by G. E. White
“Just great,” Surina grumbled.
“I don’t get it; how can the stairs be out of order?” Quinn asked
“Probably a body jam on levels three and four.”
“Body jam?” he croaked.
“An overload of people burying their dead. It’s pretty common unfortunately. You’d think they’d never heard of cremation. It’s so much more sanitary and keeps people from resurrecting the dead.”
The teen’s eyes widened in shock, “People can do that?”
“Well not many, only those trained in god magics, mostly magi and the like. It doesn’t happen very often as its some seriously dark magic and downright illegal. Anyway, that doesn’t matter,” she said, shrugging it off. “We need to keep moving.”
He gave her a puzzled look. “And how are we going to do that without stairs?”
“We’ll just have to take the elevator,” she said.
She retrieved her old-fashioned gold pocket watch from her jacket. She clicked the face plate open revealing to Quinn the intricate pattern etched around the front, displaying tiny pictures representing the twelve signs of the zodiac. The middle of the plate was glass allowing part of the clock face inside to be seen.
Quinn had never seen a watch like it before and could not help but stare.
“You like it?” she asked. “It’s a protean watch – a gift from Lady Gaia herself. I’d never seen anything with such amazing craftsmanship. Almost refused to take it, but she insisted.”
Quinn tilted his head to see the inside face of the watch. Small sections on both the left and right sides of the face had been cut out to reveal the inside workings of the machine. The hour marks were in gold Roman numerals, and each number appeared to have some sort of image laid in behind. A fourth hand pointed straight up to the number twelve and the image of a watch.
Surina paused to wind the watch changing the extra hand to point to three o’clock, and the symbol of a weapon. The watch began to contort and elongate, morphing into a full-length sword Quinn vaguely recognized as a rapier.
His jaw dropped as he gazed at the new weapon. “Huh…” he commented, at a loss for actual words.
“The watch can change into a dozen different weapons or tools depending on what time you set the extra hand,” Surina explained. “Kind of like the ultimate swiss army knife.”
“And the goddess Gaia just gave it to you?” he asked, with disbelief.
“She did. I’ll admit I did help her with a problem, but she didn’t owe me anything really…” the woman trailed off; the shade of a memory seemed to flicker across her face. “Stand still.”
With that quick command, Surina began to mutter to herself – some incantation in Latin, a language Quinn had only heard in movies and the occasional sermon when he lived with the Johnstons.
“Rectis per aetheris parte aditus mihi. Et revelata est via et ostium.”
As she spoke, she used her sword to carve a circle around the two of them followed by the number seventeen into its center. Once completed, she stabbed the tip of the blade deep into the stone floor, gripping the hilt tightly.
“You might want to hold on,” she warned.
Unsure of where this was going, Quinn nevertheless obeyed and grabbed onto the sword’s hilt.
The stone shifted beneath them and suddenly they were falling. The young man let out an undignified scream as they plummeted down, stone floor and all.
Surina appeared bored as she counted aloud.
“Thirteen… fourteen… fifteen… sixteen… seventeen, this is our stop.”
And just as suddenly as they had started to fall, they stopped, the stone floor standing still beneath them. It took a moment or two for Quinn to realize they were no longer falling to their deaths, but he couldn’t see what was keeping them aloft. As far as he could tell it was just them, the stone circle and the hole they had fallen through – the thought was nauseating.
“Why doesn’t it keep going?” he asked.
“Why doesn’t what keep going?”
“The floor – why doesn’t it keep going? Why does it stop when we stop?”
“Well you see,” Surina began, only to stop mid-sentence, her mouth hanging open as she racked her brain for the answer. “Huh… well I guess I just never really thought about it.”
“Probably best not to think about it,” Quinn replied.
“Probably. Come on, I’ll make us a door and we’ll be on our way.”
“Yeah,” he said with a tremulous laugh. “I’d like that.”
Surina’s sword cut through the stone like a warm knife through butter. Carving out the door, she pushed it open to reveal another dark tunnel. They stepped from the stone and started down the corridor toward the light shimmering in the distance. It grew brighter as they walked and eventually the tunnel opened up to a large circular room.
The Hall of Erebus.
Quinn was overwhelmed with a feeling of déjà vu. He had been here before.
Such a feeling should have instilled a sense of confidence, but Quinn winced at the sensation of icy fingers clutching around his heart.
How did he know this place? Was Surina’s boss, right? Was he really a god? No, that was impossible. Wasn’t it?
He looked around him. Huge Greek columns formed a circle in the center of the room, reaching up and disappearing into the inky heights.
Several openings led off in different directions – tunnels similar to the one they had just exited.
Within the circle on a low dais, a pedestal of outstretched arms and cupped hands cradled a brilliant ball of fire, supporting yet not touching it. The flame flickered red, then orange, then yellow through all the colors of the rainbow.
Quinn was mesmerized, drawn to the fire like the proverbial moth.
“Olympian fire,” he breathed.
“Alright Quinn, enough gawking, it’s time,” Surina called, pulling him from his trance.
Quinn turned from his thoughts to Surina, who now stood on the other side of the fire, the flames reflected in her dark glasses. But despite the beautiful colours reflected in her lenses, his attention was immediately drawn to the shadows the young woman cast.
Though she stood directly in front of the fire no image was cast behind her, but two very distinct shadows branched out to the right and left of her. The one on the right looked like a stag, its front legs reared back as if to strike. Regardless of the shadow’s fierce and aggressive demeanor, Quinn felt no threat.
The one to the left, however, filled him with dread. The shadow twisted and turned to reveal a large hooded serpent with fangs bared. The shadow of the enormous snake swayed gently along with the shift of Surina’s weight upon her feet.
“But… but how?” he asked.
She smiled. “This is the real me. I’m human, yet at the same time, I’m also a descendant of an incarnation of Artemis,” she continued, pointing at the image of the stag. “The stag is one of her symbols.”
“So you’re a demi-god?” he asked.
“I suppose, though my relation to her is a bit farther removed. I’m her granddaughter.”
“But I thought that Artemis was a virgin goddess.”
Surina placed her hands on her hips, her head dropping down as she gave in to a light laugh. “You weren’t kidding when you said you read a lot. The incarnation that the name Artemis is tied to was indeed a virgin, accounts of her life then described her as someone you would call asexual. But just as each incarnation changes the body of god, it does the same with the soul. Yes, many things are the same… but not everything.”
“I guess I understand… So what does that stand for?” he asked pointing to the serpent.
Surina’s lips tightened into a thin line. “It represents the bloodline I inherited from my mother. I’d rather not talk about it.”
Quinn lowered his gaze. “Sorry I didn’t mean to pry.”
“It’s fine,” she snapped. “It’s not important anyway.”
Her tone clearly stated there
would be no more questions about her heritage. The shift in her gaze from Quinn’s face to the shadows behind him, reminded the young man of his purpose.
“Step forward,” she said, with a gesture of her hand.
Quinn did so, anxiety creeping through his stomach like fuzzy caterpillars as he approached the flames. The heat coming off the fire was almost too much even at this distance but he had to see this through. He twisted his upper body slowly to see what lay behind him.
Unlike Surina, Quinn cast only one shadow, yet it was not his own. Spread behind him was the inky visage of a great owl, its wings unfurled as if in flight. The sensation that the sight was both familiar and foreign weighed heavily on Quinn’s mind.
“Athena,” Surina whispered.
Quinn spun around to face her.
That can’t be right, I can’t be… her.
The initial reaction formed from the simple fact that Athena was a goddess, not a god. Quinn had no doubt in his mind he was a male, nor did he wish to be anything else. But what shook him the most was knowing what she stood for.
Athena had been a symbol of hope and wisdom – the patron Goddess of Heroes – a master strategist of battle and cultivator of skills. Quinn might consider himself a quick study, but wise or brave? Hardly. He hadn’t even been able to speak up for himself at his own trial.
Glancing back at his shadow it seemed to be mocking him, showing him everything that he couldn’t be. It wasn’t about the opportunity or the lack thereof, it was just about who he was and would always be.
“Quinn? You okay?” Surina called out to him.
The boy shook his head from side to side, his mind failing to supply the words to express his distress.
The older woman stepped around the pyre to stand at his side. She placed a hand on his shoulder, though he could tell neither of them was truly comfortable with the gesture.
“I know it can be overwhelming, but trust me. This is a good thing.”
Quinn tensed at Surina’s words. True, this development would mean he wouldn’t have to go back to Cedar Hills, but it brought just as many, if not more problems. His whole life was about to completely change and not all of it would be for the better.
Yesterday he had known who he was, what was expected of him, which in all honesty wasn’t much, but now… now he felt hollow. It was as if someone had scooped out everything he was and had thrown it into the fire before him.
He glanced back again at the winged shadow. This was not who he was.
“Yeah… Sounds great,” he said, his tone making it clear it was anything but. “So now what?”
Surina clicked open her watch for the time, before snapping it shut and stuffing it back in her pocket.
“Now we head back up topside. It’s already getting late and this is a lot to take in.”
“Okay,” he replied, hanging his head.
Surina frowned. “It won’t be that bad.”
“Easy for you to say,” he grumbled. “At least you were born into all this. I’m basically getting thrown head first into the deep end.”
“You’ll learn to swim fast. It’s like remembering how to ride a bike… in a badly-mixed-metaphor kind of way,” she said, stumbling over her words.
Quinn chuckled a bit at that, putting a smile back on her face.
“Come on, we should blow this place before…” Surina trailed off.
The young man looked to her wondering what disturbed her, until he too heard it. The rustling of another’s movement. Many others.
Picking up on Surina’s unease Quinn moved closer her, frantically looking around, trying to find the source of the noise. “What is that?”
Their gaze turned upwards to see the twinkling of over a dozen pairs of eyes shining like cats’ eyes seen down a dark alley. Surina moved slowly, reaching for her watch, though her eyes never left the ones staring back at them. She turned the hands again, this time to read five o’clock. The watch shifted in shape once more into a blade, but one heavier than the rapier she had held before. She lifted the broadsword now in her hand calling out the words, “Artemis, lumen!”
A gentle blue light pulsed out from her, illuminating the room for an instant. In that moment, Quinn saw creatures he could only loosely describe as women. The tattered and filthy rags draped about them for clothes, did nothing to hide the long since dried blood caking their skin. Their hair lay tangled and horribly matted against their scalps. Their eyes held a hungry and mad light as they crawled spider-like with spindly limbs down toward the two.
“Danaids!” Surina gasped. “Run! Go now!” she commanded, shoving him in the direction of one of the tunnels.
The creatures sprang from their perches in the shadows. Quinn faltered as he saw Surina make no move to follow him.
“I said get going, we’ll meet up later,” she shouted. One of the bestial women launched herself at Surina. Surina leapt aside with incredible speed, swinging her sword and taking off one of the creature’s arms. “I can handle this! Go!”
Blood splattered across the stone floor as the arm flopped down uselessly to the floor. Quinn gagged at the sight, having never witnessed such violence. Surina turned from him just in time to behead another of the creatures as it tried to snap at her shoulder.
Quinn reluctantly turned and ran towards one of the tunnels. Surely they all must lead to the surface eventually, he told himself. He tried to block out the sound of metal meeting flesh and the occasional shriek of pain as he ran.
The tunnel became darker and darker. Quinn could barely see a foot in front of him, but the sounds of a danaid pursuing him kept the young man moving.
Suddenly there was nothing in front of him and nothing below him. Fear and adrenaline confused him as to what was actually happening as he fell. Tumbling and wheeling, head over heels, Quinn lost all concept of up or down. He fell for what felt like ages and had no memory of hitting bottom.
~ Chapter 9 ~
The first thing that Quinn became aware of as he came to was the feel of his surroundings. The ground he lay on dug into him at odd angles, while the air hung heavy around him, dank and full of despair.
He cracked his eyes open and was greeted by a large cavern that stretched out for miles. A dim light filtered through the area via strange lanterns that stuck out from the naturally stalactite formed columns that supported the ceiling.
Strangely enough there seemed to be a path that wound its way among the craggy terrain.
Sitting up Quinn took a quick inventory of himself as he sat up, both relieved and confused to discover nothing appeared to be broken, though he did sport a new lump on his head. He glanced up and saw a gaping hole above that led into darkness, where he must have fallen from. It was obvious he wasn’t getting back to Surina that way.
He shuddered, remembering the shrieks of rabid the women that attacked them and hoped Surina was all right.
Quinn pushed himself to his feet and looked about; the path appeared to go on for quite a-ways in both directions. So which way should he go?
He stood uncertain for a moment before deciding that making a choice would be better than just standing there waiting. He followed the path to his right hoping that it would eventually lead to the surface or at least to a place he remembered.
Unfortunately one hill was indistinguishable from another, and with all the twisting and turning of the path Quinn began to wonder if perhaps he was going in circles. But as he set about the task of marking the columns with a stone he had found, he had yet to come across the same markings, so he must be getting somewhere, he assured himself.
He must have been walking for a couple of hours when he crested yet another hill, pleased to see a pole with several signs on it pointing in different directions as the path split at the foot of the hill.
Quinn jogged down the hill anxious to see where he should go, for surely one would lead him back to the surface. Reading the five wooden signs his spirits fell. “Acheron, Cocytus, Phlegethon, Styx, Lethe… what the hell does that
mean?” he muttered to himself.
“Means you’re lost,” hissed a rough voice.
Quinn whirled about to face three emaciated looking figures; but as he took a closer look he realized that they weren’t emaciated, but in fact translucent.
The one who had just spoke appeared to be a man in his late forties, his beard and dark hair peppered with gray. The clothes that he wore looked to be a confederate uniform from the time of the American Civil War. The man sneered at Quinn, his teeth crooked and yellowed with age.
“No need to be rude, Harold,” scolded the female apparition. Blonde, almost white locks floated around her face, which appeared hollow in places. The outfit she wore was a flapper one might see in a movie about the roaring 1920’s, while her accent was decidedly British. The cloying scent of cloves clung to her causing Quinn to shuffle away.
She turned milky blue eyes onto him and smiled, though Quinn found nothing reassuring in the gesture. “It’s okay darling, we’ll help you find your way,” she drawled, her voice saccharine sweet.
“Kind of fleshy isn’t he, Rosa?” the third one finally said.
He, like Quinn, was a young man, perhaps only a few years the others senior. The military green fatigues he wore were stained with blood, while his eyes held a strange hunger.
“That’s not exactly a bad thing, now is it Jimmy?” Rosa asked. “Besides, the young man obviously needs our help. And it would be nice to have some new company.”
Rosa reached out a skeletal hand and gripped Quinn’s arm tightly. “Come on dear, we’ll take you somewhere nice and quiet.”
What had started off as an uneasy feeling had now blown into a full sense of terror, but as Quinn tried to pull away, he found Rosa’s grip much more solid than her appearance.
“No, that’s all right,” he assured, attempting to keep the tremor from his voice as he slipped his arm out of the woman’s hold. “I’m just waiting for a friend… she’ll be here any minute.”