“Have the lessons from yesterday’s field trip reached you yet?” he asked, smiling politely.

“More than I care to process,” she thought, still upset about the musts and the have to’s, but she answered in the same good mannered vein. “A few, I’m still analyzing them.”

“Just remember, before we go through door number three, that not every rule is there to be broken, but it helps, every now and then, to question your assumptions. It seems fitting, since we are on this subject, and given that all of these doors look more or less the same, to remind you of a rule that you shouldn’t be breaking. Do you remember what I warned you about during our first encounter?”

“Don’t go through door number eight,” she recited, trying very hard to suppress an eye roll.

“You say that, but you don’t believe it, not in your heart, anyway,” he probed her with a sharp gaze, and then, not finding what he was looking for, continued, slightly disappointed. “Anyway, ready when you are,” he took a bow, pointing towards the door.

“What’s through there?”

“You.”

“I have to ponder this rationally,” Taylor thought and quickly put together a plan to address the current situation. Whether it was real or not, she figured all of this weird stuff kept happening to her around four o’clock, and if she managed to avoid her haunting ghost, hallucination, prankster or whatever he was around that time of day she should be fine. Since the thought of locking herself in the women’s restroom for an hour sounded a little bit like overkill, she moved to the next best option, which was spending every single second in Christine’s company.

First, she wanted to assess whether Christine could see her “ghost”, or if he was a hallucination of her stressed out mind, and second, she was kind of hoping that a public setting would deter future kidnapping attempts.

Taylor woke up and got ready for classes, as if nothing had happened the day before, trying to avoid looking at the door, somewhat uneasy with the thought that if she did, she might not see it there anymore. The first day was filled with the trepidation of adjusting to new settings and finding her way through the maze of buildings and hallways, and in all the excitement she almost forgot about the “class” that was supposed to start at four. She hadn’t had anything to eat the whole day and stopped almost without thinking at the cafeteria for a quick bite.

“Taylor? Taylor Bradford?” a voice called from behind the counter, with non-dissimulated boredom.

Taylor fumbled with the paperwork and rushed to the counter to finish registering for classes before the four o’clock deadline. The clerk handled the documents absentmindedly, while she watched the clock and switched to a more leisurely mindset in anticipation of the get together she had planned with her friends later at the bar on the campus corner.

Taylor walked out the door thirty seconds after four, trying to avoid the clerk’s resentful glare and careful not to slam the door behind her. She was a shy person and, even if she didn’t want to admit it, she found this whole situation of being on her own a little overwhelming.

“Persephone, darling! What a joy to have you back home!”

Demeter welcomed her daughter effusively at the mouth of the cave of Cumae and presented her with the traditional sheaf of barley.

The oracle of Cumae bowed deeply to both goddesses, concealing a resentful glare, while Demeter performed a critical assessment of her daughter, staring her up and down in search of things that required attention.

“You look thinner, Persephone. Are you sure you’re eating enough in the underworld? I am concerned.”

“I’m exactly the same, mother. As you well know, we never change.”

“No worries. We’ll make sure to feed you properly as soon as we reach Olympus. I’ve made you a list of tasks, just to get you started on your duties. Dionysus wants to talk to you. Make time for a meeting with him as soon as feasible, will you?”

Persephone was careful about lifting her torch, to avoid scorching the healthy roots which poked through the vault of the cave, drawn by the sound of the small stream running through it. Plants can hear water from great distances.

Plants can hear water from great distances and extend roots to capture it. They are a lot more sophisticated than people know.

A delicate root tracery was covering the entire vault, surrounding the larger tap roots, which found themselves mimicking stalactites, and growing in thin air, no doubt managing to absorb the water droplets generated by the feisty little brook.

She couldn’t help imagine what a thicket this place became in the summer, when the root systems expanded to fill the entire cave. She was surprised to realize she never gave any thought to what was happening in Hades while she was gone; how different it was from the lovely winter home, which always welcomed her in pristine and splendid glory.

As spring approached, Persephone started getting restless.

She was startled from her sleep, shaken by the feeling she forgot something important, whose absence had consequences which were now piling up out of sight.

Her daydreaming trips to the gardens got shorter, as she spent more and more time with Hecate preparing for her trip.

Most of the hard work of spring was happening underground, quietly. While the dirt was still frozen, the seeds already started their labor of sprouting, and the old roots were patiently rebuilding their aerial parts.

The dark earth concealed this fierce struggle towards the light, which lasted for months before being rewarded with results.

All people ever saw was the miracle of spring, nature bursting suddenly back to life, happening incredibly fast, while Persephone, who looked young and delicate, like she’d never seen a day of work in her life, seemed too unlikely to be its enabler.

Hades always felt empty after Persephone saw the returning souls off into the world. To allay her sadness, she went to the Hall of Scrolls, to reread what the Moirae had in store for them.

Hades’s palace was vast, and not many people knew that, because very few had been allowed past the sumptuous rooms at the front, which were intended for receiving visitors.

It had libraries and vaults, salons and dining halls, and since his marriage with Persephone, interior gardens.

Since Hades didn’t have weather, half of the spaces were open to the outdoors, facing colonnades and atria, fountains of living waters and magical trees.

Everything had spirit in the Underworld, and Persephone often lost track of time talking to the trees in the open courtyards, or the flowers in her daffodil garden.

The latter was a gift from Hades, who worried she might miss the meadows of her maiden days, a garden bursting with daffodils perpetually in bloom.