by James Welsh
Book 17
Hades couldn’t see it, but he knew that Mount Olympus was to his north. He gathered a few, deep breaths and began jogging along the beach. His jog soon quickened into a run, and that run soon became long leaps, clearing at least a mile or two with every stride. They were jumps that even the gods would have considered impossible. But the shades that flapped in the wind behind Hades didn’t pull the god back – if anything, they pushed him fiercely. And Hades’ gasps came not from exhaustion but instead exhilaration – he was getting closer to his destiny by the jump. Just a few more leaps, and he would have Mount Olympus in his grasp.
And indeed, after several jumps, Olympus soon zoomed into view. Clouds hanging around the mountain shrank away, almost as if they were frightened by the approach of Hades. Hades was running even faster now, jumping even longer. The cape of shades behind him flapped madly in the wind.
Finally, he reached Mount Olympus, after centuries of exile in the world below. He latched his hands into the crevices of the mountain, remembering the forgotten touch of the stone. For the first time since he began his run, Hades halted. He leaned in close to the mountain and breathed in the stone – he couldn’t remember the last time that he breathed in something so wonderful. It vaguely reminded him of meat being cooked over a hickory fire, the juicy smoke filling him more than meat ever could. He had been denied that simple pleasure for too long – he had been denied too much for too long.
He looked up the mountain to where it disappeared in the sky. He couldn’t see the summit from where he stood, but he would see it soon enough. He roared, “I’m coming for you all! Be ready!”
And, with that said, Hades began his climb, the cape billowing beneath him. It did not take long before he could see the mountaintop. It was just a few minutes into the climb, and already the air began to thin. He took quick glances downwards as he climbed – the world far below him looked tiny but sprawled, like a map unrolled. He wasn’t used to seeing the world from that angle, but it was something that he could certainly get used to. And above him, he could see the palace walls, looming over the edge of summit. The moment he touched that summit, things would be different. Hades knew everything would change, because he had seen it happen once before: when the Olympians overthrew their Titan parents centuries before.
But this day would be different. Before, he was forced to take the Kingdom of the Dead, all while the other gods got drunk on life. Hades smiled as he thought of how long the gods would last in the Underworld before they went insane. He would have his answer soon enough.
As Hades clambered up the mountainside, his billowing cloak had grown immensely. When he had left the Underworld, the cape of shades reached his feet – now, though, the cape had grown miles long. Any mortal who survived the massacre below would have looked up in shock, as the mountain became wrapped in a dark shroud, like a funeral. As more shades poured out of the Underworld, as more people were terrified and slaughtered by the shades, his power grew. Hades did not even feel the climb anymore – if anything, he was almost floating, pushed up by the millions of shades that he wore. The shades pushed him up because they too wanted to see what the palace atop Mount Olympus looked like. They wanted to see the dream that the gods lived, while they were given the nightmare of the Underworld.
So close, Hades chanted himself on, just a bit more climbing.
He could feel the cape of shades rippling behind him. At first, he thought that they were as excited as he was. But then, he felt a wind – it was a breeze at first, but it began to pick up a trot, then a gallop. In just a few moments, the wind was rushing against Hades, pinning him to the mountainside. He could barely hold onto the rocks, let alone climb the rest of the way up.
“What’s going on?” Hades growled to himself. He never remembered Olympus like this. Was the mountain fighting against him? The thought felt ridiculous, but he had seen a lot of ridiculous things recently.
And that was when he saw it – out of the corner of his eye, he saw an arrow plunging towards him. Still pressed against the rock by the wind, all Hades could do was watch as the dart came towards him. It was not until it got closer, though, that Hades realized it wasn’t a dart: it was a bird. And it wasn’t until the bird got closer that Hades realized it was an eagle. And it wasn’t until the eagle got even closer that Hades recognized it. He recognized it, even before it landed on the rocky wall beside him. As the eagle’s talons became legs, its wings into bristling arms, its beak into a bearded face, Hades looked on, shocked. Hades almost fell from the mountainside at that second, perhaps from surprise, but perhaps from defeat.
The wind that heralded the eagle’s entrance died down. And what was once eagle but now god roared, “Brother!”
“Zeus,” Hades hissed.
He didn’t understand how Zeus freed himself from the Underworld. Or rather, Hades didn’t have the time to understand. Already, Zeus was reaching into his billowing robes for his weapon. Hades could see sparks erupting from the robes, and he knew what was coming next. Still holding onto the rock with one hand, Hades reached for his sheath with the other. He pulled out his sword just as a lightning bolt came hurtling towards him. Hades awkwardly blocked the bolt with the blade of his sword – the lightning strike shot down the mountain. Far below them, Hades heard the sound of the lightning shattering the rock, then a short silence, then a dull roar. The lightning bolt had caused a rockslide.
Hades asked, “Are you trying to destroy Olympus before I can?”
“Only if I can bury you in the rubble!” Zeus roared as he pulled out another lightning bolt. Hades prepared himself for another strike, but Zeus didn’t throw this lightning bolt. Instead, he held it in his clenched fist like a sword. Zeus launched himself from the rock and landed on a ledge next to where Hades clung. Lightning bolt met sword blade as Zeus tried to impale Hades with electricity. But at the last moment, Hades pushed the lightning bolt into the rock with his sword. Zeus let go of the lightning bolt stuck in the rock and he punched Hades in the face. The King of the Dead almost lost his footing and, as he recovered, Zeus pulled the bolt from the stone.
As the brothers fought, Zeus demanded, “How could you do this to us? After everything we worked for?”
Furious, Hades snarled, “Who was it who stole the Titans’ weapons from them? I did! I am the reason why you are on that throne in the first place. And how do you repay me? You banish me to live with the dead! You take away my queen and my wife!”
“There has to be order!”
“No, Zeus, no there doesn’t.”
Zeus swung at Hades’ head with the lightning bolt, but Hades ducked and brought his sword up, the blade aiming straight for Zeus’ eyes. Zeus just barely knocked away the stab with the end of his bolt and brought the streak of lightning down on Hades’ head, hard. The electric shock couldn’t kill Hades, but it did paralyze the god momentarily. There was a dazed look in Hades’ eyes, and Zeus thought that the god would fall from the mountainside. The god quickly recovered, though, and he kicked Zeus in the leg. Zeus lost his footing and he slipped from the rock. Zeus gasped as he fell a short distance, his arms flailing. By luck, his hand caught onto a ledge and stopped his fall.
But now, Zeus was caught up in the miles-long cape of shades that Hades wore. The shades slipped around Zeus like sheets of cloth, and Zeus could feel himself growing old at their touch. Through the grime and dust, Zeus saw his hands turning gnarled and shriveled. He looked up and saw that Hades was already continuing his climb towards the summit. If Hades reached the summit before Zeus could stop him…
Zeus knew that he had to get out of the cape soon. The cape was so long now that it stretched down the entire mountain, its ends in a heap at the ground far below. If Zeus got too old and lost his strength, then he could fall the entire height of the mountain. He could survive the fall, but he would be too aged and weak by then to get back up and fight Hades. He had to get to th
e side somehow – that would be the quickest way to get out of the shadow of the shades…
The eagle! Zeus thought wildly. Why didn’t he think of it before? Already, he was turning into the bird, his grey hairs transforming into feathers. In a few moments, he shrunk into his eagle form, and he felt his youth return to him. But the shades were causing him to age once more. His hands were the last part of him to transform, and he used them to push himself from the rocky wall, hoping to clear the cloud of shades around him. The plan worked, as Zeus broke free from the shades and tasted fresh air again. The eagle tumbled towards the earth for a few moments before he found his wings and flew.
Zeus as an eagle soared up the mountain. Hades was closer than ever to the summit – the god was standing on a ledge just short of the mountaintop. Zeus flapped his wings tremendously and, at the final moment, began his transformation once more. Hades wasn’t expecting a bird’s beak burrowing into the back of his neck, nor the god’s hands reaching around his throat. Hades gurgled in surprise and reached for the fingers choking him. He easily pried the fingers away and turned swiftly, his hand now around Zeus’ own neck now. Zeus tried to rip himself from Hades’ grip, but the god was just too strong. Zeus felt his legs dangling useless under him – he knew that Hades was holding him over the side of the mountain. Zeus felt the urge to transform into his eagle form, but he knew better. As strong as Zeus was as a god, it wouldn’t take much for Hades to snap a bird’s neck. And while Zeus transformed from bird to god thousands of times, he never tried transforming from a dead bird before.
Hades scoffed. “You’re too weak now. How long have you been gone, Zeus? Just a few days, and already the world has forgotten about you. There was a time when you could light up the sky with your lightning. Now, you can’t even knock me down with a bolt. Face it – no one believes in you anymore. You’re a king without a kingdom. Now, you know how I’ve always felt. I was a king, and still I had to take orders from you. Don’t you understand my shame now?”
The fingers tightened around the neck and Zeus gasped, “Yes.”
Hades laughed bitterly. “You know what? I don’t think you do. You don’t understand now, but you will soon enough. When this mountain crumbles and the world is mine, I will throw you and your entire family –“
“They’re your family too.”
“Don’t interrupt me!” Hades screamed, shaking Zeus. “I will throw you and your family into the Underworld. But I’m willing to make a deal with you. While the rest of the family is tortured for eternity, I will let you sit on my old throne. There you will be King of the Dead, for as long as you’re willing to take orders from me. I will be your master now. You will hate me as much as I have come to hate you. Do we have a deal?”
Hades’ fingers clenched together so harshly that Zeus thought his brother was choking a yes out of him. Instead, Zeus gritted his teeth and said, “I’ve survived death once – I’ll survive it again!”
Zeus lashed out with another lightning bolt hidden in his robes. Hades screeched as the lightning bolt stung his elbow, numbing the arm. Hades’ grip suddenly slackened, and Zeus fell. Zeus anticipated this, though, and he grabbed the ledge, stopping his fall as soon as it began. As Hades stumbled backwards, holding his left arm, trying to rub feeling back into his numb fingers, Zeus pulled himself onto the ledge.
If they had fought centuries before, or even a few weeks before, Zeus would have won the battle before it even began. All Zeus would have had to do was launch a single lightning bolt, one charged so much that it could blind the entire world, the waves of light washing Hades back into the Underworld. But things had changed in the past few days – although Zeus had been reborn, he was still only partly in this world. Much of his spirit still hung back in the Underworld, because it was not welcomed in the world above. The people, both mortal and immortal, had short memories, and so they already began to forget their king. A king who had ruled for centuries without question became a distant memory in a few short days. And Hades was there to fill the vacuum. His invasion of the world was not so much a battle as it was a victory march: with every step of his troops, Hades was claiming more and more land for his kingdom. And with that land came people, mortals terrified of death that was all around them. They prayed to Hades, begging him not to take away their lives, and Hades fed off their despair. And so, after years and years of Hades having to take commands from his brother, the two gods were looking at each other as equals, something than neither brother had ever expected to happen.
But, as Zeus stood up and shook off the dust, Hades saw a familiar flicker in the King’s eyes. He had seen the same look before, when Zeus knocked their father from the skies and into the world’s depths. It was the look of a man who knew he was going to become king before he even overthrew the king. It was the look of a man who knew too much and who could do even more. It was a look that Hades thought he had, when he was climbing up the side of Olympus, towards the throne, towards his destiny. So why did Zeus have that look now?
“You’ve made too many mistakes, brother,” Zeus breathed as he advanced. “I can never die, because I have always had one person believe in me, no matter what. As long as Athena lives, I will always live!”
Zeus roared as he rushed, lightning drawn, towards Hades. The brothers met, steel against lightning, the sparks seen for miles around.
Book 18