Who Let the Gods Out?

by Maz Evans

  Two things prevented him from fracturing every bone in his body. Firstly, there were only five steps. Secondly, his fall was broken by a soft landing.

  “What have you done?” whispered the soft landing angrily, throwing Elliot off her.

  Elliot spat out a mouthful of dirt.

  “Saved us getting clobbered by the security guards you summoned, Genius Girl,” Elliot retorted, hauling his bruised body upright.

  “We have to leave!” Virgo whispered.

  They both pushed at the Heel Stone above their heads. It was immovable. They were trapped.

  “I can’t be here. It’s against the rules. I’m supposed to drop the flask and go.”

  “Looks like the rules will have to deal with it.”

  Virgo gently pulled her palms apart to illuminate the cave. They were on a narrow ledge at the top of a winding iron staircase, which spiraled down into the endless gloom below. It was surrounded by a stone circle, which Elliot realized was a continuation of the stones above the ground.

  “Right,” said Virgo shakily. “The most important thing is not to panic. I never panic. Never, never, never. I absolutely never, ever, ever panic. It’s completely vital that I … ”

  “Stop panicking,” hissed Elliot.

  “All right!” said Virgo. “I’ll go down and see if there’s another exit. But you have to stay here.”

  Elliot never had liked being told what to do. Particularly when that involved standing alone in a pitch-black cave from which he might never escape. He swallowed back his fear.

  “Not a chance—I’m coming with you,” he whispered back.

  “No, you’re not! You can’t be here!”

  “Well, I am here. So get over it.”

  Virgo growled with frustration, but Elliot mustered as determined a look as he was able.

  “Fine,” Virgo conceded. “But stay close. And don’t … do anything.”

  Guided by Virgo’s faint glow, Elliot edged down the stairs behind the Constellation. Their breathing was the only sound to disturb the heavy air, the huge stones looming higher above them with every step that drew them farther into the darkness.

  They reached the bottom stair and looked nervously at each other before tentatively placing their feet on the cold floor. They scanned the cave with faltering movements, afraid of what their eyes might find.

  “Is that a … ?” asked Virgo, summoning more stars with her hands. A small stream ran noiselessly along the back wall. But apart from the odd spider scuttling across the floor, the cave appeared to be completely empty.

  “There’s no one here,” said Elliot at normal volume, taking a bolder step into the cave. “You’ve been conned.”

  “That’s not possible,” said Virgo, walking toward a dark spot beneath the staircase. “It just doesn’t make any—”

  “HELP ME!” screamed a terrified voice. A spectral figure launched itself at Virgo, knocking her to the ground and extinguishing her glow.

  The cave was plunged into total darkness.

  “Virgo?” cried Elliot. “Where are you?”

  The silence that greeted his question may have lasted seconds or hours, but was even more petrifying than the scream before it. Elliot had only caught a flash of Virgo’s attacker out of the corner of his eye. Where was it? And was it coming for him?

  “Virgo!” Elliot shouted. “Virgo! Are you here?”

  A weak glow pierced the darkness as Virgo illuminated once more. She was on the floor, dazed and rubbing her head.

  “I’m here,” she croaked. “And that hurt.”

  Elliot ran over and helped her to her feet.

  “What was that?” he asked, whipping his head around to see if it was still there.

  “I don’t know,” said Virgo, looking more urgently about the cave. “But we need to—”

  A faint sobbing silenced them both. Virgo slowly dropped her hand from her head and pulled her palms farther apart to light up the darkness. Elliot peered nervously into the gloom.

  In rusty iron chains, fastened to a rock beneath the staircase, was the most pitiful man—if you could even call him that—Elliot had ever seen. This figure was beyond old—ancient, in fact—with the remnants of a black robe clinging to his skeletal frame. What was left of his gray hair stuck to his skull, which was buried in his emaciated limbs. He was huddled, shivering on the cold floor, wrapping his arms around himself for warmth and comfort.

  “Prisoner Forty-Two?” asked Virgo uncertainly.

  The man lifted his head from his knees, fresh tears streaming down the thousand tiny crevices that lined his face. His eyes met Elliot’s squarely, with a look of longing and desperation that made the boy’s heart ache.

  “Is that what they call me?” he rasped. “I don’t know who I am anymore.”

  “I’ve brought you ambrosia,” said Virgo, extending the golden flask with shaking hands.

  “Thank you,” said the prisoner. “I’m sorry for scaring you. You are the first immortal I’ve seen in millennia.” His gaze switched to Elliot. “And the first mortal … ”

  “How do we get out of here?” asked Virgo, who seemed unable to meet his pleading eyes.

  “I will tell you. But first—please, could I have some water?” he asked, gesturing to a rusting metal cup at his feet.

  “I am forbidden,” said Virgo quietly. “The rules state—”

  “Why are you here?” asked Elliot.

  The man gave a weak, pitiful laugh. “The same reason anyone hides anything, child.” He smiled sadly. “Because they don’t want it to be found.”

  Elliot looked over at the stream. Virgo caught his glance and shook her head.

  “Elliot—you can’t,” she warned. “The rules state—”

  “Your rules,” said Elliot, picking up the cup. “Not mine.”

  He walked to the stream and filled the cup to the brim with icy water. He returned to the prisoner and placed the cup at his feet.

  “You are kind, child,” the man said, raising the cup to his lips. He shakily drained it, spilling as much water as he managed to drink.

  “You’ve had your water,” said Virgo nervously. “Now show us the way out.”

  “Behind that boulder,” said Prisoner Forty-Two, pointing to a huge rock on the far side of the cave. “There is a tunnel that leads outside. It’s how he left.”

  “He?” asked Elliot.

  “Zeus,” said the man mournfully. “He chained me here and left me to rot.”

  Virgo ran to the boulder and tried to push it. It was immense—and it wasn’t budging.

  “I can’t move it,” she said. “There must be another way.”

  “There is none,” the prisoner declared, looking straight at Elliot. “But I can move it. Simply free me from my chains.”

  “Out of the question,” said Virgo, the panic rising in her voice again. “We’ll stay here. The council will come eventually.”

  “In another two hundred and fifty years,” said the prisoner. “You and I can afford to wait. I don’t think our mortal friend has the time.”

  “You think you can move that boulder?” asked Elliot. “No offense, but you don’t look like you work out much.”

  The prisoner laughed his sad laugh again. “I am stronger than I look. If you free me, I swear on the Styx you will leave this cave.”

  “How are you going to do that?” asked Elliot.

  “I have many powers,” said the man, his eyes boring straight into Elliot’s soul. “Powers that the Gods don’t understand. Powers that the Gods fear. That’s why I’m here. I can do what the Gods cannot.”

  “Elliot, don’t listen to—” Virgo started.

  “I understand mortals,” the prisoner continued with greater strength, the intensity of his stare making Elliot feel as though he was invading his mind, trespassing among his thoughts, intruding on his feelings. “I know their dearest hopes; I understand their deepest fears. I understand wanting something so badly your heart might burst with longing. I understan
d loving someone so deeply the thought of losing them is worse than death. You know how that feels, don’t you, Elliot?”

  Elliot froze. How did he … ?

  “Elliot—come away from him,” said Virgo. “Come and help—”

  “Free me from these chains!” pleaded the man desperately, holding his manacles out toward Elliot. “We have both been wronged. But I can help you, Elliot. I can give you what you want most in the world. Just the touch of your hand. A mortal touch. That’s all I need to free me. I’m begging you. Help me. Let me help you. Let me help your mother … ”

  “You can … ?”

  “Elliot! Elliot, don’t listen to him,” said Virgo, leaving the boulder and breaking into a run toward him.

  Elliot drew a halting breath. If this man could read his mind, perhaps he could heal his mom’s? The idea of Mom back to her old self, back to the happy, healthy woman that he loved and needed, overwhelmed him. The months of hiding his fears as he watched her slip away from herself started to well up from the pit of his stomach, and Elliot had to force them back down his throat before they burst out of his mouth. This man could cure Mom. That was what Elliot wanted most in the world. That was all he wanted.

  He raised his fingers toward the chains, but Virgo was at his side.

  “No—don’t,” she said, grabbing his arm.

  Elliot shook her off as his right foot overtook his left, bringing him closer to the thick iron shackles.

  “Elliot, you can’t,” Virgo insisted, standing in front of him. “The rules clearly state—”

  Elliot stopped and looked into Virgo’s terrified face.

  “Her rules,” said the man’s voice in the cave, or maybe in Elliot’s own head. “Not yours, Elliot … ”

  There was an eternal pause as Elliot looked from the silver-haired Constellation in front of him to the wretched man behind her.

  “I’m sorry,” said Elliot. “I have no choice.”

  Elliot shoved Virgo to one side and made a frantic dive toward the prisoner. But Virgo was quick. She grabbed Elliot by the ankles, pulling him to the floor just before his fingertips could reach the chains.

  “No! You—don’t—know—what—you’re—doing … ” she panted.

  But Elliot was possessed with the strength of someone a moment away from the thing they wanted most in the world. He gave one almighty kick to free himself from Virgo’s grip, hauled himself to his knees, and threw himself toward the chains held in Prisoner Forty-Two’s outstretched, bony fingers.

  And this time, he made it.

  Elliot clasped his fist around the shackles between the prisoner’s wrists. Immediately, plumes of black smoke rose from the chains that were securing the man to the rock, melting the links away like sand. The sound of maniacal laughing from deep within the Earth filled the cave, making an overwhelming din.

  “He’s free!” The laughter reverberated around the cave. “He’s free!”

  “Wha-what’s happening?” Elliot shouted to Virgo.

  Virgo yanked out her What’s What.

  “Prisoner Forty-Two … er … chains … er … SOS!” she yelled at the parchment.

  Sorry, I didn’t get that, scrawled the invisible quill.

  “I said—” Virgo began again, but her voice was drowned out as the ecstatic clamor from below the ground reached a deafening crescendo.

  The prisoner rose to his feet and threw his head back with a victorious roar. When he brought it forward again, he was no longer the ancient, gray-haired scrap of a man Elliot had so pitied. He started to grow taller, stronger, younger. Limp black hair slithered down his long, angular face, meeting a razor-thin beard that brought his chin into a piercing point. The shredded black robe began to mend until it swathed his body like a shadow. His dark, lifeless eyes seared into Elliot’s skull. And around his throat hung a jet-black onyx heart inside a flame. The kardia of a Daemon.

  The world stopped for a moment. The prisoner was the first to shatter the silence as he dusted himself down and admired his restored form.

  “Thank you, Elliot,” he said as he towered over the boy on the floor. “That’s so much better. Those chains stopped me from feeling … quite myself.”

  “Wh-who are you?” stammered Elliot.

  “How remiss of me,” drawled the man. “My apologies. Two millennia underground have dulled my manners. Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Thanatos. Daemon of Death. King of the Daemons.”

  “Nonsense,” scoffed Virgo. “There are no Daemons left. Mighty Zeus destroyed them all.”

  Thanatos held out his onyx kardia for Virgo to survey. “I think I’m in a rather better position to judge that than you.” He glowered. “And I know far more about ‘Mighty Zeus’ than you could imagine … ”

  “I did what you asked,” said Elliot. “You have to help my mom.”

  “Not necessarily,” said Thanatos, stepping over him and grabbing a handful of Virgo’s silver hair, yanking her clean off the floor.

  “Yes, you do!” said Elliot frantically. “You said—”

  “Ah—there’s the thing,” said Thanatos, carrying Virgo across the cave, oblivious to her kicking and screaming. He reached the boulder and moved it aside as effortlessly as if it were made of spun sugar, stabbing daylight into the darkness. “I said it. I never swore it. Vast difference.”

  “You lied—” shouted Elliot, holding back angry tears. He charged at Thanatos, determined to knock the cheating Daemon into the middle of next week. But at the last moment, Thanatos deftly sidestepped the attack, sending Elliot crashing into the cave wall.

  “And as for you, my dear,” said Thanatos gleefully, shaking Virgo by the hair, his eyes burning with delight, “it’s time you went back to the Zodiac Council where you belong. Now, which piece of you shall I send first?”

  Elliot pulled his winded body upright. “Are you going to kill her?” he asked, unable to look at Virgo’s tortured face.

  “Gracious no—she’s only a child. I’m not a savage,” said Thanatos, wrapping his fist more tightly around the hair. “But I’m going to really enjoy not killing her.”

  The Daemon walked slowly toward Elliot, dragging Virgo on the floor behind him as if she were a garbage bag, and towered over Elliot’s bruised body.

  “I’m very grateful to you, Elliot,” he began. “And as a token of my gratitude, I’ll spare you seeing what I’m about to do to your girlfriend.”

  “You’re letting me go?” said Elliot, looking at Virgo, lying in a heap on the floor.

  “Absolutely. I swore that you would leave this cave. Besides, I have no further use for you. You may go.”

  Elliot knew that outside lay safety. But his feet wouldn’t move.

  “What about her?” he said, gesturing toward Virgo.

  “You didn’t care much for her a few moments ago,” said Thanatos. “I suggest this would be a terrible time to start.”

  Elliot locked eyes with Virgo and saw her pain and her determination.

  “Just leave,” she said unsteadily. “This doesn’t concern you.”

  “Ah—finally,” trilled Thanatos. “Some advice worth listening to. Good-bye, Elliot. Tell no one what you’ve seen. Or you’ll be seeing me again.”

  Elliot took a few slow steps toward the tunnel. Virgo wasn’t going to die, he told himself. But there were worse things than dying. He told himself that too. He looked back. The Death Daemon waved his fingers in dismissal.

  “Run along now. There’s a good boy.”

  Elliot sighed. There was nothing he could do for Virgo. She wouldn’t die. But he could. And who would take care of Mom if he did?

  He looked toward the daylight as Thanatos dangled his prey again.

  “Now then, my dear. Where were we?”

  Elliot tried to block out Virgo’s screams as he reached the narrow opening. He crouched down to crawl through the tunnel, to where the sunlight was shining on an empty field—probably on the other side of Stonehenge. The coast was clear. Elliot could go back to his
life and no one would ever know.

  Except for him. He would know everything.

  Elliot looked behind him again. Thanatos was shaking Virgo like a puppet on a string, delighting in her screams.

  A golden glint caught his eye. The sunlight was gleaming on something on the floor. It was the flask containing Thanatos’s ambrosia. It must have fallen out of Virgo’s pocket when she tried to move the boulder.

  Elliot picked it up. He knew what he had to do.

  “Thanatos,” he yelled into the cave. “Your ambrosia’s here.”

  “It’ll keep,” the Daemon shouted back. “I expect I’m going to work up quite a thirst. I’ll drink it when I’m done.”

  Taking a deep breath, Elliot went back into the cave.

  “Not necessarily,” he said, opening the flask and tipping it so the silver liquid teetered on the brink of the rim. “Let her go.”

  Thanatos looked murderously at Elliot.

  “Don’t be foolish,” he seethed. “You’ve made a powerful ally today, boy. Don’t turn me into an enemy. This will be the last time I ask you. Put. It. Down.”

  “And this will be the last time I ask you. Let. Her. Go.”

  “I mean it, Elliot!”

  “So do I,” said Elliot, allowing a drop of the sacred liquid to spill onto the ground, where it immediately evaporated in a golden wisp.

  The two adversaries stood motionless with their bargaining chips, Thanatos holding Virgo, Elliot holding the flask.

  “I’ll put her down when you give me the flask,” offered Thanatos.

  “No. You first,” said Elliot.

  “I said that I will put her down.”

  “Swear it,” said Elliot, his latest lesson in Daemon negotiations fresh in his mind. “And that you won’t throw her, give her back in pieces, or damage her in any way,” he added, quickly running through the most likely loopholes. He spilled another drop to underline his point.

  “Fine,” said Thanatos, seeing the ambrosia float into nothing. “I swear it on the Styx.”

  Elliot screwed the top back on the flask. “Let’s each let go in one … two … three!”

  “Elliot—duck!” screamed Virgo as she and the flask simultaneously flew through the air.