Hades, Vacheron and all the royal spectators were already there. Iolanthe and Lily stood together. Jack nodded to Lily and she waved back at him tentatively.
A vast desert plain stretched away beneath him in every direction. Several miles to the west, he saw the sea, glinting in the moonlight. Somewhere over there was the beach with the ship graveyard that he had briefly reached earlier.
Without the obstructive glow of city lights, the night sky glimmered brilliantly, illuminating the empty landscape in dim blue light. A cool breeze blew.
The platform stood high above the plain, at the peak of Hades’s mountain, and taking pride of place on it was an elaborate temple-like structure.
Jack took it in.
Whereas the elevator, the catwalk and the metal stairs were all distinctly modern additions, the temple was unbelievably ancient.
With its sharp pointed corners and strong stance, it looked darkly powerful, as if it had been built in honour of some cruel shadowy power. Every surface was a glistening, polished black.
It was two storeys tall, with a square base level and a smaller upper level that was accessed by a broad ceremonial stairway. A colonnade of columns supported the upper level.
A wide balcony with no rail ringed the whole space. It was also made of polished black stone. From edge to edge, the whole thing was perhaps thirty metres across.
Jack scanned the details of the ancient temple.
It featured many columns and arches, but as he looked at them more closely, he realised that the whole intricate structure had been cut, amazingly, from a single slab of black stone, the black rock of the mountain’s peak.
The rock-cutting skill that had created this place was extraordinary. It was simply exquisite in its precision, way too advanced for primitive man.
The lower level of the temple bore many elaborate carvings on its black stone walls: images of pyramids and suns, stars and planets, fantastical cities and magnificent trees, and several raised images that Jack had seen before.
One depicted the Great Pyramid being struck by a beam of light from the sun.
The Tartarus Rotation.
Another depicted five warriors standing behind four seated kings.
The Five Greatest Warriors and the Four Legendary Kings.
Jack shook his head. It was like reading the story of his life for the last twenty years, as if it had all been foretold.
The last feature of the space that caught his attention were five podiums arrayed around the ceremonial staircase, which he guessed were for—
‘Monsieur Vacheron!’ Hades said. ‘Would you please set the first five Golden Spheres in their rightful places.’
Vacheron bowed solemnly.
Behind him, five minotaurs held the five Golden Spheres that had been obtained by the champions in the previous challenges. They stepped forward with ritual precision and placed the spheres on the podiums.
No sooner were the glowing spheres set in place than they came alive with an even more intense otherworldly light.
Jack felt a deep rumbling beneath his feet.
He looked around for the cause of it and then he saw it: something rising up out of the upper temple.
‘Jesus Christ . . .’ Scarecrow gasped from beside him.
Lancing skyward from the upper temple, emerging from deep within the mountain itself, was a towering obelisk-like object.
Rumbling loudly, it rose and rose and rose, until at last it stopped, having added two hundred feet to the height of the already superhigh mountain.
It looked to Jack like a giant black stone obelisk, but instead of having four flat sides, it was cylindrical, its pointed tip conical.
Standing atop Hades’s mountain, it looked to Jack like an ancient version of the lightning rod that stood on top of the Empire State Building. The huge black obelisk must have been at least eight feet thick at its base. It literally stabbed the sky.
Hades beamed with pride as the great ancient antenna set itself in place.
Vacheron stepped forward.
‘The First Ceremony is complete! The sacred obelisk has risen. Only now can we commence the second phase of the Games. After that, we shall place the final four Golden Spheres on the upper altar and, having proved our worth as a species, the winning king shall receive the Mysteries of the Ancients!’
The assembled royals cheered.
THE SUMMIT TEMPLES
(AFTER FIRST CEREMONY)
Vacheron held up his hand for silence.
‘My lords and ladies. It is traditional at this juncture in the Great Games for our host, the illustrious Lord Hades, having consulted with his fellow kings, to bestow gifts on certain subjects. This could be an elevation in rank or a grant of land or title. It is entirely his prerogative. My Lord? Do you have any such announcements to make at this auspicious time?’
Hades stepped forward. ‘I do.’
Jack looked around himself and noticed that the assembled royals all stiffened slightly and leaned in closer to hear. Some of them perspired visibly or swallowed in tense anticipation.
This, Jack realised, was the one thing nobles around the world cherished more than anything: advancement. Promotion up the pecking order.
Hades said, ‘After consultation with my peer, the esteemed King of Sea, it has been decided that his long-serving Master of Coin, Mr John Marren of San Francisco, will be elevated to the rank of Duke. He shall be henceforth known as Duke of the Western Shore.’
Polite clapping followed as a broadly smiling fifty-something gentleman in a suit—presumably Mr Marren—gratefully shook hands with the Sea King.
‘Likewise, the King of the Sky promotes his good friend, Mr Geoffrey Yang of Shanghai, to the position of Lord of the Great Mountain.’
That announcement was met with impressed oohs and aahs.
Hades went on, ‘After consulting with my fellow king, his most esteemed majesty, the King of Land, we have determined that a love match will bring our kingdoms closer together. As such, my most noble Master of the Games, Monsieur Vacheron, shall have the hand of the Land King’s sister, the beautiful Princess Iolanthe, in marriage.’
Jack saw three responses to this announcement.
The crowd cheered happily.
Vacheron positively glowed with joy.
And then there was Iolanthe’s response. It only flashed across her face for a split second, but Jack saw it: a look of profound revulsion, which she quickly replaced with a tight smile.
‘My Lord’—Vacheron bowed low—‘you honour me. I cannot thank you enough.’
Hades nodded, but then held up his hand. He wasn’t done.
‘We have also been graced at these Games with the presence of another most beautiful young lady. A very important young lady whose lineage is perhaps the most pure of them all.’
Jack felt his heart sink.
Hades indicated Lily, standing beside Iolanthe. ‘Of course, I refer to the Ancient Oracle of Siwa, whom I have come to know as Lily. As many of you are aware, my son and heir, Dionysius, has not yet taken a wife. But every king needs a queen—as I know more than most, since the passing of my beloved queen five years ago—last night Dion asked me: “What better place for the Oracle of Siwa than on the queen’s throne of the Underworld?” I have thus determined that at the conclusion of these Games, Dionysius will take young Lily as his bride.’
The royal spectators erupted in vigorous applause.
Jack snapped around to look at Lily.
Her eyes met his, wide and horrified.
Beside Lily, Iolanthe gently took her hand.
Hades grinned to his audience. ‘But such joys must wait. Now we have the second phase of challenges to hold. Let us adjourn to the observatory level for the Sixth Challenge!’
At the same time this was happening, out on the beach to the west of Had
es’s kingdom, the Typhoon troop truck driven by Sky Monster and containing Mother, Astro, Tomahawk, Alby and the dogs sped desperately northward.
It was dark now.
The sun had dipped below the horizon and the beach was bathed in inky blackness. Without any kind of city or town nearby, there was not even the faint glow of electric light on the landward horizon. The only light was that of the slowly-rising moon.
Sky Monster peered forward as he drove, squinting in the night. He dared not turn on the Typhoon’s headlights, lest any of Hades’s minions were still following them.
They had been going for about an hour since Jack had destroyed the Alligator chopper, making good progress on the wet sand. About twenty minutes earlier, they had passed a final beached cargo ship and the Typhoon had shot out onto empty open beach.
The placid waters of the Arabian Sea stretched away to their left, flat and languid, while sandy cliffs still bounded the beach on their right.
Mother turned to Alby. ‘Okay, boy genius. The Huntsman says you’ve got a brain. So what’s the plan? Do we just keep driving till we run out of gas? Or till we run out of beach?’
Alby said, ‘We keep driving till we find some kind of civilisation. If we run out of gas before then, we get out and walk—’
He cut himself off when he heard it.
A deep rhythmic thumping coming from somewhere behind them—
With shocking suddenness, a second Alligator assault helicopter came blasting over the cliffs on the landward side of the beach, searchlights blazing.
The gunship’s searchlights quickly found the fleeing Typhoon and the chopper loosed a burst of powerful 30mm gunfire that strafed the beach in front of the truck.
‘They’ve been waiting for us to emerge from the cover of the ships!’ Mother shouted above the din. ‘That thing’s got way too much firepower! We’re screwed!’
Sky Monster braked and the Typhoon swung into a skid.
The big troop truck stopped on the flat sand of the beach, facing the hovering gunship, bathed in the glare of its spotlights, with nowhere to run and nowhere to hide.
‘Damn it . . .’ Mother breathed, bowing her head in resignation.
Their escape was over.
Flanked by minotaur guards, Jack and the remaining champions were shoved into the gantry elevator. They were to be taken down to the venue for the next challenge ahead of the royal spectators.
As the elevator whizzed downward, Jack found himself standing beside Scarecrow, Major Gregory Brigham and Zaitan.
‘The final phase begins,’ Zaitan said to Jack. ‘No more mazes. No more chases. No more places for you to hide.’
Brigham must have seen the confused look on Jack’s face. ‘What he means is it’s single combat from here.’
‘And we are all hoping to face off against you, Captain West,’ Zaitan said nastily.
Jack glanced at Brigham. The British trooper nodded.
‘Why?’ Jack asked.
‘Only one man can win the Games,’ Brigham said. ‘But if I don’t, I would die a happy man knowing I went down in history as the one who took down the fifth greatest warrior. I will fight all the harder if I know it will get me into a one-on-one battle with you.’
‘Aye-aye to that,’ Zaitan said.
Jack swapped a glance with Scarecrow.
The Marine said nothing.
A short time later, Lily rode down in the same gantry elevator with Iolanthe and some of the other royal guests.
While the royals around her chatted and gossiped, she stood stock still, staring into space, thinking.
She was trying to process everything that had happened. Dion had got what he wanted: her hand in marriage. She shuddered at the thought, repulsed at the prospect of spending a lifetime in this place as the wife of a monster.
And then, in the confines of the elevator, she overheard the boorish prince named George whisper to one of his young friends: ‘Vacheron just informed me that a chase chopper just caught up with those escaping hostages. Fools. To think they could get away. ’
Lily closed her eyes, biting her lip in frustration.
No matter how she looked at it, she couldn’t see a way out. Jack had done so well but she could see he was operating at the edge of exhaustion. If he even survived the final challenges, he would have no energy left to save her from her fate. It wouldn’t surprise her, even if he won the Games, if Jack met an ‘accidental’ death on Dion’s orders. Things couldn’t get any worse.
A hand landed gently on her shoulder.
It was Iolanthe’s.
‘Lily, I know what you think of me. But I also know how you’re feeling right now. I want to marry Vacheron as much as you want to marry Dion. To be betrothed to a vile man for my brother’s own strategic reasons galls me. Orlando told me it is my fate as a royal woman.’
Iolanthe gripped Lily’s hand gently but firmly. ‘Stay strong, Lily. Don’t give up yet.’
Lily looked back at her with defiant eyes. ‘I haven’t given up. I never give up. I learnt that from my dad.’
The elevator came to a halt one-third of the way down Hades’s mountain.
In the upper reaches of the mountain-palace were several fortresses that hung off the sides of the tapered peak and it was at one of these that the elevator had stopped.
As they walked out of the elevator, Iolanthe said, ‘These fortresses are known as the High Castles of Hades.’
They came in various shapes and sizes—some had multiple watchtowers with pointed roofs, while others had crenellated balconies; others still were squat domed structures. One castle even had an antenna array mounted on top of it.
All were connected by a network of sweeping staircases and narrow paths carved into the mountain.
The lowest of these structures was the one that ringed the waist of the mountain and contained the dining hall and the quarters for Hades’s royal guests.
As they walked down some stairs around the outside of the highest castle structure, Iolanthe said, ‘This is Hades’s own palace, his private residence. As one would expect, it is most sumptuously appointed, as befits the ruler of the Underworld.’
It was easily the grandest and most complex of all the High Castles. On the outside, it boasted many balconies and towers. Lily could only guess at its magnificence inside.
Descending further, Lily arrived two hundred feet below Hades’s residence and it was here that she saw the oddest-looking of the High Castles.
Jutting out from the eastern flank of the mountain, it featured a very old and very beautiful dome-shaped structure crafted from black stone bricks. It reminded Lily of the Mayan ruins at Chichen Itza.
‘We call this the Observatory,’ Iolanthe said. ‘It is an ancient astronomical apparatus that keeps track of the Hydra Galaxy.’
Fanning out from the dome so that they overhung the thousand-foot drop were three round stages.
They were positioned on three sides of the Observatory—to the south, east and north—and they rose in a step-like fashion as they swept up and around the ancient dome.
Each stage was different. The lowest one had a hole in its centre, like a doughnut. The middle one bore a statue of some kind. The third and highest one had a waterfall running across it and some statues, too. None of the three stages had rails. All three, however, bore small waist-high podiums on which stood a single glowing Golden Sphere.
‘What are they?’ Lily asked.
‘Like the Observatory, they also have a name,’ Iolanthe said. ‘They are the combat stages and it is on them that the final four challenges will take place.’
Led by Hades and Vacheron, the royal audience took their places on the upper deck of the Observatory, on a balcony that overlooked the three combat stages. Hades sat in a large elevated throne made of ancient black stone.
It was night now, so the Underw
orld, beneath its vast canopy of camouflage netting, was dark. Floodlights mounted on the roof of the Observatory illuminated the fighting stages.
Vacheron stepped out onto the first combat stage. He stood beside a podium bearing a single glowing Golden Sphere in a clamp-like mechanism.
‘My lords and ladies, it is now that we enter the most celebrated phase of our Games. Here, our champions will either etch their names into the annals of history or they will die.
‘We proceed quickly from here. The Sixth, Seventh and Eighth Challenges are variants of the same trial: mortal combat. Man against man. Hand to hand. No weapons, no aid. To the death.
‘The Sixth Challenge will take place on the first combat stage and it will see our champions reduced in number to four. The Seventh will further cull their ranks to two. At the conclusion of each of these two challenges, the Golden Sphere on each combat stage will be placed on Lord Hades’s throne.’
Hades gestured toward four bowl-shaped recesses carved into the armrests of his mighty black throne.
Vacheron continued, ‘At the end of the Eighth Challenge, however, only one champion shall remain. After the eighth sphere is brought to Lord Hades, that champion alone will face the Ninth and final Challenge, and the fate of the world will rest on him.
‘So esteemed are these first three challenges that the winning champion will also win for his king a special prize: the famed Golden Belt of the Amazons.’
Vacheron held aloft a glittering belt.
Made of thick black leather, it was embedded with gold plates and studded with jewels: emeralds, diamonds, rubies.
Lily thought of what Jack had shouted during the Fifth Challenge, that these challenges were the fabled Labours of Hercules.
‘The Labours,’ she breathed. ‘The Belt of Hippolyta, Queen of the Amazons.’
‘Correct,’ Iolanthe said. ‘In his Ninth Labour, Hercules had to obtain the Belt of the Amazonian Queen. To acquire it, he had to best many men in single combat. That belt is the origin of the championship belts awarded for victory in fighting sports like boxing.’
The Four Legendary Kingdoms Page 24