Once Upon A Midnight

by Stephanie Rowe

  “Where?” Demarco asked, swiveling his head around. “I can’t see anything but people.”

  Great. We definitely didn’t need the attention of fae. “You probably don’t want to see them,” I said. “Tweety, don’t stare or they’ll be on to us. Look at me, okay.” When he didn’t immediately give me his attention, I put my hands on the sides of his face and forced him to look into my eyes. “We’re going to the door on the other side of the lines. Just keep up and don’t pay attention to them. If they know you can see them, they’ll mess with you, remember?”

  He nodded.

  “That door?” Demarco asked, pointing. “But…doesn’t that door lead back out to the main area?” He craned his head around to look at the doors leading into the dome. “We’re not going in?”

  Based on the location of the door, his question made sense. The exit should lead back out to the crowded grounds, but the entire peninsula was teeming with magic, so pesky little details like physics were inconsequential. “Not quite,” I replied.

  When we approached the door, the guard standing beside it kept his arms crossed as he followed us with his gaze.

  “We’re here to see her. Is she in?” I asked once we reached him.

  “Depends on who wants to know.”

  I plucked a hair from my head and handed it to the guard. Without saying a word, he took it and disappeared through the door.

  Tweety leaned against the wall and watched the lines of people, his expression amused and interested. I elbowed him in the side. “Stop staring. If they catch you looking…”

  He held up his hands and turned away. “I know, I know.”

  Having tried to warn him, I went back to worrying my bottom lip and inspecting the blisters on my hands. I probably needed to clean and bandage them, but with everything else going on I’d all but forgotten about them.

  “You okay?” Demarco asked, nudging me. “You seem tense all of a sudden.”

  “My last trip here wasn’t so great. Hoping this time is better.”

  “What happened?” he asked.

  The guard returned, saving me from having to respond, and gestured us into the hallway. The door closed behind us, extinguishing the thump of bass and the chatter of the crowd.

  Tweety sighed in relief.

  “This way,” the guard said, leading us across the concrete floor to a long wooden table. “I’m to remind you that the Oracle insists on a peaceful existence. All weapons and packs must be left here before you can enter her presence. No violence will be tolerated.”

  Since Tweety’s talons and beak were the only weapons he needed, he dropped his pack on the table and stood aside as Demarco and I disarmed.

  “We’re gonna get these back, right?” Demarco asked, reluctantly lowering his badass hammer onto the table before reaching for the gun holstered under his shirt and the knives sheathed in his boots.

  The guard’s face scrunched up in disgust. “The Oracle is no thief, and she has no need of your war weapons.” He snapped his fingers and the table full of our gear disappeared. “Of course you’ll get them back when you leave.” He stormed out the door we’d entered through.

  The door vanished, turning into a dead end, and we stood in a stark, gray, windowless hallway. We headed in the only direction we could, following the straight hall for about a hundred paces before it curved to the left. We walked past the curve, and then Demarco looked back. I followed his gaze and saw only gray.

  “Where are we?” he asked, sounding agitated and a little panicky. “What is this place? I can’t seem to get my bearings.”

  The guy had spent twenty-five years in a place that made geographical sense to him. No shifting worlds or gods changing up the scenery. Sure, the supplies replenished and the utilities magically always worked, but it had all happened on one plane of existence. One earth. Boy, was he in for a big surprise. Once again I grabbed his hand and pulled him to a stop.

  He looked from our clasped hands to my face. “Why do you do that?”

  “I don’t know.” I dropped his hand. “I want your undivided attention and—”

  “And she’s used to working with me,” Tweety said. “At least she just grabs your hand. I get my face tugged down until she’s sure I’m listening.”

  I gestured at the griffin. “There. That’s why I do it. My only real companions are a child and a teenager and neither of them listen worth a damn. Now stop questioning me and close your eyes,” I said. Although I also kind of enjoyed the little tingle I felt when our skin touched.

  “And she’s bossy,” Tweety quipped.

  “I’m trying to help him,” I retorted.

  Demarco smirked and closed his eyes. I stared at his handsome face for a moment, memorizing the strong curve of his jaw and the perfect slope of his nose.

  “Now what?” he asked, reminding me I was supposed to be walking him through a training exercise and not checking him out.

  Tweety snickered and I glared at the griffin.

  I walked Demarco through the focus exercise that usually centered Tweety. Then, we went on to his environment. “Remove your expectations. Get rid of the way you think the earth should work. You’re in a gray hall, and that’s it. Now…feel yourself standing in that hall. Take a deep breath, and open up your consciousness. What’s beyond the walls? The ceiling? The floor? What do you feel?”

  Lines of strain drew across his forehead and around his lips. “Nothing. That’s what’s so strange.”

  Extending my consciousness, I could feel shadows lurking. I couldn’t call them to me, but I could feel their presence. “What do you normally sense?”

  “Metals. I can usually tell where they are and…uh…move them.”

  “Move them?” I asked.

  “Whoa.” Tweety’s eyes widened. “That earth-wave thing when Athena showed up…you did that?”

  Demarco nodded.

  “That is so cool.”

  I had to agree. Moving metals was a neat trick, but only when there were metals to move. “It’s the Pythia’s business to know things. She probably sees this ability as another way to attack, so she took it away. I can sense the shadows, but I can’t call them. I bet Tweety can’t transform here either.”

  The griffin concentrated for a moment before saying, “You’re right, I can’t.”

  Demarco’s eyes opened, and I found myself staring into his silvery-blues.

  “Have you used this ability to do anything other than create weapons and shake the ground?” I asked.

  “I used metals in the earth to shift the dirt and create tunnels, trying to get me and Mom out. Even underground I couldn’t get past the walls.” The frustration in his voice made my chest hurt. I couldn’t imagine being trapped like that, feeling useless despite my strength and abilities.

  “But you’ve never used it as a weapon to attack someone?”

  He raised his eyebrows.

  “Right. Stupid question. But you must be able to if the Pythia is blocking you.”

  He let out a breath. “It feels weird. Like I’m missing something.”

  But at least he sounded more relaxed. We resumed our trek down the hallway.

  Tweety had thoughtfully watched the entire exchange, and now he looked upon Demarco with a whole new level of respect. “I bet that tunneling trick will come in handy when we need to get to Hades.”

  Demarco shook his head. “No point in it when Romi can take us wherever we need to go.”

  “It doesn’t work like that,” I replied. “I can only go places I’ve seen, either in person or in a recent photograph. I have to be able to give the shadows a clear image of where we’re going or they’ll tear me apart.”

  “That sounds dangerous. Doreán doesn’t move through the shadows alone, does he?”

  His concern for our son made my insides go gooey. Mentally kicking them back into shape, I replied, “No. He’s far too young.”

  In truth, I’d been a year younger than Doreán when I’d learned to walk through the realm of Ere
bus, but Shade hadn’t exactly been concerned about my well-being. His priorities ran more toward making sure I could lift a wallet without getting caught. Doreán had even less of Erebus’s blood than I did, and I hadn’t been willing to find out whether or not the shadows would accept him on his own.

  Thinking about my kiddo made me sad, so I shifted my focus to the plan for getting him back. “What about the weapons you brought? You said you know how to wield them. How did you learn if it was just you and your mom?”

  Demarco’s smirk warmed me in all the right places. “Romi, I had unlimited time, funds, and an Internet connection. I’ve been training since I was old enough to hold a hammer. Mom was afraid they’d come back for her one day, and I wanted to protect her.”

  Couldn’t she take care of herself?

  Clamping my mouth down before I could ask the question, I reminded myself his mom was human. Of course she couldn’t protect herself from the gods. I visualized a young Demarco—in my mind he looked a lot like Doreán—swinging a hammer and promising to look out for his mom. It was kinda heartwarming, but also ridiculous. A kid would end up just as dead as a human.

  “What’s that humming noise?” Demarco asked, knuckling his ear.

  It was weird that he’d picked up on a sound before Tweety. I strained my ears but couldn’t hear anything. “Tweety?” I asked.

  “It’s faint, but it sounds like music to me. Not that crap outside either. This is…flute. Beautiful.”

  “We must be approaching the first door,” I replied, still surprised I couldn’t hear anything.

  As we walked Demarco’s scowl deepened. “The noise doesn’t bug you? It sounds like a chainsaw cutting through my nerves.”

  “You’re insane,” Tweety replied, his expression turning wistful as he gazed down the hall. “It’s nice. Reminds me of something from the forest of my childhood. Enchanting. Inviting.”

  That sounded more like the doors I remembered from my trip. This hallway had nearly killed me. Almost every single door I passed had called to me, beckoning for me to enter. When I reached for the first door, Shade planted his feet and his will, forbidding me from going through it. But the call of the doors had been too strong to resist. My memories of the experience were blurred with desperation, pain, and torture. Shade had restrained me and carried me past the doors, my mind dancing to their intoxicating music while my insides tried to fold in on themselves for wanting to disobey my sire and pass through each one.

  “I hear it,” I said. “But it sounds more like the hum of a power line. A little annoying, but that’s about it.”

  Shade wasn’t here to command me, so even if the doors called to me, they wouldn’t tear me apart like before. No, my fear this time was that I’d forget all about Doreán and march right through the first door that caught my fancy, but I felt no pull whatsoever. I took my first deep breath since we’d entered the place, and a smile tugged at my lips.

  “I take it that’s a good thing,” Demarco said.

  “Very good. I need to stay focused on what we’re doing. The doors can be distracting.”

  Our first door stood on the left-hand side of the hallway. Some sort of oak had been fashioned into a giant rose with a doorknob sticking out of one of the leaves. It was nice, but not the breathtaking image I remembered.

  “Where would it take us?” Tweety asked, examining the door.

  I shrugged, having no idea.

  Demarco cupped his ears with his hands. “We should have brought earplugs.”

  “I don’t think they’d make a difference,” I replied. “This hallway is some sort of test you have to take to get to the Pythia.”

  “A test?” Demarco asked. “Don’t you think you should have warned us?”

  “Shade said it’s different every time.”

  The second door was made out of plain wood, and didn’t appeal to any of us. We passed several others, none of which created the same reaction I’d had my first time in the hallway. My companions seemed relatively unaffected as well…at least until Demarco stopped.

  I almost ran smack into him. He was staring at a wooden door with a complex design of lines and curves. It wasn’t beautiful, like the rose door had been, but its uniqueness appealed to me on a deeper level.

  “Do you hear it?” Demarco asked.

  The tune was calm and easy, something you’d hear on a tropical island. I nodded. “It’s nice.”

  “Are you sure we can’t go through the doors?” he asked.

  No. Come to think of it, I wasn’t sure. Shade had forbidden me from doing it, but why? I’d never known. Wait, yes he had. “If we go through any of the doors, we’ll never reach the Pythia.”

  “Do we really need to talk to her that badly?”

  Yes, but I was struggling to remember why. I looked to Tweety for help, and his eyes were wide with concern.

  “You two are starting to scare me,” he said. “Romi? Demarco?” He waved his hands in front of us and then snapped his fingers. “Uh…are you being serious right now? Yes, we have to get to the Pythia. We’re hoping she can give us information to get Doreán back, remember?”

  Doreán.

  The name brought me an intense amount of joy, but also great sadness. I felt for him in the shadows, but there was still a void where he should be.

  “I can’t go through that door,” I said. “Demarco.” I tugged on his arm. “We have to go. Doreán’s counting on us.”

  Demarco cast one more glance at the door before letting me lead him away. When we rounded the next bend, his shoulders slumped and something within me relaxed.

  “What was that?” he asked.

  “You two looked like zombies,” Tweety replied. “Can we pick up the pace a little? This place is really creeping me out.”

  I was adequately creeped out as well, so I broke into a jog and the guys followed. We hurried past the few remaining doors until green moss crept over the stark, gray walls, ceiling, and floor, creating a welcome contrast. The moss beneath our feet turned spongy, then became grass. Ivy clung to the walls and ceiling, blocking out the fluorescent overhead lights. Just when it started getting too dark to see in front of us, lightning bugs appeared, dancing through the air as they led us in.

  “Is this normal?” Demarco asked, scanning the area as we walked.

  I shrugged. “As normal as you can expect from an ancient magical priestess.”

  Then, because we had no other choice, we followed the lightning bugs into the dark and scary forest.

  CHAPTER TEN

  WE STAYED ON the path until we reached a wooden gazebo with a table and four chairs nestled beneath it. In one of the chairs sat a beautiful woman wearing a grassy, floral dress that flowed seamlessly into the ground, making it impossible to see where the grass ended and her dress began. Unkempt, brunette curls covered her head, spilling down almost to her waist. Although her gaze never left the cards in her hands, I had no doubt she was aware of our presence. With Demarco and Tweety flanking me, I strode up to the table and waited to be acknowledged.

  The Pythia frowned as she flipped over a card, setting it on top of a small stack on the table. I glanced at the card long enough to make out storm clouds before she picked up the stack and turned it over, drawing my attention to her face. Slitted green serpent eyes stared back at me, holding me captive in a soul-searching gaze.

  “My, how you’ve changed since I last saw you,” she said. Her voice held the slightest echo. “Once the captive child, now you’re the worried mother.” Her eyes still locked with mine, she selected a card from the deck and set it on the table before releasing my gaze. I looked down at the card to find a woman, her stomach round with child, looking out into the distance. “I told Shade what would happen if he didn’t release you, but he refused to believe me. Now here you are with him.” Her gaze flickered to Demarco. Just as the fates predicted.”

  The fates? Demarco’s presence was more like an act of Aphrodite, punctuated by Hades, Poseidon, and Athena, but I wasn’t about t
o argue with the oracle.

  A forked tongue peaked out, wetting her burgundy-stained lips. “Everyone thinks they can trick the fates, but the sisters are never fooled.”

  Yes, yes, she was right and Shade was wrong, but I really wished she’d get on with telling me what I needed to know now.

  She flipped another card over. Her face brightened and laughter bubbled up from her chest. I leaned forward, trying to catch a glimpse of what she found so funny, but she pulled the card to her breast and gave me a chastising click of her tongue. “No peeking. It ruins the surprise.”

  “I’d much rather be prepared than surprised,” I replied.

  She smiled and gestured at the chairs around the table. “Please, have a seat. Relax. You have a long journey ahead of you.”

  Well that didn’t sound promising. “Thank you for seeing us,” I said, accepting the seat beside her as I tried to think of a respectful way to hurry this along. She had to know why we were there, so I wasn’t sure whether I should initiate the conversation or wait for her to. I looked to my companions, but they were intently scoping out the Pythia and her digs.

  After the way my heated exchange with Athena had gone down, I really didn’t want to piss off the oracle. So, we waited.

  At least a half hour passed before she stacked her cards face down and folded her hands on top of them. She turned toward Tweety and cocked her head like I’d seen him do on numerous occasions. A series of guttural sounds and tongue clicks came from her mouth before I realized she was speaking to him in his native language.

  Tweety glanced at me, his expression worried, and replied in the griffin tongue.

  The two of them spoke for a while before the Pythia turned to greet Demarco. “Demarco, son of Hephaestus, your aura is troubled.”

  His brow furrowed.

  “You’ve discarded all your weapons, but still you hold so much violence in your heart.”

  He looked down at the table.

  “You were a child when you made that oath. Will the man before me keep it?”

  “I intend to,” he replied.