“Maybe she wanted a change of scenery. Wouldn’t you be bored spending eternity in the same old place, seeing the same people? Especially when there are so many other places you could visit?” I suggested.
Running a hand through his glorious hair, he said, “That makes sense. But there are too many worlds; it would take us forever to search them all. Not that we don’t have eternity.”
“But Meg and Pollux don’t.”
“I do have something that will speed things up.” Putting two fingers in his mouth, Caz gave a piercing whistle. Almost immediately, the most beautiful stallion I ever could imagine came galloping toward us, creating a cloud of dust. He snorted, shaking his head. Sleek yet heavily muscled, he was magnificent. His white coat practically glowed in the light.
“Hop on.” Before I could protest, Caz jumped onto the horse’s back and reached down a hand.
I winced. City girl here! “I’ve never been on a horse.”
His beguiling smile and the chance to cuddle up intimately close with him was almost all the encouragement I needed. A helmet and seat belt would have been nice, though.
“Don’t worry, I’m an expert.” He pulled me up with a graceful ease. “Where to?”
Time to play Sherlock Holmes. “What interested her, besides Orpheus?”
Caz frowned. “His music and his poetry, but mostly his music. Whenever he created something new, he played it for her first.”
“So we have to figure out where she’d go to enjoy music. Personally speaking, I wouldn’t want to hear the same thing year after year. Heck, I get tired of it after a few weeks. So, what would she like and where would she go?”
Turning his head sideways, Caz said, “I’ve been here long enough to have heard it all—Italian opera, experimental grunge, New Orleans jazz. She could be in a thousand places.”
I smiled broadly and wrapped my arms around his hard sculpted middle. I bet if he lay down, I could bounce a quarter off it. “I know where we should try,” I purred in his ears.
He leaned back, his body against mine. A delicious warmth spread through me at the contact. I was glad he couldn’t see my face because it had to be flaming red at that moment.
“Where?” he said, his voice huskier than usual. The closeness was having an effect on him as well.
“Someplace where she could get lost, and where musicians aspire to go. Eurydice’s probably in a club, something small, intimate, with not too many people. Let’s start out in New York. I know my way around the music venues, thanks to hanging out with Meg. If she’s not there, then we’ll check Los Angeles, London, and go from there. Hades has to have his own versions here. Do you know what Eurydice looks like?”
Caz pursed his lips. “There aren’t too many depictions of her. She and Orpheus are the only two people who almost got out. That kind of information is valuable.”
“And dangerous,” I agreed.
Caz nodded, and nudged the horse into a trot to a deserted and dirty little alley. He pointed to a little plaque on a crumbling wall. Three figures stood out in carved relief, and they were painted to look lifelike. I recognized one of them immediately from his crazy helmet.
“Hermes!”
“Yep. That’s him on the left. The one with the lyre on the right is Orpheus, and the girl in the middle is Eurydice.”
I stared at the carving. Eurydice had long dark hair, large doe-like eyes, and a button nose. Like all the other gods and mythical people I’d met, she was gorgeous. No wonder Orpheus was smitten.
“I’ve seen enough,” I said. “Let’s go.”
We galloped into downtown New York, Tartarus style. No one blinked at the incongruity of it. It was almost like the real place, but I suspect that in the real place, a girl and a hunky guy dressed in ancient Greek attire, atop a horse of Herculean proportions, would be remarked upon. We dismounted, and Caz whispered into the horse’s ear. It took off, back the way we had come.
Bustling city streets, traffic. Now I was in familiar territory. I led Caz through the city maze. We searched the smaller clubs one by one; the Black Door, the Psychedelic Garden, the Golden Goose, and others, asking people if they knew Eurydice. We came up empty, but I wasn’t about to give up.
The inside of the Liar Lyre club was dark and loud and smoky. I scanned the faces I could see, but no one resembled the girl on the plaque. Near the stage, a guy with long hair and sandals sat on one of the tables, swaying in time to the music. Under the low lights, a wraithlike man in dirty ripped jeans clutched a microphone close to his mouth, singing with a raspy voice. His messy blond hair shook as he moved his head.
“Yeah! Kurt! Wooooooo!” Rocker Dude on the table clapped his hands over his head when the song was over. I made my move.
“Excuse me,” I said, tapping him on the shoulder and flashing a winning smile. “I just got here. I’m looking for my friend—maybe you know her? Eurydice?”
“Yeah,” he said, still swaying although no music was playing. He peered at me through the smoke and jerked a thumb toward the backstage area. “She’s hanging with the band.”
Score! Let’s hear it for the blonde. I snagged an obviously untouched burger off the table and took a huge bite. I’d forgotten to eat and it wasn’t the first time. My stomach was protesting. I really needed some type of routine or I was going to starve to death and then I would be stuck here.
The burger polished off, I filched a Coke from a waitress to wash it down. No one exchanged money for anything as far as I’d seen, so technically it wasn’t stealing. I turned to go, but Rocker Dude grabbed my arm.
“Wait, pretty lady! You don’t want to miss the next act! Hendrix is up!”
Nodding and smiling, I pulled away without difficulty and grabbed Caz’s hand. We were about to cash in. Then the watch started chiming.
Meg! Now that we knew where Eurydice was, the rest should be easy. I could tell Meg what was going on and that we’d be out of here soon. Once informed, she could work with Pollux to figure out what to do as soon as Caz and I were on the other side. I turned to go.
“You can’t leave now,” said Caz, his voice urgent and his grip strong on my arm.
“We know where Eurydice is. I have to talk to Meg,” I said.
“She could be gone by the time you get back and then we’d have to search for her all over again. Unless … ” He paused. “Unless you want me to try and get the information. But if she recognizes me, she may disappear. I don’t know how she’ll react.”
I was torn. Could I miss my talk with Meg? After what I said to Hermes, what would she think? I bowed my head in frustration.
Caz squeezed my hand. “We have to talk to Eurydice now. The ball will be our best—and maybe only—chance to use it.”
His earnest appeal and his logic convinced me. I was going to have to believe that this would work out and that Meg wouldn’t abandon me.
We worked our way around back and there she was, a girl around my age, dressed all in black but with an ancient gold armband. I tried hard not to stare at Elvis and Jim Morrison chatting it up. Meg would just die if she saw this.
Remembering that the tragic heroine was trying to keep a low profile, I inched my way over.
“Eurydice?”
She started, probably not used to being recognized, and eyed me warily.
“Sorry. Don’t know who you’re talking about.”
It was her, and I didn’t need Rocker Dude to confirm it. She looked exactly like the girl on the plaque.
“A guy in the audience told us you were here,” I pressed.
She closed her eyes and let out a long sigh. “I can’t believe he let it spill again—” She stopped and gasped as Caz stepped up.
“Castor!” She jumped up off the speaker. Several heads turned our way and some people began easing away from us.
; He nodded at her.
Her eyes were huge. “Why are you here?”
He gave her the duh look. “You know him—he’s using Pollux and me in another power play. We need your help.”
She blinked several times, like an owl. “Excuse me?”
“We. Need. To. Leave. Here.” I leaned closer, to whisper, “Escape Tartarus.”
Suddenly she laughed. “Oh, funny. Yeah, okay.”
Hands on hips, I glared at her. “Do I look like I’m joking?” I could take her. Hiking on the beaches and through ancient worlds and playing with Cerberus—oh damn, I forgot to clean up his latest mess and Hades is going to be livid again—had gotten me in good shape. She was toast. “I need to get out of here so we can save Caz and his twin. And me, too. So how do we get out?”
She looked from me to Caz and back, numerous times.
“Like I said, I don’t know who or what you’re talking about,” she said stubbornly.
Caz closed his eyes in defeat.
“Oh no.” I grabbed her by the arm and spun her into a dark corner. “Look, we know you’re Eurydice, and you almost made it out. All we want is to know where the portal, opening, stairway, whatever is so we can get out. It’s life or death.”
“I died once and I don’t want to repeat the experience. That’s not supposed to happen to dryads, especially not the way it happened to me. Stupid snake,” she said coldly. “Don’t be so quick to gamble your life, mortal. Both of us are permanently expendable if that information gets out. Goodbye.”
She tried to leave again, but all my working out redeemed itself right then. She couldn’t budge, and I wouldn’t let her leave. “Look, I don’t know what you’ve heard, but obviously I’m still here, so the way out doesn’t exist anymore,” she said desperately.
“We can do this two ways,” I whispered. “If I’m stuck down here forever, I have nothing to lose by broadcasting where you are and making it so that everyone recognizes you. Buh-bye private life. And since Hades pretty much lets me have whatever I want … let’s just say, before you can run, I can summon him here. I could make up a pretty little story about you telling me about a way out.” Of course, I didn’t know if Hades would come at my bidding, but Eurydice didn’t know I was nothing more than a glorified monkey in a cage, much as it pained me to make that comparison. “Or,” I added, “you can tell Caz and me how to get out of Tartarus. We disappear, and I swear on my life that your identity and whereabouts stay a secret.”
I could almost hear the gears in her mind, processing which risk was greater. After a furtive glance, she said, “If I tell you, you can’t tell anyone, especially … ”
“Gotcha. Not planning on hanging around to blab about it. Go on,” I urged.
In a voice barely loud enough to be called a whisper, she said, “And I want something.” She reached over and her hands fisted on the front of Caz’s toga. “I know Orpheus is in the Pit. Hades promised me we’d be reunited, but it’s been three thousand years and that hasn’t happened yet. I want him freed, and I want Zeus to know what I risked for you and Pollux.”
“And me,” I added gratefully.
She gave me a disgusted look. “Who cares about you?”
Scratch another name from my fan club. I was beginning to feel that Hades and Caz were the only members. And Cerberus, if I continued to play with him.
Caz nodded. “You have my word I will petition my father for Orpheus to be freed.”
“And I want protection from Hades’ retaliation.”
That list of demands was getting longer.
“And I’m going with you.”
“Oh no,” I interjected. “This party is big enough.”
“I’m going or no one is.” She stood there, feet firmly planted, arms crossed, with a challenging glare.
“Okay,” Caz agreed. Before I could mutiny, he pecked my lips with a kiss, squelching my rebellion. “We need her.”
“Fine,” I grumped. So much for being as unobtrusive as possible. Who’d want to go next? All the Titans?
“My uncle is having a—”
“W’Underworld Ball,” Eurydice finished for him. “I’ve heard. Everyone wants to go, check out the new plaything.” She gave me an unflattering look.
“Anyone who could be a hindrance will be there,” said Caz. “It’ll be a perfect time.”
Eurydice nodded, seemingly mollified. “We have to go through the Pit,” she said. “There’s a tunnel there that leads up to the mortal world.”
“I was afraid of that,” said Caz. He shook his head and looked at me. “We can’t. You do know who’s down in the Pit, don’t you?” He ran a hand through his hair, making it messier and cuter.
Focus!
“Yes, I know. The Titans. But do we have a choice? We can either sit here forever, moaning, or we can take our chance. Hades can’t kill us. Or,” I amended, “he can’t kill you. I’m willing to risk it. Are you game?”
Putting his arm around my shoulder and giving me a good squeeze, he gave a curt nod. “Let’s do it.”
Eurydice leaned in close. “We’ll slip away once the W’Underworld Ball is in full swing. Then … ” She smiled slowly and scarily. “We go to the dark side.”
Meg
Eureka, I Guess
“One hundred jumping jacks! Let’s go, people!”
Mr. Rossi blew his whistle. Along with the rest of the class, I dutifully commenced the first round of calisthenics. I hated gym, but here I was, sweating, eating up my free period for the third day in a row to hammer out the dent in my GPA from missing gym class.
“Five, six, seven, eight, nine, fifty,” I counted under my breath. I felt myself getting hotter and hotter. Because of Hades’ little “motivation,” I had no choice but to wear the bulky winter version of our gym uniform; the summer shorts pinched my scales. I was boiling, but I didn’t dare complain. I bobbed up and down with the rest of the class. “Seven, eight, nine, sixty. One, two, three … ”
As soon as we reached one hundred, Rossi barked, “Drop down! Fifty sit-ups!”
The man was a sadist. He paced up and down the rows making sure no one cheated.
“Laps!” he yelled, and I fell in line doing a slow jog—the minimal pace he allowed.
This is what happens when your Phys Ed teacher is ex-military, I thought as I chugged along. I’d actually liked Rossi when I first met him; he was my Social Studies teacher junior year. Back then he reminded me of an old hobbit with his twinkling eyes and jolly demeanor. I thought his obsession with the Battle of Normandy was just one of those old-man things. Then I got him for Phys Ed, and woe betide the little soldier who forgot her gym clothes. The only way to get back into his good graces was to attend one of his boot camp make-up sessions—or in my case, three. After my disastrous miss with Shar at the window, I was desperate for something to go right. Wednesday, Thursday, and now today I showed up for gym makeup. Rossi almost looked impressed. I really needed a gold star, and at this point I didn’t care where it came from, as long as it wasn’t Hades.
“That’s the way!” Rossi yelled, surveying the stream of students snaking around the gym. He looked at his watch; we’d be at this for a good fifteen minutes at least.
“How are you gonna feel the burn going that slow?” said an unfamiliar voice right next to me. I turned my head to see. It was Hermes—and no one seemed to notice him.
“Uh.” I gasped for breath, half from shock, half from the exercise. Hermes scowled disapprovingly and tsked, then took a long, admiring look down at his own muscular calves. He slowed his pace, pulled his helmet off, and wiped his brow. Without stopping, he placed the helmet along the wall and waved a hand. It vanished, then he double-timed it to catch up with me.
“There’s nothing as satisfying as a good, strenuous workout!” he said, skipping alongside me as I pa
nted and dripped.
“I could think of a few things,” I puffed. “Let’s start with a mocha latte and chocolate cake.”
Hermes frowned. “Carbs, fat, and sugar. Poison.”
“Caffeine, endorphins, sweet. Yum,” I retorted. I loved my carbs, fat, and sugar; the way things were going, it was all I had to look forward to.
But Hermes was unimpressed. He ignored me, jogging slightly faster as if to challenge me to keep up. The moment of silence made me realize the only reason why he’d be here.
“You gave Shar my message?”
“I did.” He looked at me, his eyes gleaming wickedly. “And let me tell you, she was not happy.”
“What happened?” I asked, alarmed. “I mean, I know I missed our meeting, but you told her I was trying, right? You told her why I didn’t get to see her?”
“I told her what you told me to say,” he replied, smoothly and with no sign whatsoever of being out of breath. I, on the other hand, felt the onset of hyperventilation. I shot a glance down at his feet. The little wings on his shoes were fluttering madly. Cheater!
“But, you told her that you guys—you and Persephone—made me miss her, didn’t you?” I pressed. Desperately.
“Huh?” He looked up from checking his vitals on a golden watch-pedometer that matched his too-tight Speedo running shorts and form-fitting tank. He wasn’t listening to me, and he didn’t care.
“Hermes, please!” I begged, shouting louder than I’d intended. The two girls in front of me turned and looked at me with foreheads wrinkled in aversion.
“I told her what you said to say,” he huffed. “Except about running into Persephone. I’m not allowed to disclose anything about gods to mortals. But I did give her the rest.”
Panicked, I tried to remember exactly what I’d said to Hermes, but the days since the concert were a blur of anxiety and Paulina.
“Did she … have a message for me?” I asked with dread. If Hermes didn’t tell Shar that he and Persephone had delayed me, at least he’d told her I’d been trying—but was that enough?
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