Portals in Time 1

by Michael Beals

  Climbing into the back of the Bentley, she tried to enjoy the luxurious seats, but she was too nervous, so she intertwined her fingers and watched the fields drift by. It was slightly hilly, and white rail fencing had been erected to secure the various paddocks, where horses grazed on the thick grass. There were oak trees and silver birch. Daisies grew on the verges, and halfway to the house, they crossed a fast-running creek. If she hadn’t been so nervous, she would have enjoyed the ride and scenery. It was like a magical island with beautiful flowers blooming in a sea of green.

  When the house came into view, she calmed down. She wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting, but it was just a large and wealthy ranch house with Georgian windows and pillars framing the front door, everything painted white. It even had wisteria growing up one side, and potted plants decorating a terrace that boasted two colorful deckchairs. Kat giggled quietly as she thought about the Lord of the Underworld lying next to his beloved on deckchairs and soaking up the rays in Hell. Kat wondered if they used suntan lotion with an SPF rating of 10,000…

  Climbing out of the car, she stood there for a moment, breathing in the smell of jasmine, and then two Irish setters came bounding over to her, wagging their tails and wanting to be patted. They were so friendly, and it made her wonder if dogs were reincarnated, or had Hades had them shipped in with his newspapers, maybe even his horses?

  “This is Horace, and Charlie,” Giselle said, patting them both. “If they’re out, and about, it means that Haddy’s down at the stables. Do you like horses?”

  “I love horses. I was out riding just before I was killed.”

  “Well, you’ll love the island. It’s full of horses.

  She followed Giselle down a sandy footpath, the dogs bounding ahead of them. After a few hundred yards, they crossed a small wooden bridge that spanned the fast-running creek she’d seen from the car. Weeping willows trailed into the water, and reeds grew on the bank. It was delightful. She scanned the fields. There must have been thirty horses roaming the various paddocks, and she could see the stables now. They were quite extensive and must have housed a dozen horses. Unlike the stables at the Devis ranch, Hades’ stables looked English. The stalls had a tiled roof, and the yard had been finished with flat cobblestones. She spotted two stable boys forking hay into one of the stalls, and when they drew nearer, she could see that a few stalls had horses in them, which was strange on such a beautiful day.

  They found Hades in one of the paddocks, but he wasn’t riding or grooming a horse. He was sitting in front of an easel. He was frowning as he put the finishing touches to a painting of a horse and its foal. He put his brush down when he saw them.

  Kat was shocked. Satan looked just like Paul Newman.

  Rooted to the spot in astonishment, Kat watched him as he made his way over to them. He was wearing a red and blue check western shirt, baggy twill pants that looked as if they’d seen better days, and a pair of old leather shoes that looked positively beaten up. Then again, who dressed up at the stables?

  “Hi, Haddy!” Giselle said, kissing him on the cheek. “This is Kat. Be gentle with her. She’s just arrived.”

  A mischievous smile spread across Hades’ handsome face. “Yeah, Sephy told me. I’ll try not to breathe fire.” He grinned. “Which isn’t easy. I had a curry last night, and it’s really giving me gyp.”

  Kat smiled. She was trying to look relaxed, but she was being hit on two fronts. She was staring at the biggest matinee idol in the world, but he was also Satan. Who wouldn’t be nervous?

  “You’ve got horses,” she said lamely. “I mean… I know that’s kind of obvious, but I mean you like horses.”

  “Yep!” he said, picking up a cigar butt, and planting it between his lips. “I sure do. They’re beautiful creatures. I had to ask the Old Man if I could keep them here. The bummer is, I can’t ride at the moment. My favorite mare up and threw me the other day, and I’m a little sore.”

  “But, you’re the D… you’re Hades. Can you get sore?”

  Hades laughed. “Sure I can, especially at my age. Sephy gets quite pissed when I go riding. She worries about my health. I keep telling her it’s not going to kill me, but you know what women are like.”

  Kat was too frightened to laugh, but she couldn’t stop herself giggling. Eventually, she said, “When you say Sephy, do you mean Persephone?”

  “That’s the one. What a pain in the arse that woman can be. She’s thousands of years old, and can’t boil an egg. Not that many women can,” he added. “Can you boil an egg?”

  “Me?” she said, staring at him, but feeling a little more relaxed. “I can’t… cook at all.”

  “See what I mean?”

  She was beginning to like Hades, although there was definitely something scary about him. Perhaps it was the mischievous gleam in his eyes or the fact that he looked so young. Even after Giselle had told her he was just a regular guy, she’d expected him to be extremely old, not film star young, and ridiculously handsome.

  “Shall we go up to the house?” Giselle suggested, peering at Hades’ painting.

  “Sure. Why not?” Hades replied, lighting the stub of his cigar with an old Zippo lighter. “I can finish that later.”

  “You’re just going to leave it here?” Kat ventured. “What if it rains?”

  Hades snorted with indignation. “It will rain when I damned well tell it to rain.”

  As they made their way back up the sandy path, Kat began to feel better. The fact that Giselle called him Haddy was a help. It made him seem more human. She had also kissed him on the cheek, although it was noticeable that he hadn’t reacted. Maybe Giselle’s beauty meant little to him; he was, after all, incredibly old, and he was married to Persephone. According to myth, Persephone was extremely beautiful. Her name was Kore, which meant beautiful maiden, not to mention that she was also Queen and coruler of the Underworld.

  Realizing she was lagging behind, she walked faster to catch up. Hades was complaining about the demons at the mines. The mines were supposed to be punishment, and the demons were supposed to be the guards and wardens, but they seemed to have no control over the inmates. The turf wars were continuing unabated. It had been going on for far too long.

  “Where the hell are they getting their weapons from?” he complained. “Inmates aren’t supposed to have weapons.”

  “They buy them on the black market,” Giselle said, patting one of the dogs. “They’ve been doing it for years.”

  “It’s outrageous!”

  “Look on the bright side. If the inmates didn’t have something to occupy themselves, they’d all be stealing artifacts.”

  “But they are stealing artifacts!” he almost shouted. “According to the demons, twenty humans went missing only last week.”

  “Anyway, haven’t you got bigger things to worry about? I hear that the Middle East has got problems.”

  “The Middle East always has problems. I’ve never known a race of people so hell-bent on killing each other, and they all think they’re going to heaven to be attended by a bunch of virgins. It’s the damndest thing.”

  Following them into the house, Kat looked around. Hades’ living room was enormous, although beautifully furnished. There were expensively upholstered chairs, and couches, Persian rugs, and potted plants. There were large paintings of ancient kings, and queens, mountain landscapes, and surreal art; Hades was quite an art connoisseur. She peered at an old grandfather clock. It had been made in Switzerland in 1743, and she wondered how long it had been here. Over by the windows that overlooked the terrace, there were Greek statues, one of the Venus de Milo, but with angel’s wings, and yet again, she glimpsed Hades’ sense of humor.

  Leaving them to talk, she wandered into another room. She found all sorts of fascinating objects that Hades had collected, an ancient golden chariot, what looked like Cleopatra’s headdress, George Washington’s rocking chair, a Roman statue. There was even a Ferrari 335 S Spider Scaglietti and a Model T Ford. Hades liked to co
llect things.

  She wandered back into the living room again. The conversation was becoming humorous. Hades was telling politician jokes, and Giselle was shrieking with laughter, her blonde hair falling across her face. She had never seen Giselle laugh so much, and it was hard to believe she was talking to Satan, the supernatural being who struck fear into the hearts of every man, woman, and child. He looked up when he saw her.

  “Ah, there you are. We wondered where you’d wandered off.”

  “I’m sorry. I was admiring your collection of antiquities. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “Not at all. I like to collect interesting things...”

  “Like his meerschaum pipes,” Giselle giggled.

  “You smoke a pipe?”

  Hades shook his head. “No, I’m a cigar man. I collect the pipes because I love the intricate carvings. Take a seat. There’s something I’d like to chat with you about.”

  Easing herself into one of the enormous upholstered chairs next to Giselle, Kat tried to smile, but in her nervousness, it felt more like a grimace. “Yes, of course. Giselle said you wanted to talk to me about something.”

  “I’m sorry to throw you in at the deep end, but I’ve got a problem, and after reading your file, I believe you have the abilities to help me.” Lighting a fresh cigar, he blew a cloud of smoke at the ceiling. Expecting a waft of tobacco, Kat was surprised that the cloud smelled of lilacs. “When people are sent to Hell, they’re supposed to stay here until I feel they deserve another chance at life. But when that is, is my decision,” he took a puff on his cigar, “not theirs. Unfortunately, some people like to cheat.”

  “How can you cheat… being dead?”

  He raised his perfect eyebrows. “Well, as it happens, there are ways. We have a device, actually, quite a few of them, that we call an artifact. It allows you to slip through one of the portals, and back to Earth. But it’s not as simple as that. There’s an artifact that can select the date you arrive on Earth, and that’s very unfortunate because if they go into the past, we have to send the Gypsies to find them and bring them back. The bad thing is, it takes the Gypsies away from their other responsibilities. They really could use some help.”

  Hades was silent for a moment. “We have a police force here called The Elites. I believe Giselle informed you that you are now a part of that organization.” He stared at her for a moment. “The problem is, they’re corrupt. I need someone on the inside to root out that corruption.” He laughed. “You need a thief to catch a thief… if you know what I mean.”

  “Why would you think I would be any good at this?”

  “Because you’re an honorable person. You’re not easy to corrupt. Besides, you're dogged and ruthless and absolutely fearless.

  “I appreciate the confidence, sir, but meeting Satan, the King of the Underworld, kinda scared the shit out of me. I don’t feel fearless at the moment.”

  “None-the-less, I need you working for me.”

  Kat was silent for a moment. She knew what Hades was going to ask of her. He wanted her to find out how people were getting out. “But you’re Hades. You know everything. How could I possibly help?”

  “Oh, you mean because I’m the Devil. I’m all-seeing and all-knowing. That’s a myth, Kat. I might run Hell, and have my little spies, but I’m not a mind reader. I don’t know what people are thinking, and I can’t move amongst them. You, on the other hand, can blend in. Someone’s selling these artifacts, and I need you to stop it.”

  Kat’s eyes widened. “But Giselle says Hell is huge. I wouldn’t know where to start.”

  Hades shook his head and tutted. “I don’t mean the whole world. That would be impossible. No, I mean just in North America, specifically New York City.”

  Kat was about to protest again when the door opened, and the most beautiful woman she’d ever seen walked into the room. Wearing a flowing dress that reminded Kat of a Greek Goddess, her long, golden hair flowing out behind her, she positively glided across the room. Waving hello to Giselle, she went up to Hades and kissed him on the cheek, but then wrinkled her nose.

  “Haddy, have you been painting again? You stink of turpentine. You know it doesn’t wash off very easily.”

  Hades rolled his eyes. “Would you be happier if I’d been mucking out the stables?”

  “No, I wouldn’t. You know what the doctor said about your back.”

  “I don’t listen to quacks. Can I introduce you to Miss. Wolfram? I’ve asked her to help us with the escapees.”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry,” she said, swiveling towards Kat. “How rude of me. I’m Persephone, Haddy’s better half.”

  Not knowing whether to curtsy or bow her head, Kat held out a hand. When Persephone took it, Kat winced. Persephone had a grip of iron. “Everyone calls me Kat. I gather you like horses.”

  The goddess withdrew her hand as if she’d been burned. “Sorry,” she said, wiggling her fingers. “I forget how fragile humans are. Yes, I love horses. They’re God’s creatures. Why? Do you ride?”

  “Yes, I do. I’ve been riding since I was a child.”

  “Wonderful. We can go riding together. Haddy’s not allowed to ride. Silly old sausage keeps hurting himself.”

  “I do not keep hurting myself!” Hades admonished her. “And you don’t call the Devil a silly sausage, especially in front of guests. It’s disrespectful.”

  “It’s a term of endearment, Darling. Don’t be so uptight.” She turned back to Kat. “So, you’re going to help with the escapees?”

  “So it seems. This is all very new to me. But I did spend six years fighting the NAZIs. I guess this couldn’t be any more difficult.”

  “Hah!” she exclaimed. “Wait till you have to work with the demons. They can be worse than NAZIs.”

  “But don’t they work for you?”

  “I’m afraid they’re a necessary evil. We also must maintain an image. Not many people get to meet Haddy, so most people think he’s just like a demon. People need to be controlled.”

  Hades was beginning to look impatient, puffing on his cigar, giving Giselle surreptitious looks, and glancing around the room. “Sephy, I hate to interrupt, but we’re having a meeting here. I need to talk to Kat.”

  “Nonsense!” Persephone exclaimed. “I’m sure Giselle can fill her in on all the details. I want to show her the horses, especially Pegasus.”

  Hades groaned. “Oh, no. Please don’t tell me you’re going flying. You’ll be gone for hours.”

  “Flying?” Kat ventured. “Horses can’t fly.”

  “Pegasus can. You must have heard of Pegasus. We had him imported from ancient Greece. They’re a much smoother ride than regular horses, and Haddy’s afraid of heights.”

  “You’re afraid of heights?” she asked Hades.

  “Yeah, well,” he said, looking slightly sheepish, “nobody’s perfect.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  G ood morning Patrick!” Persephone called, climbing into the back of the Bentley. “We’re going to Mount Olympus.”

  The elderly chauffeur groaned and climbed behind the wheel. “Good morning, Your Highness. Shouldn’t we bring supplies?”

  “No, we won’t be long.” She grinned at Kat. “It’s not really a mountain,” she whispered. “It’s just a bit hilly. We call it Mount Olympus because it keeps Pegasus happy. He has no idea he’s in Hell. He thinks he’s still in ancient Greece, and we don’t want to disillusion him. We also brought his mare, and horses are quite sensitive.”

  “How would they know?” Kat asked. “Horses don’t understand geography.”

  “They understand their surroundings. Our Olympus is by the sea, so it feels the same.”

  “Wouldn’t they be happier with the other horses?”

  Persephone screwed up her face. “We tried that, but they’re not like the other horses. They feel more superior. They probably think that normal horses are deformed, you know, not having wings. It’s a bit like thalidomide babies, born without arms or legs. Pegasus always flew
away from them. He and his mare are quite happy living in the hills. In fact, we were hoping they might produce a baby Pegasus, but nothing’s happened yet.”

  Kat settled back and watched as the fields became rolling hills that grew steeper. They were driving on a winding lane that wove between the peaks, and it reminded her of an old Japanese painting. There were flowering cherry trees, steep meadows full of daisies, and gnarled cypress trees. She wondered what it would feel like, sitting astride a flying horse. What would happen if she fell off? She couldn’t be killed; she was already dead.

  After a while, she asked, “How do you control a flying horse? Do you make it wear a saddle? Do you have reins?”

  “You can’t put a saddle on a flying horse. They’d hate it. You can have reins to steer it, but you can’t put a bit in its mouth. It’s more like a decorative halter. Don’t worry; you’ll get the hang of it.

  They were descending into a steep valley when Kat spotted the stables, but they weren’t your regular stables. They were more like an ancient villa with small cupolas bordering a small lawn area. Kat spotted Pegasus immediately, grazing in a field behind the villa. He was large, and snow-white, his wings gracefully folded across his back like a male swan. She couldn’t see the mare. Maybe she was inside the stable block.

  Pulling up to the villa, Kat followed Persephone inside, but the interior of the villa was just one room. On one side, open straw-filled stalls had been erected, but on the other side of the room, there were racks of ancient weapons, bows, sheaves of arrows, shields, and ornate spears. There were winged helmets, elaborate tunics, and golden breastplates as if Persephone was preparing for war. Fascinated, she unhooked a sheaf of arrows and studied it. The arrow flights were tipped with gold, the arrowheads solid gold, and she couldn’t help wondering how they could work. Surely, they’d be too heavy to fly.

  “Be careful with those,” Persephone warned. “They’re not normal arrows.”

  “Yes, I can see. What are the arrows for?”