by James Hunter
Asteria’s voice hit me. We must hurry, Jacob. Cerberus will return before long. It would be best if we were not here when he arrives.
No witty banter, then. Got it, I sent to the Beastiamancer.
I dropped the trident in the chariot next to Persephone. Then I darted away on my winged sandals, getting my shield set on my left arm and holding the Crystal Scythe in my right.
The godstone burned in my chest. Finally! Battle! All this skulking about infuriates me. We should be fighting!
The gears in the necklace whined like a Half-Life houndeye, setting off a serious of warning bells inside my head. If Ares and the godstone thought this was the right course of action, then I needed to slow down at least for a moment. Generally, I’d found that when the godstone was all “Hulk smash!” it was probably a good decision to do the opposite. I stopped myself. Wait just a second. I didn’t need to fight these demon women. I had an army for that.
And my real goal here was to rescue Myrina, Doris, and Ianthe.
I wheeled midair, offering the Furies my back, and headed for the parking lot, touching down behind my army. Amazons! Attack! I broadcast en masse.
Amazons! Attack! sounds like an awesome B movie, Phoebe joked.
But the rest of my forces were too busy kicking ass to quip.
Toxaris launched a volley of arrows, several of which found their mark, peppering the chest of one of the winged women. The Fury let out a roar, but that soon turned into shrieks of pain as more arrows landed with meaty thuds. Toxaris’ volley of arrows turned into a fucking hailstorm as arrows rose from every archer in my ranks, and all three of the Erinyes were turned into pincushions. The Furies were tough sons of bitches, no doubt about it, so the attack, though vicious, didn’t kill them. The arrow storm did, however, shred their wings, driving the three Furies toward the ground ...
Where my Beastiamancers waited, shields up, spears out, battle bulls and bears ready to gore and maul at the drop of a hat.
The trio of Erinyes, realizing exactly how boned they were, frantically tried to pull up, their brutalized wings flapping like mad, but Asteria was there waiting for them. The shifter general swooped down in the form of a prehistoric pterodactyl—an absolute murder machine if there ever was one—and laid into the sisters with razor-sharp talons and a tearing beak. Asteria fought like a force of nature, ripping one of the Furies’ wings clean off. That one dropped like a stone. Ariadne, in her Minotaur form, leapt up with a snort, cleaving into the monster with her pitted battle ax.
Meanwhile, Calla sent a wave of blistering fire into another Fury. Loxo added fire damage of her own, thanks to the heavy-hitting enchantments on Summer’s Tooth. Three ballistae hurled sapling-sized spears at the third of the Erinyes. The demon managed to dodge two of the enormous bolts, but the last one slammed into her guts, driving her into the side of the 7-Eleven, pinning her to the wall like a frog ready for dissection. She hung there, alive, but barely. Clearly, these things were tough, but were they strong enough to face a hundred Amazons?
Hippolyta let out a scream of pure battle lust. Maybe she’d been on guard duty a bit too long. She raced out and drove her spear into the neck of the sister pinned up against the convenience store, a gush of blood spurting through the air.
Phoebe’s crossbow, coupled with the Gatling guns on the Death Harvesters, pulverized the last Erinyes until she stood there, only a few bits of flesh hanging off her skeleton. Her wings were pulp. Burning feathers surrounded her and her mouth fell open in disbelief.
“Hey, bitches,” I called out. “Welcome to the town of Ass-kicked. Population: you!”
My Amazons could totally handle those fiends, though I might have to swoop in with the killing blow. If these things counted as demigods, then the power of the Crystal Scythe might be needed to put them down for keeps. But I could cross that bridge in a minute. I wheeled around, scanning for any sign of the other big threat: the three-headed guard doggo. There. Cerberus had skidded to a stop across the river, but he had figured out the dirty trick we’d played on him and didn’t seem too happy about being duped. He galloped across the trash, gaining enough speed and raw momentum to leap over the fiery river.
Shit, that could be a real problem. But I had an even more pressing worry to contend with: finding my dead Amazons. They were the real mission, I reminded myself. While my Amazons finished with the Furies, I hauled ass over to Charon, who was currently in his boat, bailing out buckets of flaming liquid. Smoke rose from his singed robes.
“Where did you hide Myrina and the others?” I shouted at the ageless boatman.
He pointed at the 7-Eleven.
“Why Rockford, Illinois?” I shouted.
He didn’t answer but continued to point at the convenience store.
The door opened, and out walked a plump Myrina, hauling bags of trash around to a dumpster on the side.
Wow. Hadn’t seen that coming.
Strange Things are Afoot at the 7-Eleven
I SKATED AWAY FROM the River Phlegethon and passed Persephone, who had ensnared all three of the beleaguered Erinyes in a tangles of vines. “Cerberus is incoming,” I shouted in passing. “My Amazons have these three covered; see if you can’t do something to keep him occupied. Giant wall of vines on our side of the bank might do the trick.”
And then, without waiting for a reply, I leapt into the air, skating through the fray as I made my way toward the chubby ghost of Myrina, who was busy tossing an overfull bag of trash into the dumpster. She flung the bag sidearm, the thud ringing out, then turned and made her way back into the 7-Eleven, completely ignoring the raging battle going on in the parking lot. Almost as though she were oblivious to it all, lost in some private hell only she could experience. As I got closer to the oh-so-familiar convenience store, the neon lights seemed to grow brighter against the dark, more intense and vivid. Never had that red, white, and green sign looked so beautiful to me.
Nor so strange.
Seriously, what was this place? Why was it here? And why in the shit did it look like Rockford?
Since I was so tall, I had to duck to get myself through the entryway. As soon as the automatic glass doors slid shut, the noise from the battle was gone. Dead. Replaced, instead, by some light ’90s grunge metal—Nirvana, “Smells like Teen Spirit”—playing softly over the store speakers. A wave of chilly air-conditioning washed over me, amazingly refreshing after contending with the molten flames of the River Phlegethon. It was my 7-Eleven, right down to the soundtrack. The aisles contained a myriad of junk food and little items that were overpriced but necessary for survival in Illinois—everything from canola oil to condoms.
There was the refrigerator/freezer section in the back with loads of soft drinks and enough high-fructose corn syrup to keep the obesity epidemic going indefinitely. The coffee and Slurpee station stood heroically against the back wall. Then I paused. Wait. Something was slightly off. All the labels were in ancient Greek and not quite right. For example, they weren’t Lay’s Potato Chips. They were Plato Chips. And on the red and white cans, instead of Coca-Cola, it was Socrates Cola. Yeah, weird. They had Donettes, though, and the cheap single-serving fruit pies in wrappers. I loved those.
Not sure I wanted to eat anything from this convenience store of the damned, though, especially considering Persephone’s food-related issues. I’d hate to be stuck here forever because I munched on some Doritos.
Myrina stood behind the counter, waiting on me. She was obviously a spirit, transparent and ghostly white. She was in a uniform; her nametag said she was Martha. Her hair was badly dyed, and she was wearing makeup, but not well.
Seeing the once-proud Battle Warden standing there, chunky and trashy, made me wonder a whole lot of different things. How on Earth would we be able to take that soul and put it back into a body? I didn’t have a blueprint for her. Suddenly, this all seemed like a terrible idea.
When she talked, though, she was Myrina, all right. “Are you going to buy anything? Or you going to stand th
ere with your thumb up your ass?”
“Myrina, it’s Jacob Merely.” I walked over, feeling a bit awkward in my armor, the War Mammoth Cloak billowing out behind me thanks to the air-con.
She rolled her eyes. “Stupid name. Which figures since you look stupid too.” Her gaze roamed up and down the length of my body, noting the details and filing them away for later insults.
Phoebe messaged me in a panic. Cerberus is out here. Persephone’s vine wall held up about as well as wet toilet paper—this doggo’s a bruiser. Might be we need your help. The Erinyes we could handle, but this could get real ugly, real quick.
Then a different voice slithered into my head, cutting Phoebe off. The god of war. In the Underworld. The sigil is gone. And I smell ... There was an odd slithering, almost a hissing noise that reminded me of a snake’s flickering tongue. Battle. I smell you, little Jacob Merely. I smell the mortality on you, and it gives me an appetite.
That voice. That presence. I felt small, inconsequential, painfully human compared to it. That was Hades. He was coming. And really, I knew I didn’t stand a chance against him. It looked like we’d lost our element of surprise.
But I would worry about him in a minute. I’d come for Myrina, and I wasn’t leaving without her, dammit—Hades or no.
I reached out and pulled Myrina over the counter. She wasn’t quite there, but my fingers managed to get a hold of something. Mostly it felt like polyester, like she was nothing but her cheap uniform.
“Dina! Irene! Help!” Myrina wailed, eyes wide, beating at me with ghostly fists that did absolutely nothing.
The door to the back room burst open and out ran my other two Amazons. They were both in uniforms as well and were walking around with an extra fifty pounds, easy. It actually kind of looked good on them. Too bad frizzed-out hair and too much lipstick killed the vibe.
“You’re Amazons,” I insisted. “I’ve come to bring you back from the dead. I can give you new bodies, and then you can help me fight Hades.”
Myrina shoved me away. Dina, otherwise known as Doris, shrank back with Irene—make that Ianthe—next to her. “Amazons? Hey, we’re not that big.”
“I liked that Wonder Woman movie,” Irene said, smacking her lips as she chewed on a piece of gum.
Holy crap, they really didn’t remember anything. Of course not. They’d gone through the River Lethe. And Charon had hidden them in the 7-Eleven and had hidden them well. Even I barely recognized them.
I thought back to my little geography lesson of the Underworld. Persephone had called this place the Asphodel Fields. The Mind of Odysseus, the amulet set in the armor on my back, gave me the answer. Which meant this was the place where normal, everyday souls wound up. Normal. Everyday. That was like Rockford, all right. Not really a big city, not really a farming community, it was normal and everyday. Just about the most vanilla town in the U.S. So maybe, what I was really seeing was my own version of the Asphodel Fields.
Cerberus roared outside, and even over the buffering effect of the sliding glass doors I heard the commotion. Yeah, that didn’t sound too promising.
I pushed him from my head, just as I’d done with Hades. There would be time for them in a few minutes. For now, this was my focus. My sole purpose. “Okay, Martha, Dina, Irene, listen, those are not your real names. This might sound crazy, but you’re actually semi-divine warriors fighting to save the universe. If you leave with me, we’ll go on crazy adventures, and eat good food, and there’s even some romance involved. Bottom line, I’m offering you a life of adventure. Or you can stay here working at 7-Eleven. Which do you want?” Then I gave them a big smile. Maybe I flexed my arms a little. Maybe I tried to smolder.
“Have we met?” Myrina asked, uncertainly. “I mean, like, have we done it, maybe?” Her eyes squinted as she looked me over. “I definitely feel like I’ve slept with you at some point.”
“Such a slut,” Doris said good-naturedly, slapping her on the shoulder.
“Only recently,” I answered.
“Well, I’m up next,” Ianthe insisted, waggling her eyebrows at me. “You dress like a dork, but you got a body that could kill.”
“Right. Well. Plenty of sex to go around on the road of adventure. We just need to get out the door first.”
Doris shot a glance at Irene and Myrina. “So, we doing this or what, ladies? I mean Bill has been a real dick lately. That asshole scheduled me to work this weekend even though he knew I had tickets to Dave Matthews. I say we do it. What’s the worst that can happen?”
“Well, he is carrying a murder scythe,” Irene replied, hands planted on her hips. “So I guess he might murder us?”
“But is that really worse than Bill, though?” Doris shot back.
“He won’t kill us,” Myrina finally offered. “Not intentionally,” she added. “I don’t know why ... but I trust him.” She frowned, shook her head, then pulled off a black apron, stained down the front. “I don’t know why, but I’m in.”
Doris and Irene both shrugged and followed suit, discarding their aprons.
“If Martha’s got good vibes about you, then you gotta be okay,” Irene said. “Let’s get this show on the road.”
As quickly as I could, I ushered the three women out of the 7-Eleven, sad to leave the air-conditioning behind.
Again, I felt that awful presence pressing down on me. I have grand plans for your soul, little Jacob Merely. You will know suffering hitherto unknown to even the most wicked and wretched. You will long for Atlas’ fate. Perhaps I shall find an eagle to eat something other than your liver every day.
I shuddered. My heart sank, and I was having trouble breathing. That thing. That awful presence. It was coming for me across the Plain of Judgement. Fate wasn’t on my side. Hades was going to find me and torture me. If I were lucky, after a few eons, he’d get around to killing me.
As I skittered out into the parking lot with my three dead Amazons in tow, I found pieces of the Erinyes scattered across the sidewalk and asphalt. No problems there, though my Amazons, it seemed, were having a helluva time dealing with Cerberus. The gigantic three-headed dog was savaging his way through their ranks, biting, snapping, and howling. His hair stood on end. That spit I’d seen drooling from his mouths splashed onto the pavement, creating pits of acid, which my Amazons deftly avoided.
Loxo and Sophia were doing what they’d done against the Hydra, keeping the thing busy and staying just inches out of reach. The rest of my Amazons waited their turn to get a shot at the dog.
The Huntress messaged me. We can handle the puppy. You and Phoebe need to get Myrina and the others back into their bodies. I liked their bodies.
I quickly scanned the battlefield. Phoebe and Persephone were by the river of fire. Charon’s necro boat sat on the banks of the river, upright but empty. Persephone was busy, arms waving, verdant green magic radiating from her in a halo as she used ropy vines, thicker than my arms, to lift the anvil from the chariot, setting it in Charon’s ship. The goddess quickly added the chest that held the figurines, followed in short order by the Hammer of Hephaestus.
As for tall, dark, and bony ... Charon simply floated in the middle of the river, watching. He looked none too pleased by what we were doing, but he also made no move to stop us.
Phoebe scrambled into the boat, her bad leg giving her a bit of trouble.
Beside me, Myrina and the two other Battle Wardens watched in wonder as the giant three-headed dog fought my army of beautiful women. The girls in polyester uniforms didn’t lose their shit, despite the fact that they still didn’t know who or what they were. Maybe working at the 7-Eleven had left them jaded. The late shift at 7-Eleven, even in Rockford, could get pretty wild.
“No time for rubbernecking,” I shouted, ushering the three ghosts through the madness of the battlefield and over to the forge. Persephone helped us into the boat. Even with six adults, there was plenty of room.
I turned to Phoebe. “Hades is coming, so we better make this quick.”
I know. He’s in my head, she sent. And he’s not being very nice about it.
“Hey, quick question. Do you see a 7-Eleven parking lot over there?” I asked.
Phoebe raised her eyebrows. Not sure what you mean, boss. This looks like a market town to me. It’s far more Ancient Greece than modern America.
I hefted the hammer. “Huh, well it seems that the Underworld is made to order, then. Or at least the Asphodel Fields are. I’m seeing my hometown.”
Great. You can sing Bruce Springsteen to me later. We have work to do. Phoebe motioned to the river of fire. “Inferno Shield, if you don’t mind ...”
I whipped the Inferno Shield around and held it out, focusing my will into a knife’s edge; the shield blazed hotter and hotter, the flames glowing white-hot. Phoebe licked her lips and lifted the Myrina doll, cradling the figure in her rough palm.
I blanched. “No, let’s not do her first. Let me try it with Doris or Ianthe, so I can practice.”
Sweat poured down Phoebe’s face, but she paid that no mind. Her eyes were fierce, her jaw clenched in concentration. You’ve done this hundreds of times, Jacob. This is why we are here. This is why we are risking everything.
Horns in the distance. Drums thumped. The ground rattled, no doubt under the feet of an encroaching army. Hades was coming.
“You’re right,” I said, steeling my resolve.
Phoebe oh-so-carefully laid a figurine made from gold, iron, platinum, and other precious metals onto the shield. That done, Persephone used her vines to lay the already burning shield onto the flames of the river. As the fire ate away her plants, ash sprinkled down into the river. Persephone slid in another set of vines for additional support.
I opened the gaming display and went to the “Create Amazon” submenu, located in the MANAGE AMAZON tab. I could create a Battle Warden, but I had no option to create a general. I needed a level-fifteen general, not a level-one Battle Warden. I needed all Myrina’s strengths and skills, and there was no way I could power level her up like I’d done with Sabra.