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“Persephone is the key,” Dad's voice crackles. “Persephone can lead you to what you seek.” His eyes are fixed on me.
“You are useless you old malaka!” The gold shouts off a string of curses. “You know as well as I that I'm looking for her already. Tracking her down through you. This is why we’re here now!”
Dad was never a violent person. Not even when people inexplicably hurt him. But his haunting stare is seared into my mind forever.
A gaze full of fury.
Anger.
Rubbing my eyes, I blink rapidly. Am I losing my mind? Did someone slip me ambrosia?
“Find her,” he whimpered.
Scrunching my eyes, I focus on dad.
His mouth remains shut as he whispers, “Beware of the Old Ones. If he finds Persephone… Find her before they do.” Dad’s voice trails off in my mind.
He watches me, soaking me in before turning to the god. Dad shouts, “Even if I did truly have an heir, I would never jeopardize an innocent person’s life. Rot in Tartarus!”
The god hisses at dad,
His eyes flash back to me. “Beware.”
A flash of blinding light. She jolts in her seat. Tumbling to the snow laden ground, I grip the frozen water in my hands. Feeling delighted by the feel of the ice.
Find Persephone.
That is probably the last thing that I would like to do.
What would Apollo do if the goddess return?
But for Dad… I need to.
“What’s going on my dear?” Uncle Ov's eyes are full of concern.
The hound watches me. Leaning back down, I scratch behind his ears tentatively.
What’s going on?
Am I going crazy.
Tension didn’t leave my shoulders, “My bad, I think I got lost in my thoughts. What were you saying?”
Crunch.
Looking down at the source of the noise, I observe a clump of snow under the heel of my leather sandal. Impossible. Blinking my eyes, I wonder if I'm dreaming. Though I'm awake, I watch the snow melt under my heel. When we’re easily 65 degrees. By no means is the weather hospitable enough for the frigid snow.
It was real. It had to have been. My visions weren’t supposed to be something that affects me outside of the dream. Sure, someone could come up and grab me in the dream, but they couldn’t follow me.
But this snow felt different.
Acting as casually as possible, I trace my finger around my glass of tea. "Have you heard of mortals having visions when they cross the Veil?" Taking a sip of my drink, I try to casually observe him while at the same time also trying to not look so interested in his answer.
Uncle Ov’s hound whines quietly from underneath the table. I jump slightly. I would have sworn he was still under the tree. As though giving a warning. "Not that I can think of.” Ov asks as he contemplated the unusual question, “What in Gaia would have prompted that?" Raising an eyebrow, Uncle watches closely. Face full of curiosity.
I have said too much.
The golden dog stretches and escapes from under the garden table. The large russet hound rests his head on my arm rest. Sad eyes watch me. Scratching the head of a beautiful dog, I smile down at the pet.
