by Diana Tyler
Chloe glanced at the pýli on the floor. “You want to see Eurydice.”
“How do you know her name?”
“I told you. I know you, Orpheus.” She picked up the pýli and carried it to him. “Put your eye there,” she said, pointing to the black circle.
“It will only sting a little,” Hermes warned.
“I’ll endure any torture to see her face again,” answered Orpheus.
Charis and Iris sighed in unison; Orpheus was a romantic, that was for sure.
“Wait,” said Chloe, her heart falling to her stomach. “I forgot. You can’t see Eurydice in the future because you haven’t lived it yet. I’m so sorry, Orpheus.”
Iris approached, twin flames hovering above her. “But you can see the future, Chloe.”
“Yes, but I never saw Orpheus and Eurydice together,” Chloe answered. “He only told me they had reunited in heaven.”
Tears welled in Orpheus’s eyes, filling them with a heartbreaking shade of blue. “That will more than suffice,” he said.
As Chloe raised the pýli to her eye, a long, green-speckled tail burst from the shadows and wrapped itself around the device. Orpheus and Hermes pulled against it, but the creature was too strong. Without a struggle, it broke free from their hands and disappeared into the darkness. The pýli clattered to the floor.
“What in Zeus’ name was that?” Chloe said, clutching Iris.
A loud splash sounded from somewhere deep inside the cave, followed by an ominous hissing noise that weaved, like a ghost’s whisper, throughout the labyrinth of rooms.
“Orpheusss…isss…mine…”
Chills ran up Chloe’s neck. She had heard such a hissing voice before, the first time her doma had manifested and taken her to an ancient ship that Iris and Tycho were aboard.
“Scylla?” she said.
“Scylla’s lair is in the Great Sea,” Iris whispered.
“It’s Echidna,” Hermes said.
The creature’s tail, strong and scabbed, crept around the rock closest to Charis.
“Charis, watch out!” Chloe shouted.
Charis vanished, reappearing in a split second beside her mother as the serpent’s tail extended into the center of the room; it was at least fifteen feet in length.
Where’s this thing’s head, Chloe thought, gripping Hermes’ wand at her side.
And then it—she—peered around a pillar that reached from floor to roof. The snake was a woman—at least, part of it was.
From the neck down, Chloe thought her hideous, as Scylla was. Her brown, bloated belly was distended from whatever her last meal had been. But her head and face were striking, more beautiful than Circe’s, which made Chloe wonder why the world’s most evil women were also gorgeous. Her black hair, shiny as silk, cascaded to the floor in luxuriant waves. Her eyes were amethyst and hypnotic, and drew Chloe further into them the longer she looked.
“It isss Orpheussss’ desssstiny to dwell here forever with me…”
“Go back to Hades, you stinking witch!” Orpheus yelled. He ran across the cave and fetched his lyre. “Cover your ears,” he said, as he set his fingers to the strings.
As Chloe and the others obeyed, Echidna emitted an ear-piercing shriek, drowning out Orpheus’s music, neutralizing its effects.
“It isn’t working,” Chloe shouted.
Echidna smiled, her brilliant white teeth beaming in Iris’s flames as they floated like lanterns above her head. She stuck out her long, forked tongue and pierced one of them, making it sizzle into smoke. Then she uttered a high-pitched scream with such superhuman force that the lyre fell from Orpheus’s shaking hands.
The instant he bent down to get it, the serpent’s tail raced toward him and snatched the lyre, then raised it high overhead where it dangled mere inches from the largest of Iris’s flares.
“He isss uselessss to you without thissss, isss he not?” Echidna intoned. “I’ve alwaysss wanted to learn how to play like Orpheussss. But sssince I have no handsss, I shall have to be content to use hissss…”
Orpheus drew a dagger from his belt and pressed its tip to his wrist. “I would sooner hack off my hands and watch you eat them than play a single note for you.”
Echidna’s body stiffened as she lifted her head higher until it grazed the ceiling. Her tail lowered the lyre nearer to the fire. “Sssooo you will not be needing thissss…”
Before she could burn the lyre, Chloe took the wand in both hands and pointed it at Echidna’s face.
Tape.
As soon as the word popped into Chloe’s mind, a silver piece of duct tape appeared across Echidna’s mouth. The monster tried to scream, but only a muffled shout was heard. Her tail swung the lyre toward the flame, but in a flash, Charis was in the air to intercept it and vanished to who knew where.
Chloe breathed again. The lyre was safe. And now for the rest of them…
Hermes clapped his hand on Chloe’s shoulder. “Well done. The wand is fond of you.”
Echidna was struggling to reach her sealed mouth with her tail.
“Or maybe it’s just not fond of her,” Chloe said, watching as the serpent part of Echidna began to thrash and flail. “I think we’ve worn out our welcome.”
Iris held out her palms to Echidna. “I doubt you’ll be able to withstand a tunnel of fire as well as you do a single flame.” Two walls of fire streamed out of Iris’s hands as her face contorted with pain. The flames formed a fence around Echidna’s body, rising around her so only her raven-black head was visible. “Hold still and you won’t be harmed,” Iris shouted.
The four of them backed away toward the cave mouth, eyeing the beast as her fierce tail tore through the flames.
Chloe raised the wand once more and aimed it at Echidna’s lips.
“What are you doing?” Hermes said.
“How will she eat if she can’t open her mouth?”
Hermes sighed. “You want to spare the life of the creature that would kill us all if she had the chance?”
Chloe lowered the wand and looked at him, silently weighing whether the decision to save Echidna was the right one. “Duna gave all of us life, even monsters like her. As far as I’m concerned, it’s his job to take life away, not mine.”
Chloe pointed the wand at Echidna again, this time envisioning the tape being peeled from her mouth. The wand obeyed.
Echidna wasted no time using her freed vocal cords to hiss curses and scream at the flames. “Ashersss, you will never defeat ussss… Apollo…shall alwaysss…win!”
Chloe stepped into the sunlight, then called back over her shoulder, “It’s not over till the fat monster sings.”
“Did she say anything else?” Ethan asked. “I mean, did she give you any more details about the ambrosia?”
Chloe rubbed the sleep from her eyes as he handed her a cup of ironwort and sat beside her.
This time the scent of the tea turned her stomach only slightly. “Thanks.” She took a sip, trying her best to imagine it was a cinnamon-sprinkled latte. “And no, not really. She just said that it’s the reason she’s holding my brother hostage.”
Ethan stared into the campfire, stroking the light brown stubble of his chin.
“What are you thinking?”
“The ambrosia she wants has to be back in time somewhere,” Ethan said. “That has to be the reason she has your brother.”
“To get to me,” Chloe said. “To use my doma.” Ethan nodded. “I can’t help her, Ethan. If I do, she gains immortality. If she gains immortality, the world is worse off than it was when we got here.”
Ethan turned to her, his expression grave. “If you don’t, she’ll keep Damian prisoner forever. Or worse.”
“Yes, worse,” came Hermes’ voice.
Chloe turned to see him hovering in the air, honeycake crumbs tumbling from his mouth.
“I know Leto better than anyone,” Hermes said. “She is many things, but merciful is not one of them. She has only two uses for Damian: to hold him hostage until you help her, or t
o kill him if you refuse.”
Chloe gazed over at Orpheus. He was standing beside the paddock in which a group of colts loped and kicked up their heels. His lyre protruded from a leather sack one of the refugees had given him after he’d serenaded the children, and many adults, to sleep the night before.
The poet had been here only a few hours and already he was a celebrity. The women couldn’t walk by him without blushing and fanning their faces. The teenage boys desperately wanted to learn how to play and charm as he did; this second they were off searching for instruments or making them. The older men, no doubt feeling inferior in this hero’s presence, had brandished their swords and were fencing with one another instead of working. A few were engaged in foot races, churning up dust as they sped past. Chloe could almost smell the testosterone in their sweat.
She couldn’t help but think of Damian. He would outrun every one of them if he were here. “That’s why we have Orpheus,” she said.
Ethan shifted and threw another log on the fire. “It’s not enough.”
“What do you mean? All Hermes has to do is take us to Mania’s house. We’ll take cover somewhere and guard Orpheus while he plays his lullaby, then Damian can disappear and come find us.”
Hermes lowered himself to the ground and dusted the crumbs from his hands. “One problem. Unless Damian knows we’re coming, and by some miracle has use of his hands to cover his ears, he’ll be just as susceptible to Orpheus’s lyre as Leto. There’ll be no getting him out if he’s unconscious.”
“Then we carry him out,” said Chloe. “Not a big deal.”
“That’s if everything goes perfectly, Chloe,” said Ethan. “And there’s no guarantee of that. The lyre’s effects aren’t instant. Mania could hear Orpheus start playing and then go completely berserk.”
“She could make ten times the noise that Echidna did to mute his music,” added Hermes.
Chloe had thought of that, but she couldn’t afford—Damian couldn’t afford—for her to succumb to fear and what-if, worst-case scenarios. She had to be positive. But she also couldn’t be dumb.
“Then what do we do? Just let my brother die? Just let Mania destroy the world and rule it the way she wants to?” Chloe’s heart tightened in her chest. Hot tears rushed to her eyes and blurred the orange flames before her. How could she live with herself if she failed to save the future—and lost Damian in the process?
“You have to help her,” said Hermes.
Chloe pulled the wand from her belt and pointed it at him. “So that’s what this is about, this whole I’m-a-changed-man act of yours. You’ve just been waiting for the right time to convince me to help your beloved maniac become invincible.” She took a step toward him, waving the wand in circles. “I should’ve known better than to forgive you. People like you don’t change.”
She lunged forward, and the image of an overweight platypus flashed through her brain.
Ethan grabbed her wrist and snatched the wand from her hand. “Don’t,” he said, pulling her back. “He’s right.”
“What do you mean ‘he’s right’? Don’t you see how he’s been playing us?”
Hermes stood up and doffed his cap. “Quite the other way around. My intention is not to play games with you, but with Leto. What you must do, you must do alone. But this should help you.” He placed the cap in Chloe’s hand.
“Fine,” said Chloe. “I’m listening.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
ADMISSION
Hermes looked around, ensuring that there was no one near enough to eavesdrop. “Go to Leto,” he said. “Tell her, with indubitable conviction, that you’ll happily assist her if she unshackles your brother and lets him go. This she has to do first, you must tell her, because you rightly cannot trust her. Then,” he said, floating in circles around the fire, “you travel in time, fetch the ambrosia and bring it back.”
Chloe put on the cap. It was more comfortable than it looked. “And what do I do with this thing?”
“You put it on, of course. Simply by wishing it, you will make yourself invisible and free your brother. Then you steal the ambrosia from Leto before she eats it.”
Chloe sighed, fiddling with the frizzy ends of her hair. “I can’t just shut her mouth like I did with the serpent lady?”
Hermes shook his head. “Her winds are too strong. You’d have to do something more permanent, something that would prevent her from opening her mouth ever again.”
“And I won’t let her die,” said Chloe. “At least not on my watch.”
Ethan stood up and stuffed his hands in his pockets the way he did when he was trying to tame his frustration. “But what if you have to? It could come down to that, Chloe. You have to be prepared to kill her with Hermes’ wand if you have to.”
“No,” said Chloe, a sharp edge of vehemence in her voice. “Then I’d be no better than she is. Duna will make a way. He hasn’t let me down so far.”
Ethan exhaled loudly through his nose and interlaced his fingers on the back of his head.
Chloe smiled. Ethan was an expert temper restrainer.
“Desperate times call for desperate measures,” he said. “I’m not telling you to do it. I’m just asking you to be ready.”
Chloe’s body got warm. She set the tea aside and stood up. “I couldn’t live with Leto’s death on my conscience, Ethan. It’s easy for you to tell me to kill someone when you’re here sitting on the sidelines.” She regretted the words as soon as she’d said them, but it was too late now.
A long silence passed before anyone moved.
Finally Ethan returned his hands to his sides. “I know what it’s like,” he said softly, a hollowness filling his eyes. “I killed someone.”
Chloe thought she hadn’t heard him correctly. Even if Ethan were capable of such a thing, when would he have had the chance to do it? And then the answer came to her.
“At the Religious Council building.” The question sounded more like a statement.
Ethan nodded and clenched his jaw, his lips straightening into a thin hard line. “One of the councilman’s guards, just after your brother and my parents escaped.” He closed his eyes, both eyelids quivering under the strain of those dark memories. “I had no choice.”
Chloe went to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Ethan, I’m so sorry.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for,” he said flatly. “It was my decision to kill him. I chose my life over his.”
“But if you hadn’t done it…”
Ethan stepped away, out from under her touch. “If I hadn’t done it, nothing would’ve changed.”
“That isn’t true.”
“It is true.” He pivoted to her, taking a moment to compose himself. “Even if I’d been killed, everything would have played out just the same. My family and Damian would’ve escaped, you would’ve found them without me, and I’d be dead, in heaven, sitting on the sidelines just like I am here.”
Before Chloe could say anything, he closed the gap between them, standing mere inches away from her. “I’m not proud of what I did,” he whispered, “but I don’t think I was supposed to roll over and do nothing. And I don’t think you are, either. Just be ready.”
“Forgive me,” Hermes said. Tears filled the messenger’s eyes. His hands shook as he lifted them and pressed them to his heart. “The blood you shed, Ethan, covers not your hands, but the hands of all the gods. It was we who created war. It was we who ushered death into this planet. The world suffers the repercussions of our perfidy.”
Despite herself, Chloe’s heart sank at the sight of Hermes. Standing there weeping, absent his cap or wand, he looked like a common beggar or homeless transient. She didn’t want to pity him. Up until now, she’d still been suspicious of him, half expecting him to whisk her away to the Fields of Asphodel like he’d done before.
Iris was right. Bitterness had taken hold of Chloe’s heart, but this was her chance to break free of it. Sure, there was still no guarantee that Hermes wasn’t up to som
ething, but the tortured look in his eyes was genuine, she knew that much. Right now, in this moment, he was a different god; he was a god pleading with mortals to forgive him.
“Forgive me,” he repeated, dropping to his knees as he clasped his hands and held them against his brow. “For all the pain I’ve brought to you, and all the lies I’ve told. I swear, and may Duna strike me if my tongue speaks falsely, I will never again work evil against mankind, nor hoodwink any Asher.” He prostrated himself across the rocky ground and stayed there for a long while.
Her mind made up, Chloe transformed the wand into an olive branch. She tapped him gently on the shoulder. “You gave this to me once, and I refused it. I hope you’ll accept it from me now.”
Hermes lifted his head, tears spilling from smiling eyes as he beheld the branch and the green leaves sprouting from it.
Chloe offered her hand and helped him to his feet. “This belongs to you,” she said, holding out the wand.
Hermes took her other hand to his lips and kissed it softly. “You reminded me of something just now.” He lowered her hand and stepped backward. “Keep the wand. You are far more worthy of it than I am.” The golden wings of his sandals buzzed like hummingbird wings as he levitated off the ground.
“Where are you going?” Chloe asked.
“Somewhere I should have gone ages ago,” he answered. “I’ll return before nightfall.” And then he was off, arms outstretched like eagle’s wings as he weaved across the sky, disappearing over the dewy, sunbathed hills.
Chloe secured the wand in her girdle and looked back at Ethan. He sat on a log, spinning a stick between his fingers. She sat down next to him, praying silently for the right words to say.
“That was big of you,” he said. “While you were talking to Hermes I tried to imagine me forgiving the councilman for what he did to our parents.” He shook his head and tossed the stick aside. “I think I’d rather take a tour of the Underworld.” He gave a half smile, but it didn’t last.
“The Underworld is worse. Lots worse,” said Chloe. “It’s strange, but I feel better than I have in a long time. Free…relieved…I can’t explain it.”