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I felt small and alone. My mother was brilliant and a skilled Witch; there had never been anything magical that she couldn’t explain to my satisfaction.
    Dad opened his mouth and the lights in the dining room surged brightly and then went out. I let out a startled shriek. Mom stood up, and I heard her rummaging around in the dark. I guessed that she was searching the junk drawer for matches to light the candles that sat unused on the table. The sulfuric smell of the match brought eerie illumination, and my mother’s head looked like it was floating in the darkness. Then the candles were lit, and everything felt normal, if somewhat quaint. We didn’t usually eat in candlelight, since candles served more of a purpose for my family than providing romantic lighting. Witches rely on candles to focus their magic for all kinds of spells, but the two that stood ready on the table for power outages were plain white tapers that had never been used for magic.
    Across the table, Dad shifted uncomfortably and gestured to the candles. “I don’t think we’re supposed to tell you anything else right now. Otherwise, the power would still be on.”
    His words made my skin crawl. “What do you mean?”
    “Someone is watching you, Lena,” Mom said, “and she’s not a goddess I want to cross.”
    That pushed me over the edge. I stood up so fast my chair toppled over behind me, and Mom jumped at the crash. “I need to know! This is going to be my life, and I can’t be ignorant!” I ranted, stomping around the table with pent-up anger. “I’ve been kicked out of school and now you two just told me that whatever it is I am is dangerous, but you won’t tell me how, or why, or anything. It’s not fair! None of this is fair!”
    A shadow moved in the corner of my eye, and Mom gasped. I turned and found myself facing a shimmering specter, a woman robed in blue. Her hair was black as ice and her eyes were cold. Her mouth was stained unnaturally red, and at first I thought she was some kind of vampire until I saw the halved fruit in her hand. Pomegranate seeds tinkled to the floor as she moved forward, and my mother bent her head in reverence. That’s when I figured out who this goddess was: she could only be the daughter of my mom’s patron. Dad hadn’t moved since the apparition had appeared; it was as if he was frozen.
    “Of course it’s not fair,” Persephone whispered. “If it were fair, would I have been forced to choose between my love and the light of the sun?” She clenched the fruit in her right hand. Juice squirted onto her blue gown, but she didn’t seem to notice. “You are a Red, girl, like it or not, and like myself, you are bound by forces beyond human conception.”
    I darted a panicked look at my parents. Mom still had her head bowed, her eyes turned to the floor. Frightened, I looked back at the goddess, not sure what she expected me to say or do.
    “I’m sorry,” I said lamely. Persephone didn’t answer.
    She considered me for a moment, and then her expression altered. She didn’t seem angry anymore, but I couldn’t tell what emotion now possessed her. She stretched her hand out to me.
    “Take a seed. Take three. Keep them. If you ever feel that you’ve made a devil’s bargain, you may eat them.” A smile played across her lips, but I didn’t think she was really happy. What did the seeds have to do with anything? Suspicious, I shook my head, and her eyes turned to steel.
    “Take them. What you do with them is up to you, but do not refuse a gift from the gods.”
    Hesitantly, I held out my palm and three jewel-like seeds dropped into it. I closed my fingers cautiously, almost as afraid of crushing the gift as I was of accepting it. Persephone seemed satisfied.
    “The Red is the blood. My blood was virginal when I was taken from the springtime, but now I am neither of this world or that. The blood changes, but the blood compels. Remember this lesson, and obey your own blood.”
    With these