The Four Legendary Kingdoms

by Matthew Reilly

  Dion grinned. ‘There’s a reason why the Underworld got a reputation for punishment and damnation. Welcome to the fabled dungeon of Hades.’

  Some of the royal princesses from the luncheon were here, casually drinking wine as they sat on some racks.

  It was then that Lily saw the minotaurs.

  Three whimpering minotaurs were chained to a long wall, their arms stretched high above their heads. Red-hot brands hung from ropes an inch in front of their petrified faces. If they moved even slightly, their noses would be scorched.

  Dion stood in front of them but didn’t even notice them.

  ‘I’ve been thinking, Lily,’ he said. ‘About the future. About our future together.’

  ‘You have got to be joking,’ Lily said.

  Dion smiled wanly.

  He casually pushed a hanging brand into the face of the minotaur nearest to him.

  The minotaur wailed in utter agony as the red-hot brand seared the skin of his face.

  Dion let the brand swing away. The minotaur hyperventilated.

  Dion looked closely at Lily. ‘You don’t know it, but you are a catch. There is no finer prize in my world than the beautiful Oracle of Siwa.’

  Lily was appalled but not cowed. ‘And there is no greater coward than a man who tortures a defenceless creature bound to a wall. You’re psychotic.’

  Dion grabbed a rusty sword lying nearby, tested its weight in his hand . . .

  . . . then he nonchalantly thrust it into the belly of the defenceless minotaur, killing it.

  Lily clenched her jaw tightly, now more angry than appalled.

  Dion withdrew the sword from the now-limp minotaur and gazed thoughtfully at the blood on its blade.

  ‘I have asked my father for your hand in marriage and I think he will give you to me.’

  ‘Give me to you? Are you insane?’

  Dion snuffed a laugh. ‘It is customary at the halfway point of the Great Games for Lord Hades to bestow gifts on nobles: titles, land, brides. I know it is customary for a young man to ask the permission of a girl’s father for her hand, but let’s be honest, it wouldn’t be proper for someone of my station to ask anything of your father.’

  Lily shook her head. ‘What makes you think I would marry you?’

  ‘Oh, I think this might,’ Dion said, pulling aside a curtain . . .

  . . . to reveal an arched alcove set into the wall.

  Chained to the wall of the alcove in the same manner as the minotaurs, flanked by the princes Zaitan and George, was Alby.

  Lily lunged forward but Dion seized her arm and held her back.

  Alby quivered as he hung from the wall, trying desperately not to move, lest he touch the red-hot brand hanging centimetres in front of his nose.

  Dion said, ‘Great times are upon us, Lily. Over the next few years, monumental things will happen and the four kings will be central to them. I will be one of those kings and far sooner than nature intends.’

  Lily looked incredulously from Dion to Zaitan. ‘You plan to kill your father, Hades? The two of you?’

  ‘My brother and I are of like mind on this matter,’ Dion said. ‘My father—unyielding as he may be—is far too beholden to notions of duty and fairness. For thousands of years, the Lord of the Underworld has been feared, but today he is merely respected for his adherence to the rites of old.

  ‘No. Hades should be feared. The mere mention of his name should inspire cold dread. When I take that title, with my brother by my side, I will be feared by all, by kings, by commoners, by my minotaur slaves, and most especially by the wife who will bear me many children. When the time is right, at the end of these Games, my dear father will have a most unfortunate accident. I will claim his throne and then I will rule this kingdom with an iron fist.’

  Dion moved in front of the sweating, quivering figure of Alby. He hovered one hand beside the hot brand hanging so close to Alby’s nose.

  ‘Lily. Darling. You will be my wife. You will be my wife and you will keep my secret because you know that I can pluck your friends and loved ones from any place in the world, bring them here and torture them just like this.’

  With a sudden—unexpected—move, Dion unclasped Alby’s chains, letting him drop to the stone floor, gasping and free.

  While Lily watched, Dion crouched in front of Alby. ‘As for you, Albert, my secret is safe with you, too, since no matter what happens, you will be liquidated at the end of the next challenge.’

  Dion nodded to George. ‘Take him back to his carriage.’ He held out his arm for Lily. ‘Shall we adjourn to the viewing balcony?’

  This time, despite how furious it made her feel, and with a final desperate look at Alby, Lily reluctantly looped her arm in his.

  CHAMPION PROFILE

  NAME:SCHOFIELD, SHANE MICHAEL

  AGE:42

  RANK TO WIN:ABOVE 10TH

  REPRESENTING:SEA

  PROFILE:

  Captive participant.

  Captain Schofield has had a distinguished career in the United States Marine Corps. He has encountered our world on one previous occasion, although he does not know it: he battled (and defeated) the Majestic-12 group, one of our agencies tasked with maintaining global order.

  Ranked above 10th out of 16 to win the Games.

  FROM HIS PATRON:

  ‘I have every faith in Captain Schofield. He may not want to serve me, but he has a reputation for fighting to the very last breath. I like that kind of man representing me.’

  Garrett Caldwell, King of the Sea

  The Circus

  Thirty minutes after he’d left the dining hall, Jack found himself sitting in a stripped-down motor car, wearing his trademark fireman’s helmet.

  The car was a Light Strike Vehicle, or LSV, a small dune buggy used by various armies in desert environments. As a car, there wasn’t much to it: it was little more than a black frame on four wheels, with two front bucket seats and a single rear seat, a steering wheel and a rear-mounted engine. No windows, no doors, no extra weight: everything about it was light and fast.

  Sitting with Jack in the car were Sky Monster and E-147 since he was allowed two companions for this challenge. Jack had planned to bring Alby with him for this one, but when he’d returned to their cell, for some reason Alby wasn’t there. Jack had seen him return moments after he and the others had left.

  Sky Monster now sat in the driver’s seat—his right arm bandaged tightly—while E occupied the seat in the rear.

  Their car—as well as five other identical LSVs containing the other five champions—stood at one end of a long dirt-covered straight, the first part of a gigantic racetrack. With Zaitan and Vargas having elected to be exempt from the challenge, only six champions were competing.

  It was an ancient racetrack, an old chariot-racing arena known as a circus. Massive stone grandstands flanked it, looking down on the track. Right now, those grandstands were eerily empty.

  Looming above the grandstands was Hades’s dark mountain-palace. The royal spectators watched from an elevated balcony jutting out from it. Far below their balcony was the hostage train, parked on its tracks, allowing the hostages a clear view of the circus.

  Before he had been deposited in his LSV, Jack had been granted a quick look at the circus.

  Usually, a Roman circus ran in an oval shape, with two long straights and two bends, but this one had been modified.

  It had three straights that ran in a flat S-shape before the track curved into the tunnel hewn into the outer wall of the crater. Each straight, however, was fitted with a peculiar set of obstacles: broad square pits, all filled with water.

  ‘Champions!’ Vacheron called from a podium above the track. ‘Welcome to the Fifth Challenge, the famed Birdman Race! In years gone by, this race was staged with chariots. Today, we use a modern kind of chario
t, but the race itself remains true to its heritage.

  ‘The course consists of three parts: the circus, the Great Bend and a final dash through the minotaur city of Dis.

  ‘A single Golden Sphere lies in a cavern at the far end of the course, in a monument devoted to the birds beloved by the war god, Ares. To the champion who returns that sphere to the royal balcony will go the final reward. There is no punishment for coming last in this challenge: all who complete it will progress to the next phase of challenges.

  ‘At the conclusion of this challenge, the first sphere-laying ceremony will be held. After that, the second phase will begin. Luck to all. Start your engines!’

  Jack froze.

  Not at Vacheron’s final words, but at something he had just said.

  In a monument devoted to the birds beloved by the war god, Ares.

  ‘The birds beloved by Ares,’ he said aloud. ‘The Stymphalian Birds.’

  Sky Monster frowned at him. ‘What are you talking about?’

  Jack didn’t answer.

  Things were suddenly becoming clear to him.

  The First Challenge: a man charging at him, dressed as a bull.

  The Second Challenge: being pursued through the water maze by men dressed as lions.

  The Third Challenge: the deadly iron boulders, with their protruding blades fashioned to look like the tusks of boars.

  The Fourth Challenge: in which the jester had been dressed as a deer.

  And all of it done in honour of a hydra.

  Jack recalled the giant statue of Hercules wrestling the Cretan Bull in the dining room.

  ‘It’s been staring me in the face the whole time,’ he said.

  He even remembered the bust in the dining room of a stern-faced King of the Underworld labelled: EVRYSTHEVS.

  ‘Eurystheus . . .’ Jack said. ‘Son of a bitch.’

  Sky Monster said, ‘Would you mind explaining your realisation for those of us in the cheap seats?’

  Jack turned to face him. ‘Sky Monster, these Great Games are not just any old Games. They are a series of challenges, trials, labours. They are the greatest and most famous labours ever recorded in history. These Games are the Twelve Labours of Hercules.’

  Jack counted them off on his fingers.

  ‘The First Labour of Hercules was to defeat the Nemean Lion, a beast with skin that could not be penetrated by arrows or swords. Here we have Hades’s thugs, Chaos and Fear, with their lion helmets and modern armour.

  ‘The Second Labour of Hercules was to defeat the Lernaean Hydra. This has all been about defeating the Hydra Galaxy.

  ‘The Third Labour of Hercules was to catch the Ceryneian Deer, which I did in the last challenge in the wall-maze, while the Fourth required Hercules to catch the Erymanthian Boar—remember those iron balls in the Third Challenge?

  ‘The Seventh Labour was fighting the Cretan Bull, like I had to do in the First Challenge.

  ‘And the Eleventh Labour was to find the Golden Apples of the Hesperides. What have we been searching for during all these challenges? Golden Spheres. Orlando even called them “apples” one time.

  ‘And who was the guy who gave Hercules all his Labours? A famous king named Eurystheus, who is represented in a bust up in Hades’s dining hall, a bust labelled Dis Pater, Lord of the Underworld.

  ‘Classical historians have often wondered how a petty and cowardly king named Eurystheus could have bossed around a warrior as tough as Hercules. Here’s the answer: Eurystheus was the Lord of the Underworld and the ancient figure we know as Hercules was a champion in these Games.

  ‘The Twelve Labours of Hercules have long been considered metaphors. Because they were. They were ritual challenges that used animal motifs like boars, lions, bulls and birds.’

  Sky Monster stared at Jack. ‘That’s all well and good, Jack, but how is that going to help us?’

  ‘Hades said it himself,’ Jack said. ‘Only the classically-educated champion will succeed in these Games. I think a few of my fellow champions knew about this when they came here, while I didn’t. But, Sky Monster, I just caught up.’

  Just then, with a great clanking, a series of large garage doors set into the wall behind the six small Light Strike Vehicles rumbled open.

  Jack turned and saw eight very large vehicles emerge from the garages.

  Six of the eight vehicles were giant black trucks. Jack recognised them: they were brand-new six-wheeled ‘Typhoon’ assault trucks.

  Built in Russia by the Kamaz corporation, they were brutish things, designed to withstand mines and missiles and pretty much anything else that exploded. Standing on six massive tyres, they could carry sixteen men in their box-like rear compartments.

  These Typhoons, Jack saw, had rear compartments that were open on both sides, allowing him to see clearly into them.

  He didn’t like what he saw.

  Each huge black truck held twelve sword-wielding minotaurs.

  ‘I’m starting to see what this challenge involves,’ Sky Monster said. ‘While we race, they chase.’

  ‘Uh-huh,’ Jack said, swallowing. ‘Hey, E. Any chance those minotaurs might show you some preferential treatment?’

  E-147 shook his head. ‘These minotaurs from different region of minotaur kingdom to E-147; from south region. They train long time for this challenge. It great honour for them to kill or eliminate champion. Make no difference to them that E-147 be here with Jack.’

  The other two chase vehicles were smaller than the Typhoons, but still larger than the Light Strike Vehicles.

  They were Spartan armoured personnel carriers: steel-plated four-wheel drives popular with SWAT teams.

  Jack saw one other thing about these Spartans. Whereas the Typhoons were driven by minotaurs, the two Spartans were driven by men: by Fear and the Hydra.

  He looked at the thin frame of his Light Strike Vehicle. While it had speed and nimbleness on its side, it looked positively puny compared to the chase vehicles.

  Jesus.

  In the LSV beside Jack’s, Scarecrow, Mother and Astro were also looking at the enemy vehicles looming behind them.

  ‘Can’t help feeling the odds have been stacked against us,’ Scarecrow said.

  ‘Fuckin’ A,’ Mother added. ‘I haven’t been this bummed since Zayn left One Direction.’

  Jack was looking at one of the Spartan APCs when the little red figure of Mephisto jumped onto its running board, whispered to its driver, the white lion-helmeted Fear, and then pointed directly at Jack.

  ‘I think we’re in for special treatment,’ Jack warned Sky Monster. ‘Man, I hate that little red guy.’

  A horn trumpeted from somewhere and Mephisto scrambled off the track, joining Vacheron up on the podium that overlooked the starting line.

  Vacheron called, ‘Champions! Prepare for the race of your lives! Begin!’

  He thrust his arms high and the six Light Strike Vehicles blasted off the mark and the Fifth Challenge began.

  What followed was mayhem: total vehicular mayhem.

  The six LSVs of the champions whipped down the first straight at phenomenal speed, kicking up dust clouds behind them as they skidded and weaved to avoid the wide square pits in the ground.

  Behind them, the pack of black Typhoon trucks thundered down the track, engines roaring, minotaurs leaping from their open troop-holds and landing on the fleeing LSVs and wrestling with the champions.

  The minotaurs on the two Spartans had even better firepower: they fired shoulder-launched rocket-propelled grenades at the champions’ cars.

  In short, the racetrack became a moving battlefield of speeding cars, trucks, explosions of dirt and criss-crossing RPGs.

  Sky Monster drove hard while Jack pivoted in his seat, searching for enemy vehicles coming up behind—

  ‘Monster! Brake left!’ he called as one o
f the other Light Strike Vehicles swung in toward them and tried to ram them into one of the deep water-filled pits.

  It was Gregory Brigham’s car, driven by Brigham himself. Brigham gave Jack a tart salute as he shot off ahead of them.

  And then their little car jolted violently, struck from behind by Fear’s Spartan four-wheel drive. It rumbled along right behind them.

  A crossbow bolt whistled past Jack’s ear—fired by Fear, extending his arm out his window.

  ‘Get us out of here, Monster!’ Jack urged.

  Sky Monster gunned it and their LSV whipped around the next pit before swerving to avoid another one, forcing the Spartan to swing in behind it.

  Lily watched it all from the royal balcony.

  From her elevated position, she could see that the pits on the track were arranged in such a way that one could not drive in a straight line for long. As such, the six little cars of the champions swerved constantly while they were pursued by the six minotaur-filled Typhoons and the two Spartans of Fear and the Hydra.

  She watched in ever-increasing anger as the big Spartan APC harried Jack’s tiny LSV.

  Jack and Sky Monster’s car skidded at speed around the first turn of the circus, kicking up a spray of sand.

  Dust swirled all around them. Engines roared. The walls of the circus sped by in a blur.

  They were mid-field, travelling in the centre of the pack of Light Strike Vehicles, tucked in behind Scarecrow’s car. Up ahead, leading the way, were the cars of the Navy SEAL, DeShawn Monroe, the Delta operator, Jeff Edwards, and the Brit, Gregory Brigham.

  But then as they came to the end of the second straight, Brigham suddenly cut across the nose of Edwards’s car, forcing it toward one of the water-filled pits at the end of the straight.

  Edwards’s car careered toward the pit, but Edwards was a skilled driver and he managed to skid to a halt and avoid the pit . . .

  . . . only to stop right in front of Jack and Sky Monster’s car.

  Sky Monster yanked his steering wheel left and did a full 360-degree lateral skid. It was an amazing evasive manoeuvre, but it cost them precious speed and suddenly, as they sped in a wide arc onto the third and last straight of the circus, they had two enemy vehicles pressing close on either side of them: Fear’s APC on the right and a massive minotaur-filled Typhoon on the left.