P. Hoover - Solstice

This just feels off. Terrorist groups normally do the things they do because they think it will help their cause, even if it normally ends up happening in a destructive sort of way. I glance around the council chamber again and wonder where my mom is. Why isn’t she watching this, too?

“What did you tell them?” Morse says.

Toby Garcia looks directly in the cameras, and not an inch of fear shows in his eyes. “I told them to get screwed. That I’d never help their psycho organization.”

When the show cuts to commercial, I get a bathroom pass and leave. I can’t take it anymore. All people are going to do is talk about the terrorist attack anyway. I need answers. My mom’s not home, but I don’t want to hear her lies anyway. Our relationship is built on lies. My blood boils when I think of her. What I need is to find my dad.

I walk out to the breezeway, and when the heat and smoke hit me, I embrace them, letting them soak into me. The heat of the earth is not enough to bother me. I’ve dared the fires of the River Phlegethon and the torments of Tartarus. But it’s still laughable. I don’t know who I am. How can Piper be Persephone?

I head to the concrete bleachers around the soccer field, and even though there’s plenty of shade covering them, I find a spot out in the sun. It burns my legs when I sit, but I force myself to tolerate it. Down below, there’s a man in a baseball cap spreading chalk on the fake grass. Mr. Kaiser’s talked about how fields used to be made from real grass before the Global Heating Crisis, but now they’d never waste water for such an unnecessary purpose.

The man moves in a line, heading away from me. He reaches the end, then turns around, and heads back, a few yards over. When he’s almost done with the line, he looks up at me as if he knows I’ve been watching. And then he waves.

My father. He’s heard me asking for him even though I haven’t uttered a word. I wave back, unsure if I should go meet him.

But he puts up his hand. “I’ll be right up. Just give me a second to finish this line.” His words find their way to me even though he’s far away.

I’ve given him eighteen years; another minute or two shouldn’t matter. So I nod in acknowledgement, and rest my elbows on my knees to wait.

Zeus finishes the line, and then the chalk canister disappears into thin air. He looks at me and smiles and then climbs the bleachers to sit by me.

“Talk about humidity…”

It’s the second time we’ve spoken, and again he starts the conversation by talking about the weather. I want to start it by talking about me. “Who am I, Dad?”

He smiles. “You’re my daughter Persephone.” He grins at me, and it’s so infectious, I want to join in with him. But I resist the urge, instead holding my face as impassive as I possibly can.

I smirk. “Yes, I’ve managed to figure out that much on my own.”

“So what do you need me for?”

“To tell me the rest. To tell me what I don’t know.”

“Like…?”

“Like who is Piper?” It’s an obvious question, but there’s been no obvious answer I can figure out.

“You haven’t talked to your mom yet?” Zeus asks.

“My mom’s been gone all weekend. I thought she might be with you.” And a spark of worry creeps inside me.

“The assembly of gods found out what she did, and they brought her in for questioning. Lots of the gods are unhappy about the last eighteen years.”

“Will she be back?” I ask, not sure what answer I want.

“Eventually,” Zeus says. “But right now it’s just you and me.”

“And by me, do you mean Persephone or Piper?”

Zeus takes off his baseball cap and holds it in his hands. His skin is tanned to a perfect shade of gold contrasting against his platinum hair. “How about both?”

I nod. “That’s a good place to start.”

“You are Persephone.”

“Fine. But I remember the last eighteen years of my life as Piper.”

“That’s because eighteen years ago, your mother did the unspeakable.”

I know what he’s talking about as soon as he says it. “She killed a phoenix.” But I’m still not sure how it relates to me.

Zeus nods. “She sacrificed a phoenix. When Hermes brought you back from the Underworld, she sacrificed a phoenix, and you were reborn as Piper. A brand new baby from the ashes of Persephone and the bird itself.”

The blood drains from my face. I know I’m staring at him, but I can’t get my mind around what he’s saying. “Sacrificed a phoenix?” My tattoo. Sacrifice. The answer has been on my arm this whole time.

“It’s a horrible sin, but one containing the power of rebirth. The bird died, and Persephone died—for a time. But then she came back. As you.”

“So my mother killed the phoenix?”

And my mother killed me.

My mother is the one who belongs in Tartarus.

“She hid you from us. Locked your identity away inside a box crafted by Hephaestus himself.”

A box. My mind flies to the gift I received on my birthday.

Zeus continues. “It wasn’t until the first time September came and you didn’t show up in the Underworld that I realized what she did. Nobody did. But by then it was way too late.”

I blow out a breath slowly, trying to calm my voice and keep it from shaking. “I never went back, did I?”

“No.” Zeus looks up at the sun which is moving behind a cloud. “And autumn never came. Nor did winter.”

The pieces of the truth move together and take shape. “You mean the Global Heating Crisis is entirely because of me?” It doesn’t even sound real.

But Zeus looks at me and chuckles. “Well, of course. If you never go away, then your mother has no reason to make Earth change seasons. It’s year round summer as far as she’s concerned.” He wipes his forehead. “And a year round sauna for everyone else.”

“So you’re saying if I go back to the Underworld, fall and winter will come?” Could it really be that easy?

“Things are pretty out of whack right now,” he says. “It may take a bit of settling. But once all the climactic changes get in order, then yeah. You don’t even have to go back to the Underworld. You just have to reside in the domain of another god where your mom can’t get to you.”

The domain of another god. “Like when I went to visit Shayne?”

Zeus nods. “Exactly. But don’t think you have to be stuck with Hades. Your options are wide open.”

I narrow my eyes. “What do you mean? I love Shayne.”

Zeus rolls his eyes. “Don’t overrate love. I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention you have choices.”

Is my father telling me to sleep around? Or am I totally misinterpreting him? “What choices?”

Zeus flicks his hands. “Well, how about Ares for starters?”

“Reese?”

“Well, sure. He’s my son. He’s a good looking kid. And let’s face it: he’s been pining for you since day one. Seriously, I figured with the arguments he and Hades used to have, we’d be looking at another world war.”

With Ares vying for the Underworld, it seems the next world war may start there.

“He’s a little on the pushy side.” And I realize so, too, is Zeus, king of the gods.

“But he thinks you’re gorgeous. Not to mention, he’s loved you as long as Hades.”

Ares was pushy ages ago. And Ares is pushy now. Not much has changed.

“I just think you should talk to him,” Zeus says. “Maybe when we’re done talking.”

I shake my head. “I don’t have anything to say to him.”

Zeus makes a dismissive gesture with his hands. “Suit yourself. But he’s waiting for you over by the greenhouses just so you know.”

“I’m not interested in Reese,” I say to make sure he’s clear on it. But the thought that Reese is waiting to talk to me right now makes butterflies start moving around in my stomach.