While Persephone's cries could not be heard above the ground, the pain in Demeter's chest quickly alerted her. The goddess knew that something was terribly wrong. Unable to stand the unease in her heart, Demeter left her dwelling and climbed onto her chariot, heading towards the fields.

At the edge of the garden, she found the Seirenes scurrying hither and thither like a flock of blind birds. Demeter called upon them. When they heard her voice, the nymphs behaved frantically and looked panic-stricken. As the goddess's chariot approached, they began to huddle together like a herd of frightened fawns.

"It's almost eve. What silly game are you playing?" Demeter asked, eyeing them. "Have you seen my daughter?"

The Seirenes flinched from her question. The Earth Goddess noticed the nymphs' ashen faces and frowned as they all remained silent.  

"What happened? Where is Persephone?" she asked again in a stern voice. One of them was shoved forward to answer the goddess. Her body were shaking like a leaf as she began to speak.

"We don't know where the young lady is," the nymph said while the rest of them lowered their gazes to the ground. "We have been looking for her everywhere all noon."

"Are you telling me that Persephone has been missing all this time?"

"I swear to the gods, my lady, she was just there with us, but the next moment, she was gone!" They began to sob. "We called for her and looked far and wide, yet there's not a trace of where she might have gone astray."

Demeter felt a pang of shock, and grief struck her like lightning; she nearly dropped to her knees. Then, her shock was replaced by a gnawing rage from within her chest. Demeter stepped out of her chariot with fury-filled eyes and bellowed.

"I entrusted my child to your care! How dare you deceive me!" 

The nymphs fell to the ground by her feet and asked the goddess for forgiveness. 

"My lady, we beg for your mercy," they cried tearfully, all trembling with fear. "Let us redeem our wrong, please. We will help you look for Persephone."

"Then you shall go and find her in the form of bird-like monsters!” Demeter cried fiercely, “Your wings shall carry you across the lands and seas so that all would know of my missing child. It is your punishment. You will be released from it unless someone hears your singing."

As soon as Demeter finished speaking, the Seirenes saw golden plumage clothing all over their limbs. They now had feathers and feet of birds. Yet to reserve their glorious song, their melodies' enchantment, the goddess let them retain their fair maidens' face and their sweet, charming voice. It was both a blessing and a curse.

After the nymphs were made flying creatures by the will of Demeter, they wandered away, seeking for their beloved mistress.

Twilight slowly descended upon the world. Demeter went on and sought her daughter from dusk to dawn, from sunrise until sunset, hour by hour without a moment of rest.

She sped here and there, calling for her child. 

"Persephone! Persephone!"

But she heard no answer.

All day and night, Demeter kept looking for her missing daughter. She searched high and low, but it seemed the girl had vanished from the face of the earth. Consumed by worries and depression over her lost child, the goddess soon ceased to remember her worldly duties as Goddess of Grain and Growth. The plants withered and died all around her. The wheat color-haired lady grew sadder as she felt her hopes begin to fade.

She was weary and thirsty, for no spring had wet her lips. Then she chanced to see a little cottage thatched with straw and knocked on its low door. An old lady came out and looked at her, and when she asked if the woman had seen a young maiden, the crone replied with a shake of her gray head. 

Sighing, Demeter instead asked her for some water. The woman brought out a sweet barley-flavoured drink. While the goddess drank, a saucy, bold-faced boy stood by and laughed at her, calling her greedy. The goddess looked up. He stopped laughing. Demeter, in mere irritation, poured the unfinished drink with all the grains of barley over him.

Immediately, his cheeks came out in spots, and where his arms had been, legs grew. A tail was added to his altered limbs. To keep his mischief small, he shrank until he was tinier than a lizard. The old crone, amazed, in tears, bent down to touch the changeling creature, but it fled to find a hiding crack.

It had a name to suit its colored skin - a starry-spotted newt.

When dawn broke another day, Demeter returned to the forest and passed by the glade. There, the earth goddess saw the uprooted bush and the trampled grass. Then she saw something that stabbed at her heart — Persephone's little paint pot, overturned. Demeter leaped from her chariot. She listened to the flowers and trees and birds. They began to whisper to her of the heedless girl, and the strange bush, and the hole, and the chariot, and the black rider.

Demeter spoke softly, questioning them. They told her enough for her to know who had taken her beloved daughter. She lifted her face to the sky and howled with grief like a she-wolf. The earth rumbled, and the birds flew out of the trees. Then the goddess put her face in her hands and wept.

After a moment of intense grief, she mounted her chariot again and flew up to the home of the gods. Demeter charged into the throne room where the King of Heaven sat. She began shunning the attention of Zeus as a father.

"Justice!" she cried, "I demand justice! Give her back! Where are the ordinances of the gods, where are the laws of heaven? Your sister has stolen my daughter — our daughter!"

"Peace, Demeter, compose yourself," said Zeus calmly.

"How could you sit there and do naught after my child was taken?" Demeter cried. "You knew that Hades took her away from me, did you not?"

Of course, Zeus did. He learned about it just as soon as the incident happened. Yet he knew how his other sister was. Hades could be extremely difficult, unlike any other siblings of Zeus. If the King of Heaven refused to hearken to Hade, she shall throw open Hell and call forth her monsters, who would break Cronus’s old chains and shroud the sun in darkness. The framework of the world shall be loosened, and the shining heavens shall mingle with the Underworld’s shades. Who would dare refuse such a marriage with the Goddess Hades? Who would wish to exchange the brilliancy for the darkness of Styx?

Zeus let out a heavy sigh.

"Hades's courtship has been a trifle abrupt, perhaps, but after all, she is my sister - our sister. Think again, sweet Demeter. It is highly unlikely for our daughter to look beyond the family protection."

"Family protection? With Hades?" the earth goddess growled. "Never! It must not be! Anyone but Hades!"

"My dear, when your rage cools and your mind clears, you will realize it is fortunate that Persephone will be loved and cared for by the hand of another goddess."

"No! I will not allow it. Don't you realize this is a spring child, a flower child, a delicate unopened bud? No ray of sunlight has ever reached that dank place she calls her kingdom. My dear Persephone will wither and die!"

Though Zeus knew that his daughter would not be harmed by Hades, he also felt saddened by the thought of losing her to the world from which no mortal could return. He wavered, reluctant to anger both sisters but more apprehensive still of the wrath of the dark goddess.

"Persephone is our daughter," Zeus sighed at last. "I fancy she has a talent for survival. Please, think it over, Demeter."

"Once again," the goddess said in a trembling, angry voice, "will you restore my daughter to me?"

"Demeter, please go back to earth and be intelligent about it."

"I will go back to earth," said Demeter bitterly, "and while my child is gone, no crops shall grow. No tree will bear, no grass will spring. While she is gone and while I mourn my loss, the earth will grow as dry and shriveled as my heart and will put forth no green things. And I will not return until all the gods beg for me."

Then, the rich-haired goddess turned away and left Olympus.