The first death was painful, a burning sensation engulfing her entire being, as though she were attempting to breathe inside a pool of acid. The second death, when her husband laid eyes on her ghostly form, was painless, like blowing out a candlestick, but the inner agony of watching her husband collapse on the steps to the land of the living in sobs was worse than any death she had experienced before.
Orpheus stumbled back into the world of the living, practically crawling as he cried until he retched. She felt herself falling backwards, deeper into the Underworld. She tried to reach out for him, to call his name, but to no avail.
"It's not his time, Eurydice," said a voice from behind her.
She turned, a dizzying sensation she was not accustomed to in her new Shade form.
"What do you mean?" Eurydice asked the speaker.
It was Persephone, who she was all too familiar with now. Her black curly hair stuck out in strange angles beneath her gilded diadem, a blackened crown with sinister red jewels interwoven with dead flowers. Despite being a goddess, she wasn't tall, as Eurydice always expected goddesses to be, but rather, petite and rather curvy, her chiton straining against her breasts and hips. When the low lights of the stairwell hit, it looked as though souls were trapped inside the fabric, moving and trying to break free.
"Walk with me," Persephone replied without answering Eurydice's question. She held out her arm.
Eurydice hesitantly linked arms with the dark queen. She knew better than to say no to Persephone. Her anger far rivaled her husband's.
"Where are we going?" Eurydice finally decided to ask.
"My garden," Persephone replied. She always had a high, almost singsong voice. It reminded Eurydice of birds or other springtime creatures, which was odd given her darkened appearance.
"What's in your garden?"
Persephone's lips curled in a smirk. "Plenty of things. Food, since you're to stay here now. Flowers. Benches. My nymph attendants."
"Oh." Eurydice's mind whirred with questions, but asking them felt unwelcome. Persephone was a goddess, after all, and Eurydice a dead mortal.
"You need not mourn your useless husband," Persephone said.
Eurydice winced. "He wasn't useless."
"Most men are," Persephone sighed. "My husband is kind. Too kind. And yours had a good heart with little brainpower to back it up."
Eurydice frowned. "That's a bit mean, don't you think?"
Persephone shrugged. "The way I see it, he was given the greatest opportunity in the world, and he failed. He is an embarrassment, and you can do far better."
"Do better? What could I do? I won't see my husband until he dies."
Persephone pursed her lips and hummed in thought. She really was beautiful, Eurydice admitted to herself, but in a terrifying way. She wondered what it would be like to touch her lips, but perished the thought. She would wait for Orpheus.
They had arrived at the garden then, and Persephone opened the gate for her. Eurydice's breath caught.
It looked to be the only living place in the Underworld. Plants, exotic and colorful, climbed the cavernous walls. Nymphs played their lyres and sang to the trees, making them blossom, drop fruit, and immediately wither.
Persephone picked a few flowers as Eurydice watched the scenery, wondering where the sunlight in the underground was coming from. Before she could ask, though, Persephone approached her with a crown of roses.
"To your husband, you were a beautiful instrument. But to me, you are a queen." And she rested the roses atop her head.
Eurydice blinked. "A...a queen?" She couldn't believe it. Persephone, the Bringer of Death, the Goddess of Spring, the Queen of the Underworld, was calling her a
queen
