The Eye of Zeus

by Alane Adams

  “Is that place for real?” Angie asked. “It sounds like there’s a party going on over there.”

  “Elysium,” Macario sighed, looking at the blinking lights. “A place where there is eternal fun and laughter. That is where I will reside when I have spent my life doing heroic deeds.”

  “Stick with me and you might end up in Tartar Sauce,” I joked, eyeing a sign made of charred wood with TARTARUS burned into it. It pointed down a rocky path toward the smoking mountain.

  Damian frowned. “That place is no joke, Phoebes. Tartarus houses the worst of the worst. The ones the gods want to punish for eternity.”

  “Yeah, the Erinyes have given me an open invitation, remember? How do we get to Hades’s mansion?”

  “Katzy, we have a problem.” Angie turned me around to face the other direction. “Where are the doors we came through?”

  Behind us, a field stretched as far as I could see, filled with rows of shuffling figures holding hoes. There were thousands of them, humans, satyrs, centaurs, all hacking away at dead stalks, kicking up clouds of dust.

  WELCOME TO ASPHODEL MEADOWS a sign proclaimed. I counted four winged creatures circling overhead that looked an awful lot like the harpy lunch ladies. Every so often, they would fly down, cracking a whip over the heads of the workers.

  I turned in a complete circle. Angie was right. There was no sign of the doors we had arrived through—which meant there was no way to get back to where we’d started.

  “I don’t know.”

  “You don’t know? How are we supposed to get out of here?” Her voice rose with panic.

  “We’ll figure it out like we always do. Damian, where do we find this ferryman?”

  “I’m guessing it’s this way.” He pointed at an unmarked trail that wound through the poppy fields toward the river. “With any luck, Cerberus will be sleeping, and we’ll get the talisman and be gone before Hades even knows we’re there.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “You really think we’re that lucky?”

  He shrugged. “I say the odds are five to one Hades tosses us into Tartar Sauce like a handful of fish sticks.”

  We all laughed a bit too loudly as we set off. I tried to count how many days we had been in this ancient world, but they were jumbled together. A week at least, maybe more. Carl must be so worried. I wondered if Ares was feeding him and taking care of him.

  My jaw tightened. As soon as we had this three-headed mutt handled, the Eye of Zeus would be complete, and we’d be at the gates of Olympus by the end of the day. Then everything would magically get better.

  We trudged single file along the path. The loud music of Elysium faded, replaced by a rumbling that steadily grew louder as we got closer to the river.

  “What’s that noise?” I asked.

  “It’s them.” Damian pointed at the riverbank.

  The bank was lined with green bullfrogs the size of cantaloupes. They turned to watch us and began croaking a chorus that sounded a lot like a funeral march.

  “These are the Souls of the Forgotten,” Macario said. “The ones so low on the Life Ranking scale they don’t get assigned After-Life Duty.”

  The ground was thick with them, forcing us to step carefully. We reached the edge of the river. I accidentally stepped on one, and it leaped out of the way with a startled croak, splashing into the water. Instead of swimming off, it dissolved into a puddle of green sludge until only its eyes floated on the surface.

  I took a healthy step back from the edge. “So now what?”

  “Now we call the ferryman,” Damian said.

  Macario held out his hand. “Give me the coins.” Taking the bag, he gave us each two. “Hide one in your cheek like this.” He tucked a coin in his mouth. “Charon will demand all your money to take you. If he finds it, you won’t get a ride back.”

  We each tucked a small coin in our cheek.

  “Take the other coin and toss it into the water.”

  We lined up on the bank and tossed our coins in the air. They plonked into the water and sank.

  We waited in silence, checking up and downstream.

  Nothing. Zippo. No ferry and no ferryman.

  “How long is this supposed to take?” I asked. The croaking chorus was really getting on my nerves.

  A bubble of air popped, and the water turned frothy. The tip of a wooden pole appeared first, followed by the cloaked head of a man, then his shoulders rising out of the water. He must have been made of Teflon, because no water dripped from his black robe. A moment later, a sturdy raft made of knobby gray sticks lashed together bobbed on the surface.

  “Who insults the ferryman with such a paltry fare?” He rolled the four coins around on his palms.

  “We do,” I said around the coin in my cheek. “Sorry, it’s all the money we have.”

  The ferryman threw his hood back, revealing a thick head of white hair. His brows drew together as he sniffed the air. “Topsiders,” he spat. “You don’t belong here.”

  He began to sink again but I shouted at him. “Hey, we paid you for a ride.”

  His pale blue eyes filled with disdain. “I don’t transport the living, only the dead.”

  “But I signed the paper,” I said. “We have permission to be here.”

  “Did you now?” He scowled but beckoned us forward. “Hurry up then, haven’t got all day. Places to be.”

  We jumped onto the raft, sending it tilting side to side before it steadied. On closer look, I realized the knobby sticks were actually bleached bones. Macario had gathered an armful of poppies along our walk. He sat down, plucking at them and tossing the red petals into the water.

  “So I’m guessing you’re Charon,” I said.

  “No, I’m Hades himself come to greet newcomers.” He poled us into the center of the river, where the current began moving us swiftly downstream. “Of course I’m Charon. No one else would be foolish enough to be rafting about in this water. Where am I taking you?”

  “We need to make a quick stop at Hades’s mansion, and then we’ll be leaving.”

  He laughed, a barking sound that echoed like a rifle shot in the stillness. “That’s what all topsiders say. And then things happen and here they stay.”

  “Things happen—like what?”

  His eyes slid to mine and then away. “There are creatures here who would love to sample the flesh of the living. They say it can restore life in them temporarily. Not sure if it’s true. Very few topsiders are foolish enough to come down here.”

  “Orpheus did,” Damian said. “To rescue Eurydice, the woman he loved.”

  Charon nodded. “Yes, I brought her down this very river. She sobbed the whole way.”

  “Orpheus almost saved her,” Damian explained. “He came here and begged Hades to let her go. Hades was so taken by his story, he let Eurydice go on one condition. Orpheus couldn’t look back at her as she followed him out.”

  “So did this Eurydice make it?” Angie asked.

  Damian shook his head. “At the last second, Orpheus turned around to be certain she was there. He lost her back to the shadows.”

  “Hades does not easily give up what is his,” Charon intoned. “A lesson you should have paid heed to. Here we are.”

  We were so taken by the story, we hadn’t seen the imposing mansion come into view.

  Hades’s crib looked like a legit haunted house. I half expected to hear creepy music playing and see ghosts popping out of the trees. Thick shrubs and tall trees crowded around the two-story brick structure. Iron bars covered the windows—to keep people in or out, I couldn’t be sure. The gabled roof was covered in dark shale. A wrought-iron fence surrounded the house and front lawn.

  The raft bumped against the shore. We jumped off as Charon held the raft in place with his pole.

  “Can you wait here?” I asked. “We won’t be long.”

  He frowned. “You said you signed the release form.”

  “Yes.”

  “Then you’re staying. You waived all righ
ts to leave. You should have read the fine print.” With that, his raft sank down in the water until his head and the tip of his pole disappeared.

  “He didn’t mean that, right, Katzy?” Angie said, spitting her extra coin out into her hand. “We’re going to figure a way out of this dump.”

  “Sure, of course.” Not that I had a clue how to do that, but there was no point in being pessimistic until we knew if we were going to survive against a three-headed dog. “Hey, Damian, you think I can use my powers down here?”

  Damian chuckled in that nervous way of his, which meant he had bad news.

  “What?” I said, facing him, hands on my hips. “Tell me.”

  “It’s funny—did I mention? No—I don’t think I did. The Erinyes—”

  “What about them?”

  He smiled weakly. “I’m not even sure it’s true.”

  “I swear, Damian, if you don’t spill it right now, I’m going to deck you one,” Angie said.

  “Fine. There are some mythologists who suggest Hades is their father. Funny, huh?”

  It was about as funny as finding a wasp’s nest in your gym locker.

  “So they could already be here?” I asked. “Because they, like, live here?”

  He shrugged. “It’s possible. They guard the iron gates of Tartarus when they’re not out seeking retribution.”

  “Lovely,” I fumed. “We walked right into a trap. You should have said something, D. I can’t believe you kept that to yourself.”

  “I’m not a walking encyclopedia, you know,” he said, face flushed. “I saw Hades’s mansion and wondered if he and his wife had kids and bingo—I remembered.”

  I blew out a lungful of air. “Sorry. I’m a little uptight. You’ve been a huge help.”

  We stared at the fence.

  “So, any ideas?” I asked hopefully.

  “I say we put Cerberus to sleep and take a snip of his tail.”

  The voice came from Macario.

  “And how do you propose we do that?” I asked.

  “With these.” He held out a handful of yellow kernels. “The seeds of the poppy can be used to put a person to sleep. We just need to get Cerberus to eat them.”

  CHAPTER 35

  As annoying as Macario could be, the kid jumped up to the top of my list with that idea.

  “Brilliant! What does a three-headed dog like to eat?”

  “Do you have any of your mom’s cookies left?” Angie asked.

  I gripped the satchel slung over my shoulder. “Maybe, why?”

  “They’re delicious, and I’m sure Cerberus will think so too. Come on, hand it over.”

  “Fine.” I dug out the last cookie, unwrapping it from the cloth. It was sprinkled with raisins and nuts and smelled of cinnamon. “Here.” I shoved it at Macario.

  He pressed the poppy seeds into the cookie, smushing it into a tight little ball.

  Angie put two fingers in her mouth and whistled shrilly.

  I grabbed her arm. “Are you crazy?”

  “What? I’m not going in there until beasty is asleep. Here, doggy, doggy,” she called, cupping her hand over her mouth.

  I’m not sure why I was so scared. There was a solid fence separating us from the mansion. We were perfectly safe.

  The deep growl came from behind us.

  We turned, taking in the snarling three-headed beast that stood not ten feet from us. It was a giant mastiff, crimson red except for black masks around its faces. Its trio of heads were square-shaped and massive. Thick strands of saliva hung from its jowls as all three heads growled menacingly at us.

  “Way to go, Angie. Now we’re dog meat.”

  “Go on, sun-brain. Feed it to him,” Angie whispered.

  Macario held the treat out. “Mmm, take a whiff of this. Pure manna from the gods. Who wants it?”

  All three heads scented the air. Macario heaved it, tossing it high. Cerberus launched off its powerful hind legs, jumping higher than our heads. Each head battled, snapping at the other. In the end, the middle head won, lapping the treat into its throat with a satisfied gulp.

  The other two were not happy, growling and snarling at the top dog. It might have been smiling, if dogs could smile, because its top lip curled upward, and there was a glint of satisfaction in its eye. Its bulky red body prowled forward.

  “Uh, Katzy, I think it’s still hungry.”

  “Yeah, Macario, how long does it take for it to work?”

  “How would I know? I’ve never tried this before.”

  “Then we should run,” I said.

  “Where? We can’t exactly swim away,” Damian said.

  “We could go inside the gate,” I said.

  “Bad idea. That’s entering into Hades’s reach,” Macario said.

  “I don’t see any other choice,” I said. “He’s about to pounce on us, and Damian won’t let me use my powers.”

  We were stuck between a man-eating dog with three heads and entering into the clutches of a powerful underworld god.

  If it had been just me, I’d have taken my chances with mutt-face, but I couldn’t guarantee we would all come out in one piece.

  “I say we wear it down,” Damian said. “Can’t be any worse than the one we met in the park. Follow my lead.” He started dancing around, waggling his hands over his head. “Hey, Cerberus, check out these moves.” He clumsily dabbed left, then right, but he underestimated this mutant dog. Cerberus swiveled its three heads toward him, flinging a thick strand of drool at him.

  Macario shouted a warning, but Damian got a faceful of dog spit. He screamed, clutching at his face.

  “Get it off!” He swiped at his cheeks. Angie ripped off the hem of her tunic and wiped off the slobber. It helped a bit. He stopped screaming, but I could see welts on his skin, and worse, his eyes were swelling shut.

  I grabbed his shoulders. “Damian, are you okay?”

  “I can’t see, Phoebes.” His whole body shook. “I’m blind.”

  “It’ll be okay,” I said, trying frantically to think. Cerberus took another step toward us. Time to plant a lightning bolt in that slobber-face. My hand itched with the need.

  Angie swatted my hand. “Don’t make it worse. He’s going to fall asleep.”

  “After he eats us!”

  “I’ve got this,” Macario said, wielding his sunbeam. They weren’t as powerful as my lightning, but the mutt didn’t like the flames. The three heads snarled and snapped, then simultaneously yawned widely.

  The giant mastiff wobbled. Its legs trembled a bit.

  I held my breath. It was working. Cerberus took another step and then, in slow motion, tipped over on its side. The first head hit the ground with a thunk. The second landed on top, and the third plopped next to it, sending up a chorus of loud snores.

  Breathing a sigh of relief, I turned back to Damian. Red blisters marred his skin, and his eyes oozed a yellow fluid. “D, are you okay?”

  He used Angie’s scrap of fabric to tie a bandage around his eyes. “Just do what you need to do. I’ll be fine.”

  Angie stood over the sleeping dog and drew her sword. “So, do I cut the whole tail off?”

  “No, we just need a snip.”

  She moved the sword to the tip. “Here?”

  “Yeah, sure, crud, I can’t think. Just do it.”

  Angie raised the sword over her head and brought it down with a keening sound. The blade bit through the end of the tail, sending the tip sailing through the air. I dove after it, but it flipped through the bars of the gate to land on the grass on the other side.

  This was not good. I reached my arm in, but the mangled tip lay just out of reach, oozing dark blood onto the green grass.

  “Angie, use the sword to scrape it back.”

  She stuck the weapon through, reaching for the bit of flesh. The blade just touched it, but a sleepy-sounding growl had us turning our heads.

  Why was nothing ever easy in this place? Cerberus had managed to get back on his feet, swaying a bit. And he
was angry. Light-the-world-on-fire angry. He craned all three heads to study the stump of his tail, howling so loud we had to clamp our hands over our ears.

  If that didn’t raise the dead, nothing would.

  “Inside the gate, now!” I ordered. “Angie, help Damian.” The hinges groaned as I pushed it open. Macario took Damian’s other arm, and they hurried him toward the gate as Cerberus shook off the last of the poppy effect. He lunged at us, stumbling once, giving us just enough time to get inside. I slammed the gate in its faces.

  It gnashed the iron bars in a frenzy, howling in rage.

  The still-moving snip of tail pulsated on the grass like a worm that had been cut in half. I pulled out the battered Eye of Zeus and held it over it. The tail flickered, trying to crawl away before it shot upward, sticking to the bottom of the mirror, then disappearing into the last opening. A shudder of raw power vibrated up my arm, sending a shock to my heart.

  I let out the breath I’d been holding. I had done it! I had filled the Eye of Zeus. I could save Carl now, and maybe all of Olympus.

  A shadow passed overhead.

  I didn’t even bother to look up. I closed my eyes, clenching my fists in frustration. The Erinyes were like flies on honey—the second they caught my scent, they swarmed all over.

  The fury built in me. It had been days since I’d used my powers, and it was as if the charge had been building. As the Erinyes landed, the bossy Alekto out front, I was ready to explode.

  “There is no use fighting us. Your powers are of little use here,” Alekto said. “Surrender now that your friends might live.” The other two drew their bows, aiming the flaming tips at my head.

  In my hand I held the biggest, fattest, hottest lightning bolt I had ever called upon. It was as thick as a baseball bat and pulsated with power. My left palm itched, and before I knew it, I held two bolts.

  “Yeah, well, first, have a taste of lighting.” I raised my arms to launch them, hoping to take two of them out before they filled me with arrows, but the sound of a sharp whistle stopped my arm.

  “Daughters, cease this,” a voice boomed. “Let us welcome our guests properly.”