by Eva Brandt
“A bonus,” I finished when he trailed off. “Yes, I see what you mean. You’re right. It is a matter of connecting with Hades, of truly being welcomed here.”
Orthrus started wagging his tail again, happy that he had apparently changed my mind. “Yes, precisely! I knew you would understand. Come, come. I will show you my favorite spot. It is very high up and you can see all the way down, toward The Elysian Fields and The Asphodel Meadows.”
I followed him up the cobblestone path, into a deep forest with trees that didn’t exist in our world. Their branches leaned toward me as I walked, and my heart clenched as I remembered my own woods back at home, all the time I’d spent in The Gardens of Edenia with my people, or in The Forest of Purity with Cloud and his herd.
The soft susurration of a stream reached my ears, snapping me out of my thoughts. It sounded so comforting, like a song that reached out into my very core and soothed my wounded magic.
“We’re close to the spot now,” one of Orthrus’s heads whispered. “You’ll like it. You’ll see.”
I followed him in silence, curious about our destination. Was it something I could use in my potential escape? If it was as high up as Orthrus claimed, perhaps it could give me a better view of the paths I could access from my current location.
The stream I had heard soon came into view, its glittering waters licking over the gentle slope of the ground in almost hypnotic patterns. There was no bridge across, but it seemed shallow enough that I could cross it on foot.
Orthrus didn’t intend to allow that. “You should get on my back, Queen Eiar. I’ll carry you over.”
“That’s really not necessary,” I protested. “You’re not my mount.”
“Please. I insist. You shouldn’t get your feet wet.”
He gave me a pleading look, and I subsided, much like I had done countless times in the past when Cloud had been the one to make the request. Orthrus was not quite as tall as a unicorn, but his height was more than enough to achieve his self-appointed task. When I climbed on top of him, my feet didn’t brush the ground. As Orthrus ventured into the stream, I didn’t touch the water, although I was vaguely tempted to at least dip my toes in, to see if it was as warm and inviting as it looked.
The lookout point Orthrus had wanted to show me was not very far from the stream, and within a couple of minutes, Orthrus got us there. He didn’t bother stopping to allow me to get off. Instead, he just continued to carry me, coming to a halt only when he reached the very edge of the so-called island we were on.
This part of Elysium seemed to be levitating mid-air, unsupported by anything palpable. I couldn’t see any roads that could help me in my escape plan. The only thing that connected the islands to The Elysian Fields below was the river we’d just crossed. It winded around the floating paradise in spirals that defied reality. The closer it got to the fields, the larger it became, and the end result was a peculiar circular waterfall that made no logical sense.
“This ledge is the highest point in Hades,” Orthrus confessed. “Some of the palaces of the gods are a little taller, but they don’t count. This is the place where you can truly connect with our realm and realize that you belong here.”
I dismounted him and walked up to the very edge, staring out into the distance and pondering if I would be able to summon the winds of spring here. Probably not. “Do you really think that, Orthrus? Do you really think I belong here?”
“Of course, Your Majesty. Otherwise, I would not be supporting King Fufluns’s plan, to begin with. We need a new queen, someone who can cherish and protect us just like you and your sisters protect The Realms of Time. We’ve never really had that, you see. It’s unfair. Why should the mortal world be the only one that benefits from kindness and affection?”
The latter question came out with a growl, but it didn’t frighten me. However, it did take me aback, since his new attitude clashed with the somewhat more submissive behavior he’d displayed before. “Orthrus, I—”
“Don’t get me wrong, Your Majesty,” Orthrus cut me off. “I know that this is selfish of me. It is very selfish to make this request and to steal you away from the home you saw as yours for so long. But things change all the time. You can build a new home here, with us, where you will always be happy and safe. You won’t ever have to suffer and bear the burdens you used to carry. We will be with you every step of the way.”
I shook my head, more confused than ever before. I didn’t understand why he seemed so convinced that I was so important and I absolutely needed to stay here. Fufluns presumably wanted me as his wife/bed slave. But Orthrus? Why would he show such interest? And what about the centaurs? They had seemed in awe with me as well. That didn’t make any sense. They came into contact with actual gods on a regular basis. I might have been a queen, but I was only a demigod. In the big picture, my parentage wasn’t that impressive.
“There are plenty of other people who are capable of doing everything I can. Why me?”
“Because you are inexorably bound to the underworld,” Orthrus answered without missing a beat. “I can sense it in you, all over you. Everyone else can. You are a queen of the living, but you are also one dedicated to the dead.”
His words befuddled me. “I don’t understand. You’re talking in riddles.” Mythological beasts were supposed to be straightforward, damn it. Why had Orthrus chosen this exact moment to become cryptic?
“It’s not his fault,” a different voice suddenly said.
I turned, only to see one of the centaurs from earlier emerge from the forest. “Everyone else always leaves,” he whispered. “But you will stay.”
“And why are you so certain?” I asked, narrowing my eyes at him. Suddenly, I had a very bad feeling. “Why would I stay, unlike all the others who came before me?”
Several more centaurs showed up, surrounding me from all angles. “Because you’ll want to.”
“You won’t have a choice.”
The centaurs trotted up to me, so much taller and larger than I was. Despite myself, I took a step back.
My mother had warned me about the appetites of such beings. Most of them were slaves to their bestial natures, and it wasn’t that unusual for centaurs to attack nymphs and try to take advantage of them. It was part of the reason why no centaurs lived in Chronikos. They simply could not be trusted to fall in line with the orders of any sovereign, and they could have been dangerous for most of my subjects.
Normally, I wouldn’t have had any trouble dealing with a centaur. However, right now, I was weak. I could barely feel my magic at all. I was trying to recover, but down here, in this isolated, secluded realm, it was slow-going. I didn’t know if I could fight them off if they decided to take what wasn’t freely given.
The centaurs made no attempt to approach me sexually. “Do not fear, Queen Eiar,” the first one said. “We are not the ones who will claim your body and your heart. We know that would end in disaster, and unlike King Fufluns, we have no desire to tempt fate.”
I pressed my lips together, hating that they had seen straight through me so easily. “What do you desire then? For me to be your queen? That is insane.”
“It might seem like it now, but I promise you, you will change your mind. Soon, it’ll be in your best interest to make Hades prosper. You will want to give yourself and everything you are to our realm, for their sake.”
I looked from each of the centaurs to Orthrus, more confused than ever before. “Their sake? Who are you all talking about?” When Orthrus didn’t immediately reply, my temper flared and I raised my voice at him. “Orthrus! Tell me, damn it. I think I at least deserve to know what everyone wants of me.”
The conversation with Fufluns had been creepy enough, but now this odd centaur herd had decided to corner me with cryptic threats about me being their destined queen. Leaving aside the mild sexual undertones of their behavior, they seemed far too certain of their success for my comfort. And then there was Orthrus, who had been acting stranger and stranger since our departure from the pala
ce.
I didn’t know him very well, but my first impression had been that he was at least subservient to Fufluns, if not loyal to him. The longer we spoke, the less I believed that.
“Whose side are you really on, Orthrus?”
“I would think the answer would be obvious, Queen Eiar,” Orthrus replied softly. “I’m on my own side. But you are right. You deserve an explanation. Your Majesty, let me put this bluntly. Your soulmates are heading our way as we speak. They will cross the river Styx, and once they do that, they will not be able to turn back. Their undead nature will leave them trapped here, and it’ll trap you as well. Your powers will belong to us, and you will have no choice but to be our queen, because there will be no way out for you, not anymore.”
* * *
Adrian
Every single legend we’d heard throughout our lives had warned us about the high number of terrible monsters, demigods and demons that watched the entrance to the underworld. Guardians that never slept, boatmen that refused to allow you to cross the river if you didn’t go through the right process, polycephalous beasts, mostly of a canine variety—Hades had it all.
Therefore, we expected to be attacked almost as soon as we entered the underworld. We weren’t.
The cavern we stumbled into was so dark that despite our vampiric sight, we had trouble making our way forward. Baltasar took the lead at first, as his senses were sharper and he could, in theory, guide us better. One minute later, he tripped and nearly broke his neck against a rocky outcropping. Cezar took over. He was a little more successful, but it was still slow going since we were literally walking blind.
I wanted to offer to try. My magic was the best possible guide we could have down here. However, I was a little more breakable than Cezar and Baltasar. We still had no idea what effect being here would have on us. We needed to be careful and pace ourselves if we wanted to make it out of here in one piece and save Eranthe.
The deeper we went, the thicker and mustier the air became. As the corridor we’d entered reached a sharp drop, a foul odor hit our nostrils. I grimaced but didn’t shy away from it. “Well, this brings back unfortunate memories.”
“Uncle Octavian’s revenants smell far worse,” Cezar replied. “The oldest ones are absolutely vile.”
“I think the oldest ones were the Grand Lich’s creations, though,” I pointed out. “He doesn’t have a sense of smell, so he doesn’t care.”
“That would explain a lot.” Baltasar eyed the drop carefully as if pondering our options. “Do you suppose we can fly, or should we just climb down?”
“Climbing might be safer,” I replied. “So far, I haven’t spotted any magical side-effects, but I’m not sure how long our luck will hold. It’s best to not take any chances.”
They agreed with me, and one by one, we made our way deeper into the grotto. The climb down was both incredibly tense and tedious in the extreme. We had to be extra careful, just in case someone was planning to jump us from the shadows. However, nothing of relevance happened, and by the time we reached the bottom, my temper had become even fouler than the stench in the air. And here I’d thought it wasn’t possible for me to be more infuriated than I’d already been.
On the bright side, as soon as we left the narrow tunnel, the luminosity in the area started to increase. We were now in a more spacious cavern artistically decorated with skulls and rotting dead bodies. I couldn’t see any source of light, but I could... see, which was a huge improvement. I tentatively tested our current location for traces of magic and pinpointed the direction we were supposed to be headed in.
“It’s that way,” I whispered, pointing to the right. “Eranthe is that way.”
I didn’t tell them to be on their guard, because I didn’t need to. They could feel the rising pressure as well as I did and knew what it meant. We were getting close to the point when we’d actually have to fight our way through.
Everything now depended on who we actually ran into. If we had to face the chimera or the harpies, we’d have a rough time. Still, we had not come unprepared, and I was tentatively hopeful that our plan would succeed. I didn’t believe in coincidences, no, but I did believe in signs. Sometimes, the path you were supposed to tread was shown to you in painful ways you didn’t understand until later. Granted, if someone had told me when I’d left The Voievodat that I’d be headed into Hades in the near future, I’d have probably canceled the whole trip and moved to Ton Angélon. But that would have meant that we’d have never met Eranthe, which was just not something I wanted. We’d been so very lucky when we’d found her. No matter how this journey ended, I would always believe that.
Sadly, our good fortune had finally deserted us, as we soon came upon the worst possible thing we could find. Our cavern opened into a far wider grotto that extended as far as the eye could see. It could have easily been as cramped as the tunnel we’d gone through when we’d been climbing down because the Hecatoncheires were occupying all the space within view.
Wonderful.
The three giants seemed oblivious to our presence, looming above us like malevolent monoliths. That state of affairs could change any moment now. The problem with having to face three creatures with fifty heads was that, put together, they had three hundred eyes, so trying to sneak past them was folly. Between that and the three hundred hands, we were in trouble.
“I’ll try to see what they’re doing,” Cezar mouthed at me. “Wait here.”
I wanted to protest, but I knew I could not. When we’d come here, we’d been well aware that we’d have to take chances. This was only the beginning, and we couldn’t back out now.
His form melted into his smaller, bat shape and he flew out of our hiding spot, into the larger cavern. My heart started to race and I gripped Baltasar’s shoulder in an attempt to fight off my panic. It would be so easy for Cezar to get himself killed now. One false move and he could be squashed under the massive feet of the three giants. He was a good flier, but could he really avoid all those hands? If he couldn’t... The mental image that popped in my head at the thought made my stomach roil. I didn’t know if there were any gods out there that actually listened to the undead, but I still prayed.
As it turned out, Cezar was not gone for long. All of a sudden, snow started to fall, clouding our vision and keeping Cezar from making any progress. He backtracked quickly and returned to our side, narrowly avoiding being buried under the white mass.
“Why in the name of the gods is it snowing?” I whispered.
Baltasar sniffed the air, his eyes glinting as he analyzed the falling substance. “I don’t think it is. That’s not snow.”
I stared at him, befuddled. It wasn’t snow? Then what else could it possibly...
My train of thought came to a grinding halt when the three giants started to argue in deafeningly loud voices. I couldn’t understand everything they were saying, since they were speaking through multiple heads, and some heads seemed to use different languages than the others. However, one exchange did come through pretty clearly.
“I told you we needed better supplies. I’ll never get this stuff out of my hair at this rate.”
“What am I supposed to do? It’s not like I can go to the surface and bring you shampoo.”
“No, but you could at least show some interest. Anything except filing your nails would be wonderful.”
“Filing my nails is important. You should do it too. You wouldn’t be so crabby if you didn’t have at least thirteen ingrown ones.”
Apparently, we’d caught the Hecatoncheires in the middle of a grooming session. I had no idea if the distraction would prove to be the most useful thing that could have possibly happened to us or an insurmountable obstacle due to the amount of dandruff and clipped nails raining upon us.
I shared a look with my friends. On their faces, I saw the same decision that lived in my heart. Whether it was a setback or an advantage, we’d have to move forward either way.
To be on the safe side, I tested my magic on
ce again. It responded just as easily as before. “All right. Let’s do this. We stick to the plan. Even if our opponents are terrifying giants, it should still work.” It would be tougher, due to how fast the creatures were likely to be, but we could handle it.
“Be careful,” Cezar told me. “You could easily get hit by one of those hands while you’re...”
I shot him an incredulous look, and he trailed off, acknowledging the futility and ridiculousness of that sentence. After all, he’d just done something very similar, in a shape that was far more defenseless than my own.
Baltasar said nothing at all. Instead, he just passed me the bag that carried our secret weapon, Veggie’s roses.
I stole a look at the crimson blooms. To think that something so beautiful and delicate could have the potential to do such damage. It should have been unbelievable, but somehow, it made sense. Eranthe was like that too, so these flowers which Veggie had created through her powers echoed her nature to perfection.
Clutching the bag, I cloaked myself in my magic as well as I could and emerged from my hiding spot. I stuck close to the wall of the cavern, avoiding most of the falling projectiles. A clipped nail still came very close to taking my head off, but I managed to dodge at the last moment.
When I was as close to the giants as I could get without flying, I finally took off, levitating toward the Hecatoncheires. They were still bickering and did not notice me. As I had hoped, my dark magic was, for the most part, compatible with the energies here, and that provided me with some cover and kept me from standing out like a beacon.
It was when I was hovering above them that one of the giants finally noticed something wasn’t right. He stopped mid-sentence and lifted five of his arms, gesturing for the others to be quiet. “Wait a moment. There’s somebody here.”
Cezar and Baltasar took their cue. Down below, Baltasar and Cezar flashed forward, moving toward the other end of the cavern so quickly I would have probably been unable to see them had I not been gifted with vampiric senses. They didn’t have a chance to lose the lumbering giants now on their trail, but that was not the point of this.