the King. We will be wed in a year or 2.Now that we have Crown, Coin and Cunt let’s put it to good use. Gold is flowing from the Westerlands into our Little Bank of Westeros in Kings Landing. I’m sending engineers, woodworkers, teachers, expert farmers, metal workers and prospectors to the North. They will look for metals in the northern mountains and in the mountains and hills where the White Knife splits in two. The expert farmers will go about looking at which crops are best suited to the North’s soil and climate. I think winter vegetables are our best bet to increase soil yield. Like Onions and Shallots. Garlic. Beans. Turnips. Peas. Carrots. And I’m sure they’ll find more, The North has so much undeveloped land. That ‘s going to change. The North also has a LOT of timber. And it’s going to have more. I will send a messenger to House Forester. They seem to know a thing or two about forest management. We don’t want the North to run out of timber any time soon. I want them to plant forests near to White Harbor. Widows Watch. Old Castle. In parts of the Rills too. There are plenty of rivers made to build sawmills on. Perfect for our burgeoning shipbuilding industry. The woodworkers will teach the northerners to well… work wood. Adding further to its value. Everybody needs doors. Window frames. Furniture. Wooden shoes. Farming equipment. And the list goes on. The North and the Stormlands are the biggest sources of timber in the 7 kingdoms. Let’s use them. LF “The North needs to invest more in sheep. The Realm needs more wool. Other regions like the Reach are doing the same.” LF “Aren’t they Lord Willas?” Willas “Yes, my King….we are raising sheep where ever we can….gulp…Quickly Baldrick. Get us some more sheep….” LF “Are you alright with this Catelyn?” Catelyn “Oh yes Peyr….I mean your Grace… that sounds nice. You are always so good to me and Lysa…” LF “About Lysa….I’m afraid tragedy struck us once again. A short while after hearing of Lord Walder Frey’s demise she flung herself out of the Moon Door…I’m very sorry…. Apparently, she was quite fond of Lord Walder with hopes that he may fill the hole in her heart after Lord Arryn’s demise.”Catelyn “….WWWEEEEEAAAAAAAEEEEEHHHHHHHHH……..” LF “I will assume the responsibility for Lord Robin from here on out. I think Highgarden will be a good place for young Robin to be fostered at. Won’t it Lord Willas?” Willas “…ye..yyyes….your Grace…. a very good place…we’re looking forward to his arrival.” LF “Make sure he grows up right and strong. Knowing that he owes his thanks and allegiance to the crown. How is that lame leg of yours My Lord? How in Sevens names did you manage to hit yourself 20 times with a smiths hammer in the knee?” Willas “Ooooh…oh….it’s fine my King. Hardly feel it at all anymore….hahaha… I’m just clumsy is all….hahaha…”On with the rest of my plan. The mountainous regions of the North are bound to have metals in them. Gold, silver, copper, tin or iron. Whatever metals they may contain. We need to mine it and then work it. We all need pots and pans. Bowls to eat out of. Tools to work the metal and the wood. Hammers. Nails. Saws. Axes. Cutlery. I’m sure the North will become very busy before long. LF “Lord Manderly!” Mandery “Yes my King?” LF “I need you to expand your port facilities to accommodate the increase in traffic that is bound to happen. More shipyards. More warehouses. Additional custom officers. Also, check if you can increase brewing in your city. I hear you have some mighty fine ales and beers. The Little Bank of Westeros will loan you the coin needed.” Manderly “Wonderfull your Grace! We’ll get right to work!” Note to self. Send prospectors out into the West as well. It’s not possible that gold and silver are the only metals the Westerlands have. Maester “My King. My lady. A raven came with some tragic news. Lady Barbrey Dustin of Barrowton has had an accident! She was out riding and her horse tripped over a black pig running out of a dung heap throwing her and breaking her neck.” Catelyn “ Dark Wings. Dark Words.” LF “Such a tragedy! What about the inheritance? Who gets the Barrowlands now?” Maester “I was looking into that my King. It seems she left a will granting the title and lands to a lady who stayed with her a while back. Lady Rose?” LF “I know Rose. She used to work for me in Kings Landing but is of the North. A very good choice. Well, I better get back south. So much still to do!”Now it’s time to head to the Riverlands. After the tragic deaths of Hoster and Edmure Tully they named me Lord Paramount of the Trident. But that can’t be sadly. I’m the King. Luckily I have found a solution. I have granted myself Harrenhal as my seat after the Lady Whent drowned while swimming in the Gods Eye. While Riverrun castle, its lands, and incomes and the title of Lord Paramount of the Trident were granted to a minor noble newly ennobled for loyal services to the crown. The Lord of this newly created house is named Bronn of House Blackheart. He knows what to do to maximize the crown’s and his own incomes. Tax collection will be stricter than before. Lord Mallister agreed to dig a canal to his seat from the Blue Fork which will increase trade and will allow him to found the port city of Port Mallister. I have ordered the demolition of Harrenhal. It’s too big. Takes up to much of some of the best farmland in the Riverlands. It will be replaced with Castle Baelish. I will have a community set up on the land previously occupied by that monstrosity. Baelish Harbor on the Gods Eye will allow me to export the produce quickly to Kings Landing to be sold off. Maidenpool needs to grow. I have issued a city charter for it. It will become the Riverlands main export hub on the Narrow Sea. That should flush some more gold into Lord Blackheart’s and the crown’s coffers as well.The Reach. Aaawww….a farmers dream. So fertile. So rich. Almost like the Westerlands except their gold is golden grains. Which has the added advantage to grow back year after year. Lord Willas has agreed that the Reach as a whole should increase the contribution to the crown. they can afford it. In fact, he insisted. Lord Redwyne demanded his fleet should be part of the new Royal Navy to save the crown the expense of having to build 200 new warships. Very generous. His twin sons Hobber and Slobber are recovering well from their seafood poisoning. The Mander river should be connected to the Blackwater Rush. Lord Willas thought that was a wonderful idea and ordered work to begin immediately on the Mander -Blackwater canal. He even demanded the honor to foot the bill. He also suggested having two more canals dug to connect the Mander and the Honeywine. Making it possible to travel all the way from Kings Landing to Highgarden and Oldtown by boat. The second canal would link the Blueburn with the Wendwater in the Stormlands. Now goods from the Stormlands can be floated all the way to Oldtown by boat and vice versa. This means the Reach needs more customs officers to collect the Crown’s tariffs on these new waterways. Thank you Lord Willas. There will be some new way stops build along the road where the boats and the crews can stop and rest. Tax collection officers and Urban Crown officers will be there to ensure all business conducted there is above board and the King’s Law is obeyed. And that taxes are paid. The Stormlands will be another good source of timber. Let’s have some sawmills set up on the Wentwater and a port constructed next to Storms End. From here it’s just a short trip to Tyrosh and Myr. Tyrosh and Myr always need lumber for their ships. The Stormlands will fill that need. In the West we should look into having the Blackwater Rush linked up with Red Fork. To shorten the travel time between my belongings in Casterly Rock and Kings Landing. And to provide another way for Lannisport goods to reach Kings Landing more swiftly. The Lannisters of Lannisport are wildly enthusiastic about this plan and have immediately asked for a loan from the Little Bank to finance this. They also demanded the honor of transferring the assets of the Lannisport fleet to the Crown. Some 50 warships. This gives the Crown even more strength at sea. Highgarden has humbly requested permission to add another 50 vessels to our Western fleet based in the shield isles. I graciously granted them their request. I believe it would be a good plan to formalize the training of officers for our navy and our Royal Army. For this, I will create a Naval and an Army Academy here in Kings Landing. That way second and third and so on sons will have another career option besides becoming a household knight in their siblings' castles. On to Dorne. Umm…well. The Red Mountains might hold metals in them we could use. Let’s set up some mining operations and smelting mills and see. If it’s worth the expense the Little Bank will be happy to extend credits to grow these operations. The rest of Dorne…..let’s plant some trees which do well in heat and see what happens. Princess Arianne was enthusiastic about the idea of Dorne becoming the lemon capital of Westeros. Let’s see if we can set up a glass making industry here. Other than that….meeeh. Dorne is too hot for my taste. The Vale….since Lord Robin is being fostered at Highgarden and Lysa took her own life we need a steward to keep an eye on things until Robin reaches maturity. Harry Hardyng. He’s already called Harry the Heir. Let’s give him the position. Let’s send our new Royal Army into the Vale and deal with them Mountain Clans. If they submit they will be allowed to settle in the North and become part of their burgeoning new economy. If not….well….too bad for them. With the Clans gone, Lord Harry should have an easy time to set up new roads, dig new tunnels to better connect the Vale. Make more land available for agriculture and maybe find new sources of metal in the mountains. The Royal Army will establish a presence in the Vale and in all the other kingdoms to help keep the peace. Eventually, we want 20.000 professional Royal soldiers stationed in every Kingdom. The Royal Navy will have bases in White Harbor. Gull Town. Kings Landing. Dragonstone. Tarth and Sunspear. Also in the Shield isles and Lannisport. In the North, we will create another port town at the mouth of the Last River. Lord Manderly has already agreed to build the 50 ships we will station there. This will increase the size of the Royal Navy to 850. The Reach and Lannisport already contribute 50 ships each. Not counting the former Redwyne fleet. Rule Westeros, Westeros rule the waves. Westerosi never ever ever shall be slaves!LF “Now Sansa my sweetling. Time to get married!” Sansa “Oh yes Petyr my love! I can hardly wait! But wait! I’ve heard rumors about some Targaeryans across the Narrow Sea!” LF “Ah yes. the Beggar King and his sister. They don’t need to worry you, my love. I heard Vyseris was crowned by the Dothraki with a pot of molten gold and his sister went insane after her Dothraki husband died and challenged his Bloodriders to single combat while frothing at the mouth. She was of course slain.” Sansa “That’s good my love. Now let’s pluck the High Septon from the brothel and let's get married!” LF “Woopwoop!”Sansa “Petyr my love. Didn’t you forget something?” LF “What did I forget sweetling?” Sansa “The Iron Islands. I know they are shit-covered rocks. But still.” LF “They contribute sailors to the Royal Navy I believe. And they fish a lot. Sell some Iron. But what else am I suppose to do with them? ” Sansa “You’re right my love. They’re not worth the effort. Let’s have sex.” LF “Uhhuhhuhuhuhuhhuhuhhuhuhuhu….you said sex!”And so it came to pass that I, King Petyr Baelish first of my name, married the love of my life Cately…urmmm Sansa Stark. In time the Realm flourished and the people would come to refer to me as Petyr The Great. A golden age. My wife Sansa and I had a whole gaggle of kids. Who were all as clever as their dad and as pretty as their mommy. I have done good. Now I can rest.

mm.. This is interestingI HAVE TO BE HONEST. I never understood what made Persephone such a big deal. I mean, for a girl who almost destroyed the universe, she seems kind of meh. Sure, she was pretty. She had her mother’s long blond hair and Zeus’s sk-blue eyes. She didn’t have a care in the world. She was sure the whole world had been invented just for her pleasure. I guess when your parents are both gods, you can come to believe that. She loved the outdoors. She spent her days roaming the countryside with her nymph and goddess friends, wading in streams, picking flowers in sunlit meadows, eating fresh fruit right off the tree—heck, I’m just making this up, but I’m guessing that’s what a teenage goddess would have done before smartphones were invented. The thing is, Persephone didn’t have much else going for her. She wasn’t all that bright. She wasn’t brave. She didn’t really have any goals or hobbies (other than the flower-picking thing). She was just kind of there, enjoying life and being a spoiled, sheltered, overprivileged kid. I guess it’s nice work if you can get it, but I didn’t grow up that way, so I don’t have much sympathy for her. Still, Demeter lived for her daughter, and I can’t blame her for being over-protective. Demeter had had enough bad experiences with those sneaky male gods. After all, Persephone had come into the world because of a snake ambush. The kid was lucky she wasn’t hatched from an egg. Of course, since Persephone was declared off-limits, all the male gods noticed her and thought she was incredibly hot. They all wanted to marry her, but they knew Demeter would never allow it. Anytime one of them got close, Demeter appeared out of nowhere with her dragon-drawn chariot and her wicked golden sword. Most of the gods let it go. They decided to find some safer goddess to date. But one god couldn’t get Persephone out of his mind—namely Hades, lord of the Underworld. Perfect match, right? An old gloomy dude who lives in the world’s largest cave filled with the souls of the dead, and he falls in love with a pretty young girl who likes sunlight and flowers and the Great Outdoors. What could possibly go wrong? Hades knew it was hopeless. Persephone was completely out of his league. Besides, Demeter wouldn’t let any god get close to her daughter. No way in Tartarus would she let Hades date her. Hades tried to get over her. But he was lonely down there in the Underworld with no company except the dead. He kept putting on his helmet of invisibility and sneaking up to the mortal world so he could watch Persephone frolic around. In other words, he was the world’s first stalker. I don’t know if you’ve ever had a crush on somebody that bad, but Hades became obsessed. He kept sketches of Persephone in his pocket. He carved her name on his obsidian dining table with a knife—which took a lot of work. He dreamed about her and had imaginary conversations with her where he admitted his love and she confessed that she had always had a thing for creepy older guys who lived in caves full of dead people. Hades got so distracted, he couldn’t even concentrate on his work. His job was to sort out the souls of the dead once they got to the Underworld, but the ghosts started escaping back into the world, or wandering into the wrong spiritual neighborhoods. The traffic jams at the gates of the Underworld got ridiculous. Finally Hades couldn’t stand it anymore. To his credit, he didn’t try to trick Persephone or take her by force—at least not at first. He thought: Well, Demeter will never listen to me. Maybe I should talk to Persephone’s dad. It wasn’t easy for Hades to visit Mount Olympus. He knew he wasn’t welcome there. He certainly didn’t want to ask any favors of his annoying little brother Zeus, but he put on a brave face and marched into the Olympian throne room. He happened to catch Zeus in a good mood. The lord of the skies had just finished all his godly work for the week—scheduling the clouds, organizing the winds, and doing whatever else a sky god has to do. Now he was sitting back, drinking some nectar, and enjoying the gorgeous day. He was daydreaming about another beautiful lady he was intent on marrying, namely Hera; so when Hades came to see him, Zeus had a faraway smile on his face. “Lord Zeus.” Hades bowed. “Hades!” Zeus cried. “What’s up, man? Long time no see!” Hades was tempted to remind Zeus that it was “long time, no see” because Zeus had told him he wasn’t welcome on Mount Olympus; but he decided he’d better not mention that. “Uh, actually…” Hades tugged nervously at his black robes. “I need some advice. About a woman.” Zeus grinned. “You’ve come to the right place. The ladies love me!” “Okay…” Hades started to wonder if this was a good idea. “It’s about one particular lady—your daughter, Persephone.” Zeus’s smile wavered. “Say what, now?” Hades had been holding in his feelings for so long, he just broke down. He confessed everything, even the stalkerish stuff. He promised he would make Persephone an excellent husband. He would be devoted and give her everything she wanted, if only Zeus would give him permission to marry her. Zeus stroked his beard. Most days, he would have gotten angry at such a ridiculous request. He would’ve brought out his lightning bolts and sent Hades back to the Underworld with his robes on fire and his hair all spiky and smoking. But today Zeus was in a good mood. He was actually sort of touched that Hades had come to him with this problem and been so honest. He felt sorry for his creepy stalker brother, and he definitely understood how a guy could get obsessed with a woman. Sure, Persephone was his daughter; but Zeus had lots of daughters by lots of different ladies. It wasn’t like Persephone was his special favorite, or anything. He was inclined to be generous and give her away. He drummed his fingers on the arm of his throne. “The problem is Demeter. Uh…that is Demeter’s daughter, right? I forget.” “Yes, my lord,” Hades said. “Her favorite daughter,” Zeus remembered. “The light of her life, whom she never lets out of her sight, et cetera.” “Yes, my lord.” Hades started to feel uncomfortable. “Should I talk to Demeter? Perhaps if you broke the ice and made her promise to listen. Or maybe I should declare my love to Persephone?” “What?” Zeus looked appalled. “Be honest with women? That never works, bro. You’ve got to be strong. Take what you want.” “Uh…really?” “Always works for me,” Zeus said. “I suggest kidnapping. When nobody is looking, capture Persephone and take her back to your crib. Demeter won’t know what happened. By the time she figures it out…too late! Persephone will be yours. You’ll have plenty of time to convince the young lady to stay with you in the Underworld.” Hades was starting to have doubts about Zeus’s wisdom. “Um, you’re sure this is a good idea?” “Totally!” Zeus said. Hades chewed his lip. The whole kidnapping thing seemed a little risky. He wasn’t sure if Persephone would actually like being abducted, but he didn’t know much about women. Maybe Zeus was right. (For the record: NO, HE WASN’T.) “There’s one problem, my lord,” Hades said. “Persephone is never alone. She’s either with Demeter or with some nymph or goddess chaperones. How can I abduct her in secret? Even if I use my invisibility helmet, I can’t turn her invisible or stop her from screaming.” Zeus’s eyes twinkled mischievously. “Leave that to me. Go get your chariot ready.” Zeus waited until Demeter was busy doing some agricultural stuff on the far side of the world—like ripening the barley in Libya, or something. I’m not sure what. Anyway, Persephone was left in the care of her nymph chaperones. Usually that worked out fine, but the nymphs weren’t really cut out to be bodyguards. They could be easily distracted, and so could Persephone. As usual, the girls went out into the meadows. They spent the morning exploring the hills and having splash-fights in the river. After a nice lazy lunch, letting their dresses dry in the sunlight, Persephone decided to go pick some flowers. “Don’t wander too far!” one of the nymphs called. “I won’t,” Persephone promised. She wasn’t worried. The world was her playground! Everyone loved her, and besides, what could possibly go wrong while she was picking flowers in a meadow? The nymphs were sleepy and warm and full from lunch, and so they lay down for a nap. Persephone roamed the hillside until she’d gathered an entire bouquet from the nearest rosebushes. For some reason, the roses didn’t even have thorns. Their intoxicating smell made Persephone giddy. She traipsed a little farther away and spotted a whole field of violets. “Oh, pretty!” She wandered through the violets, picking the best ones and dropping the roses, because they now seemed pale in comparison. Well, you can probably see where this is going, but Persephone was clueless. She didn’t realize Zeus was causing these flowers to grow—making each batch more colorful and fragrant than the last, leading Persephone farther and farther away from her chaperones. So how could Zeus, a sky god, make flowers grow? Dunno. Best guess: he still had some pull with Gaea the Earth Mother, even though she was asleep. I’m thinking Zeus could occasionally summon her power to make things happen on the earth—maybe not huge things, like creating mountains. But making flowers grow? Not a big deal. Persephone wandered from flower patch to flower patch, murmuring, “Ooh, pretty! Ooh, pretty!” as she picked her favorites. Before she realized it, she was miles away from her sleeping nymph friends. She meandered into a secluded valley filled with hyacinths. She was reaching down to pick a beautiful red one when the ground rumbled. A chasm opened at her feet, and four black horses pulling a massive chariot thundered into the sunlight. The driver was dressed in dark flowing robes. He wore iron gloves, with a huge sword at his side and a whip in his hand. His face was covered with an elaborate bronze helmet engraved with images of death and torture. In retrospect, Hades wondered if it was such a good idea to wear his helmet of terror on a first date, but by then it was too late. Persephone screamed and fell backward into the grass. She should have run, but she was in shock. She couldn’t even fathom what was happening. Everything had always revolved around her, gone her way. She couldn’t be in danger. But she was pretty sure she hadn’t wished for a demonic-looking guy in a giant black chariot to come and trample her hyacinths. Truth be told, she’d occasionally had daydreams about some handsome young man sweeping her off her feet. She and the nymphs had spent a lot of time giggling about that. But this was not what she’d envisioned. Hades took off his helm. His complexion was even paler than usual. He had a bad case of helmet-hair. He was sweating and nervous and blinking like he had something in his eyes. “I am Hades,” he said in a squeaky voice. “I love you.” Persephone screamed again, much louder. Not knowing what else to do, Hades grabbed her arm, pulled her into the chariot, and spurred his horses. His dark ride disappeared into the earth. The chasm closed up behind him. The only person who actually saw the kidnapping was the Titan Helios, way up in his chick-magnet sun chariot, because he had a great view and could see pretty much everything. But do you think he got on the phone to Olympus to report a kidnapping? Nope. First, they didn’t have phones. Second, Helios didn’t like to get involved with godly dramas. He was a Titan, after all. He figured he was lucky just to have a job and not get thrown into Tartarus. Also, this kidnapping wasn’t the craziest thing he’d seen while crossing the sky every day. Those gods were always doing wild things. Man, the stories he could tell. Someday he should write a book. So Helios continued on his way. As for the nymphs who were supposed to be watching Persephone, they slept right through the abduction. The only person who heard Persephone screaming was the most unlikely person you could imagine. In a cave on a nearby mountainside, a Titan named Hecate was minding her own business. Hecate was into magic and spooky nighttime crossroads and ghosts. She was sort of the first super-fan of Halloween. Normally she only left her cave after dark, so that day she was sitting inside reading spell books or whatever when she heard a girl screaming. Hecate may have been a dark goddess of magic, but she wasn’t evil. She immediately ran to help. By the time she got to the meadow, the action was over. Hecate’s magic was weak in the daytime. She could tell that the earth had opened and somebody had been snatched up in a chariot and dragged underground, but Hecate had no idea who was the kidnapper and who was the kidnapee. Hecate wasn’t sure what to do. It wasn’t like she could call 911. Since she didn’t know the facts, she decided to go back to her cave and wait until nightfall, when she could cast better spells and hopefully get more information. Meanwhile, the nymphs woke from their nap and went looking for Persephone, but she had literally vanished off the face of the earth. The nymphs were starting to panic by the time Demeter returned and found out her precious daughter was missing. I’m not sure what Demeter did to punish those nymphs, but it could not have been good. Anyway, Demeter was freaked. She wandered around shouting for Persephone until her voice got hoarse. She asked everyone she met if they had seen anything. For nine days Demeter didn’t change her clothes or take a bath. She didn’t eat or sleep. She did nothing but look for Persephone. She must have started searching in the wrong direction, because on the tenth day she finally circled back around and combed the area near Hecate’s cave. Hecate heard Demeter calling for Persephone. Immediately the magic goddess put two and two together. Every night, Hecate had been trying to figure out what the abduction was all about, but her spells weren’t telling her anything. Some strong magic was at work, covering up the kidnapping. Hecate had a feeling a powerful god was behind it—or maybe more than one. Hecate ran down to meet Demeter. She told the grain goddess about the screaming she’d heard, and her belief that some unknown god had kidnapped Persephone. The distraught mom didn’t take the news well. She shrieked so loudly that all the plants within a five-mile radius withered and died. For hundreds of miles in each direction, every ear of corn on the Greek mainland exploded into popcorn. “I will find whoever has taken her!” Demeter wailed. “I will murder him! Then I will murder him again!” At this point, most folks would’ve backed away from the crazy lady, but Hecate felt bad for her. “I’ll help you search tonight,” she told Demeter. “I’ve got torches, and I’m really good at seeing in the dark.” They searched from dusk until dawn but had no luck. Hecate went back to her cave to rest, promising to help again after nightfall, but Demeter couldn’t stop. She stumbled on alone until evening fell and she came to a kingdom called Eleusis. At this point, even the immortal goddess was getting exhausted. She decided to visit the town, maybe rest her feet for a few minutes and mingle with the locals. Perhaps they had seen something or heard some news. Demeter disguised herself as an old mortal woman. She made her way to the town’s central hearth, because that’s where strangers normally went when they wanted to ask the locals for assistance. A crowd had gathered in the square. A lady with fine robes and a golden crown was making some kind of speech. Being an intelligent goddess, Demeter thought: She must be the queen. It turned out Queen Metaneira was there with her family and her household guards, offering sacrifices to the gods in celebration of the birth of her newest son, Demophoon. (Or maybe she was there to apologize to the gods for giving her son such a dumb name.) Anyway, when Demeter walked up, Queen Metaneira was just offering a prayer to Demeter. Even in Demeter’s desperate state of mind, that must’ve been sort of a rush, hearing somebody praying to her when they didn’t know she was in the crowd. If it were me, I’d wait until the queen said, “O great Demeter—” Then I’d jump out with a bunch of explosions and fireworks and say, “YOU CALLED?” Probably a good thing nobody has made me a god. At any rate, Demeter figured this was a good omen. She waited for the queen to finish blessing her new baby, who was very cute. As the crowd broke up, Demeter made her way toward the queen; but Metaneira noticed her first. “Old woman!” called the queen. Demeter blinked. She looked around, wondering who Metaneira was talking to. Then she remembered she was in disguise. “Oh, right! Yes, my queen!” Demeter said in her best old-lady voice. The queen studied Demeter’s face and her ragged clothes. Even in disguise, Demeter must have looked weary. After ten days, she didn’t smell nearly as jasmine sweet as usual. “I do not know you,” the queen decided. Her family and retainers gathered around. Demeter wondered if she was going to have to turn into a hundred-foot-tall grain monster and scare them away, but the queen only smiled. “Welcome to Eleusis! We always greet strangers, because you never know when one of them might be a god in disguise, eh?” The queen’s guards chuckled. They were probably thinking: Yeah, right. This old lady a goddess. Demeter bowed. “Very wise, my queen. Very wise indeed.” “Do you need a place to stay?” the queen asked. “Do you require food? How may we help you?” Wow, Demeter thought. She’s serious. After days of anxiety, running frantically around Greece looking for her daughter, Demeter was dumbstruck to receive such kindness. These puny mortals didn’t know her from any ordinary beggar—yet the queen herself took time to be nice to her, nicer in fact than most of Demeter’s fellow gods would have been. Demeter felt so tired and emotionally spent that she burst into tears. “My daughter,” she sobbed. “My daughter has been stolen from me.” The queen gasped. “What? This is an outrage!” A handsome young man stepped forward and took Demeter’s hands. “Old woman, I am Triptolemus, the firstborn son of the queen. I pledge that I will help you find your daughter, however I can!” Queen Metaneira nodded in agreement. “But come, dear guest. You are clearly exhausted. It won’t help your daughter if you kill yourself with weariness and hunger while trying to find her. Please stay in my palace tonight. Tell us your story. Rest and eat. In the morning, we will decide how best to help you.” Demeter wanted to decline. She wanted to keep going. Since she was immortal, she obviously wasn’t in danger of dying. But she was tired. These people were nice. And after ten days on the road, her filthy clothes were starting to sprout types of mold and fungus even the plant goddess didn’t recognize. She thanked the queen and accepted her hospitality. After taking a nice hot bath and putting on some new clothes, Demeter felt much better. She joined the royal family for dinner and told them of her troubles, though she left out some minor details, such as being a goddess. She explained that her daughter had disappeared while on a day trip in the meadow with her friends. A woman who lived nearby had heard screaming, so it was clear her daughter had been kidnapped, but Demeter had no idea who had taken her or where she might be. The royal family brainstormed some helpful suggestions: offering a reward, putting Persephone’s face on milk cartons, stapling MISSING posters around town. Finally Triptolemus had the winning idea. “I will send riders in all four directions,” he said. “We will gather news and spread word of this abduction. Stay with us and rest a few days, honored guest. I know you are anxious, but this is the quickest way to search the countryside. When my riders return, we will know more.” Again, Demeter wanted to protest. She was worried sick about her daughter, but she couldn’t think of a better idea, and she was grateful for this family’s hospitality. Also, she could use a few days’ rest. Since her initial panic after the abduction, Demeter’s mood had started to shift to cold determination. In her heart, she knew Persephone was still out there—captured, but unharmed. Her motherly instincts told her so. No matter how long it took, Demeter would find her. And when she got her hands on the kidnapper…oh, her vengeance would be terrible. She would cover him in fertilizer, cause barley to sprout from all his pores, and laugh at his terrified screams as he transformed into the world’s largest Chia Pet. Demeter smiled at Prince Triptolemus. “Thank you for your kindness. I accept your offer.” “Excellent!” “Goo,” said the newborn child Demophoon, gurgling contentedly in the queen’s arms. Demeter gazed at the baby boy. Her heart filled with warmth and nostalgia. It seemed like just last century Persephone had been that small! “Let me repay your kindness,” Demeter told the queen. “I’m an excellent nursemaid, and I know what it’s like being a new mom. You could use some sleep! Let me take care of your baby tonight. I promise to keep him safe. I’ll bless him with special charms against evil so he’ll grow up to be a strong, handsome hero!” I’ve never been a mom, but I think I’d be pretty suspicious if some old lady off the street offered to watch my baby for the night. As you can probably tell, though, Queen Metaneira was a kindhearted, trusting person. She felt terrible for this old woman who had just lost her daughter. Also, it was true that Metaneira hadn’t been sleeping much since the baby came along. “I would be honored,” the queen said, handing Demophoon to Demeter. That night, the goddess rocked the baby by the fire. She sang him nursery songs from Mount Olympus, like “The Itsy-Bitsy Satyr” and “I’m a Little Cyclops.” She fed Demophoon nectar, the drink of the gods, mixed with his regular milk. She whispered powerful blessings to keep him safe. I will make you immortal, little one, Demeter thought. It’s the least I can do for your kind mother. I will make you so strong no one will ever abduct you the way my poor daughter was abducted. When the child dozed off, Demeter placed him in the blazing fireplace. You’re probably thinking: Ah! She roasted the little dude? No, it’s cool. The kid was fine. Demeter’s magic protected him, so the flames only felt warm and pleasant. As Demophoon slept, the fire began burning away his mortal essence, starting the process that would turn him into a god. In the morning, Queen Metaneira couldn’t believe how much her baby had grown. He’d put on several pounds overnight. His eyes were brighter and his grip was stronger. “What did you feed him?” the queen asked in amazement. Demeter chuckled. “Oh, nothing special, but I did promise to look out for him. He’s going to be a fine young man!” At breakfast, Triptolemus announced that his riders had already left. He expected news in the next day or two. Demeter was anxious. She was half-tempted to keep traveling on her own, but she agreed to wait for the riders to return. That night, Demeter again took charge of the baby Demophoon. She fed him more ambrosia and laid him down to sleep in fire. In the morning, she was pleased to see that he was immortalizing nicely. “One more night ought to do it,” she decided. When she gave the child back to the queen at breakfast, Metaneira wasn’t so thrilled. Her boy suddenly looked like a four-month-old rather than a newborn. She wondered what kind of magic Demeter was using, and whether it had passed the safety test for babies. Maybe the old lady was slipping some kind of growth hormone into Demophoon’s milk. In a few more days, the kid might have six-pack abs and hairy armpits. Still, the queen was too polite to yell at her guest or throw accusations with no proof. She kept her doubts to herself. Secretly she hoped the riders would come back today, and the old lady would be on her way. Unfortunately, the riders didn’t return. “I’m sure they’ll be back in the morning,” Triptolemus promised. “Then we should have more information.” Demeter agreed to stay one more night. This time, when dinner was finished, she took the baby from the queen without even asking, just assuming it was okay. Metaneira’s heart hammered in her rib cage. She watched Demeter carry Demophoon back to her guest room, and the queen tried to convince herself everything was fine. The old lady was harmless. She would not turn her newborn son into a ’roid-raging monster overnight. But the queen couldn’t sleep. She worried that she was going to miss her baby’s entire childhood. She would wake up in the morning and see this big bulky three-year-old with facial hair running toward her, shouting in a deep voice, “Hey, Mom! What up?” Finally Metaneira couldn’t stand it anymore. She crept down the hall to Demeter’s room to check on the baby. The bedroom door was open just a crack. Firelight glowed at the sill. Metaneira heard the old woman singing a lullaby inside, but the baby wasn’t making a sound. Hopefully that was good. He was sleeping peacefully. But what if he was in danger? Without knocking, she opened the door…then screamed at the top of her lungs. The old lady was sitting calmly in a rocking chair, watching baby Demophoon burn in the fire! Metaneira charged to the fireplace. She snatched the baby out of the flames, heedless of how much it burned her hands and arms. The baby started wailing, unhappy about waking up from a nice warm nap. Metaneira wheeled on Demeter, ready to chew her face off, but the old lady yelled at her first. “What are you THINKING?” Demeter shouted, rising from her chair with her fists clenched. “Why did you do that? You’ve ruined everything!” Metaneira was stunned speechless. Meanwhile, Prince Triptolemus and several guards stumbled into the room to investigate the screaming. “What’s wrong?” Triptolemus demanded. “Arrest this woman!” Metaneira shrieked, clutching her baby in her blistered arms. “She tried to kill Demophoon! He was burning in the fireplace!” The guards surged forward, but Triptolemus yelled, “WAIT!” The guards hesitated. Triptolemus frowned at his mother, then at the old woman. He was smart enough to realize something wasn’t right here. The baby was crying, but otherwise he seemed fine. He didn’t look burned. The blanket wasn’t even singed. The old woman looked more exasperated than guilty or scared. “What is the meaning of this?” he asked their guest. “The meaning,” growled Demeter, “is that your mother just ruined things for the baby.” The old woman began to glow. Her disguise burned away and she stood before them as a golden-haired goddess, her robes shimmering with green light, her scythe sword glinting at her side. The guards dropped their weapons and retreated. Maybe they’d heard the story of Eric. The queen gasped. As a pious woman, she knew how to spot her gods. “Demeter!” “Yes,” said the goddess. “I was trying to do you a favor, you silly woman. A few more hours in the fire, and your baby boy would have been immortal! He would’ve grown into a fine young god and brought you eternal honor. Now you’ve ruined the magic. He will simply be human—a great hero, yes, strong and tall, but doomed to a mortal life. He will only be Demophoon, when he could have been Fully Phoon! Phoon the Great!” Metaneira gulped. She wasn’t sure if she should apologize, or thank the goddess, or what. She was so relieved to have her baby back safely, unburned and without hairy pits, that she didn’t really care whether he was immortal. A great hero sounded good enough for her. Still, she didn’t think she should say that to the goddess. “I—I should have trusted you,” Metaneira murmured. “Please, great Demeter, punish me for my lack of faith, but do not harm my family.” Demeter waved her comment aside. “Don’t be silly. I won’t punish you. I’m just annoyed. You’ve been helpful in my search, and—” “Oh!” Triptolemus raised his hand like he had a burning question. “Yes?” Demeter asked. “That reminds me,” Triptolemus said. “One of my riders just returned with news.” “About my daughter?” Demeter completely forgot her annoyance and grabbed the prince’s shoulders. “Have you found her?” Triptolemus wasn’t used to being shaken by an immortal goddess, but he tried to keep his cool. “Uh, not exactly, my lady. However, the rider says he met someone who met someone who met a guy in a tavern far to the east. This guy claimed he was the Titan of the sun, Helios. He was trying to impress the women with his stories, apparently.” Demeter narrowed her eyes. “Flirting with random women in a tavern? That sounds like Helios. Well, it sounds like most of the gods, actually. What did he say?” “Apparently he was telling a story about your daughter Persephone. He claimed that he saw the abduction and he knew who did it. But, er, he didn’t name the culprit.” “Of course!” Demeter got so excited that grass started to sprout on Triptolemus’s shirt. “Oh, sorry…but this is excellent news! I should’ve thought to visit Helios sooner. He sees everything!” She kissed Triptolemus on the cheek. “Thank you, my dear boy. I will not forget your help. Once I reclaim my daughter, I will reward you handsomely.” Triptolemus tried to smile but failed. He was worried Demeter was going to make him sleep in a burning fireplace. “That’s okay. Really.” “No, I insist. But now I must fly!” Demeter turned into a turtledove, which was one of her sacred birds, and flew out the window, leaving behind the very confused royal family of Eleusis. Helios knew he was in trouble as soon as Demeter burst into his throne room. The sun Titan always liked to relax in the last hours of the night, before he had to saddle his fiery horses and get to work. He was kicking back, thinking about all the crazy stuff he’d seen during his ride the day before. He really should write a book. Then suddenly, the bronze doors of his audience chamber flew open, and Demeter rode her dragon-drawn chariot right up the steps of his throne. The dragons snarled and bared their fangs, drooling all over Helios’s golden shoes. “Uh, hi?” he said nervously. “Where is my daughter?” Demeter’s voice was calm and deadly serious. Helios winced. He didn’t want to get involved in godly disagreements. They didn’t pay him enough for that. But he decided that right now was not the time to withhold information. “Hades took her,” he said. He told her everything he’d seen. Demeter held back a scream. She didn’t want to cause another popcorn epidemic. But Hades? Of all the disgusting, horrible male gods who might have taken her precious daughter, Hades was the most disgusting and horrible of all. “And why didn’t you tell me this sooner?” Her voice was as sharp as her scythe. “Well, um—” “Never mind!” she snapped. “I’ll deal with you later. When Zeus hears how Hades has dishonored our daughter, he’ll be furious!” She rode out of the sun palace and made straight for Mount Olympus.As you can guess, her conversation with Zeus didn’t go quite the way she planned. She marched into the throne room and yelled, “Zeus! You won’t believe what happened.” She told him the whole story and demanded he do something. Strangely, Zeus did not seem furious. He wouldn’t meet Demeter’s eyes. He kept picking at the end of his lightning bolt. Sweat trickled down the side of his face. A cold feeling came over Demeter—a kind of anger that was much deeper than anything she’d felt before. “Zeus, what did you do?” “Well…” Zeus shrugged sheepishly. “Hades might have mentioned that he wanted to marry Persephone.” Demeter’s fingernails dug into her palms until her hands were dripping golden ichor. “And?” “And it’s a good match! Hades is powerful. He’s handsome…or, um, well, he’s powerful.” “I want my daughter back,” Demeter said. “NOW.” Zeus squirmed on his throne. “Look, babe—” “Do NOT call me babe.” “I can’t go back on my word. It’s done. She’s down in the Underworld. They’re married. End of story.” “No,” Demeter said. “Not the end of the story. Until I have my daughter back, nothing will grow on the earth. Crops will die. People will starve. Every single living creature will share my pain until you do the right thing and return Persephone!” Demeter thundered out of the room. (Thundering was usually Zeus’s job, but she was beyond mad.) She went back to Eleusis, the one kingdom where people had helped her. She allowed the crops there to continue growing, but on the rest of the earth, everything withered and died just as she’d threatened. Zeus told himself, She’s just throwing a tantrum. Give her a few days and she’ll get over it. Weeks passed. Then months. Humans starved by the thousands. And when humans starved, they couldn’t make burnt offerings to the gods. They couldn’t build new temples. All they could do was cry out in agony, praying to the gods twenty-four/seven, Help us! We’re starving! Which gave Zeus a huge headache. Also, the gods were reduced to eating ambrosia and nectar, which got old quickly. Without grain, they couldn’t have any bread or those awesome fresh-baked brownies that Hera sometimes made. Finally Zeus relented. He summoned his main messenger, a god named Hermes, and said, “Hey, Hermes, go down to the Underworld. Tell Hades he’s got to send Persephone back right away or we’ll never have any peace—or brownies.” “On it, boss.” Hermes zoomed down to the Underworld. Meanwhile, Persephone had been in the palace of Hades this whole time, and she was learning the hard way that the world did not revolve around her. No matter how many times she stamped her feet, held her breath, or screamed for her mother, she couldn’t get what she wanted. She threw some epic tantrums. She tore up her bed (which made it hard to sleep); she kicked the walls (which hurt her foot); and when Hades’s ghostly servants brought her meals, she smashed the plates and refused to eat anything, even though she was starving. The “not eating” thing was important. See, in Greek times, eating food in another person’s house was like signing a contract. It meant you accepted your place as their guest. They had to treat you properly, but you also had to behave properly. Basically, it meant you and your host were on friendly terms. Persephone didn’t want to sign that contract. Not at all. The first few days, she refused to leave her room. Hades didn’t force her to, though he tried to talk to her a few times. “Look,” he said, “your dad agreed to the marriage. I’m sorry about the whole kidnapping thing—which by the way was his idea—but honestly, I love you. You’re amazing and beautiful and I promise—” “Get out!” She threw whatever she could grab—which happened to be a pillow. The pillow bounced off Hades’s chest. Hades looked sad and left her alone. Around the fourth day, Persephone got bored and left her room. No one stopped her. She quickly realized why. Outside of the king’s palace, there was no place to go. She was stuck in the Underworld, with nothing in any direction except gray gloomy plains filled with dead people, and no sky above except dark mist. Even if she ran away from the palace, she didn’t want to walk through those fields full of dead souls, and she had no idea how to get back to the upper world. The most infuriating thing? Hades refused to get mad at her, no matter how many plates she smashed or sheets she tore up, or how many horrible names she called him—though honestly she didn’t know that many insults. She’d lived a happy, sheltered life, and calling Hades Stupid Head didn’t quite seem forceful enough. Hades took her abuse and told her he was sorry that she was angry. “I do love you,” he promised. “You are the brightest thing in the entire Underworld. With you here, I will never miss the sunlight again. You are warmer than the sun by far.” “You’re a stupid head!” she screamed. After he left, she realized that what he’d said was sort of sweet—but only in a creepy, pathetic way, of course. The days passed. The more Persephone wandered through the palace, the more amazed she became. The mansion was huge. Hades had entire rooms made of gold and silver. Every day, his servants set out new bouquets of flowers made from precious jewels: a dozen ruby roses on diamond stems, platinum and gold sunflowers with emerald-studded leaves. Even on Mount Olympus, Persephone had never seen such dazzling wealth. She started to realize that as creepy and horrible as Hades was, he had tremendous power. He controlled thousands of souls. He commanded horrifying monsters and creatures of the darkness. He had access to all the wealth under the earth, making him the richest god in the world. No matter what Persephone destroyed, he could instantly replace it with something even better. Still, she hated the place. Of course she did! She missed the sun and the meadows and the fresh flowers. The Underworld was so clammy she could never get warm. The constant gloom gave her a serious case of seasonal affective disorder. Then one day she stumbled across Hades’s throne room. He was sitting at the far end, on a throne sculpted from thousands of bones, talking to a shimmering ghost. Persephone guessed it was a soul newly arrived from the mortal world, as it seemed to giving Hades the latest news. “Thank you,” Hades told the spirit. “But I will never give in! I don’t care how many mortals die!” Persephone marched up to the dais. “What are you talking about, you horrible person? Who are you killing now?” Hades looked stunned. He waved at the ghost and it disappeared. “I—I don’t want to tell you,” Hades said. “It would bring you pain.” Which only made her want to know more. “What’s going on?” Hades took a deep breath. “Your mother is angry. She knows now that I took you for my wife.” “Ha!” Persephone’s heart soared. “Oh, you’re in so much trouble. She’s on her way down here right now with an army of angry nymphs and grain spirits, isn’t she?” “No,” Hades said. Persephone blinked. “No?” “She will not cross into the Underworld,” Hades said. “She hates it here. She hates me.” “Of course she does!” Persephone said, though she was a little disappointed. She’d been counting on her mom to rescue her. Surely Demeter would come get her personally, whether or not she hated the Underworld. “But…I’m confused. What were you saying about mortals dying?” Hades grimaced. “Your mother is trying to force Zeus into getting you back. Demeter is starving the entire world, letting thousands of people die until you are returned to her.” Persephone almost fell over. Her mother was doing what? Demeter had always been so gentle and kind. Persephone couldn’t imagine her mom letting a corn plant die, much less thousands of people. But something told her that Hades wasn’t lying. Persephone’s eyes stung. She wasn’t sure if she was sad or angry or just sick to her stomach. Thousands of mortals were dying because of her? “You must return me,” Persephone said. “Immediately.” Hades clenched his jaw. For the first time he didn’t look mopey or weak. He met her gaze. His dark eyes flared with purple fire. “You are my very existence now,” Hades said. “You are more precious to me than all the jewels under the earth. I’m sorry you do not love me, but I will be a good husband to you. I’ll do everything I can to make you happy. I will not return you. If I must, I will counter Demeter’s attack. I will open the gates of the Underworld and let the dead flood back into the world rather than release you!” Persephone didn’t know what to do with that information. Her heart felt like it was compressing into a tiny jewel, as bright and hard as a diamond. She turned and fled. She ran down a corridor she’d never explored before, opened a doorway, and stepped out into…a garden. She couldn’t breathe. It was the most incredible place she had ever seen. Ghostly warm lights floated overhead—perhaps the souls of particularly sunny dead people? She wasn’t sure, but the garden was warmer and brighter than anywhere else in the Underworld. Beautiful subterranean flowers glowed in the dark. Orchards of carefully pruned trees bore sweet-smelling blooms and neon-bright fruit. The paths were sculpted with rubies and topaz. White birch trees soared into the air like frozen ghosts. A brook wended through the middle of the garden. On a nearby table sat a silver tray with a frosted decanter of nectar, along with Persephone’s favorite cookies and fresh fruits. She couldn’t understand what she was seeing. All the flowers and trees she loved best from the upper world were here in this garden, somehow blooming and flourishing in the darkness. “What…?” She couldn’t form a sentence. “How—” “Do you like it?” Hades spoke just behind her. He’d followed her outside, and for once his voice didn’t make her cringe. She turned and saw a tiny smile on his face. He didn’t look so horrible when he smiled. “You—you did this for me?” He shrugged. “I’m sorry it wasn’t ready sooner. I gathered the best gardeners in the Underworld. Askalaphos! Where are you?” A thin young man appeared from the bushes. He had gardening shears in his hand. He was obviously one of the dead, judging from his papery skin and the yellowish tinge in his eyes, but he managed a smile. He somehow looked more alert than the other zombies Persephone had met. “Just pruning the roses, my lord,” said Askalaphos. “My lady, a pleasure to meet you.” Persephone knew she should say something, like hello, but she was too stunned. Just then a winged gargoyle flew into the garden. It whispered something in Hades’s ear, and the god’s face grew stern. “A visitor,” he said. “Excuse me, my dear.” When he was gone, Askalaphos gestured to the patio table. “My lady, would you like something to eat?” “No,” Persephone said automatically. Despite everything, she knew she shouldn’t accept the hospitality of a god who had kidnapped her. “Suit yourself,” said the gardener. “I just picked these ripe pomegranates, though. They’re amazing.” He pulled one from his coveralls and set it on the table, then cut the fruit into three parts with his knife. Hundreds of juicy purple-red seeds glistened inside. Now personally, I’m not a big pomegranate fan, but Persephone loved them. They reminded her of her happiest moments aboveground, frolicking in the meadows with her nymph friends. She looked at the luscious fruit, and her stomach howled in protest. It had been days since she’d eaten anything. She was immortal, so she couldn’t die; but she felt like she was starving. A little bite won’t hurt, she told herself. She sat down, put one seed in her mouth, and couldn’t believe how good it tasted. Before she knew it, she had eaten a third of the fruit. She probably would’ve eaten more if Hades hadn’t returned with his visitor—the god Hermes. “My love!” Hades called, and his voice sounded like he’d been weeping. Persephone shot to her feet. She hid her sticky purple fingers behind her and hoped she didn’t have juice running down her chin. “Mmm-hmm?” she mumbled, working a few half-chewed seeds around in her mouth. “This is Hermes.” Hades’s face looked broken with despair. “He—he has come to take you back.” Persephone swallowed. “But…you said—” “Zeus commands it.” Hades sounded so sad that Persephone forgot this was good news. “I would gladly fight any god for your sake, but even I cannot fight against the entire Olympian council. I am…I am forced to give you up.” Persephone should have been shouting with joy. This was what she wanted! So why did she feel so bad about it? She couldn’t stand the look of devastation on Hades’s face. He’d made this garden just for her. He’d treated her well…at least after the initial kidnapping, and that had been Zeus’s idea. Hades had been ready to open the gates of the dead for her sake. Hermes didn’t seem bothered by any of that. “Well, excellent!” He grinned at Persephone. “Ready to go? Just some regulation questions I have to ask first—you know, customs stuff for crossing the border. Have you come into contact with any live animals?” Persephone frowned. “No.” “Visited any farms?” Hermes inquired. “Are you carrying more than ten thousand drachmas in foreign currency?” “Uh…no.” “Last question,” Hermes said. “Have you eaten any food in the Underworld?” He held up his hands in apology. “I know it’s stupid question. I mean, obviously you’re smarter than that. If you ate any food in the Underworld, you’d have to stay here forever!” Persephone cleared her throat. “Uh…” I don’t know if she would’ve lied or not, but before she could answer, the gardener Askalaphos said, “Show them your hands, my lady.” Persephone blushed. She held out her hands, which were stained purple. “One third of a pomegranate,” she said. “That’s all.” “Oh,” Hermes said. “Whoops.” “She can stay!” Hades danced in a circle, grinning from ear to ear, then seemed to realize he didn’t look very dignified. “Er, I mean, she must stay. I’m—I’m sorry, my dear, if that makes you sad. But I can’t pretend I’m not delighted. This is wonderful news.” Persephone’s emotions were so jumbled that she wasn’t sure how she felt. Hermes scratched his head. “This complicates things. I’ve got to report for new orders. Back soon.” He flew to Mount Olympus and told the other gods his news. When Demeter heard the problem, she flew into a rage. Somehow she managed to send a powerful curse straight through the ground, into that Underworld garden in Hades’s mansion. She zapped the gardener Askalaphos into a gecko because he’d told on Persephone. Why a gecko? I have no idea. I guess, off the top of her head, a zombie gecko was the worst curse she could think of. Demeter threatened to let the world keep starving unless she got her daughter back. Hades sent a new message via Hermes, warning that the dead would rise in a zombie apocalypse unless Persephone stayed with him. Zeus was getting a splitting headache, imagining his beautiful world being ripped apart, until Hestia came up with a solution. “Let Persephone divide her time,” suggested the hearth goddess. “She ate one third of the pomegranate. Let her spend a third of the year with Hades, and two-thirds with Demeter.” Amazingly, all the gods agreed. Hades was happy to have his wife, even for just a third of the year. Demeter was overjoyed, though she never got over being mad at Hades. Whenever Persephone was in the Underworld, Demeter turned cold and angry and wouldn’t let the plants grow. According to the old stories, that’s why there are three distinct seasons in Greece, and during the colder months of autumn, crops don’t grow. As for Persephone, the whole experience kind of forced her to grow up. She fell in love with Hades and made a place for herself in the Underworld, though she still enjoyed spending time in the mortal world with her mom and her old friends. The magic Titan Hecate, who had helped Demeter search, went to the Underworld and became one of Persephone’s attendants. That was cool with Hecate. The Underworld was much darker, and a better place to work magic than a drafty cave. Demeter even remembered her promise to Triptolemus, the prince of Eleusis. She gave him his own serpent-wheeled chariot and made him the god of farming. She told him to travel the world and teach people about agriculture. It doesn’t sound like a very flashy job, but I guess Triptolemus liked it better than being thrown in a bed of fire. After that, Demeter really did settle down.