then they carried it all the way to an altar where many corpses waited. Once that was all finished, she thought they would head back to their beds. Persephone was certainly tired, and she could see in the set of the other women’s shoulders that they were as well.
But they weren’t done yet.
Together, they all hauled bleeding bodies of pigs to bury again. For the next year, one woman explained to her.
Persephone followed her mother back to a hut the women said was unoccupied. They all fell into a deep sleep until they awoke the next day.
“What are we doing today?” she asked her mother, stumbling toward the other women with bleary eyes.
“I asked a few of them yesterday. They said there’s a new ceremony this year, two more days added to the festival.” Demeter’s eyes were still bright with happiness. “They said this time it’s honoring you, not just me.”
“The pigs were for you?”
Demeter shrugged. “They’re good fertilizer. The plants love their bodies.”
Disgusting. Persephone joined a group of women around a fire, settling down on a blanket beside one she recognized. “Someone told me there’s a new addition to the festival this year.”
Quietly, the woman handed her a bowl of pomegranate seeds. “We’re not supposed to talk.”
She took the bowl of seeds, so familiar and yet not powerful like the seeds in the Underworld. She hadn’t expected to see these here. Taking a few bites, she took exactly six and placed them on her tongue.
The flavor burst and she stared at the other women around the fire. They stared into the flames with dull eyes, as if they were thinking of important things.
And so the day went. They ate only pomegranate seeds, and they all fasted. Some of the older women mixed the seeds with the rotting pig carcasses from yesterday, but most remained where they were.
Breathing out a little power, she followed the tendrils of magic into the minds of the other women and was shocked to realize they were thinking of her. They were hoping Persephone was safe. That she’d returned home to her mother and that the harvest would be good this year. But some of them were also hoping she eventually could go back to her husband. Some of them were hoping she was happy in her marriage.
The day passed. Helios brought the sun up and down with his chariot made of fire, and only then did the women break their fast. They brought out cakes shaped like the delicate petals between a woman’s legs. They laughed. They danced, and this sugar induced high continued on throughout the entire night.
The sun rose again, and still the women danced. They sang songs in the old languages, praying for both Demeter and Persephone. When the sun was at the highest peak in the sky, they paused and passed out the mixture of pomegranates and pig remains.
Then they all left. Heading back to their homes where Persephone was told they would bury the mixture in their fields.
“This is so Demeter knows to bless your lands, and that you did everything you could to keep her happy,” the elderly woman said, then passed her the bowl filled with meat and pomegranate.
“Thank you,” she replied. She brought it back to her mother with a confused frown on her face. “They think this will ensure they have a good harvest.”
Demeter took it in her hands. “And so it will. They have honored us both with this ritual, and I will not forget that.”
Persephone watched the expression on her mother’s face soften as she eyed the women. And for the first time, she felt like an Olympian. Like a real goddess who could impact people’s lives and encourage their wishes to come true.
“I suppose it will,” she whispered, staring at the women as well.
If any of the mortals looked back toward the ceremonial grounds, they wouldn’t have seen two humans standing there. Instead, they would see a golden pillar so bright she rivaled the sun. And beside her, a woman made of writhing shadows and blue flames.
Chapter 37
“We’re going to Olympus,” Demeter announced a few days after the festival.
No question. Just an order, like she would have done when Persephone was just a child.
Sighing, she placed her book down on the table beside her. Persephone had taken to staying in the rooms that used to be her private quarters. She was tired of walking through the fields and trying to put herself back into the same life she’d had before.