by Jan Kopia
The footsteps got faster, the door opened. A tall man that Antonia had never seen before rushed into the room, his eyes wide, a gun clutched in his hands. Antonia felt a moment of relief.
“Please,” she implored him. “Help—"
The deafening sound of a gunshot echoed through the air. Antonia felt her soul stir in her body. It was the first time she'd been aware of her own soul.
Then she fell.
***
Ethan felt his head spin as he walked past the machines and cabinets full of files. The fact that the government hadn’t shut down Lark’s research completely meant that they believed she was on the verge of finding something more. Maybe something that could make a difference.
Ethan thought about his mother, the vacant expression in her eyes and the desperation that had clung to her ever since her seizure. If doctors hadn’t been able to explain her condition, was it possible that a scientist might? Ethan had told himself not to hope, but hope was a difficult thing to kill when you had nothing else to cling to.
“Help!” screamed a woman's voice. "Please help me!"
Ethan felt his body snap into action. The scream had come from behind the closed door at the other end of the space. Was it Lark? Was it one of her colleagues? Drawing his gun, he rushed across the room, then smashed through the door.
It had flown open easily, swinging back on its hinges. Ethan froze in shock at the sight he saw in front of him. He recognized Antonia Lark right away. Her blue eyes were wide with terror; her face was a mask of keen horror.
Ethan stared at the woman standing across from Lark. She was tall and commanding in presence. She had the beauty of an angel, and eyes that shone with cruelty, anger and the thirst for power. She was holding a gun aimed at Lark’s head.
“Please,” Lark said. “Help—"
The sound of the gunshot was deafening. Ethan had spent most of his life in service and had grown used to the sound of gunfire, but this was different. This wasn't a warzone or enemy territory. This wasn't a battle.
Antonia Lark crumpled to the floor like a rag doll. One second… that's all it took to pull the trigger and end a life. Lark had been struck in the middle of her chest. Ethan knew she was dead before she even hit the floor.
Ethan pointed his gun at the shooter, his heart hammering, his breathing coming in short, sharp bursts.
“Don’t move,” he forced himself to say.
He was grateful that his voice didn’t shake. Why did this woman intimidate him so much? Why did he feel the cold grip of fear wrap itself around his fast-beating heart?
She dropped the gun she was holding, but she didn’t seem concerned at all about Ethan pointing a gun directly at her. In fact, she looked kind of amused.
“Don’t make me kill you too," she said. "It would be wasteful. I just needed Antonia.”
“I… who are you?” Ethan demanded. “Why… why did you kill her?”
“Because I could,” the woman replied. “And because she’s a very important part of the big picture.”
Ethan felt his hands begin to shake, the gun almost slipping from his grasp.
The woman laughed and walked towards Lark’s body. She was standing in a pool of blood but she didn’t even seem to notice.
“You’re under arrest,” Ethan said. “Come with me.”
She threw back her head and laughed. “You think I’m coming with you?” she asked. “You think that puny weapon in your hand gives you power over me?”
The beautiful woman looked right into Ethan’s eyes and smiled. “True power comes from within,” she said.
Bending slowly to the ground, she put her hand on Antonia’s forehead. “The Titans set humanity on a path for destruction, and then you did the rest yourselves. It's divine justice.”
The woman's body started to fade, take on the quality of mist. “Who are you?” Ethan whispered.
She smiled. “I am the end.”
Her body was vanishing right before his eyes. She didn’t take her hand off Lark’s forehead even as she faded completely away. Ethan stood there with his hands still raised and his mind reeling. He felt nausea at the back of his throat but before it could reach him, his mind give way and he collapsed to the ground.
***
First, there was pain. Then there was darkness. And finally there was the feeling of flying. Or maybe this was something entirely different.
Was this what it felt to free-fall? There was a whole other dimension to her body. It was like she was finally getting to know all the parts of herself that she had worked so hard to suppress for so long.
Were her eyes closed? She couldn’t see anything. Antonia tried to find her eyes. It was more of an instinct than a physical awareness of where they were. She cracked them open, and saw the world blur into color. She could make out a hundred different colors that she had no name for. They dazzled her eyes and made her want to cry.
Why did she feel so heavy? Antonia struggled to remember the chaos surrounding her last few moments in the laboratory, but everything was clouded in fog.
Something heavy landed on top of her, and she cried out in pain. It was more than just a physical weight; it was darkness, so potent it washed out all the color. It hurt so much. What was it? Antonia felt sure it was on her — or in her. It felt like it was everywhere, consuming her whole, eating her alive and leaving her empty.
Antonia tried to move her head, but she couldn't move. She was still falling; she turned her head to the side and gasped in terror. She was surrounded by horrible creatures with gnarled wings and one-eyed heads, that roared at her as she fell past them. Their scaly arms were almost human as they reached out to try and catch her. One monster touched her, its claws tearing at her arms, pulling away fragments of light. Pain shot through her body like wildfire.
Antonia screamed, but her voice was lost in the chaos and the blinding roar of panic in her brain. And then all at once, she stopped falling, as though she had never been falling at all. She was lying in the middle of nowhere with golden sand all around her.
Antonia struggled to regain her memory. She'd been in the lab and something terrible had happened. Victoria! Antonia felt a shiver run up her spine. Victoria had pointed a gun at her and then she had fallen through some crack and landed here, in this strange place, with golden sand that sparkled like a field of diamonds.
And then it hit Antonia. She was dreaming! This was just a vivid dream that she was trapped in. She'd been overworking herself the last few weeks. She was functioning on very little sleep. She would wake up at any moment.
But why did everything feel so real?
Antonia became aware of something else lurking behind her. Something dangerous that carried an energy she recognized.
“You’re just dreaming,” she told herself. “This is all just a dream. Now come on, wake up.”
She slowly got to her feet, raising her arm to pinch herself. She gasped in alarm as she realized her arms were sparkling; there was a faint glow that enveloped her entire body. Nearby, large tufts of sand swirled upwards. They blocked her view for a moment, but Antonia knew someone — or something — was there, watching her.
“Who’s there?”
There was a moment's silence. “It’s me.”
Antonia frowned. That voice, it sounded so familiar. Why did it sound so familiar? “I can’t see you,” she said.
The swirling clouds of mist fell away, like parting curtains under a pale umber spotlight. The woman that stepped forward had bright hazel-green eyes and gold hair streaked with honey.
Antonia gasped. “Victoria?”
“Thank you for bringing me here Antonia. It was quite the journey.”
“This is a dream,” Antonia said to herself. “I’m dreaming.”
“Still in denial,” Victoria sighed. “Poor girl. Time to accept the truth. Time to open your third eye. This is not a dream.”
Antonia felt the truth of Victoria’s words echo inside of her. And slowly the realization began to dawn
on her. It was the cold, painful truth of acceptance. This was not a dream.
“Who are you?” Antonia asked.
Victoria smiled, and Antonia’s entire being shivered with foreboding. “You know my name. It has been on humanity’s lips since the dawn of time.”
Antonia wanted to run, but fear had rooted her firmly into the sand. She wanted to look away, but her eyes were mesmerized by the horrifying contradiction before her. Victoria’s green eyes seemed to glow slightly, those green eyes with the tinge of red around the irises. She'd noticed the color before; a warning she'd been too blind to see. Back when she was still on Earth. Back when she was still alive.
“You know my name, Antonia,” Victoria said softly. “Say it.”
Antonia almost choked on the name, but she was too terrified to disobey.
“Lucifer,” she whispered.
Chapter Seventeen
“Is this place real?” Patrick asked, looking around at mountains that were made of water and lakes that looked like golden lava.
There were streams that ran across the sand and trees so tall he couldn’t see the top of them. He felt as though he'd fallen down the rabbit hole. Was this what Alice had felt when she first came to Wonderland? That book had been one of Tess’s favorites.
Tess.
Patrick’s soul ached just thinking about her. He looked around at the ever-changing landscape, wondering how on Earth he was going to get to her.
“How do I find her?” he asked. “How do I find my daughter?”
Imara reached out and put her hand on his shoulder. “You need to calm yourself,” she said. “Your soul is frightened.”
“A part of me didn’t believe I'd make it here,” Patrick admitted. “A part of me thought—"
“You would simply die and that would be the end of it?” Imara nodded. “Yes, I know.”
“How?”
“I can sense it on you. The fear, the uncertainty, the pain. It is the great beauty of being human.”
“Beauty?” Patrick repeated. “Where is the beauty in pain?”
“Pain is created from love,” Imara said. “If you didn’t love your daughter, you wouldn't feel the pain of her loss. You have crossed realms to be here Patrick, all to save your child. Is there anything more powerful than that?”
“But I don’t know what to do,” he said, turning to Imara. “How do I find Tess? This place… it doesn’t even feel real.”
“Because The Hades is a pathway, not a world,” Imara explained. “No one is meant to stay here permanently.”
“How is it that you're here?” I asked.
“I crossed through the portal of The Hades to be here,” she said. “From the World Tree.”
“The World Tree?” Patrick repeated, feeling his memories stir. “The one on Tartarus?”
Imara nodded. “The very same.”
Patrick felt something inside him stir. “It’s all true,” he breathed. “Everything Diane told me, it's all true?”
“Faith is a difficult thing to hold on to,” Imara said.
“There are people on Earth who believe,” Patrick replied. “They believe in Tartarus, in The Hades, in Lucifer.”
“All of which exist,” Imara nodded. “Just as you and I do.”
“I didn’t realize it until now,” he said. “But a part of me wasn’t sure. A part of me thought that my consciousness would disappear into the blackness of death and I would just… cease to exist.”
“Cease to exist,” Imara said, and there was a sad edge to her tone. “No, Patrick. That is not the fate of man. That is a fate that awaits Titans… and Angels.”
Patrick glanced at her solemnly. “Diane — my friend — she told me that angels were immortal. They live forever.”
“Indeed we do,” Imara nodded. “But we are not invincible. No being in this great universe is invincible.”
Patrick felt a question on his tongue but he held it back at the last moment. He wasn’t sure if it would be considered rude to ask.
“It’s fine,” said Imara, smiling softly at him. “You may ask me whatever you wish.”
Patrick hesitated only a moment. “Does it bother you?” he asked. “That you have no soul?”
“Having a soul comes with a whole host of burdens and blessings,” Imara said. “You can live forever, but your physical life is a short one. You can feel love, hope and excitement — but you can also feel pain, sadness and disappointment. Some angels have craved for the thrills and pleasures that come with being human, but others are content to serve. The purpose of an angel is to serve. The purpose of a human is to live.”
“Is that why he chased humanity?” Patrick asked.
“Lucifer?” Imara asked.
Patrick nodded.
“Ah, only Lucifer can explain her reasons to you…”
“Her?” Patrick asked.
Imara nodded. “She was never content to do her part. She was forever staring into the portal to Earth and watching. She envied the human interactions; she thought they were amusing and she liked to be amused. When Cronus approached her, he seemed to understand her fascination with the humans. Their friendship was the beginning of the end.”
“Did you know?” Patrick asked.
Imara laughed darkly. “Did we know then that their alliance would lead to the destruction of two worlds?” she asked. “No… we did not know. Or we might have acted differently.”
“Destruction of two worlds?” Patrick repeated, as he felt a draft of cold wind brush up against him. “What do you mean?”
“You know what’s happening on Earth,” Imara said. “Earth is dying.”
“Dying?” Patrick repeated, as fear gripped him. “It’s dying on us?”
“The Titans tied their fate to the fate of humanity when they began to rely on worship for their power,” Imara explained. “And by accepting the Titans into their realm, the humans sealed their fate as well. Faith is what fuels Earth, Patrick. And over the last century, faith has faded. Most people do not pray any more. They do not worship. They do not believe in anything bigger than themselves. It is the reason your kind face extinction.”
“People believe that Greek Gods and Goddesses were nothing more than myths.”
“The Gods and Goddesses you speak off are not Greek at all,” Imara corrected him. “They are the Gods of Tartarus, and they were worshipped everywhere, in every continent in the Earth. It is just that some cultures clung to the faith more closely than others. The Greeks are just one example.”
Patrick remembered the promise he'd made to Diane. He'd assured her that his mission was twofold. Find and save Tess, and then help save the Earth. No pressure.
“I want to save my daughter,” Patrick told Imara. “But there's no point in saving her if she doesn’t have a home to go back to.”
“You will help me then?”
“In any way I can,” Patrick admitted. “I just don’t know what I can do for you.”
“That key in your hand,” Imara said. “May I see it?”
Patrick’s fingers tightened around the key. This was his ticket out of The Hades, and he wasn't going to risk it by handing it over to a stranger. Even if the stranger was an angel.
Patrick held it up for Imara to see, but held it tight. No matter what happened, Patrick knew he had to keep the key close.
“It is magnificent,” Imara said.
“Is it true that it was carved from wood from the World Tree?”
“Partly true,” Imara nodded. “There was a certain amount of magic used: a combination of both Cronus and Lucifer’s power.”
“Magic?” Patrick asked. He was struggling to grasp this terrifying new world he was in.
“It is not magic as you know it on Earth,” Imara said. “Our magic is different.”
Patrick raised his eyebrows. “Can you use your magic to find Tess?”
“I’m afraid I don’t have the power to do that,” Imara said gently. “But you do.”
“Me?” Patrick asked. “I
can barely comprehend where I am right now. I don’t know what to do or how to do it. I don’t feel powerful at all.”
Imara smiled. “Have a little faith, Patrick,” she said gently. “As I said, I will help you. All you need to do is close your eyes, think of Tess and call her to you.”
Patrick frowned. “What?”
“Usually when a man or woman dies, they travel through the Hades and move on to different worlds. Some of them can be solitary, but others seek out company — the company of those they loved on Earth. Souls recognize one another, Patrick,” Imara explained. “Souls can follow one another if need be. Tess’s body is still alive on Earth is it not?”
“It is,” Patrick nodded.
“Then her soul will be here, somewhere in The Hades. It doesn’t work for everyone. You can do it only with souls that you share a strong enough bond with. You can use that bond to call upon those who have come here before you.”
“But how?”
“Concentrate,” Imara counseled him. “Close your eyes and think about Tess. Think about the love you bear her, and the thought of seeing her again. Then call out for her. You can speak her name if you choose, or you call it out in your mind. It does not matter. She will come.”
She will come. Those words sounded so sweet to Patrick, but fear gripped his heart as he realized how terrified he was of failing. What if Tess didn’t appear?
“Let go of your doubt, Patrick,” Imara said gently. “It will inhibit you. Think of Tess, of how much you love her. Think of her as a sweet babe in your arms, and remember what it felt like to protect her, to want to save her.”
Patrick felt himself get a little lighter as Imara’s calm words broke through his mess of panic. She was right. He loved his daughter and that love would call her to him. Patrick was sure he'd know exactly what to do when Tess was standing in front of him.
He closed his eyes and let Tess fill his mind. He thought about that fragile moment in the maternity ward, when she was placed in his arms for the first time. She weighed in at seven pounds, three ounces. She had a shock of brown hair, lighter than his, and dewy eyes that looked up at him in confused wonder.
He remembered her first months on Earth, bawling with colic until Patrick rushed into the nursery to pick her up. He was the only one who could calm her in those moments. She preferred his touch and his voice even to her mother’s, and perhaps their bond had been forged during those dark nights while Carrie had slept.