The ripe red and black berries were coated in a thick layer of honey—just the way Persephone liked them. Or how she used to. Now, her lip curled at the thought of eating the once-beloved treat before her.

Rycen, the flower nymph that had been Persephone's companion for as long as she could remember, stopped her cleaning of the simple hut Persephone and Demeter stayed in no matter the village they visited (it didn't look it but the building was magicked to be wherever Demeter was on Earth).

Her sun-yellow eyes narrowed. "Something wrong?"

"I'm not hungry."

Not the truth, but not a complete lie, either.

Persephone wouldn't crave anything until her body burned through the nectar and ambrosia she'd had a few days ago.

"You never pass up an opportunity to eat those, especially not when I foraged the entire morning for them. Why don't you want the berries? Not enough honey?"

"No, too sweet," Persephone let slip before realizing how strange that complaint would sound.

"Too sweet?" Rycen snorted. "When has anything been too sweet for you?"

Persephone shrugged. "I'm just in the mood for something tart."

"Tart?"

Rycen tossed her cleaning rag on the nearest table and approached Persephone. Her sunflower petal hair moved with her every footstep and reminded Persephone of flowers on a spectacular spring day.

A sweet pang of longing took hold and Persephone had to concentrate on not filling the room with every flower that came to mind.

To restrain herself almost brought tears to Persephone's eyes. Now the embodiment of spring, she spent half her time day-dreaming of all she could do once the Earth cried out for her touch.

Well, half the world already did but Demeter had forbidden Persephone from leaving the immediate area until she mastered her Purpose and all the common abilities that came with godhood.

"Are you well?" Rycen asked as she peered into Persephone's face.

An absurd question on the surface.

Only magic could ail a god, and Persephone was sure no one had spelled her. Hera would have, but she'd been too drunk to focus enough to form a spell.

But on an emotional and mental level, no, Persephone wasn't well. Partly it was because her mother had tied her hands when all she wanted to do was embrace her Purpose and explore her surroundings with her new power.

But then there was the nagging suspicion that Persephone had overlooked an important detail about herself. She kept thinking back to what the Fate had said to her, and how it had affected her. That had meaning, she was sure now, she just couldn't figure out its significance.

It also didn't help that strange visions came to Persephone when she rested. She saw dark tunnels she'd somehow traveled a thousand times, an impossible river of flames she knew the burn of, a land of incredible deadly beauty her heart called home, and a horde of faces she'd never seen before but recognized, their names on the tip of her tongue.

It was as if her visions revealed a secret life she'd forgotten about, as ridiculous as that was.

Maybe not that, though.

Maybe the visions were just clues she had to decipher to unlock all her power.

Could that be how it was for every new god?

Why had neither Hermes nor her mother nor Hestia mentioned it? Were they not allowed to, so to not make the handling of a god's Purpose too easy in the beginning?

Was this how they weeded out those too weak to handle a Purpose?

Was that even a possibility, a god being unable to handle their Purpose? Would the Fates assign a Purpose, knowing the god wouldn't have it for long?

"Persephone?"

Rycen's voice tore Persephone from her tornado of thoughts.

She shoved them down below the surface of her consciousness, still aware of them but barring them from controlling her focus.

"I need... help," Persephone admitted.

"Your mother won't be back for a few days, but I'm sure if you continue to work on your Purpose, whatever problem will work itself out."

"It's not with my Purpose. Well... not like what you're thinking, anyway."

Rycen frowned. "How can I be of any help?"

"I need to see... the Oracle of Delphi."

The announcement had the expected effect on the flower nymph. She gasped and shed a few sunflower petals in her surprise. Her nut-brown skin paled.

"Why?" she choked out.

"She might sort out a few... confusions for me."

Persephone couldn't reveal her visions. There was nothing terrible about them, but they would upset Rycen; maybe make her send for Demeter.

"Your mother can do that."

"Trust me, she can't."

Demeter would never let Persephone out of her sight if she knew what was plaguing her daughter.

"I—What makes you think—This is —"

"I know you've visited the Oracle before."

Persephone didn't allude to knowing Rycen's reason, though. It would break Rycen's heart to find out that all the other nearby nymphs talked about the child Rycen had had too young and abandoned with its satyr father.

Shame brightened Rycen's cheeks, and Persephone itched to comfort her.

While she couldn't imagine leaving any child she may have, she understood how difficult it must have been for her friend, just barely old enough to produce children but without the maturity to raise them.

At least the father, from what Persephone had gathered over the years, was decent. The child couldn't have had too bad of an upbringing.

"I was on an errand... for your mother."

Persephone let the lie be with no sign she knew Rycen was being untruthful. "So, you know where to find the Oracle?"

"... Yes."

"Please, just guide me to her. This is important."

Rycen watched Persephone for a long moment. "Are you sure your mother can't assist you?"

Persephone shook her head.

"We're supposed to stay—"

Persephone widened her eyes and jutted out her bottom lip. She hadn't used this begging look in years, but it'd never failed to win Rycen over. Persephone had been an adorable godling then.

Despite what Hera had said at The Deciding, Persephone knew she wasn't unattractive, but the debate was if she'd carried her young charms into godhood.

Evidently, she had because Rycen blew through her nose and rolled her eyes; her usual reaction for when Persephone won.

"You're too old for that."

Persephone smiled. "Not if it gets results."

"I've failed at raising you."

Persephone slipped on her sandals. "We should hurry. It'll take us all the time we have before my mother returns."

Rycen smirked. "Oh, no, we'll be back before the day's end."

"How? We don't have any..."

Persephone trailed off as Rycen's grin grew, and she patted the small bag she wore.

"What?"

"You've forgotten, haven't you?"

"I—Oh." Persephone nodded as understanding hit her. "Do you have enough for a return trip?"

Rycen snickered. "Your mother has more than provided me enough for several trips."

Persephone muttered under her breath and left the hut; Rycen on her heels.

"You may... rise," Persephone said to the thin mortal girl, who'd just started to develop, bowed before her. The voluminous peplos she wore attempted to hide this, but it only enhanced her body's immaturity.

The Pythia stood, her heavily made-up face bright with awe. "I couldn't believe my priestesses when they told me a goddess graced my temple. This is quite the honor, my Lady."

Of all that unsettled Persephone about the Pythia, her voice was the most troubling. She sounded like a wizened elder.

Was this what happened to those chosen to be Apollo's Oracle? Did the burden age parts of them rapidly? If so, how long did it take before the power consumed her and drove her to madness?

"I'm... I'm grateful you granted me an audience. I'm sure you're busy."

The Pythia waved away her comment. "I'm never too preoccupied for console with a goddess."

"Well... thank you."

The Pythia inclined her head. "How may I be of service, my Lady?"

"I've—"

It occurred to Persephone who the Oracle derived her power from. Apollo seemed like a decent god, but he was an insatiable gossip.

Would the Pythia reveal the nature of Persephone's visit to the god?

If so, all the discovered world would know of Persephone's visions.

"What's revealed in my temple is between me and the audience that seeks guidance. Even Lord Apollo can't infringe upon that sacred rule."

Relief pierced Persephone. "I'm so glad."

A soft smile played on the Pythia's painted lips. Persephone couldn't be the first to have that concern, and no doubt wouldn't be the last.

"I... I was assigned my Purpose a few days ago, and since then I've been having... visions, for lack of a better word."

"Visions aren't uncommon for gods and goddesses, especially pertaining to their Purposes."

"These have nothing to do with my Purpose."

Persephone hadn't meant to say that, but she knew the statement was true as soon as she uttered it.

The Pythia cocked her head to the side as if she heard a voice (Persephone wouldn't be surprised if she did).

After a deafening moment, she pointed at Persephone's hands. "May I, my Lady?"

Persephone nodded, and the Pythia wrapped her hands around Persephone's fingers. Her touch was feather-light but Persephone could never overlook it.

The Pythia's skin, though shiny with fragrant oils, was as dry as sunbaked clay and as lined as a crone's. They made Persephone wonder if her first assessment of the Oracle had been wrong.

Maybe she was an old mortal with a childlike face.

Both possibilities unsettled Persephone.

The Pythia's unfocused eyes were a pale shade of underwhelming brown. As the pair stood there, though, Persephone noticed a bright blue color was leaking from her pupils and overtaking the rest of her eye. Her breath hitched, and Persephone swore the lines on her hands deepened.

Then all at once the light disappeared, and the Pythia's breathing steadied. She nodded at Persephone. "All your answers can be found if you follow the path home."

The Pythia turned and walked through the nearby darkened doorway.

"Wait! I don't—I just came from my home."

Persephone's cries went unattended.

Fuming, she marched out of the temple the way she'd come.

Lesser Apollo priestesses watched her leave, hidden behind statues and pillars.

Outside, on the temple's steps, Rycen waited; her eyes darting every which way. Her anxious behavior drove the flames of Persephone's irritation higher.

She snapped her fingers at her companion.

"My mother isn't going to appear. Stop it!"

Rycen's back straightened, and her eyes narrowed. "You can't know that."

Persephone grumbled under her breath and pushed past Rycen and took the stairs. She heard Rycen follow her after a moment. She jogged to walk beside Persephone.

"What did the Oracle reveal?"

Anger still tainted the nymph's words.

"I need to go home."

Rycen sighed her relief. "Thank the gods. Maybe now you'll listen to sense."

Persephone shook her head.

The Oracle had to be wrong. Nothing at home could help her. If something could, she would have discovered it by now.

Then what did she do now?

Persephone couldn't go on without getting to the root of her visions, but how could she go about that?

Her only option was gone.

Or maybe not.

Other mortals had visions, right?

Maybe Persephone could get a hold of Apollo and —

"Where are you going?" Rycen asked.

Persephone stopped and took in her surroundings.

While she'd been fuming, her feet had been carrying her from the temple and its grounds to a cluster of rocks down the hill the temple was near. It wasn't the spot Persephone and Rycen had arrived at when the magicked seeds Rycen always had (Demeter insisted on it in case Persephone was ever in any danger) had transported them there.

Why was she headed there?

When Persephone tried to steer herself on a different route, her stomach rolled, and her heartbeat increased. She started back the way she'd been going and the intense sensations that had just smacked into her disappeared.

Hope bloomed.

Was she on the track to what the Oracle had been talking about?

"Persephone!"

Persephone ignored Rycen and continued walking to the rocks.

The closer she got, her seedling of joy grew stronger. The emotion overwhelmed her, and multiple flowers appeared in the grass where her feet touched.

Persephone didn't notice.

Rycen trailed after Persephone, grumbling and hurling half-formed threats.

Like the flowers Persephone had brought to life, Persephone couldn't care less about anything other than the rocks.

At the rocks, Persephone examined them top-to-bottom.

Why had she been so compelled to come here?

The rocks weren't unusual. They were the least appealing structure she'd ever seen. She wouldn't have even noticed the rocks if not for an unforeseen hand guiding her.

"You—" Rycen swallowed huge breaths as she stepped beside Persephone. "Are. Horrible! Why wouldn't you... wait... for me?"

Persephone pointed at the rocks. "Are these off at all?"

Rycen glared at Persephone. "Have you lost it?"

Persephone waved the nymph's annoyance away. Whatever trivial issues Rycen had could wait. They had to figure out what had drawn Persephone to this location.

All at once, Persephone noticed an odd shadow between two large rocks that could have only been there if the sun was setting. But it was high in the sky, just past the mid-day position.

How had the shadow formed?

Thoughtless, Persephone shoved her hand into the shadow.

To her surprise, her fingers touched a cold, fluid-like mist that left no residue when she snatched her hand back.

Rycen let loose a low moan. "What is that?"

"Maybe you should—"

Persephone couldn't finish her sentence. Somehow, she knew Rycen couldn't touch the weird shadow without getting hurt.

Rycen tugged on Persephone's arm. "Come on. We need to go." Genuine fear echoed her words.

"Okay... I guess we shouldn't—"

The shadow grew to the size of a door. Its darkness solidified, and Persephone swore it looked like the opening to a tunnel.

She breathed deep. She could smell the warm, sulfuric cavernous earth that lurked below.

"Persephone, we—What are you doing?"

Persephone had stepped closer to the opening. "Home," she muttered.

"No, stay here. It's not safe!"

As if in a trance, Persephone slipped into the tunnel.

Rycen screamed her name, but the nymph couldn't break through the hold the tunnel had on Persephone.

Even if Persephone could hear her companion, she would have pressed on. All she sought lay before her.