She was falling. Again. Meg had her arms out in front of her, flailing as she struggled to grab hold of anything to keep her from plummeting dozens of stories to her death. She felt her hand hit something hard and she grabbed on, her body slamming against the rocky surface.

Ow, she thought, all the wind knocked out of her as she dangled by one arm off the edge of the staircase. She looked up, half expecting Hades to come roaring after her. Strangely, the god didn’t appear, but she wasn’t about to complain.

Panting, she grabbed hold of the ledge with her other hand and winced through the pain, pulling herself up to the steps to shimmy back onto the stairs. She needed to get going before Hades realized his mistake.

Taking the stairs two at a time again, Meg rounded corners fast, not paying attention to the number of levels she was ascending. She passed the floor with the bizarre lift contraption, bypassed the hot-zone turnoff to Tartarus with its unbearable screams, and kept moving, praying Hades was so busy with the Fates he’d forgotten all about her. Where was Asphodel Meadows already? She needed to get lost in that level fast.

She’d never been to that part of the Underworld before. No one went to Tartarus by choice, but she had visited Elysium one time when Hades made her deliver a message to Achilles for him. Elysium was like one large party—the finest food, the perfect weather, homes as large as Greek temples, and endless laughter. All they seemed to do was sit around all day and tell their hero war stories. Meg almost had to wonder if they remembered they were dead.

She had caught sight of Asphodel Meadows once, and at the time it had reminded her a lot of Earth—on the outside it was perfectly lovely, but upon closer inspection, things were definitely flawed. Maybe that’s why Hades barely bothered with the souls there. If there was ever a place to get lost, it was in the Meadows.

Meg took another turn, and that was when she finally saw the sign carved into the rock:

THE MIDDLE: ASPHODEL MEADOWS

Meg moved to the door fast and turned the knob. It was unlocked. She took a deep breath and slipped inside.

At first glance, it looked like she’d stepped into the village where she’d spent the first few years of her life before her father had left. There was a square surrounded by small buildings, all quite plain, but nicely kept. Small flower boxes dotted the windows, each box containing strangely just one flower. There were the sounds of hammering in the distance and of birds chirping incessantly, even though none were in sight.

Meg tugged at her dress. The air was muggier here than it had been in the stairwell—not hot, not exactly cold, just a bit warm. The sky was filled with a smattering of clouds that kept passing the sun, as if the weather couldn’t decide what it wanted to do for the day. She moved into the village, walking over patches of green grass that had a few dead spots in it. Other than the hammering and the birds, she didn’t hear anything, and she didn’t see a soul.

Is this the right place? she wondered. Souls do live here, don’t they?

Finally, she heard talking and turned around. A group of women was walking toward her dressed in chitons and robes in various shades of tan. One wore a wrap on her head, reminding Meg of someone.

She felt a sudden pang. Mother.

Thea had to be here somewhere. Meg knew that from her digging last time she was in the Underworld. Of course, back then Hades had blocked Meg’s mother from knowing Meg was there so Thea wouldn’t try to find her daughter. But this time, she wasn’t sure if Hades had thought to place a veil over Thea. Did that mean Thea had been able to learn of her arrival like other next of kin souls did when someone entered the Underworld? Would she look for the daughter she hadn’t seen in almost two decades? Meg’s heart gave a lurch. Was there time to even try to…No. Phil had been clear—stick to the quest. That being said, if Meg and her mother crossed paths in Asphodel Meadows, she knew she wouldn’t be able to just walk away. There was so much she wanted to say.

If only she had more time. The breeze picked up and Meg felt her hand go to the satchel. She pulled out the hourglass and looked at it with dismay. It was almost two-thirds full. How could that be? Hadn’t she just arrived in the Underworld hours ago?

Time moves differently down here, she reminded herself. And I’m running out of it. She had to focus on the task at hand.

Meg looked at the women again, their nameless faces coming straight toward her. She stepped into their path. They were talking hurriedly, and one was laughing. It was good to know people in the Underworld still smiled.

“Excuse me,” Meg interrupted them. “Do any of you know Katerina?”

They stopped short. “I’m sorry, love. Katerina who?” one asked.

How silly of me. There must be thousands of Katerinas here. “Katerina Dimas,” Meg clarified.

The women looked at one another and shrugged. “Sorry, dear. We don’t know anyone with that name,” said one with gray eyes.

“Are you new here, dear?” asked one with a scarf wrapped around her head. “You speak rather loud for the dead.”

“And your gown is purple,” said the shortest, sounding wistful. “Oh, how I miss wearing vibrant colors. These tan gowns are quite dull.”

“And never fit exactly right,” said the first woman. “Mine is just an inch too long.”

“While mine is a bit loose around the waist,” said the one in the scarf.

“That’s from a lack of overeating,” said the short one. She looked at Meg. “We eat well here, not to worry, but it always feels as if we could go for one more bite, you know?”

“Or an extra sip of wine,” said the gray-eyed one with a sigh. “The glass is never entirely full.”

“But it could be worse,” the short one reminded her. “We could be roasting.”

“So true,” they all agreed.

“You look lively, dear,” said the one with the scarf. “Your skin is still glowing.”

Meg knew she couldn’t say she was alive. That would certainly cause a commotion in the Underworld that she didn’t need. Hades would find her in seconds. “That’s because you’re right. I’m new.”

“That explains it,” said the tallest to the others. “Then you’re in the wrong place, dear. You’d be with the new recruits. That’s in the Evergreen, south of here.”

“What?” Meg asked as the sound of hammering increased.

The one in a scarf huffed. “I swear, that construction is around the clock! I’m so tired of hammering!”

“And birds!” said the first woman.

“And bees,” said the second. “But they beat the hammering. So many people moving in, the construction is never-ending. Such a headache.”

“I said, go south to the Evergreen,” the tallest repeated, speaking loudly and enunciating to be heard over the hammering.

“How do I get there?” Meg shouted.

“Follow the path,” said the shortest. “But hurry. The welcome party is only a few hours a day, and you don’t want to miss it—all your relatives are usually there waiting.”

“It’s so much fun!” said the short one.

“And the one time you’ll find the wine flowing freely,” said the one with gray eyes wistfully.

“What is your name, in case anyone we know inquires about your whereabouts?” asked the tallest woman. “Word travels fast when a loved one arrives.”

Meg hesitated as the clouds passed over the sun again. “Megara Egan,” she said softly. “Daughter of Thea.”

“Thea,” one said, her eyes widening. “I think I once met a Thea with a daughter. If I see her, I will let her know where to find you!”

“Thank you!” Meg said, wishing more than anything she could stay and look for her mother herself. That’s not why you’re here, she reminded herself. Keep to the quest.

She hurried down the path, walking for what felt like an eternity, passing village after village that looked identical to the first she’d arrived in. They all had various names that sounded vaguely alike with buildings labeled things like ASPHODEL B-1,000. She wondered yet again which one could possibly be her mother’s.

At least now she saw people outside. Some were sitting on blankets chatting. Others were taking walks or playing musical instruments. She heard laughter and singing. People genuinely seemed content, although there was the occasional complaint to be heard about the mugginess of the air, or the hammering, or even the abundant bird population.

“What lovely coloring you have!” remarked a woman on a walk with her husband. “It’s almost as if you’re still alive!”

“Don’t be silly,” snapped her husband, giving Meg a look. “Why would the living want to come here?”

Meg smiled uneasily. It wouldn’t be long before someone alerted the powers that be that a mortal was in their midst. Meg quickened her pace when she saw a meadow peek out over the next hilltop. As she got closer, the sun seemed to pull away from the clouds and the grass under her feet turned a bright green. She heard definite sounds of a party in the distance and quickened her pace. The air started to smell sweeter. Were those apricots she smelled? Or figs?

And there were trees again! She hadn’t realized how much she missed them till she saw them growing there along the path. They had perfect little green leaves and flowers budding on branches. And at the side of the road was a woman kneeling over a garden tending to a bed of hydrangeas blooming in rich fuchsias, blues, and whites.

“Those are gorgeous!” Meg said in surprise. They were the most colorful things she’d seen in the Underworld and the vibrancy warmed her heart for a moment. “I can’t believe anything like that grows down here!”

The woman looked up at her and smiled, her eyes dark yet warm. “Thanks. I wasn’t sure if it was possible myself, but with deep rooting and some good soil, it seems any-thing is.”

“You planted these?” Meg said in awe.

The woman looked pleased as she glanced at the colorful beds of blooms in the nearby meadows. “You could say that. I love the drama of it all—the seeds being sown, the elements working for and against them, the flower erupting against all odds, then the death of the bloom. So much more exciting than my old life.” She looked at Meg as though just remembering she were there. “But it’s probably best if you don’t tell anyone you saw me here.”

“Oh.” Meg made a motion to seal her lips. “No problem there. I’d rather you not tell anyone you saw me, either.” She briefly wondered about the Underworld rules for changing the landscape—Hades probably would not take kindly to that.

“You’ve got a deal,” Meg said.

“I didn’t even expect to be here this long,” the woman admitted, wiping her tan hands on her cobalt blue dress. “But time moves fast.”

“Too fast,” Meg agreed, taking another admiring look at the garden the woman had cultivated.

“And I refuse to let anyone control what I do,” she said, a new fire in her voice. She ran a hand through her black hair. “I’m not sure why I’m telling you any of this.”

“It’s nice to have someone to talk to,” Meg said. She never would have thought she’d miss Phil, but she did. Not to mention Wonder Boy…“It gets me out of my head.”

“Exactly,” the woman agreed. “As does gardening.” She frowned. “Except this batch is extremely frustrating. This is my third time tending to these hydrangeas this week and the leaves are still dying out.” She held out a yellowed stem for Meg to see. “I’ve never had this problem before.”

Meg leaned down for a moment, taken by the sweet scent and the beauty of the blossoms. “Does this area get enough sun? Kind of feels like nothing in this place gets enough, but this spot in particular is kind of especially shady, don’t you think? Hydrangeas do best in full sun in the early part of the day and then partial sun the rest.” Meg looked around the area for a moment. “This bed might need to be moved farther down the road, where the sun is brighter.”

The woman rocked back on her heels. She looked at Meg with interest as she pushed her black curly hair to the right side of her neck. “You really know your hydrangeas.”

“My mother loved them,” Meg recalled. “No matter where we moved, she always splurged on flowers to spruce up the joint.” Her heart tugged at the thought of Thea being so near. “She taught me how to prune them and make them grow.”

“They are one of my favorites,” the woman admitted and stared at Meg again. “What is your mother’s name?”

“Thea,” Meg said, realizing it felt good to say her name aloud again. It suddenly occurred to her that she should say it more often. We imprint the lost on our hearts, she thought. Aegeus said Katerina had liked to say that.

“Thea,” the woman repeated, inhaling deeply as she said the name. “She will be happy to see you, I’m sure. You’re new, I take it?”

“Yes,” Meg said quickly, and felt a wave of panic. “Which is why I should probably go. You know, to go find her.”

“You’re lucky,” the woman said wistfully, seemingly not wanting their conversation to end, “that you can be with the person you love. That’s why I’m here, too, but it’s not easy.”

“No, it’s not,” Meg agreed. “Love is complicated.”

“Exactly!” The woman shook her head. She sighed and plucked one of the flowers at her feet. “Living in shadows is exhausting, isn’t it?”

Meg nodded. Then she heard the music growing louder in the distance and knew she’d already been there too long. “It was nice meeting you.”

“Good luck with your mother!” the woman said.

Meg continued down the path, the flowers growing almost fluorescent, they were so bright and plentiful. Buildings came into view next, and Meg immediately noticed they were as vibrant and varied as a rainbow. In the middle of a large courtyard were several fountains spraying full streams of water high into the sky. And that was before she noticed the people.

Unlike the other villages, this square was flooded with people dancing, hugging, and crying happy tears. People were dressed in radiantly colored chitons (that appeared to fit perfectly) and still looked almost rosy in appearance as if they were still alive, even though they weren’t. Meg didn’t hear the incessant chirping of birds or hammering. She only heard the sound of laughter and light. Meg felt her stomach relax for a moment, reinvigorated by their joy. The Underworld could make a person feel like the weight of the world was on their shoulders.

It could also make people think no time had passed, when it clearly passed much quicker down here. It had been less than a week since the Titans’ attack, but who knew how long that time had felt to Katerina? Would she still be partying and rejoicing at connecting with her family again? How long did people live in this in-between? There was only one way to find out: she would need to ask for help. What would Aphrodite say about this development? Meg wondered with a small smile. Then, What would my mother say?

Meg hurried forward, joining the crowd of people who still looked a lot like her. The sound of the flute made her turn around. A group of men had gathered to play music while others danced, reuniting with some who were wearing tan and were grayer in appearance. A woman danced by her and Meg touched her arm gently. “Excuse me. I’m looking for someone.”

“Sure! Who can we help you find, dear?” The woman’s smile was still bright, her eyes still flecked with color.

“Katerina Dimas.”

The woman thought for a moment. “I don’t recognize the name, dear. When did she arrive? Was she on the ship that sank off the Greek isles today? There’s a large group in the south of town from there.”

“No.” Meg shook her head. “She would be here a few days. She died during the Titans’ attack last week.”

“Last week?” the woman said in surprise. “That occurred a few months ago.”

“No, it was only a few days ago,” Meg started to say and stopped herself. But of course. If time moved differently down here, then the normal rules wouldn’t apply. Katerina definitely would have moved on if she’d been here a few months. Where could she be? “I’m sorry. You’re right. Where would she move to after the Evergreen, then? Is there a directory I could look at to see where she lives now?”

“Directory!” The woman laughed. “Oh no, dear. Can you imagine how big it would be and how often we’d have to update it? I’m afraid not. You’ll have to ask around, unless one of her relatives is here among the newly departed. Or she signed on to be a guide, like me. I get to stay here for eternity—and keep my rosy, alive glow, which is lovely.” She looked at Meg again. “But you do look familiar.” Her eyes opened wide as she scanned her up and down. “Are you Megara?”

Meg looked at her in surprise. “Why, yes.”

“Your mother was just here looking for you!” the woman said. “She was told you arrived today and gave me your description, but I hadn’t seen anyone with hair as bright as yours, so I sent her to Asphodel Unit A-6,985. That is where most of the new recruits were sent in the past few days. Maybe you can catch her.”

Meg felt a deep pang of longing. Her mother was looking for her. “I wish I could, but I have to find Katerina first. Are you sure you don’t have any suggestions about where I might find someone who has been here a few months?”

The woman pursed her lips. “I wish I knew. The only people that stick around the Evergreen for any length of time are children, and the adults looking after them tend to stay, too. Hades never bothers to make them move on. Someone has to take care of the young’uns, after all.”

Meg felt a flicker of hope. Layla. “All children? What if they’re here alone and later reunited with an adult?”

The woman thought for a moment. “We always send the adults to them there—they have the most beautiful seascape and mountains and glorious weather. It’s gorgeous! The adults always fall in love with the area when they see it. Aside from Elysium, it’s the nicest place in the Underworld to be.”

“Where is it?” Meg asked eagerly.

The woman pointed toward the sun beginning to lower on the horizon. “The fields near the water. Sometimes you can also find them at the poppy fields.”

Meg felt her heart begin to rev. “The poppy fields? Where are they?”

“Same direction, dear,” the woman said, and Meg was already pushing past the dancers moving by her. “Good luck!”

“Thank you!” She was finally getting somewhere, and a lot quicker than if she had not bothered to ask. Thanks for the tip, Aphrodite.

Meg ran toward the water in the distance. As she ran, she noticed the path widen, and flowers sprang up from the cracks in the road. Trees grew fuller and flowers more colorful than she ever remembered them on Earth. Even the air felt different in the Evergreen. The mugginess was gone, replaced with a comfortable temperature and a sun that shone brighter. And that was all before she heard the wonderful sound of children laughing.

As she crested the next hill, she could see them. There were kids of all ages running and playing in the massive poppy fields along the rocky shoreline. Meg stepped onto a rock to get a better look at them. Some children were alone and some with adults. The question was, which one was Layla? Meg had to hope she looked something like Katerina, whom she’d seen in Hades’s flames.

Meg jumped off the rocks, wincing in pain, and started searching, but it was like looking for the ripest grape in a huge vat. Children were running in every direction, playing, and picking poppies that seemed to grow back instantly. From a distance, they looked identical. Every one of them was dressed in beautiful vibrant colors and was carrying baskets of poppies. Some had flowers in their hair, while others walked hand in hand with parents who watched them play; but still, this offered her no clue to finding the girl.

Meg pulled the hourglass out of her satchel and sighed. The bottom of the jar was now more than three-quarters full. Somehow walking through Asphodel Meadows had cost her almost a day, which meant she had only two left. If it took her just as long to locate the pair in the poppy fields, she was doomed.

Please let Katerina and Layla be here, Meg prayed to the gods as she walked among families young and old, searching for anyone who might have Katerina’s golden hair, pale skin, and dark eyes. Please. I’m running out of time.

The field seemed to go on for miles. Many women she came across had blond hair, but were older or younger than she imagined Katerina to be. Others had longer hair, or hair so short Meg knew they couldn’t be her, and after a while, Meg wondered if she’d ever find the woman at all. At last, Meg saw someone who fit Katerina’s description exactly. She was standing with a small child about Layla’s age. Meg touched her arm.

“Katerina?” Meg asked hopefully, and the woman turned around.

A woman with green eyes stared back at Meg in confusion. It wasn’t her.

“Sorry.” Meg moved on.

The same thing happened over and over again to the point where Meg thought she’d never find her. It was if she could hear the grains of sand in the hourglass falling. There’s almost no time left! they’d say. Move faster! Faster! Find Katerina! She spun around in desperation, her eyes searching the large field of poppies again. And that’s when she heard a familiar melody.

Aegeus, she thought immediately.

The tune drifting across the meadow was one he had played for her the first night they met, and then a hundred times more over the course of their courtship. She knew the chords and notes as well as if she’d written them herself. Meg rushed toward the sound, trying to find who was humming the melody. She moved between children and mothers and babes in fathers’ arms and whirled around, hearing the melody play on the wind, but still she saw no one. How was she going to find them?

What if she played the same tune on the flute? Yes. If she did that, maybe the person would come directly to her. Her hand went to Athena’s instrument.

If she played, would she give her location away to Hades?

She had no choice. She had to risk it.

Hands shaking, Meg took Athena’s double flute from the strap around her waist, put it to her lips, and started to play Aegeus’s song. Two notes in, she hit a wrong note and then one way too high. It was as if the past was rising up to meet her, and she didn’t like the memory. The tune made her feel restless and uneasy and she had to fight the urge to put the flute down and forget the song even existed; but she knew she had to keep trying. She took a deep breath and rushed through the notes, trying not to link the music with memory. When she was finished, a small girl with dark brown hair, holding a basket of poppies, was standing in front of her.

“I know that song!” said the girl with a laugh.

Meg held her breath. “You do?”

“Yes. I once heard Medusa play it to her snakes, and they all fell fast asleep,” the child said with wide eyes. “All of them! At the same time!”

“Really?” said a small boy, listening to the story.

“Yes,” the girl said solemnly. “I was secretly watching, but when Medusa caught me, she woke her snakes up, and that’s how I wound up down here.”

Layla likes to tell tall tales, Meg reminded herself.

“Layla?” Meg whispered.

“Yes.” The child smiled. “How do you know my name?”