Dreamless

illusion of a gentle breeze.
    Helen brushed close to a cluster of what she thought were lilacs, and caught her breath in shock when she felt them. Leaning in close to inspect the cluster, Helen saw that they were actually purple jewels, delicately carved and threaded together to create near-perfect replicas of real flowers. On closer inspection, Helen saw that the leaves were not real either, but spun out of silken threads. Nothing was real. Nothing grew here.
    “So beautiful,” Orion said under his breath.
    At first, Helen thought he was talking about the flower-shaped jewels, but when she glanced over at him she saw that he was looking down the path at the most elegant woman Helen had ever seen.
    She was almost six feet tall, graceful as a swan, with skin such a deep shade of black it was nearly blue. She didn’t look that much older than Helen, but there was something about the way she moved, patient and precise, that made her seem much older. Her long neck was wrapped in ropes of huge, sparkling diamonds that were, quite frankly, put to shame by the size and luster of her eyes. On top of her glossy, knee-length hair was a tiered crown made of every type of gem that Helen could name, and quite a few she couldn’t. She wore a gown of fragrant, living rose petals that glistened with dew. The petals were white at the top and then deepened in shade to blushing pink and then darker still, until her feet seemed surrounded in a cloud of rich, red roses.
    Under her bare feet, which twinkled with many toe-rings, a never-ending carpet of wildflowers budded, bloomed, and then withered. Every step she took caused a flood of flowers to spring to life, only to shrivel and die as soon as they touched the barren soil of the Underworld. It was like watching hundreds of gorgeous flowers throwing themselves off a cliff like lemmings, and Helen wanted it to stop.
    “Awful, isn’t it?” Persephone said in her musical voice as she looked down at the dying flowers beneath her feet. “My essence creates them, but in the Underworld I don’t have the power to sustain them. No flower can survive down here for long.”
    She looked directly at Helen as she spoke, her eyes communicating more meaning than her words. She knows I’m dying, Helen thought.
    Helen glanced quickly over to Orion, who seemed oblivious to the silent girl-talk. Helen smiled at the queen, conveying her gratitude. She didn’t want Orion to know that she didn’t have much longer. If he knew she was dying, he might change the way he acted toward her.
    As if obeying a time-honored protocol, Orion stepped forward and inclined his head and shoulders in a respectful bow.
    “Lady Persephone, Queen of Hades, we come to beg a favor,” he said in a formal voice. It sounded strange, but right for the situation. Helen was surprised to realize that, like the Delos kids, Orion had been raised as a Scion, and he could easily switch between modern slang and old-world manners.
    “May we join you?” he asked.
    “Come, sit, and be welcome,” she said, gesturing to an onyx bench by the side of the path. “For you are welcome here in my garden if nowhere else, young Heir of two enemy Houses.” She performed such a smooth curtsy that it would have put a prima ballerina to shame.
    Orion’s mouth tightened. At first, Helen thought it was in anger for bringing up his less-than-ideal childhood, but as she looked closer she realized that it was because he was overwhelmed with emotion.
    Helen finally understood something about Orion that she hadn’t fully grasped before. Orion had never been accepted by anyone. Half of his family hated him because he hadn’t been left to die on a mountainside, and the other half hated him because the Furies compelled them to. His mother was dead, and the mere sight of him sent his father into a Fury-induced rage. Apart from Daphne, who had an ulterior motive for everything she did, had any Scion ever invited Orion to actually sit next to them with such kindness?
    Studying Orion’s serious expression, Helen sensed that the only place he had ever been formally welcomed into a Scion’s presence was right here, right now, by Persephone.
    He’s only welcome in hell , Helen thought. It made her chest ache to even consider the notion.
    Realizing that Helen was standing there gawking, Persephone extended a hand, generously inviting her to join them on the bench.
    Helen blushed and bobbed her head in an awkward way. She’d been caught spacing out