Then the canopy grew shorter, the glowing hot rocks closer to his head until he was ducking then bent over all the way and finally forced to crawl on his hands and knees. The black steaming soil engulfed his palms and toes as it smoldered the denim over his knees. Sweat stung his eyes as it dripped down his forehead and matted his hair to his body. He didn’t know how long or how far he crawled breathing in ash and soot along with air so sultry it threatened to char his lungs until he saw the opening ahead of him.
The slit to get to it was so tiny, so small, he feared he would never get through it. His shoulders were too wide and the weapons on his back made him too high. Squeezed into the space tighter than a drum he had no choice but to stop and consider his situation. Through the opening, he saw the gap widen enough to an area where he could stand again and his knees demanded he reach it. With much effort, Raven struggled to remove the spear and sword from their harnesses. Hhe pushed back a little to give himself space to shove the weapons through the crevice along with his water and food supply. Then he tried to get through but it was no use, his shoulders wouldn’t pass and the vest had no give. Flopping over on his back Raven undid the fasteners, keeping the vest closed and his torso safe from the burning ground, he wiggled out of the vest and fought back the cry of pain as the blazing hot ash and soot welcomed his skin with hot hands. Grunting and gasping for breath, he flopped over onto his flat stomach to push the vest through the crack. Reaching in as far he could he pushed his items away from the crack to give himself more room then turned on his side to begin squeezing through the confined space.
Molten rock met tender flesh; Raven screamed in agony as he struggled to pass through the tiny opening. There was no purchase; when he tried to push with his bare feet he found no leverage in the soft hot sand. With no choice, he raised a leg to plant the sole of a bare foot onto a hot rock and push. His body moved a short distance and he knew he could make it but he needed more purchase. To get it he’d have to grab the rock with his bare hands. It was better than cooking alive.
Gathering his strength and his courage, Raven grabbed both sides of the steaming rock, put his feet on the sides of the cave behind him and gave a great shove as he pulled with all his might. The unforgiving rock encompassing his torso bit into him, charred him, and seared his perfect flesh branding him for the rest of his life in long tendrils and thick welts.
“Mother fucker!” Raven bellowed, knowing it was too late to go back the other way. Another deep breath drew ash into his lungs, making him cough and choke. He steeled himself again, gave another gigantic push with feet so burned the flesh stuck to the rocks and hands so sore he could hardly feel them anymore. He pushed, shoved, and wriggled until he was certain he was hopelessly stuck, wedged between the scorching rocks and blistering sand. “Come on, you bitch! I’m not gonna die down here like this!”
The sharp rock sliced through his lower back and stomach until it was touching his waist and the minor safety of the denim below. Raven kept going, his mind went blank, and he went on pure instinct until he emerged from the small opening into the larger one panting like a dog on a hot summer’s day. He looked down at his body now marred for the rest of his days and felt angry. Felt pain, a sensation he was unaccustomed to and didn’t much care for. Fighting the urge to curl up in a little ball and lick his blistering and bleeding wounds, Raven hauled himself to his wounded feet, gathered up his weapons and supplies then made his way forward as quickly as he could to the opening waiting for him.
Feeling exhausted but lucky to have made it out with most of his skin intact, Raven emerged into another part of the cavern. The path to his left led into darkness and who-knew-what. To the right, he saw the banks of the mighty River Phlegethon bubbling and boiling with running blood and fire just a few hundred yards away. The stench of sulfur was unbearable. Before he could fully stand erect, Raven doubled over and vomited onto the hot ground. A great puff of puke-smell steam rose up to hit him in the face, making him heave once more. All of the precious jerky, so far undigested, spewed out of his mouth in great chunks, and waves of bile. His head spun and darkness descended until he thought he’d pass out.
VI
Then, a cool hand landed itself on his back and another roamed through his matted dripping hair. “It’s almost over, you’ll be all right.”
The voice brought goose bumps to his blistering skin as it made his mouth drop open. With some effort, Raven’s eyes scanned behind him to behold a blue glow. They slowly made their way upward over slippered feet hovering above the burning ash, the hem of a fine robe flowing in a nonexistent wind, the blessedly cool alabaster hands encased in their halo of icy blue on his shoulder to the nearly angelic face of the woman comforting him. “Mom?” Swiping the back of his hand over his chin to clear away the last of the vomit he stood up and turned around only to see straight through her. “You’re not dead, how can you be here? Are you here? Is this a delusion? A trick?”
Sadly, Alena raised a hand letting the sleeve of her robe fall back to expose the wrist cuff clamped upon her. From it, a gold chain ran in two directions. The closest, a fine strand of gold, ran to a ring on her index finger depicting a large black spider within its web. On the other end the fine gold turned to heavy chain running from the bottom of the cuff to the wall behind her. “I am but a slave, a peasant among Gods and when I fell down the stairs and into my deep sleep, one of them stole part of my soul.” Alena let out a low mournful sigh, “he keeps me here between the worlds. I can’t wake and I can’t die. Help me.” She reached out to touch his face and give him a sorrowful smile. “Please, you’re the only one who can.”
It seemed to Raven that if he wanted to pass Hades’ Trial and be on his way to becoming an Olympian, he had to rescue his Mother. That was a nice little twist on Hades’ part and Raven reminded himself to thank his Uncle when he got back. Still, there was an added bonus, one Hades might not have expected. When Raven brought this stolen part of his Mother back to Olympus and caused her to wake, Ares would be so grateful he’d do anything to repay the favor. Maybe he might even possibly ignore the fact that Raven had been the cause of it all and be proud. “I’ll get you out of here.” He took in the shackle on her wrist and the gleaming gold chain still limp with slack. Raven began backing up. “Come on walk to me a little more,” he drew the sword from its sheath, “stretch it out, I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You don’t?” she asked as she floated at a slow pace following him forward until the chain pulled her arm back behind her head and there was no give left in it.
Raven ignored the question. “Stay still, don’t move.” He stood behind her, raised the sword, and brought it down with great force causing a loud whoop as it sliced through the air. When it hit the chain, the razor sharp metal merely nicked the gold before bouncing off the metal, nearly flying out of Raven’s weary grasp. He swung again with the same result. Before him, she gave him a glance over her shoulder, one that silently re-asked her question. He looked down at the chain and gave out a long growl as the answer to the riddle presented itself. Through a tight jaw and gritted teeth he answered, “I didn’t want to hurt you. I just wanted you to go away.” The words out of his mouth he felt better and infinitely worse at the same time as he brought the sword high over his head, the battling emotions welling within him sprinted upward with his arms, fled into the metal between his palms. When it slammed the blade down upon the heavy gold links shattered to dust. “Why didn’t you do it? Why didn’t you just go?”
Lowering her arm and turning around she challenged him, “Why didn’t you? Why didn’t you just kill me? You could have blamed it on the fall.”
Again, Raven didn’t know, he never did. How many nights had he sat alone in his room asking himself that very same question; Why didn’t I just kill her? “You’re my Mother.”
“But killing Trinity was so easy for you and she was your Sister; why should I be different?”
“Trinity just fell off the Mountain. It was her dumb luck.”
The fiery cavern rocked below his feet as bits of hot ash fell from above.
She looked up and then pointed around and shook her head as if to tell him the walls had ears and knew a lie when they heard it. “Like I fell down the stairs?” she returned with cool certainty and a sly smile. “The moment I heard the news of her death, I knew you were responsible. I wanted to…to thank you,” she confessed, “to praise you and tell you how proud I was of you.”
Raven stumbled backward as though she’d struck him. “I beg your pardon?”
She sighed and shook her head as she held her arms out to him,. “You must know that Trinity was always a walking talking, ever constant reminder of your Father’s infidelity. How he hurt me. Betrayed me. I hated her.”
“No, no way, you loved Trinity, I know you did.” Raven’s eyes narrowed on the ghostly apparition before him. “I know it.”
“She was always a thorn in my side.” She kept approaching as he kept retreating away from the river and his goal toward the blackness of the other side of the cavern. “Tell me how you did it. Tell me of your genius and your cunning. I know you want to brag, you’re just dying to tell someone. The need is eating away inside you burning to get out. So tell me, tell me how you killed Trinity.”
Passing the small crevice from which he’d emerged, Raven stopped as he felt the spindly fingers of the darkness behind him reaching out to snatch him. There was only way to go and that was forward but she was blocking his path. Raven had no choice but to stand his ground. “Shut up! I don’t know how Trinity fell.”
His protest didn’t please the cavern and it rocked again only this time it was no small tremble, no little hiccup—it was a full-blown earthquake. Chunks of rock and hot ash rained down from above as the rumbling ground threatened to toss him off his feet.
“Nothing but the truth will suffice here, my beloved Son, so tell me, tell me how you killed your Sister.”
Risking the cavern coming down on them, Raven stood firm. “I didn’t kill her.” He held his breath and his strength, waiting for the rumble but it didn’t come. Across from him, the apparition of his mother looked puzzled for a moment. It was true, he didn’t kill Trinity, Spirit Walker killed Trinity by scaring her into the fall.
“Maybe not, but you’re the reason she’s dead.” She floated toward him with her arms open to embrace him even though her stormy eyes filled with sadness as her hands settled on his shoulders. “My beloved son, the one I sacrificed and suffered for so much. All those months I spent in bed heavy with you. All those days I spent trying to shield you from the things in my mind and you fought me until my mind threatened to flee, to leave me behind, an empty shell. I loved you anyway. The night you were born, you tried to claw your way out of me, I almost died just bringing you into this world. I loved you anyway. I held you, I nursed you, I taught you, I guided you, I loved you above all others and what gratitude did you show me? You tricked me into falling down the stairs. You feel no guilt, no sorrow, or shame as I lie in limbo day after day caught between the worlds not alive and not dead.”
Raven gritted his teeth and held his tongue a moment, knowing if he’d tried to argue with that one he’d probably bring the entire cavern down on his head.
“Now, what I fought so hard to prevent has come to its fruition and you are damned,” she looked down at his bleeding blistered torso, “you are forever scarred, marked, so all will know what you are; a murderer. A cold-blooded killer destined to become the God of the Damned. Just admit, there’s nothing left to do. Tell me how you killed Trinity.”
“Get away from me,” he hissed as he shoved her cold hands away from his body.
“You killed your Sister, you tried to kill me, you plot to kill your Brother. What about Rose? Ares? Zeus? How many will it take to satisfy your lust for power? To prove to yourself that you are an Olympian? How many will suffer? How many must die?” Her upper lip curled as she took him in with an air of dark knowing. “The whole world, perhaps? Will it be enough for you when it is destroyed? Brought to its knees and nothing but Chaos remains among the ruins of mankind?”
“Shut up.”
“I know what you plan, I know what you plot in secret in those trips you take in the dead of night to the Mortal World.”
“No, you don’t.” Raven understood that his mother, even deep in her sleep, knew what was going on around her. She must hear the voices talking in the room where she lay but those voices never spoke of the heated unrest bubbling away in the Mortal World.
“So, it’s true, you do plan to level the Mortal World.”
“I didn’t say that,” he smirked. “Show yourself, I know who you are. Tisiphone, Queen of the Furies, punisher of the wicked, of those who have committed the ultimate sin and trespass—killing one’s parent or sibling. You’ll get no confessions out of me, you wretched bitch. I know who you are. You’re not my Mother.”
The transparent imagine of Alena faded away replaced by a gaping black hole in the shape of a woman with fire pits where her eyes should be and a river of blood forever running across her lips. Little bits of pink spittle flew into the air when she spoke. “Greetings little Lord Raven. I see you are just as cunning and sly as your Parents.”
“My Mother is neither sly nor cunning.”
“She is a Fae, she is a mistress of the arts of deception,” Tisiphone countered.
“Whatever,” Raven scoffed, “she’s still breathing, sleeping away on Olympus, so you can’t get too pissed at me.”
“And Trinity?”
“Fell off the mountain,” he spat.
“That much is true,” Tisiphone crooned and then turned her back on him and began floating away toward the flowing river. She got a few yards before she turned around. “Well, what are you waiting for? Do you want to finish this or not?”
“Lead the way, ladies first and all.”
Tisiphone let out a laugh so shrill that it alone caused bits of debris to fall from the ceiling of the cavern. “You’re no gentleman and I am no lady.” Without another word, she floated off so quickly, Raven had to run to keep up with her.
At the end of the cavern, they came to the river so hot Raven thought the flesh would melt off his bones. The stench so thick with decay and old blood made him want to retch again. Just as the vomit rose to the back of his throat and he doubled over he heard cries coming from overhead. The urgency in them pushed the puke away as he looked up to see hundreds of bamboo cages suspended over the flaming river.
In each dangling cage was a Trinity.
“You’re at the halfway point of your Trial, little Lord Raven,” Tisiphone pointed up at the screaming girls about to be plunged into the boiling river at any moment. “Pick the Shade that is your Sister, free her, bring her back to the Fields and Hades’ will consider you an Olympian.”
“How do I know which one is her?” They all looked exactly like Trinity. They all screamed. They all held their arms out to him through their cages and called out his name as they begged him to help them.
“That’s up to do you decide,” she crooned. “As soon as you free one, the others will plunge into the river so you better choose the right one.” She stopped as though she were considering something and then continued with caution in her dark voice. “I have long owed a great debt to someone, future God of the Damned. Luckily for you, you are my chance to repay it. So I will make my own side deal with you, agree?”
That was very interesting but, “Before I know the terms? Are you nuts?”
“Fine, finish Hades’ Trial and, when you return to Olympus, wake your Mother. Set both of these wrongs to right and I will consider your soul Redeemed.” She stopped and turned to look at him with nearly nonexistent flaming eyes. “Make no mistake your semantics will do you no good down here. You killed your Sister. You tried to kill your Mother. In the Mortal World you will go down as the Greatest Mass Murderer in History. You will hang in one of those cages a very long time before you rule Dis.”
“Mass murderer? I think the sul
fur down here has confused your black head,” he challenged but she remained steadfast as she stared at him from behind an absent gaze. Her silence made his blood run cold even in the face of the fiery river. “Even if any of that was true, how do you expect me to wake up my Mother?” Raven wasn’t sure he’d do it if she told him but he was curious to see what she had to say.
“Not you alone, Little God of the Damned. You and your Father must reclaim her before her time runs out.”
Raven was thoroughly perplexed. “From who? Who has her?” The idea that someone, an Olympian, had been responsible for his Mother’s long sleep never occurred to him and he doubted it ever occurred to Ares.
“Shar Draíocht’s great-granddaughter is being held prisoner Between the Worlds. Surely you felt her presence when you arrived on the outskirts of the Underworld.”
Raven didn’t know who Shar Draíocht was but he remembered feeling something strange, haunting, calling to him from that spooky palace in the mist with its endless field of poppies and one lone, nearly barren, white tree. “Morpheus has got her?” Raven thought of Jilios, the wonderful gift the King of Dreams gave him for his Coming of Age. If Morpheus had his Mother then Ares was right about Jilios, she was a spy and Raven let her hot body waltz right through the Fortress’ front door.
“She knows she is trapped in an illusion and now Morpheus plots to kill Magdalena so he can keep her for his own. This must not be allowed to happen. You must wake your Mother if you have any hope of redeeming your soul from the destruction, the countless deaths, you’ve wrought upon the Mortal World.”
OF WAR Anthology Novels 1-3 Page 120