“Er…is something wrong?” I ask. What a total moron I am. Of course there’s something wrong, she’s crying her bloody eyes out.
“Oh, no,” she sniffles. We both know she’s fibbing, so I merely wait it out until she breaks.
“It’s my mother…she won’t let me do anything but help her harvest. I don’t think she realizes I’m a full grown goddess already. And I hate harvesting wheat while she runs off and goes to the Council of Olympus. She even got me a satyr babysitter, for Zeus’s sake!” She pointed over to the edge of the meadow. A satyr was lounging there, aimlessly playing his crude pipes.
“Ah, well…that is indeed a problem,” I say awkwardly. “Um…is there anything I could do?”
She smiled coyly up through her eyelashes. “I was hoping you would ask that. Will you let me escape to the Underworld?”

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