Unseen

by Amber Lynn Natusch

  He did not respond immediately; he instead stared fixedly at something in the distance. When he did turn his attention to me, he was unable to contain his self-satisfaction.

  “Oh, ye of little faith,” he replied, then swooped down with lightning speed toward a mass of bodies below. They were all gathered around one individual.

  “Drew,” I whispered to myself before diving through the air after him. He looked exactly as he had when I had last seen him. It was hard to reconcile that with the knowledge that he no longer was alive.

  I landed somewhat inelegantly in my haste, staggering a few steps to right my balance. When I looked up, I was staring into the face of my brother, but he may as well have been a stranger. He knew not who I was. His lack of recognition was written all over his face.

  “Drew . . .”

  “He will not know you,” Oz reminded me. It was a harsh truth indeed. I nodded in understanding.

  “Who are you?” Drew asked calmly, seemingly unaware of his state and whereabouts.

  “I am Khara. I am your sister.”

  “Sister . . .”

  He rolled the word around on his tongue strangely, as if he had some memory of saying it before.

  “Will he eventually remember?” I asked Oz, thinking of Cassius and the others that I had encountered with Kierson. Their recognition of him had been immediate, but what if it had taken them years, decades, centuries to acquire those memories? My sadness at the possibility weighed heavily in my voice.

  “Yes. But I do not know how long it will take.” His expression remained unchanged. “You have seen what you came to see. We must leave now.”

  “I want to know what happened to him,” I countered in protest. I was not ready to abandon Drew yet.

  “I don’t know,” Drew replied, confusion in his tone. “Where am I?”

  “You are in the Elysian Fields of the Underworld, Drew. You were killed.”

  He looked off in the distance, searching for something he was not likely to find.

  “Yes . . . I was. I remember the blood.”

  “Pierson saw it all happen. He shared his vision with Kierson. Do you remember them? The twins?”

  Fierce concentration furrowed his brow while he tried to recall his siblings.

  “No. I don’t.”

  “Khara,” Oz said firmly. “His mind must heal. Bombarding him with further questions will only slow the process—if not derail it entirely. We must leave him be. You got what you came here for. You know that he is all right.”

  “He is not all right,” I snapped, wheeling on the Dark One with a venomous glare. “He is dead.”

  “And you cannot change that,” he growled, leaning toward me. His advance was met by my hand on his chest, which forced him to take a step back. In that instant, Drew moved forward to stand between us, bewilderment still running wild in his countenance.

  Little in life surprised me, but there, in that moment, I felt my eyes widen at the sight of Drew’s interference. What his mind seemed unable to recall, the fiber of his being easily could. He was defending me, just as he would have above. He knew me—he just was not yet aware that he did.

  “Time to go, new girl,” Oz ordered, looking past Drew to me. “I’ll allow his affront this time. Next time, I will be far less forgiving.”

  “You threaten my blood, you threaten me, Dark One. Shall we see how forgiving I am?” I growled. Oz and I stared at each other for a moment, both mentally preparing to battle.

  “You should go,” Drew said softly to me over his shoulder.

  “If that is what you wish. I will return tomorrow, and the day after that. I will return here until you greet me with the inexplicable joy you did when we first met, Drew,” I declared, grabbing his arm and turning him to face me. “And then, brother of mine, I will find a way to get you out of here.”

  “Until then,” he said; a ghost of the smile I had grown to expect from him pulled at the corners of his mouth.

  “Until then,” I replied with a reverent bow.

  I shot a glance in Oz’s direction before taking to the air, not awaiting his company. I knew that he would be at my side soon. As the wind rushed around me and the silence was replaced by the rhythmic beating of my wings, I contemplated all the ways I could return Drew to Detroit. None seemed plausible.

  “What you seek to accomplish will not so easily be done,” Oz called to me, his voice cutting through the noise that surrounded us. “There is no undoing death, Khara.”

  “And yet I will try.”

  “Your energy would best be focused on something you can accomplish.”

  “And exactly what would that be?”

  He paused for a brief moment.

  “Revenge. Retribution for your sibling’s life.”

  “That will not bring him back.”

  “No,” he replied coarsely, flying over the top of me, his body hovering just above mine. “But you have no idea just how good it will feel to watch the life of the guilty party slip away knowing that they’re destined for a place far worse than Drew’s.”

  A part of me ignited at his words. If I could not release Drew from my home to return to his, then I would make sure that the one who sent him to the Underworld would suffer for their crime. They would beg for death.

  I would see to that myself.

  10

  What had originally been a mission to return home and acquire the knowledge of my past quickly transformed into one of saving Drew at any and all costs. There was only one individual that could potentially do that, and that was my father. Storming through the maze of the Underworld, I searched for him until finally I came upon him.

  “Father,” I said cautiously, trying to rein in my anger at the situation. The task was far more taxing than I would have ever imagined.

  I was uncertain how best to broach the subject of Drew. In all the time I had spent with Hades, I had never known him to have released a soul. Not from the Underworld itself. I did not even know it to be possible, but my unwillingness to accept Drew’s death clouded my thoughts. Hope settled in like a fog. “My brother . . .”

  “I am sorry for him and you both, Khara, but I know what you will ask of me, and I am afraid that the answer is no. I cannot release him.”

  “Cannot or will not?” I asked, an edge to my tone that I had not ever taken with Hades. None ever did. Not if they wished to remain amongst the few living souls in his kingdom.

  He turned his sharp gaze to me, putting down the book he had been poring over.

  “What are you implying?”

  “Nothing. It was a direct question. I simply want to be clear whether this is a matter of your inability to send him back or your unwillingness to do so.”

  “And why, if I could help my princess, would I not?” he countered. “Have I not always done right by you? Has one week away from me in the world above changed that somehow? Distorted your memory of how well I have always treated you?”

  “Of course not—”

  “Then why, Khara? Why accuse me, however indirectly, of something like that?”

  “I just—” I started, collecting my thoughts while my desperation scattered them about in my mind. “I just cannot bear the thought of him being relegated to this place. Father, if you had known him, you would see that his heart is truly pure. Pure enough to deserve the heavens. The Underworld is my home—your home—but it is not Drew’s, no matter how peaceful the Elysian Fields may be. He deserves more than that.”

  “You barely know him.”

  “I have seen his worth.”

  “You have little to compare it to, my princess. I’m afraid that perhaps your evaluation of him may be unfairly biased. He is a warrior. He has killed.”

  “As is his calling to do so when need be. But I have seen the guilt that plagues him. The remorse he feels for every death he has brought, deserved or otherwise. If it is possible to be pure of heart and do the job he has been charged with, he is, and the world above needs him. The Underworld does not
.”

  He eyed me tightly, pondering my words.

  “You truly believe that he is above this place.”

  “Not above it,” I corrected gently. “He is just—he is special. He is unlike any other I have ever met. Noble. Loyal. Just. There is no gray area with Drew. Things are right or wrong, and he would never deviate from the path of righteousness, not even to serve a purpose. Not even to save me.”

  “I do not know that telling me that he would let harm befall you because of his moral code is an argument on his behalf,” he argued, coming to stand before me.

  “And yet it is. You know as well as I that there is not a soul in this land pure enough of heart to have such a statement made about them.”

  “And you are sure of your statement?” he pressed, staring at me intensely.

  “I would swear my life on it.” Again, he mulled my words over as though they were more than just a testament to Drew’s character. He was weighing something. Something incredibly important. “What is it that vexes you, Father?” I asked, placing my hand on his arm. “I can see it in your eyes. There is something you both wish to tell me and wish to keep secret. I implore you, please, tell me what it is. If there is a way—”

  “You know not what you ask of me,” he muttered, turning away from me to walk to his wall of books. He always found solace in them. Wisdom. Strength. With a great sigh, he unburdened himself, sharing with me something that he had told no other. “I lied to you when you returned here, Khara. There is a way to release a soul, but it has never been done. Ever. And I cannot be certain that your brother would survive it, even if I met with him and agreed with your assessment of his character. Further, if your assessment proved wrong, the ramifications would be both unenviable and permanent. Not even I can undo them.” He turned to face me, his sad eyes pleading with mine. “Would you risk his soul if failure meant an eternity in the Oudeis?”

  His words gave me great pause. The Fields of Oudeis were reserved for the most depraved souls that both man and gods had ever spawned. Its name meant eternal nothingness—an allusion to the realm’s unique torture for all who inhabited it. The Oudeis was nothing like the Elysian Fields, where relative peace pervaded. Drew had likely sent beings to the depths of the Oudeis. That fact alone was reason enough why he did not belong there. He and those he slew could not have been more opposed in nature.

  “If there was a way to know that it would work—”

  “There is no such way,” Hades interrupted, breaking me from my thoughts.

  “You have never done this before?”

  “Never. Though the ability was granted to me, there has never been one worthy of such elevation before.”

  “Let us suppose for a moment that you do this and it succeeds. What then? What becomes of Drew? Will he be as I knew him? How he was before he died?”

  “I cannot say,” he replied honestly, “though I know there is always a price when magic such as this is cast.”

  “To maintain balance,” I whispered to myself, a reminder of the message Hades had long imparted to me.

  “Yes, my princess. Yet another unknown to be concerned about.” He came to my side, wrapping his arm around my shoulders. “I know you care for your brother a great deal. That fact is clearly displayed on your face, but if you love him, it may be best for you to leave him where he resides. Wagering souls is a dangerous game, Khara. Both here and above. It rarely, if ever, ends well.”

  I could not help but think of Deimos in that moment. He had done precisely that—wagered my soul—and lost. The only difference was that he had not employed magic in an attempt to corrupt mine, merely dispatched the Soul Stealers to do the dirty work on his behalf. Neither he nor I had paid a price for the failure of his endeavor. Oz, however, had. A fact that I needed to keep tucked away in my mind. If magic had a price, I wondered what it would cost to cleanse the Dark One’s soul.

  “Then I will ask Drew what he would choose,” I said firmly, removing myself from my father’s embrace. “If he is the warrior I know him to be, he will not flinch. He would welcome the chance to return home and resume the job he was charged with.”

  I was nearly out the door before Hades called after me.

  “Only ask if he has fully recovered from his loss of memory, Khara. And be painfully honest with him. You ask him to wager much in this. He must understand the inherent risk.”

  “I am nothing but honest with my family,” I reminded him.

  “Yes . . .” he uttered under his breath as I entered the corridor. “I fear that will be both your and his undoing.”

  His words halted me, if only for a moment.

  He knew that I would present the facts as I knew them to Drew, but he also knew from what I had told him that my brother would accept, regardless of the risk. If our efforts failed and Drew was lost to the Oudeis, that would be his undoing. But what would be mine? That I would not forgive myself? That Drew would not forgive me, not that I could easily go to him to obtain his forgiveness? The Fields of Oudeis were not meant for outsiders aside from my father. Drew would be lost to its barren torment for eternity. And I would be left with that knowledge weighing on my conscience.

  That was the undoing Hades feared I would face.

  In that moment, I saw the situation for what it really was. I was not nobly trying to free my brother as I had thought. I was trying to do for him what I seemed unable to do for Oz, and it was clouding my judgment. Further, by bringing the decision to Drew, I felt absolved of whatever outcome might befall him, thinking that I will have allowed him to choose his own destiny. But, in truth, presenting him with the choice was a mere formality, an illusion of volition, for I knew what he would decide, just as I had told Hades. And my foreknowledge of that would condemn me in my mind should Hades fail to send Drew back.

  Weighty were the thoughts in my mind.

  Crushing was the vise on my heart.

  Leaden were my feet as I walked toward the Elysian Fields, my resolve strengthening with every step.

  I was prepared to risk it all—wager everything for a chance to free Drew. But by tempting him with the opportunity to reclaim his former life, I knew I could potentially lose him forever to an eternity of suffering.

  Heavy was the crown of judgment I wore.

  Heavy was the crown, indeed.

  11

  The banks of the River Styx had long been my sanctuary. The calm water lapping at the shore was meditative. For the first time since I had returned home, I found myself taking the time to clear my cluttered mind. So much had happened since my return that I could not process it all. I needed time to think.

  And I needed to free Drew.

  The breadth of the river was considerable. I sat and looked onto its deceptively serene surface, staring off into the red glow of a fiery horizon that burned eternally. It was by far the most placid scene to be found in the Underworld. Or at least it was until Oz came to stand before me, his wings blacking out the orange light that had surrounded me.

  “The calm amid the chaos,” he muttered curiously, as though he had just realized something that should have been obvious to him.

  “It is,” I agreed, trying to look past his legs and back to the river behind him.

  “As are you,” he countered. I stretched my neck skyward to find him looking down at me, his expression unreadable. It was too shadowed by his own darkness to be discerned. “This place provides the perfect metaphor for you, Khara: the calm amid the storm.”

  “I fail to see how I personify that.”

  “One rarely sees oneself clearly.”

  “Then I am pleased to have you to succeed at that task on my behalf,” I replied sardonically.

  “Are you not drawn to this place?” he asked, unable to hide his irritation at my mocking.

  “I am.”

  “Interesting, is it not?”

  “It is quiet here. Normally.”

  “Touché, new girl.”

  “Why have you come here?” I asked, hoping to fin
d the reason for his presence so I could then find a way to make him leave. My previous desire to warn him about my father’s intentions seemed to pale suddenly in comparison to my brother’s situation. Oz was more than confident in his ability to survive. Maybe it was time for me to let him test it.

  Or maybe that was my grief speaking on behalf of my rational mind.

  “I wish to be alone,” I said flatly.

  “Perhaps I came for the same reason you did.”

  I scoffed at his reply.

  “If you had wished to be alone, then you should not have come to the Underworld.”

  “If I had not come, you would not be here.”

  “I do not require your persistent chaperoning. You may leave at any time—escape the growing chaos.”

  “I may do whatever the fuck I want, new girl,” he snarled in response. “A fact I am well aware of.”

  “I require no reminder of that. I, too, am well aware of your freedom, which you so flagrantly flaunt.”

  “So enlightened,” he mocked, sitting down beside me.

  “Tell me why you are really here. I do not believe your presence does not involve me in some way.”

  “My, my, my, aren’t we vain?” he said sardonically, picking up a stone that lay by my foot and throwing it into the water. The river sizzled and spat at the disruption. It may have appeared placid, but it was anything but. The Styx and Oz had much in common. “But you are correct. I came for you.”

  “Running another errand for my father?” I inquired condescendingly.

  “I run errands for no one.”

  “Yes, yes,” I sighed, dismissing his response with a wave of my hand. “You do as you please; that needs no further reiteration.”

  “Good. See that it doesn’t. My patience has limits, Khara. Even with you.” He stared at me long and hard, his nearly black eyes boring through mine as if to sear that fact into my mind. He would not be made a mockery of; that much was clear to me. When he finally looked away from me, he took another pebble and threw it into the water, breaking our silence. “I came here because I wanted to talk to you. Alone. It proves difficult to create such an encounter in this place.”