Field Trip

Another week passed. Kore should have started to settle into the familiar routine, sitting beside her friends at mealtimes and working beside Mother in the fields. She should have been grateful to be home, to have put the whole Underworld episode behind her. And she was, she told herself. She really was.

Or, at least, part of her was.

Kore threw herself into the familiar work and tried to enjoy it. She listened to the girls talk about the harvest and new sewing patterns and stories from their lives before the farm. She climbed trees with Theo and smiled as the older girl recounted her midnight rendezvous with Hermes, with enough detail that Kore’s face grew hot and she had to turn away.

Through all of it, Kore told herself she had time to convince Mother to change her mind about the farm. An eternity, in fact, and it wasn’t like Kore had anywhere else to be.

One morning dawned bright and warm. The unusual fall sunshine struck her with the urge to move, and Kore settled with rearranging her spot in the loft. It had been the same as long as she could remember—thin mat, a small trunk for her things, a mess of blankets that Kore liked to pull up to her chin when she slept. Every girl had much the same in their own spots, but Kore set out to make hers all her own anyway.

She’d folded the blankets neatly and settled her pillow in its spot at the top of her mat. Half the contents of her chest spread out across the covers, bits and pieces she’d collected over the centuries. A beaded bracelet Theo had made her. A book mother had given her for a birthday years ago. A dried flower, one of the first she’d ever sprouted from her head.

She reached into the trunk again and came up with the dress and jacket she’d stuffed there after the meeting with Mother and Hades and Zeus. She’d shoved the clothes all the way to the bottom, not wanting any reminders of that day.

Now, a month later, she could admit to herself that the dress really was beautiful. White with pink and orange flowers in big prints, tight around the chest and flared around the hips. The fabric was soft and light. The jacket, too, was well-made and sturdy. Pink like the flowers, even if the shades weren’t exact.

Kore considered offering the set to one of the other girls. She’d be able to trade it for a fortune—two weeks of chores, maybe, or extra helpings at the dinner table forever. Such pretty clothes did not exist on the farm, and the girls had precious little chance to get anything quite like them.

Kore balled the fabric in her hands. She didn’t want any of the other girls to have the clothes. She didn’t want to give up the only thing she had left of the Underworld, the last connection she had to her time below the earth and the man who ruled it all so resolutely.

Something hard pressed against her palm. Kore unbunched the now horribly wrinkled jacket and slipped her fingers into the pocket. A golden coin fell into her hand.

For a moment, Kore didn’t understand. She hadn’t taken any coins from the Underworld, had never even held any in her hands. But she recalled Hades, the way he’d unearthed a hunk of gold with little more than a flick of his fingers. The way he’d practically rammed into her when he’d left Zeus’s office.

Kore scrambled to her feet. She stared at the coin, horror creeping up her throat. Hades had, indeed, given her a way to see him, and she hadn’t known for a month.

Her feet moved before she could think about it. Kore paid no mind to the mess she’d left on her bed, only screamed Theo’s name all the way to the fields. Heads lifted as she went by, but she didn’t care. She couldn’t care.

Kore found Theo bent over a large basket in the artichoke fields. Kore moved so fast she slammed headlong into Theo before she could come to a stop. Both girls stumbled, barely managing to keep their feet.

Theo, understandably, gripped Kore’s shoulders and stared at her in a panic. “Are you hurt? What’s happened?”

Kore gasped. “He—I found—It’s like you said!”

“I can’t understand you when you’re panting like that.”

Kore shoved the coin into Theo’s hand. “It’s from him!”

“Him?” Theo turned the coin over, confusion evident in her cautious movements.

Kore drew close. “Hades,” she whispered. “He gave me a way to see him after all.”

Theo’s face split into the biggest grin Kore had ever seen. “I knew it!”

“What do I do?”

“I don’t know. What do you want to do?”

Kore shook her head. She’d already made her decision on that front. “How do I call him? I don’t know how this works.”

“Oh.” Theo’s smile slipped. “I don’t know, either. Hermes only showed up the once, and he’d somehow gotten a note in my basket. I never even saw him until we met in the woods.”

Kore’s heart beat too fast. She could feel eyes on her, the stares of the others rightfully wondering what in the world was happening. “When are you meeting him again?”

“I…I don’t know that I am. I’m sorry, Kore.”

No. It wouldn’t be over that easily, not if she had anything to say about it.

“I need to be on the supply run this week.”

“Kore…”

“I have to, Theo. It’s already been a month. This can’t wait.”

Theo bit her lip. She glanced at the coin still in her hand. “You think you can talk to your mom, or should I start planning something else?”

“I’ll talk to her. She can’t treat me like a child forever, no matter what she thinks.”

#

Kore knew she had to time it perfectly. She couldn't catch Mother when she first came in from the fields, sweaty and exhausted. She couldn’t try at the dinner table, either, surrounded by other girls talking and laughing and eating. Mother needed to be in control around the others, and she wasn’t likely to listen to Kore with so many other conversations going on.

So Kore waited until the sun dipped below the sky, when the girls settled around the house playing card games, or chatting quietly with one another, or reading the handful of books in the house. Mother had sequestered herself in her office to go over the logbooks, and Kore slipped in behind her, before she could really get absorbed in the work. Better chance she’d be heard that way.

“Good evening, Mother,” Kore greeted as she poked her head around the door.

“Kore.” Mother smiled. “Come to sit with me a while?”

“Yes. Well, kind of. I was hoping we could talk about something.”

Mother settled into her big chair. She motioned for Kore to take the one across from her. “Of course, dear. What’s on your mind?”

Kore had thought about this. She’d written it out and memorized it so she’d be sure to get the words right. “I think it’s time we discussed what my role is going to be here going forward.”

She’d expected Mother to protest, or tell Kore she sounded absurd. What she did not expect was Mother sighing and rubbing her forehead, like a headache pounded there. “I was worried this was coming.”

Kore waited.

Mother traced a finger over a line in the desk, looking older than Kore had seen her in a long time. “I know it must be hard for you, feeling like I’m keeping you here for no reason.”

“I know your reasons.”

Mother smiled softly. “Do you? I haven’t told you much of my past.”

“You told me you came here after the war, and that you didn’t want to see the others anymore.”

“Most of the others,” Mother corrected gently. “Some of them are good.”

“Like Hecate.”

Mother nodded. “Exactly. A Titan who saw the wicked ways of her kin, and joined us in the hopes of a better world.”

Kore tried not to let the confusion show in her expression. “But the others fought with you too. Zeus and Apollo and Ha—Hera.” Kore amended her statement at the last second. She didn’t think bringing Hades up would help her argument. “They aren’t good?”

“You must understand, I don’t blame Zeus and his brothers, necessarily, for what they’ve become. I cannot imagine a childhood such as the one they had.”

Kore thought of the scar Hades had shown her, the pain in his voice as he recounted his past.

“When I had you,” Mother continued, “I promised I would never subject you to such an existence. Perhaps I’ve taken that a little too far, but you must understand how many people—mortal and immortal alike—I’ve seen used by those of us who call ourselves gods. Girls told the sweetest things and discarded, boys sent to their deaths for nothing more than the whim of the Pantheon. Unimaginable wrath brought upon by the most imagined slights, and not only by the Big Three. Athena too, and Aphrodite and Ares. Gods are fickle, and they are not ones to take slights lightly.”

The back of Kore’s neck prickled. “What kind of wrath?”

“Ask some of the girls,” Mother said with a frown. “Many of them are here to avoid such punishments. What would you choose, were it your daughter in question—a life of exile, or an eternity as a spider? Even if it meant you never saw her again, would you deny your child the chance to live her life in safety, to be at peace?”

Kore didn’t know what went on in some of the girls’ heads, but peace seemed far away. She searched instead for something to steer the conversation back the way she intended. “Why did you never tell me this?”

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“You didn’t need that burden.” Mother lifted her head to look at Kore, yellow eyes pained. “Perhaps it was foolish of me to keep you so removed from my own worries. Maybe it is the nature of parenthood to fear for your children, and I will not escape it no matter how protected I make our borders. Still, I cannot stop myself from asking you to remain here, where I can be at peace that you are safe.”

Kore heard the note of desperation in Mother’s voice, pleading for her to understand. She wished she could rise from her chair and retreat to her bed and never want anything more than what Mother had built around her.

But she’d tried. And now a coin hung heavy in her pocket with the promise of so much more.

“Mother,” she said softly. “Maybe it’s wrong, and if it is, I’m sorry. I just…I need more than this.”

A sad smile came to Mother’s lips. “I understand, dear. In a few years, after this business with the Underworld dies down, you can start with the supply runs like you asked.”

“That’s not what you promised,” Kore said, struggling to keep her voice calm. “You told Hades and Zeus I could come and go when I pleased. What happened to that?”

“As if either of them cares what happens here. If they so much as raise their voices in our direction, I will stop the shipments again and leave them to deal with the consequences.”

Revulsion rolled down Kore’s spine. “You can’t mean that. Please, tell me you’d never consider such a thing ever again.”

Kore’s tone, strained and desperate, must have gotten to Mother. She held her hands out. “You’re right. I shouldn’t threaten such things if I don’t mean them. It’s because the thought of anything happening to you is more than I can bear.”

Kore breathed against the boil of anger in her belly. “If I survived the Underworld, fought off an army of the dead and got back to you in one piece, don’t you think I can handle a supply run? The girls do them every week, and nothing happens to them.”

“We’ve been over this, Kore.”

Kore should have backed down. She saw the warning glint in Mother’s eyes, but she couldn’t stop the words streaming from her mouth. “If you tell me again they are worth less than I am, we’re going to have a problem, Mother. That excuse didn’t work last time, and it won’t work now.”

Mother stared, frozen, her mouth open, her arm halfway to reaching for something in her desk. Kore had done it now. She wondered if she could apologize fast enough to avoid a fight, or if it was inevitable.

Instead of screaming, though, Mother leaned back in her chair. She studied Kore for a long moment, and Kore tried not to fidget under the added weight.

Finally, Mother sighed. “One run. I make no other promises. And there will be three of you going this time, not two. If you need anything—”

Kore dove across the table to wrap Mother in a hug. “Thank you, thank you, thank you! We’ll be fine, I promise.”

“I don’t think that’s a promise you can make, dear.” The words were chiding, but the hug Mother returned felt like home.

#

Kore practically bounced in the seat. She’d clicked the seatbelt into place, had rolled down the window, and sat waiting for Theo and Violetta to climb into the truck, too. Mother stood on the drive, lecturing them, and Kore could only imagine the words she had to be laying into them. She would have gotten out and tried to stop it, but she was only likely to make things worse, so she stared out the window and hoped it wouldn’t last too long.

Eventually, a sour-faced Violetta opened the door and motioned Theo through. Theo slid across the old bench seat, landing in the middle beside Kore. Kore opened her mouth to apologize, but Theo just shot her a look and buckled herself in, too.

Violetta went last, shutting the door behind her. She adjusted the wheel to sit comfortably where she could reach it, then she turned the ignition. The big truck roared to life, and before Kore knew it, the wheels turned and the three of them rumbled down the drive.

Transitioning through the barrier was easier in the cab of the truck. Sure, the pressure still bloomed in her chest and spots swam in front of her vision, but the truck moved much faster than she could walk. As soon as she registered the symptoms, they passed.

They emerged onto a paved road. Low wooden fences bordered the blacktop, marking huge swaths of green dotted with four-legged creatures. Sheep, Kore decided as she peered out her window. Big, fluffy sheep who didn’t even turn their heads as the truck rumbled by.

The road approached a fork, and Violetta slowed. Not a fork, really, since Kore counted six different tunnels branching in front of them. Violetta guided them down one road with easy familiarity, not even bothering to ask anyone if it was the correct direction. She’d done it before, Kore guessed. Many times before.

They descended into a false yellow glow cast by lights on the tunnel wall. Kore felt the pressure of another barrier, then daylight broke through the windows and they emerged onto a proper, crowded road.

Cars moved to let them merge onto the road. They came in more shapes and sizes than Kore could have imagined, from large, lifted trucks to tiny two-doors and other many-wheeled giants even bigger than theirs. Kore saw two children in a sleek four-dour, waving tiny arms as they chatted. An older man drove alone behind them, his head back against the headrest and his eyes soft.

Kore pressed against the window to get a better look at all of it, probably making a fool of herself, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. She had never seen so many people in one place, not even in the city of the Underworld.

They drove for hours. The girls shared dried snap peas between them and sang along to the radio when they could get it. Sometimes the sound got lost in crackling static, but they carried on like nothing had happened, and when it came back, they were usually in the right place.

Around midday, they came upon a big complex of long, low buildings set up in a loose cluster. Violetta steered the truck off the exit nearest to them, rolling past a sign that read West Coast Regional Food Processing Plant. They joined a long line of trucks just like them, creeping towards a big set of gates marking the entrance to the plant.

Once they got inside, Violetta pulled out of the line and into a long stall. She turned the truck off and popped her door, glancing over her shoulder. “Welcome to the glamorous life of the supply run.”

Violetta slid out of the truck, followed by Theo. Kore scrambled after them, though she realized after crawling over her seat that she could have gone out the door on her side of the truck.

Pipes and silos and dozens of other pieces of machinery rose around her. Kore turned in a circle, trying to see how far the plant extended. She got lost in the mess of tubes and roofs and who knew what else.

Theo noticed her staring. “Not what you thought it would be?”

Kore could only shake her head.

“We have magic,” Violetta said. “They had to come up with the next best thing.”

A shout stopped Kore from responding. She turned to see two figures emerge from the nearest building, their steps aiming towards the three of them. Both were young men, wearing button-up shirts, ties, and hats that looked hard to the touch. Kore bristled, wondering what they would tell strangers about an enchanted truck holding far more food than it looked like it should.

Violetta, however, smiled and waved. She walked a few steps to meet the newcomers, and held out the keys to the truck. “She’s all yours. Have fun.”

The man twirled the keys in a dazzling flash. “Things are running a bit behind today. We’ll have her back to you in a few hours.”

His companion nodded. “Still picking up the slack from the scare. Try not to do that again, yeah?”

Theo chuckled. She, too, apparently knew these people. “That’s up to Demeter, but we’ll do our best.”

The man holding the keys glanced over his shoulder, even though their party stood alone on the blacktop. The nearest listening ears had to be in the line of trucks idling at the gates, and Kore doubted they could hear anything over the rumble of their engines.

Still, he pitched his voice low when he turned back to them. “Boss is in tonight. You think you’ll be able to stick around?”

Violetta started to answer, but Theo jumped in before she could. “We can’t. Our place has been on lockdown since the incident, and the last thing we want is to give Demeter a reason to freak out again.”

Violetta glared at Theo. Kore could feel the heat in the look even from where she stood.

If the man noticed, he either didn’t notice or didn’t care. “Bummer. Next time, then.”

“Sure.”

They said their goodbyes, then the men climbed into the truck. It rumbled to life, metal squealing as they pulled it around the lot, where Kore lost it behind a building.

“What is going on?” she managed, the only coherent thing she could think to say.

“Theo is a buzzkill,” Violetta muttered.

Theo rolled her eyes. “Come on. Let’s get lunch, and I’ll explain what this place is.”

#

For how big the complex looked, the diner turned out to be a short walk away. Both girls clearly knew their way there, taking shortcuts around the buildings Kore never would have guessed at and walking into the diner like they’d been there a hundred times before.

With how many supply runs Theo had done in the centuries she’d been on the farm, she very well might have passed a hundred.

A woman—human, Kore could tell immediately, looking so different from Violetta and Theo and even the two men who’d taken the truck—sat them at a little table in the corner. She handed them menus and asked if they’d like waters to start, then left them to themselves.

They sat in silence for a long while. Violetta sulked, leaning against the wall and staring at her nails. Theo squinted at her menu like it had been written in a different language. When Kore looked, half the words did indeed sound foreign.

“How much did Demeter give us?” Theo asked.

“More than enough,” Violetta answered. “She’s never been good with money.”

“I’m guessing you didn’t help her on that front.”

Violetta shrugged.

Theo shook her head. “Get whatever you want, Kore. Apparently, we’re rich.”

Kore struggled for an answer. “What do they even have?”

Theo chuckled. She reached sideways to page through Kore’s menu, then pointed to something halfway down. “You’ll like those.”

“Loaded fries?”

“They’re good. Greasy.”

Kore did like greasy food, on the few occasions she’d been allowed to have it. She looked around, at the tabletop that looked like it had been cleaned hastily and the carpeted floors that may or may not ever have seen a vacuum and the red vinyl seating chipped in more places than not.

“So…what are we doing here?” she asked, hating that she had to ask the question.

No one answered her. Kore wished she could already know, the way everyone else seemed to.

Theo looked at Violetta, who still sat ignoring her. “You want to help with this?”

“You’ve been doing the runs a thousand years longer than I have. What would I know?”

Theo blew a long breath out of her nose. She flipped her menu over, where a map declared all the other places in the surrounding area that the same diner could be found. She pointed to the bottom edge, where the end of the paper cut off the drawing of the road. “This is the direction we came from. The entrance to the farm is about three and a half hours in this direction. It used to be that we’d be able to push past the barrier, do our thing, and go home. No need to see anyone or be gone very long. Then the humans started building, and our ability to help them dwindled to almost nothing.”

Violetta snorted. “Right when you think they can’t get any worse.”

Theo glared at her, but continued. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Kore, but our powers don’t work as well in places like these as they do on the farm. Too many breaks in contact. Roads, buildings, cars…all of it makes too much noise.”

Kore hadn’t noticed, and maybe that should have scared her. But then again, her feet hadn’t touched a living thing since she’d left the farm.

“When it became clear we couldn’t help the way we used to, Demeter expanded the farm, and had us focus our efforts there instead. We enchanted the truck to hold more, and decided to rotate the shipments around the continents to be sure there’s enough to go around.”

“Tell that to all the famines currently happening.”

“Not helpful, Violetta.”

“I’m just saying!”

Theo turned back to Kore, her eyes burning now. “It’s not perfect. Clearly. We can’t be everywhere at once, but we can try.”

Kore nodded slowly. Her brain felt full. “And the men at the plant?”

“Demeter isn’t the only immortal mandated with the harvest,” Theo said. “Rumor is they used to work for Cronus before the war, but I don’t know for certain. Dionysus has been in charge since I’ve known the place, though he has a…hands-off approach. The humans run it well enough anyway, provided we can sneak our shipments in without them noticing.”

Violetta uncurled herself from the corner to lean over the table. “And the big man himself is actually in town for once, which means we’re missing one banger of a party.”

Theo snorted. “I’m not too upset. Those parties get way too crazy, anyway.”

“What?” Kore snapped out of her pondering. “You’ve been?”

Guilt washed over Theo’s expression. “I—I mean—only a few times.”

“And you never told me?”

“You were already so down about not leaving the farm. I didn’t want to make you feel even more left out.”

“Good job,” Kore spat. “I’m feeling so included now.”

Violetta grinned, reminding Kore of a cat. “Maybe we should take her out. Show her a good time.”

“Violetta, don’t. Demeter would kill us.”

“She wouldn’t have to know.”

“Like she wouldn’t find out.”

Kore blew an exasperated sigh. “What will it take for people to ask what I want instead of what my mother wants for me?”

“Kore…”

“I want to go,” Kore said, pushing a confidence in her voice she told herself she definitely felt. She pulled the gold coin from her pocket, turning it in her fingers. “Where else am I going to find someone who knows how this works?”

Theo bit her lip. She looked at Kore for a long time before letting the fight leech out of her. She reached for the bag of supplies they’d brought with them, coming up with a black rectangle. She slid her finger across to open it.

Kore remembered the same one in Hades’s hands, his expression when he asked what her mother’s number was.

“Theo?” Kore asked, her voice too thin.

Theo looked up in alarm. “What’s wrong?”

“What are you doing?”

“Texting your mom. If we’re going to go to a party, we should tell her we got a flat tire, so she doesn’t freak out when we’re a few hours late. We’ve done it before, and it works fine.”

“How long have we had cell phones?”

Theo shrugged. “A decade? Demeter only gives them out for supply runs, so we can get in contact with her if anything happens. We have to give them back as soon as we get back to the farm.”

Kore’s head hit the table hard enough to make the silverware clatter.