sunlight. Persephone, Cyane and the nymphs splashing in the water, dousing each other and shrieking with laughter, then throwing themselves on the grass, the water glinting on their shapely limbs.
I saw Persephone cast a quick glance in my direction but that was all. She stayed near the river, never coming closer to the cave. I waited, watching, as they plunged into the water, gasping at first at the coolness, then surfacing over and over. I saw them emerge, dripping, from the river, their diaphanous gowns clinging to them. I listened to their girlish voices, although I made a point of not eavesdropping on their conversation.
She had brought them here, I was sure of it. But why? Sad to say, my appearances are not always greeted with joy. They have even been known to cause panic, so I am judicious about manifesting. Persephone could safely assume I would not appear in front of that crowd.
Oh, sure, there’s all this talk about my Helmet of Invisibility but do you have any idea what that’s like? Yes, it works, but who do you think powers it? Me. The whole time I’m wearing it, I have to really concentrate. I walk around thinking, stay invisible, stay invisible. One sneeze and it’s game over. I’m sort of checking out some amorous action — Cupid and Psyche — and my allergies kick in and there I am, standing in front of them, and do I feel like a voyeur. And you know how it says on all those antihistamines, “may cause drowsiness, do not operate heavy machinery” — well, that holds for the Helmet, too. Take a pill and try and run that thing and you find yourself walking into walls and popping in and out of visibility. So for allergy season — i.e., all the time, in those days — the thing’s a write-off. On top of which, have you ever been inside one of those things? Hot, humid, and the inside of it smells like old socks. Its usefulness is really limited, and in this situation there was no way I was going to use it.
My impatience grew as I watched Persephone and the girls, prompting rolls of thunder and a cluster of thunderheads to appear on the horizon. I tried to calm myself. Demeter might grow suspicious of such a sudden change in the weather. She might come to investigate.
They were getting ready to leave. Sitting up, dusting themselves, arranging each other’s hair. I stood in the darkness of the cave feeling testy. Yes, caves are my domain, but I spend as little time in them as possible; they’re dank and full of bugs and bats. Despite Chinese sentiment, I have never felt bats were a particularly auspicious creature. Too flitty for that, and inclined to get tangled in loose-fitting clothes, such as himations, chitons or peploses.
Some of the girls patted the grass in search of combs and pins (I knew some of the ones they could not find would end up in my coffers eventually). Some checked their mirrors to make sure their coiffures were in place. I watched them adjusting their robes, tugging here, smoothing there, turning this way and that in front of one another.
When all was ready they turned and sauntered off. My temper flared. I could not stop it; a low growl rumbled. Had I come here and waited, for nothing? Some of the nymphs glanced skyward, held out their hands, palm up, to check for rain.
As if it was an afterthought, Persephone waved them on, then turned and ran back. She set a small ceramic pot in the mouth of the cave, and hurried away.
The flower glowed luminously against the encircling darkness. I recognized it, and knew.
Cyane
I began to think I’d got it wrong. I had thought Pers was up to something — getting me to drop off that bulb thing, the way she seemed preoccupied a lot of the time, and the way she snapped at me that time. I kept expecting her to say something, to let me in on what was up, but she didn’t.
We went swimming, just like before, and it seemed like things were getting back to normal. After that, whenever she wasn’t up on Olympus, she was helping
I saw Persephone cast a quick glance in my direction but that was all. She stayed near the river, never coming closer to the cave. I waited, watching, as they plunged into the water, gasping at first at the coolness, then surfacing over and over. I saw them emerge, dripping, from the river, their diaphanous gowns clinging to them. I listened to their girlish voices, although I made a point of not eavesdropping on their conversation.
She had brought them here, I was sure of it. But why? Sad to say, my appearances are not always greeted with joy. They have even been known to cause panic, so I am judicious about manifesting. Persephone could safely assume I would not appear in front of that crowd.
Oh, sure, there’s all this talk about my Helmet of Invisibility but do you have any idea what that’s like? Yes, it works, but who do you think powers it? Me. The whole time I’m wearing it, I have to really concentrate. I walk around thinking, stay invisible, stay invisible. One sneeze and it’s game over. I’m sort of checking out some amorous action — Cupid and Psyche — and my allergies kick in and there I am, standing in front of them, and do I feel like a voyeur. And you know how it says on all those antihistamines, “may cause drowsiness, do not operate heavy machinery” — well, that holds for the Helmet, too. Take a pill and try and run that thing and you find yourself walking into walls and popping in and out of visibility. So for allergy season — i.e., all the time, in those days — the thing’s a write-off. On top of which, have you ever been inside one of those things? Hot, humid, and the inside of it smells like old socks. Its usefulness is really limited, and in this situation there was no way I was going to use it.
My impatience grew as I watched Persephone and the girls, prompting rolls of thunder and a cluster of thunderheads to appear on the horizon. I tried to calm myself. Demeter might grow suspicious of such a sudden change in the weather. She might come to investigate.
They were getting ready to leave. Sitting up, dusting themselves, arranging each other’s hair. I stood in the darkness of the cave feeling testy. Yes, caves are my domain, but I spend as little time in them as possible; they’re dank and full of bugs and bats. Despite Chinese sentiment, I have never felt bats were a particularly auspicious creature. Too flitty for that, and inclined to get tangled in loose-fitting clothes, such as himations, chitons or peploses.
Some of the girls patted the grass in search of combs and pins (I knew some of the ones they could not find would end up in my coffers eventually). Some checked their mirrors to make sure their coiffures were in place. I watched them adjusting their robes, tugging here, smoothing there, turning this way and that in front of one another.
When all was ready they turned and sauntered off. My temper flared. I could not stop it; a low growl rumbled. Had I come here and waited, for nothing? Some of the nymphs glanced skyward, held out their hands, palm up, to check for rain.
As if it was an afterthought, Persephone waved them on, then turned and ran back. She set a small ceramic pot in the mouth of the cave, and hurried away.
The flower glowed luminously against the encircling darkness. I recognized it, and knew.
Cyane
I began to think I’d got it wrong. I had thought Pers was up to something — getting me to drop off that bulb thing, the way she seemed preoccupied a lot of the time, and the way she snapped at me that time. I kept expecting her to say something, to let me in on what was up, but she didn’t.
We went swimming, just like before, and it seemed like things were getting back to normal. After that, whenever she wasn’t up on Olympus, she was helping
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