Persephone's Orchard (The Chrysomelia Stories) by Molly Ringle Page A

word “mythological,” she kept the thought to herself.
    The wet rope he held, she observed, stretched from one shore to the other, looped around a post on each side like a pulley and attached to the raft in between. She supposed it was so you could fetch the raft if it was on the wrong side of the river. Pulling the dripping rope hand over hand, Adrian maneuvered the raft to the other side. Catching the post there, he tied the mooring rope to it, then stood and stretched a hand to her.
    She took it. He led her up the grassy slope to the fields. Once on level ground, she pulled her hand away.
    Kiri shot past them, sprinting around the fields and up and down the hills, adroitly dodging the souls even though she likely could have cut straight through them. At the sight of the living dog barreling past, the human souls smiled. Soon Kiri had picked up a string of ghost dogs, streaking along after her, all sizes and breeds. For alongside the human ghosts, some animal souls walked too: mostly dogs and cats, with a few horses or other pets. Nothing more exotic, as far as Sophie noticed.
    “Pets come here, but wild animals don’t?” she asked.
    “Seems to be the pattern. I’m not certain, but I think animal souls usually go some other place—maybe another realm altogether. But those that were attached to humans follow the human souls here. Handy for us. We can use horses for transport.”
    “Wow. I wonder if my old dog is here.”
    “Could be.”
    Sophie folded her arms, looking around. “And my grandfather.”
    Adrian nodded. “Do you want to find him straight away, or…?”
    “Yes.” She tried to look brave, though her heart thudded, and her limbs went cold with fear and love.
    Adrian only looked reluctant, not defensive. “Are you sure?”
    “I won’t be able to believe in this place until I see proof that someone I know to be dead is here .”
    He sighed, closing his mouth, and turned to survey the crowds of souls. Kiri catapulted over, leading the stream of ghost dogs in a glowing circle around them, and took off again.
    Adrian lifted his arms to attract the souls’ attention, and raised his voice to address them. But whatever he said, it wasn’t in a language she understood. He spoke a few words, sandwiching “Louis Alfred Darrow” and “Sophie Darrow” between them. After delivering this announcement, he waited, and the souls murmured and whispered.
    As Sophie and Adrian watched, the message moved through the crowd, spreading outward. A minute or two passed. Then a gap opened in the multitudes, far away on one of the hills, and someone walked forward into the space. Adrian nodded in that direction and led Sophie across the field.
    The soul moved toward them and met them halfway.
    Grandpop.
    He stood before her, smiling the wide, loving smile he reserved just for his grandchildren. His white hair grew in its bushy half-circle on his balding head, exactly as she remembered. His dark brown skin retained some of the deep wrinkles he’d earned in his long life, but now contained a certain serene smoothness from the glow emanating from within him. He wore his favorite green checkered shirt and khaki pants pulled up too high, as usual. It was all just as he had looked in the video.
    “My goodness, Sophie-Sodapop. You made it.”
    His nickname for her. His deep voice. Him .
    Sophie blinked back tears and tried to answer. “I’m…v-visiting…” God, what a stupid thing to say. She laughed.
    “It’s all right, dear,” said Grandpop. “You just take a minute.”
    She found a tissue in her pocket, and wiped her eyes. “I…I didn’t know if this was real, if souls were really here, so I had him find you.”
    “Who knew, huh? All those wars about heaven and religion and it turns out we all go to a big cave.” He chuckled.
    She blew her nose, and grinned. “Hey. Did you know Dad grew a mustache?”
    They talked for perhaps half an hour. Of course she tried touching him, but her hand passed straight