Then it rises from the deepest, coldest depths. Pluto!
Pluto swims slowly, uncertainly, moving toward the shore where Demo now sits. Demo rises, defiant. A broken sword from some ancient war, lay on the ground, and he seizes it in desperation.
And then he remembers. The broken sword of the warrior! Unsullied by its mishap, the broken blade still shines. Holding the weapon in his hand he waits on the shore, watches the tumultuous waters of the tarn.
Even in his torture, Pluto swims in desperate search for
Persephone. But the dark green waters hide their prey.
And then he sees her!
Quickly, thrashing his way to the drowning girl, Pluto dives beneath the murky depths. He lifts her from the water's deadly embrace. Cradled in Pluto's arms, her face white above the dark surface, she seems more dead than living. Thrashing the deadly waves Pluto brings her to the shore.
Demo raises the broken sword high, waiting!
Pluto stalks onto the shore carrying her like a doll, gently, in his huge arms. Turning to Demo, Pluto growls in the angry voice he could not renounce, "Save her." He lays her softly on the ground, lays her gently on the sandy beach.
Throwing aside the sword Demo falls to his knees beside the child.
Demo turns her on her stomach , ministers to her. And finally he is rewarded by the slightest movement, a sign of life. Soon she begins to cough, to breathe.