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"Are you okay?" My head snaps up at the sound of the familiar, husky voice. Crap. I hoped to be alone for a while before court, in this small lounge near the throne room where I’ll be judging shades shortly. I forgot that Persephone told me that she often likes to work down here, preparing summaries for the trials. She likes the quiet, away from her office where people know how to find her.
Why am I lying to myself? I didn't really forget, I was hoping to see her. Idiot. Guilt floods me, tingeing the excitement I always feel in her presence. She looks ready for court, dressed in a white peplos made of silky material. The soft pleats hide her legs, but she has it pinned it so her shoulders and arms are bare, and she’s wearing her long hair in braids wound around her head. I swallow hard. I really shouldn’t be noticing this.
“Um, yeah,” I answer. “I’m fine. Thank you.” Damn, that is weak. She’s never going to believe that. Persephone tilts her head, adjusts her armful of scrolls, and takes a step closer to me.
“Fine, huh? I seem to remember that’s a four-letter word… right?” she smiles gently.
“Heh, yeah. You got me. I’m kinda hiding out.”
“Oh, I guess I shouldn’t bother you then?” Despite her words, she glides a little closer. My palms start to sweat.
“No, I… please don’t go. People are acting weird towards m-me today and it’s making me nuts. I really am fine, I just feel kind of numb.” I wave my hands vaguely, trying to indicate the scope of my feelings.
Persephone piles her scrolls on a side table, and sits down near me on the couch. “Numb? Now you’re making me think there really is something wrong.” She leans toward me as she speaks, tentatively reaching out with one small pink hand. I watch that hand. Truth be told, I want her to touch me. I shouldn’t be thinking that, but I can’t help it.
“It’s not that bad,” I say. “It was time. Way past time, really. I mean, it was a terrible idea in the first place, never should have happened…” I’m babbling. I need to shut up already. Moron!
Persephone’s confusion is plain on her face. “Wait, what are you talking about? What was a terrible idea?” Her hand pauses and starts to retreat.
Oh, shit. She didn’t know. “Um… I broke up with Minthe. Yesterday. Everyone’s talking about it, apparently. I’m surprised you didn’t know.” I try a little smile, but from the way her eyes widen, it must look ghastly. “Sorry. I really am okay.”
Persephone slides backwards a small distance, and folds her hands. “Oh. No one told me. I’m s… that is, it must be difficult. I get why you’d want some alone time.” She looks down for a moment, then back up at me. I can’t tell, but I think maybe she’s nervous. “Maybe ‘numb’ is not so bad then?” she asks.
“Of the available options, it’s probably the best,” I shrug. “I wish I were a little more numb though. Enough so I didn’t notice people tiptoeing around me and looking scared, like I’m going to explode.” I watch her face, searching for clues about what she’s thinking. “I’m not, by the way. Going to explode.”
She gives me a crooked smile. ”I didn’t think so. I got the impression that you’ve been really stressed since she, um, stopped working here. I’ve been kind of worried for you.”
“Ha! Yeah, you could say I’ve been stressed. It’s kind of you to be worried, especially considering…” I pause, unsure how to proceed. “You… a while ago, you refused to tell me how you ended up in Tower Four. Can I ask--were you afraid if you told me that Minthe sent you, that she would--get back at you, somehow?”
Persephone blushes. “Oh, um… no. It’s just, it was an awkward position to be in, to be the one to tell you that your girlfriend did that. I didn’t want that responsibility. I wasn’t really hurt, so I just wanted to let it go. I hope you’re not mad at me.” She shuffles her feet awkwardly.
She’s adorable. Dammit. “No, of course not. I understand. I do wish I’d known, though, because it’s a really unprofessional situation--” Why am I lying to her? Cut it out! “No, that’s not why.” I sigh, and look away.
I don’t want to lie to her. I fidget with my hands, thinking about what I can tell her. “Look, the truth is, well, it’s pretty complicated. But my relationship with Minthe, in many ways it wasn’t good. She could be very cruel sometimes. I’m sorry that it affected you.” Ugh, that was real smooth. I meant to give her a real apology, an explanation, and instead I fucked it up.
Persephone takes a deep breath, very slowly, and I watch her. My throat feels tight and my eyes are hot. I have to keep control of my emotions! She takes all this in for a while, merely looking at me with her eyes full of empathy. Then she slides over on the couch until her knee nearly touches mine, pats me on the arm, and speaks again. “What happened wasn’t your fault. And I think the one that was most affected was you. Am I right?” She looks up at me, straight into my eyes, emphasizing her point with a little squeeze on my biceps.
Dammit! She reads me like a book. I can’t meet her eyes. I look around the room instead, trying to gather my thoughts. Does she actually understand? Does she get it about how Minthe behaved towards me? How can she?
Persephone seems to take my jittery behavior as a further confession. Her voice barely above a whisper, she says, “Maybe if I had told you about Tower Four, I could have saved you some pain. I’m very sorry.”
I’m absolutely stunned. How can she be apologizing to me? I don’t deserve her sympathy. I shake my head, and lean back from her. “You don’t owe me an apology. Please, if anything, you should be angry with me.” I fold my arms across my body and look down at the floor. “I took a bad situation and I made it worse by neglect. I should have acted a long time ago.” I shouldn’t be telling her this. It’s too much. Nobody wants to listen to my whining.
Suddenly I’m desperate to make her smile again. I rack my brain for some lighter topic: a joke, an observation. Persephone has been giving me all of her attention, leaning forward, her face serious and concerned, but now she sits up straight and breaks her gaze. She slips her hand under the sash of her peplos and seems to be searching for something. Is she looking for her phone? Does she want an excuse to get out of this conversation? I can hardly blame her. She delves deeper into her garments and I try not to stare. What under the earth is she doing?
After a few moments she brings her hand out again, not holding a phone, but something smaller. Persephone holds it out to show me. “Do you know what this is?”
In the center of her palm rests a flat black stone, the size of a large coin. Its edges are rounded and smooth, and it has a small hole in it, off-center. She reaches out and places it in my hand. Did she let her fingers brush my palm on purpose? I try to control my shiver.
I look at the rock, turning it in my hand, enjoying the texture and warmth. “A rock with a hole in it? Looks like basalt. Volcanic. Nice and smooth. I think--is the hole natural? Made by water?” I wonder where she might have been keeping it, that it’s so warm already. Tucked between her breasts, maybe? No , stop that!
Persephone nods, looking pleased. “I shouldn’t be surprised that you know a lot about rocks. I found this one on a river bank when I was small. There was a naiad I knew; she told me a story. About rocks like these. She said they’re called Ione’s Eyes. Do you want to hear the story?”
“Yes,” I reply, without hesitation. If she’ll stay here and keep talking to me, looking at me like that, I’ll listen to anything at all.
“Okay. Once upon a time--” she pauses and gives a little self-conscious shrug. When she moves like that, her shoulders are so graceful and exquisite. I want to run my fingers along her collarbones--no, dammit, stop ! I force myself to concentrate on the story.
“Once upon a time there was a lovely mortal princess named Ione. In the usual way of things, she met and fell in love with a young lord of her city. Ione was quite clever, and knew all the stories and histories, so she was very pleased with herself that her beloved was someone that her father would consider a suitable match.”
“I object. This isn’t how stories go! Where’s the heartbreak and bloodshed?” I gesture in the air, hamming up my outrage.
Persephone laughs. “Just you wait. Anyway, Ione went to her father to tell him the good news. She figured that he would be delighted to be saved the trouble of finding a husband for her, for her father was always busy with hunting and writing letters and drinking wine with merchants.”
I can’t contain myself. “It’s never a good idea to assume you know what the king is up to,” I crow, grinning at her. She’s good at story-telling, though I shouldn’t be surprised. She’s good at most things I’ve seen her try.
“Hush! This is not one of those audience-participation things,” Persephone glares at me, and I snicker a little. I guess I should try to control myself. “So Ione told her father that she was in love with a young lord of the city, who had a good name, and a big house, and enough money. She pointed out that since her baby brother’s birth she was no longer her father’s heir. She expected her father would smile, and start arranging the wedding.” She pauses again, for dramatic effect. I fold my hands and straighten my spine, showing her I know how to behave properly.
“But Ione’s father did not smile. Yes, I know, you’re so smart, you already knew that.” Persephone rolls her eyes, forestalling my comment. “Her father was very displeased. Naturally he had his own ideas, and had made arrangements for her to be wed to a king from a distant city. He forbade Ione to see her beloved again and told her she would be leaving in the morning to journey to the home of her new husband. Furthermore, he decreed that Ione’s beloved would also be leaving in the morning, to lead an army against a rival city.” Persephone pauses again, expectantly, but I just nod. I’ve interrupted enough.
“As I said before, Ione was clever. But she was more than just clever--she was a sorceress. One of Hecate’s followers. Ione knew that if she defied her father, she would only bring destruction upon her beloved. She couldn’t do that.” Persephone lets her voice go softer, her rhythm slow and measured.
“That night, as the moon rose, Ione prayed and meditated. And she had an inspiration. She would act to protect her beloved from her father’s retribution. She would act to protect herself from her forced husband’s unwelcome embrace. That night, using her darkest magics, Ione tore out her own eye and turned it to stone.” Persephone gestures, indicating the stone that I still hold in my hand. Woah, that took a turn. I feel the weight of an unconfessed secret sitting in the pit of my stomach. Shit. That’s another thing I should tell her.
Persephone goes on. “Ione gave the stone to her trusted servant, with a message. She told her beloved to always keep the stone with him, so that she could look out for him and protect him from harm. The next morning Ione put on a thick veil, in order to hide her scarred face, and took leave of her family. She traveled to her new home, and only there did she remove the veil. Her new husband was shocked by her appearance, but he could see that she was a powerful sorceress. He did not dare to touch her. He did not dare to put her aside, either.”
“What happened to the beloved?” I ask.
“Well, as it turned out, with Ione’s protection and his own skills, no one could stand before him. He wore the stone everywhere, and remained loyal to Ione for his whole life. He conquered the rival city and made himself king there. In time, he came back with his own army and conquered Ione’s father as well.” She pauses again, tilting her head to invite commentary.
I smile thinly. “It’s always better to harness ambitious underlings than to piss them off and allow them their own power base. Clearly Ione’s father got what he deserved.” Persephone snorts a laugh. Not what she expected me to say? “So what happened to Ione?”
“Well, the naiad who told me the story wasn’t sure--there are different versions. Some say she learned to love her new home and used her powers to help her people. Some say she plied her husband with potions to make him do her bidding. Some say she grew too ambitious in her sorcery, and the people rose up and killed her. But some--” Persephone allows a tiny smile to cross her lips, “some say that the husband grew bitter and angry over his sorceress wife who didn’t love him. He spoke harshly to her, and criticized her ideas, and ridiculed her scarred face. So one dark night she flayed the skin from his flesh and wore it as a cloak forevermore.”
I choke down a laugh. From her look of manic glee, I think Persephone wants me to be horrified by the story’s gruesome ending. I control my face with an effort and nod in approval of her telling. “That’s a good story. So the naiad said that stones like this are her eyes?”
“Something like that,” Persephone laughs. “At the time I wasn’t all that impressed with the story. But I did like the stone, so I kept it. I came to think of it as a good luck charm. I used to wear it on a cord around my neck sometimes. I made sure to always have it on me for chess matches and swim meets.”
“And spelling bees,” I suggest, trying not to smirk.
“Right.” Persephone blushes. “Hey, don’t laugh, it worked! I mean, it’s not that I literally believe that it brings me luck, but I had it with me through some tough times. So now, when I’m going through something, it’s a reminder that I got through those, and I can get through whatever I’m dealing with.” She pauses to smile at me. “Anyway, I want you to keep it. No, don’t look at me like that! It’s a loan, not a gift. I’ll need it back eventually.” She closes my hand around the stone, and squeezes my fingers.
How can I say no to that? “Thank you,” I say instead. I’m struggling to keep my voice steady. “It’s very kind of you to loan it to me. I promise I’ll take good care of it.” My eyes feel hot again. I give her the best smile I can manage, and the tender smile she returns to me warms my heart.