by Sierra Dean
We made it a block and a half without incident, long enough I tricked myself into thinking we might make it the whole way.
I was doing my limited version of hauling ass as Cade dragged me down the block, when the ground below us began to rumble. It reminded me of the tremors I felt when a lick of thunder would shake everything around me, the only difference being this didn’t make me feel good.
In fact, as the street began to creak and groan like the asphalt was being shredded from below, an ominous feeling came over me.
Not many things lived below the surface. Aside from the water gods, whose domain was strictly aqueous, and the mountain goddesses buried beneath the rock, there was a very small subset of gods who lurked in kingdoms below.
Only one immediately sprang to mind who would jump at the chance to aid the goddess of death.
If Hades was involved, then this battle was already over. The reach of the underworld king was boundless, and once he had his eyes on us—or a thousand eyes if he was seeing us through Manea’s minions—then I really didn’t know how we were going to get out of this.
A huge fracture ripped down the middle of the street, swallowing a parked car a few feet ahead of us.
We skidded to a stop, and I yanked Leo back a moment before the crack split the ground where he’d been standing.
“Whoa.” His breath was shaky, but all told he was handling this situation a lot better than I had expected.
The real bitch of it was, I could see the pink two-story house only two blocks ahead, beckoning to us from the corner. On any other day, in any other circumstances, we could have easily made it there at a sprint.
Except I couldn’t run, and there was an enormous chasm now blocking our path.
Heat wafted up through the new hole in the ground, making me take a few steps backwards instinctively. I wanted nothing to do with whatever was down there. Some gods I didn’t need to meet. In fact, the fewer the better at this point was my opinion.
The rain started to fall harder, blackening the sidewalk and creating rising licks of steam where it met the hot air coming from within the fissure. A half block down two figures emerged from the cemetery, ambling slowly. Glancing behind me, I spotted the body we’d hit with my car dragging itself in our direction. Soon the street was filled with bodies, all moving towards us with a steady, unhurried gait.
Curtains shifted in a nearby window, and I spotted someone staring out at the scene on the street with a mixture of amazement and horror. The second the woman saw me looking at her, she shut the blinds and off went all her lights. Similarly, other houses up and down the block drew their curtains and went dark.
People knew better than to get involved in the messy business of divinity.
The outlet temple still had its front-porch light on, a beacon through the falling rain and incumbent darkness. All we had to do was make our way through dozens of the undead and a hole that led directly to the underworld.
More rumbling shook the ground below us, and Cade pulled me back a few steps onto the sidewalk as we watched two more cars vanish into the steaming-hot abyss in front of us.
“We have to run,” Cade urged. “If we stand here, it’s just going to keep opening wider.”
Eventually it would reach the houses to get to us, and I couldn’t let that happen. The people inside might not be willing to help us, but that was their right. I wouldn’t fault someone for trusting their survival instinct rather than saving a stranger from angry gods.
I also wouldn’t make them suffer just because I was public enemy number one with the divine set.
Two blocks.
We could run two blocks.
I took hold of Cade’s arm, squeezing it hard until he looked at me. His face glowed in the orange light from below, skin glistening as rain streaked down his cheeks.
He was so handsome I wanted to kiss him right then and there, but this was hardly a moment for sweeping romantic gestures. There was nothing sexy about getting sucked into the underworld because you decided to waste thirty seconds making out with a dude.
“Whatever happens, you keep running with him, you understand?”
His jaw flexed, and a war waged across his features as he struggled with whether or not to say whatever he was thinking. Eventually he gave a sharp nod and said, “I’ll do what needs to be done.”
“Then what are we waiting for?” The asphalt made a terrible noise, somewhere between a shriek and a growl. I’d never heard an inanimate object sound like that before. It made me feel sick to my stomach, like somehow the street itself was in pain.
Everything shifted, and we all staggered at the same time. It was as though the world had suddenly stopped spinning, and we were trying desperately to stay grounded when all of nature wanted us to shoot off into space.
Leo slammed into me and I fell, unable to keep my equilibrium long enough to get my bearings. I landed hard, losing my breath momentarily. As I got up onto my elbows, Leo came forward to offer me his hand.
The street below me split, cracking like a dropped egg. Heat flooded upwards as the asphalt crumbled.
I swatted Leo’s hand away. “Go.” Everything in my brain was screaming at me to hold on to him, but the part of me that knew his life mattered more than mine wouldn’t let me reach out.
He grabbed me anyway, bracing his feet on the edge of the hole just as the chasm opened up beneath me. For a moment I felt weightless, like I could fly. Leo’s fingers trembled, trying to maintain his grip on my wrist. He had almost pulled me free when something got hold of me from below.
“Fu—” was all I managed to say before both Leo and I plummeted headlong into the open mouth of hell itself.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Oh hell.
We landed standing, more like we’d been transported somewhere instead of falling through realms. For the first time that evening I wasn’t the wooziest person in the room, as Leo bobbed and weaved and I had to offer him a supportive arm to keep him from toppling over.
And we were in a room. One incredible, breathtaking room that reminded me of beautiful old libraries with grand domed ceilings.
Only this room was built entirely of bones.
The glass ceiling was over fifty feet up, framed by femurs and tibias. Outside, a storm of fire raged, billowing clouds of smoke and flame as far as the eye could see. Inside, the orange glow was almost romantic in contrast, giving everything a warm feeling.
Beneath us bones were crafted in broad mandala flower patterns inset into the floor and finished with a lacquer to keep everything smooth and shiny.
I stooped low, running my hand over the slick surface where six skulls in a perfect circle stared up at me with their hollow eye sockets. Between each was a hand, fanned wide, and then petals of ribs bloomed outward from there, with clusters of hand and foot bones creating the spotted texture of lilies.
Every inch of the floor was crammed with bones of all sizes and shapes, each part of the human body—and some I didn’t think were human at all—was represented.
My gaze traveled upward to where seven chandeliers hung from the ceiling at even intervals, each built of more bones. Lights burned from inside the eye sockets, giving them an unnerving live feeling. The number of bodies that had gone into the manufacture of this site was uncountable. Thousands of generations of bones had built a temple to worship the land of the dead.
What had we gotten ourselves into?
At the far end of the room, perched between two long black banners that ran floor to ceiling and bore the white outline of the mark of Hades—the three-headed dog Cerberus—was a throne.
No shocker here, it was also built entirely of bones.
I was starting to sense a theme and would not be asking the god for interior-decorating tips before I left.
The throne itself was empty, which offered a temporary sense of relief.
Of course, nothing good could last. A moment later Hades swept into the hall in all his glory, followed closely by Manea. The
y were holding hands as if he were escorting her onto the floor of a high school dance.
Never had two deities been so perfectly matched to one another as Hades and Manea were right then.
Of course their paths brought them in contact on a regular basis, since she was the master of death and he was the master of the dead. But seeing them together now, it occurred to me for the first time there was something more than professional interest between the two.
Gods loved to get it on with each other, but typically those relationships were too volatile to last long. Yet the connection between Manea and Hades, even at a quick glimpse, was so full of respect and passion I had to wonder why I hadn’t heard anything about it before now.
Another new arrival to the hall distracted me from my overly romanticized feelings about the gods. Mormo slunk in and lowered himself next to Hades’s throne, looking ready to roll over and have his belly scratched at the slightest indication.
“You asshole,” I snarled, stopping myself just shy of running down the length of the temple and strangling him with my bare hands.
“Sssso we meet again, Rain Chasssser.” He grinned at me like he had no idea why I was upset, but the truth was I knew his glee was rooted in what we both knew he’d done.
“I hope Hecate slits you open and fills your corpse with the ashes of the newly dead.” I glared at him, no longer caring that I was speaking to a god. Mormo had done nothing to earn my worship or respect, and he’d get neither.
“Now that would be a ssssight to behold. Too bad you’ll be sssstuck here forever and won’t get to ssssee it.” Mormo gave me a smile so slimy it made my skin crawl.
I glanced down at the floor again, trying to compose myself. If I didn’t get my shit together, I was going to kill him, and that wouldn’t do Leo or me any good whatsoever. At the very least I needed to get Leo out of here alive.
The hands inlaid in the floor sparked an idea.
“Leo,” I whispered, hoping to get his attention without drawing any additional ears to the conversation. “I need you to steal my bracelet.”
“Huh?”
If I simply handed it to him, Hades and Manea would know I was up to something, and they’d stop us before he was able to get it on. But if I could get it into his hands without their notice, then he would be protected by Badb’s magic, and nothing here could kill him.
I’d be exposed, but I’d worry about myself later.
“Steal my bracelet.”
“Is this really the best time?” He gave me a quizzical look, and I returned it with an expression that said I had no interest in being questioned. If he didn’t know by now that I never asked for anything without good reason, he was about to learn.
He took my hand, squeezing it gently, and lifted it to his lips, dusting a kiss on my knuckles. The pure focus he kept on my eyes and the soft, sensual way his mouth brushed across my skin sent an unexpected shiver down my spine.
When he lowered my hand back to my side, the bracelet was gone. I hadn’t felt it move. The man was good.
“Put it on,” I added. “Now.”
This time he didn’t argue. He pretended to adjust the button on his shirtsleeve like it was the most natural thing in the world to do right then. After he’d finished, the linked hands of the bracelet shone around his wrist in the bright orange light. It was a tight fit, but he had it on.
I let my breath out in a whoosh of relief.
Light from above danced and played its way across the glistening floor, giving off the eerie impression that the bones were moving underneath us. It was a deeply unsettling illusion that also managed to make the floor seem unstable, and if I looked at it too long, I felt dizzy.
I glanced up to the windows overhead, and for the briefest of moments I could have sworn I saw bodies—charred black from flame—twisting and writhing in the fire, as if they were still alive. They were screaming soundlessly to me, but I couldn’t make out the words, and I was glad of that.
Swallowing hard, I steadied myself and said a silent prayer to Seth. If you get me out of this alive, I will never question you again. I will be the best Rain Chaser you’ve ever had, I swear it.
I doubted he could hear me from all the way down here. Storms in the underworld were outside his purview.
It also meant my powers were basically useless to me.
Hades stepped onto the riser and lowered himself into his throne, his hands resting on two smoothly polished skulls, one on the end of each chair arm. Manea stood next to him, her elbow perched on his shoulder, playing with the collar of his cloak.
They were like night and day beside each other.
Hades was dark of feature with jet-black hair falling in waves to his shoulders. His skin was tanned, rich and coppery, and his eyes were so dark they might as well have been black. Even from where I stood I could see them glow red around the pupil, like stoked coals burned from within. He wore head-to-toe black, from his polished leather boots, to the unbuttoned shirt that showed a hint of chest hair on his muscular pecs.
Guess the underworld had a pretty bitchin’ gym.
His long cloak swept out on the floor in front of him, pooling down the steps like a fabric waterfall.
He commanded a very frightening presence, all without saying a single word.
Manea, her fingers toying with the fur on Hades’s cloak, smiled at me. She was his opposite in every way except how scary she was. She was beautiful, ethereal, and it was hard to believe she was real even when standing in the same room as her. Her hair was such a pale shade of blonde it might as well have been clear, and it cascaded down her back to her waist, showing no adornment or styling beyond the crown she wore. A crown made of teeth and bone.
I shuddered.
Her eyes were as pale as her hair, crystal blue that bordered on ice gray. Looking directly at her it was difficult to imagine her eyes ever showed any kind of emotion whatsoever, they were so cold. She wore a white dress cinched around the waist with a belt also decorated in bone shards, and at the hem were thousands of marigold petals, ranging in shade from bright yellow to deep crimson red, making it look as if her dress were on fire. Her skin was so pale the bone fragments looked dark in contrast. The milky whiteness of her exposed arms appeared faintly blue under the glowing light.
Manea looked like a ghost.
Fitting, considering that was what she turned people into.
She leaned over, her blue-white lips grazing the shell of Hades’s ear, and whispered something to him as her hand slipped inside the open vee of his shirt. The whole time her gaze never moved from me, and I squirmed uneasily. I felt like I was watching something I shouldn’t be seeing.
“Come forward.” Hades’s voice boomed through the hall, rattling not only the hanging bones but the ones inside me as well.
I didn’t realize I had whimpered in pain until the sound was already out. Leo instinctively put his arm around me, holding me up. I did my best to make it seem like I could manage okay on my own, but I was grateful he was there. Nothing was less intimidating than pretending to be a hero and falling face first onto a floor because my legs were made of Jell-O.
Not all gods had such commanding voices. Hades reminded me of Seth, the way his words would not be confused for anything said by mortal men. It was as if he were scratching each sentence directly onto my brain, every word hurt, and he wasn’t even yelling yet.
I tried to imagine him when he was angry, and my brain almost shut down.
Seth was frightening enough when a bad mood struck. The god of the underworld could probably make my head explode with one well-phrased couplet.
My contrarian personality wanted to stay put, but the more dominant part of me that actually wanted to live long enough to see sunshine again obeyed the command. I moved forward with slow, calculated steps. Anything faster would have betrayed how hurt I was, and I was hoping to show as little weakness as possible.
They’d never respect me, but I might amuse them enough to give Leo and me a chanc
e. If they thought of me as an insect with broken limbs, it would be much easier for them to crush me under their heels. I needed to remind them I was human, and destined, and there were rules in place that should be upheld, even if their whims swayed the opposite direction.
My brain was working in high gear, trying to come up with a plan that might remotely work. I had some ideas—all bad—but everything hinged on whatever Hades and Manea had to say for themselves now.
Leo and I reached the throne platform after what felt like a ten-mile walk. Manea continued to smile at me with the kind of grim determination of a shopkeeper intent on selling me something I didn’t want. Her gaze traveled to Leo, and the expression shifted noticeably.
“Son of Seth.” In contrast to Hades’s booming voice, Manea’s was soft, like a whisper. It sent chills down my spine. Though her intonation lacked the snakelike sibilance of Mormo’s words, there was something eerier about her tone. It reminded me of wind blowing over ice. Like all empathy or warmth was gone from the room and I’d never feel whole or loved again.
A creeping chill settled in my veins, and I pulled my jacket tighter around me. In spite of the hot, billowing towers of flame outside, I was suddenly freezing.
“Hello,” Leo replied, meeting her gaze directly and not shrinking back from it.
“Do you know who I am?” she asked, like she already knew what she expected the answer to be.
“The evil queen from Frozen?” He smirked a little, the expression there and gone so quickly I might have been the only one to notice it.
I fought my natural urge to facepalm. “Leo.” Giving my head a stern shake, I glared steadily at him. “Not now.”
“No, no, Rain Chaser. He is the son of a god. If he feels so entitled to speak to me in such a way, that is his birthright.” Her smile was tight and forced. If she was actually okay with Leo calling her Princess Elsa, I would eat my own leg right here and now.
What I didn’t understand was why she was bothering to feign politeness to him at all. Her whole mission had been to kill him in order to piss off Seth. So why not try, now that he was here and relatively unprotected?