“If everyone will sit, we will get started,” a tall, thin woman with red, curly hair says. I assume she must be Ms. Leeds, despite the leopard-print miniskirt she’s wearing.
I turn my back to Haden and slip into my seat.
“I trust last night’s events did not prevent anyone from finishing the reading.”
I pull out the iPad Marta had presented me with yesterday afternoon—she said it was preloaded with all of the books I might possibly need at OHH—as a collective groan echoes through the classroom. I would have joined in if I hadn’t turned to studying in an attempt to lull myself to sleep at three this morning. I ended up reading a third of the book before my alarm clock went off. It was either that or call Jonathan again, and I didn’t think he’d appreciate that.
Ms. Leeds makes a tsking noise. “I was hoping now that Mr. Morgan has announced the subject of the school musical, your interest in our Greek mythology unit would have heightened. Mr. Morgan tells me you will be focusing on the story of Orpheus, the tale of the great musician who traveled to the underworld to bring back his wife, Eurydice, from the dead. It’s an interesting story, but I thought we might back things up a bit and study some of the earlier myths of the underworld before revisiting Orpheus. Mr. Morgan will be very pleased if those of you in the music and theatre tracks actually have a clue of what it is you’re singing about.”
Lexie sits at greater attention as Ms. Leeds opens her notes and sets them on a podium. She’s dedicated, I’ll give her that.
“Now, who here knows who Persephone is?”
Lexie and I both raise our hands at the same time.
“Ah, we get to hear from one of our new students. Daphne, yes?” Ms. Leeds says to me.
I nod.
“Enlighten us with your knowledge, Daphne.” Lexie lowers her hand.
“Persephone was the goddess of springtime. She lived on earth with her mother, Demeter, until she was kidnapped by Hades and forced to go to the underworld to live with him. Her mother, who happened to be the goddess of the harvest, wanted her back, and caused a big famine until Zeus told his brother Hades that he had to send Persephone home. Hades, being an evil jerk, tricked Persephone into eating six pomegranate seeds, which meant she was now tied to the underworld for six months out of the year. That is supposedly where the seasons of the year come from. Spring and summer are beautiful and lush because Demeter was happy that her daughter was with her, and fall and winter are crappy because that’s when Demeter was sad, because Persephone was forced to be in the underworld with Hades during those months.”
“Colorful interpretation of the story,” Ms. Leeds says. “Though I find it interesting that you refer to Hades as being an ‘evil jerk.’ Why do you say this?”
“He’s the devil, isn’t he? Keeper of hell and all that.”
“No,” Ms. Leeds says. “While most scholars agree that the idea of Hades may have been the precursor to the medieval Christian concept of the devil, they were actually quite different.”
“But they both like dead people!” Bridgette says enthusiastically.
I can hear the eye roll coming off Lexie.
“Yes. True … somewhat,” Ms. Leeds says. “They are both the keepers of the souls of the dead. However, the Christian devil is traditionally known to claim only the souls of sinners, while Hades was believed to oversee all of the dead, whether they were good or bad.”
Bridgette nods as if that’s what she’d meant to say all along.
“It is also interesting to note that Hades was not only the god of the underworld, but he was also believed to be the god of wealth. As gold, jewels, and other precious metals come from beneath the Earth—which was believed to be the location of Hades’s realm. Many people would pray to Hades and make bargains with him in exchange for wealth and power. Some scholars think this may have been where the concept of ‘selling your soul to the devil’ arose in Christian beliefs. But what about the symbolism of these two figures?” Ms. Leeds asks, looking at Bridgette. “The Christian devil is widely accepted as the embodiment of evil—a fallen angel. But what about Hades? Is he a figure of evil in the Greek mythos?”
Bridgette shrugs.
“Anyone else?” the teacher asks.
Lexie and I raise our hands at the same time again.
“Daphne, since you brought up the subject, I’d like to hear more of your thoughts.”
I can hear the frustration wafting off Lexie, but I go ahead and answer. “I think he is supposed to be a symbol for evil. The myth of Persephone clearly shows that.…”
“I beg to differ,” says someone from the back of the room. I’m certain I’ve heard his voice before—even if there’s no hint of his strange accent now.
“Ah, our other new student,” Ms. Leeds says, with a little clap of her hands. “I’m sorry, I should have started class with introductions. Haden Lord, stand up so everyone can see you.”
Haden stands. There’s one thing about him that isn’t different from the grove. He’s tall. At least six feet four. I’m not the only one who takes in a quick breath at the sight of him standing there.
“Sweet mother of hotness,” Lexie whispers from the desk in front of mine. This must be the first time she’s noticed him.
“I don’t believe Hades was evil at all,” Haden says. “He was purely a man—or god, actually—who was assigned a difficult destiny.” He looks at me for the first time since I entered the classroom. His eyebrows arch, but I can’t tell if it’s a look of recognition or not. His eyes are still jade green but not bright like before, and I can’t tell if his pupils are surrounded by amber fire rings from where I sit. “Being the keeper of the underworld doesn’t make him evil. Somebody has to do it.”
“No. But being a kidnapper and a rapist does.” I raise my eyebrows right back at him. “I mean, there Persephone was, minding her own business, picking flowers, when all of a sudden Hades bursts out of the ground in a flaming chariot and grabs her. I mean, you can’t just go around grabbing people. That’s not okay.” I narrow my eyes, challenging him. “What kind of person does that?”
Haden glowers right back at me. “Maybe he didn’t see any other options at the moment.”
“Hades is a tool. He obviously couldn’t find a girl to love him, so he just thought he’d steal himself one. There wouldn’t be a story about him being a rapist if people didn’t think he was evil.”
“Rape didn’t have anything to do with it,” Haden says in a tone that seems defensive to me. “Her father—Zeus himself—had already agreed to let Hades have her, and according to tradition, taking a woman by chariot from her home to yours is part of the ancient Greek wedding ceremony.” He sits down. He wears a long-sleeved, gray shirt with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows. It bothers me that I notice the muscles flexing as he crosses his arms in front of his chest.
I shake my head. “How can you say that? He took the girl by force and made her his bride. The book calls the myth the Rape of Persephone for a reason.”
“But there are earlier translations of the story than the one cited in the text.” Haden waves his muscular hand. “Maybe Persephone, a virgin”—he winks at me—“went willingly into the underworld in order to explore her own sexual desires.” He smirks and leans back in his chair with his arms crossed. I’m sure my face goes white before heat floods my cheeks, but I refuse to turn away from his gaze.
“Well. I’m glad to see at least two of my students have a passion for this subject,” Ms. Leeds says. I can see her pretending to fan herself out of the corner of my eye.
My cheeks burn hotter as Lexie and her friends snigger at us.
“Be careful or I’ll assign you two to write a term paper together. I am known for my matchmaking skills, after all.”