The moans of unremitting misery rose from countless throats, at times drowned by the screams of horror, the imprecations against Pluto and all his minions. Persephone cowered at the sounds, pressed palms to her ears, to no avail.
Pluto sighed, rose slowly. Sad-eyed he gazed upon the woman child by his side. Why had he brought her here? Though his, she would never be his. Though loved, she would never love. What a fool, to have stolen her from Ceres! And yet, he would not exist without her.
God, ruler of the nether world. Then why the sadness, why the remorse?
Pluto sighed.
Dunes gave way to wasteland, sand strewn with stones. And this in time to regions where grew sparse vegetation, small trees. Soon copses of thorn trees rose. And beyond, shimmering as an illusion, dark hills faintly seen.
Though his companion strode seemingly without effort through sand and stone Demo grew ever more weary. And even as the sun neared the horizon and a light breeze tokened cooler air he paused, exhausted.
His companion eyed him suspiciously, once more walked in a wide circle around him. "Uhmm, sit. The river is beyond. We shall sleep here this night. And tomorrow we shall know your fate. Here."
He was offered dried food, a mixture of fruit and nut and meat. There was little taste, but at least sustenance. "I need water," he breathed.
"No. Tomorrow there shall be water. Here there is none. Sleep now. When the moon rises we shall move on. Over there." He motioned toward a slight rise between dark boulders and above one of the scattered termite hills.
Demo lay down, shivering in the air, rapidly cooling with the setting sun. The sandy earth, still warm from the sun's rays, was welcome. And he fell rapidly into a strange sleep broken by even stranger dreams.