“Here,” Hecate said, throwing off her cloak. She handed me a talisman of sorts and indicated that I should put it around my neck. “You may need that.”
“For what?”
“The souls are drawn to you,” she said, eyeing my dead brothers. “We cannot have them interfering in the middle of this. No matter what they see.” Images of the souls entering me came into my mind. I had little doubt it had been a gruesome sight to behold. “I will work on shoring up the veils, but I need to test them before we can return anyone to the Oudeis. I fear that if you collect them and we fail, they will not be so easy to collect again, and we do not have time for that.”
She stood before the place where the veil should have been and began chanting as she had the night she, Persephone, and I had let the inhabitants out. Her eyes squinted with concentration, and I could feel the pull of the magic she’d used that night around me. My brothers shifted uncomfortably, their unease with the situation plain.
As Hecate worked, the iridescent barrier began to reappear, though it looked to be taxing her greatly. The translucent border grew more opaque by the moment, and the fear I felt subsided, if only slightly. As long as Oz had succeeded and Phobos had not arrived, all would be well. Hades could at least return to his realm.
Everything else could be settled after that.
“All right,” she said on a hard exhale, “it is done—I think.”
“Then let us test it,” I said.
She gave a grim nod. “Your fallen brothers trust you, do they not?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“Good. We will need their help to ensure that the veil will hold.” She looked at them, then returned her grey stare to me. “Take them in as you would the fallen of the Oudeis. If you can release them in there and the barrier holds without my aid, then it should be safe for your father to return.”
“And if it does not?” I asked.
Her expression fell. “Then we have a problem.”
I turned to my brothers, who appeared so different than the damned of the Oudeis. They looked as they had in life, if a little ghostly. The others had been sentient shadows. For a moment, I doubted if I could do what she had asked of me.
“Khara!” she shouted, breaking me from my thoughts. “We do not have time to waste, you said as much yourself.”
“Yes,” I said, turning to Cass and the others. “For Hades.”
“For Hades,” they all cried in unison.
With a deep inhale, I channeled the night I’d swallowed the occupants of the Oudeis down into the chasm I harbored. Eyes closed and concentrating hard, I felt the vacuum within open and draw their souls to me. I gagged as they entered, their essences far more solid and real than the others had been. My eyes bulged and my throat strained against their assault, but I continued until every last one of them was tucked away deep within my void.
“Well done,” she said, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Let us hope my efforts are equally successful.” She stepped closer to the veil and indicated for me to follow. “Step through this just as you would into the Elysian Fields and release them.”
“And how will you let them out?” I asked, eyes narrowing with doubt.
“The veil cannot hold you in there because you do not belong. As long as the Oudeis does not cast you out of its own volition, you should have time to collect them and walk back through without consequence.”
“Should…?” I asked.
She shrugged. “This is far from an exact science, Khara. I cannot be certain of anything, any more than you can.”
She was right and I knew it. “If they are lost in there forever, I will make you pay, is that understood?”
Her expression darkened. “Yes, Princess.”
With nothing left to say, I stepped through the veil, the thick and slippery feel of it far different than that of the Elysian Fields. It felt wrong in every way, which made sense given what it was meant to imprison: evil that could not be allowed to escape again.
It took a moment to trigger the release of my brothers, given that I did not have the magic of the Underworld to do it for me this time. I fell to my knees in the dark abyss of the Oudeis and spewed them forth until I could barely breathe. Once done, I lay there for a moment, doing all I could to recover.
Cass helped me to my feet while some of the others tried to force their way past the veil. It held strong, just as we had hoped. I walked over to join them and pressed my hand against the rubbery surface.
It did not budge.
Through the hazy barrier, I could see Hecate’s eyes beam with delight. From the other side of the veil, she raised her arms and began chanting, her words a melodious call to the dead. I could feel the pull somewhere deep inside me, even though life still coursed through my veins. The dead did not stand a chance against her, especially in Hades’ absence.
“You should really thank me for this,” she said, pressing her face against the translucent divide. “If Phobos had gotten his hands on you like I promised him…” She winced at the thought as though she cared at all what happened to me—what fate would have befallen me if she’d handed me over Deimos’ depraved sibling. “I couldn’t let him have someone with your power, Khara. Now he’ll never have you. None of them will.”
My brothers pounded against the filmy barricade as though their anger alone could break through it. Hecate laughed at them, then walked away, leaving us all to the nothingness of the Oudeis. I wondered if I would slowly perish there without food or water, or if I would just exist in perpetual agony. Neither seemed particularly pleasant, though equally plausible.
“What do we do?’ Thomas asked, coming to stand before me.
A cackle of laughter came from behind my dead brothers. They parted just enough for me to see Artemis standing there, smiling wickedly.
“You do nothing but rot away in here until you’re a ghost of the being you once were,” she said, her smile fading to a sneer. “She manipulated you expertly—your father would be ashamed.”
“Hades—”
“Not him. Ares.” Silence pressed down upon us until she spoke again. “You think the souls in the Oudeis know nothing of the outside?” she asked. “We know of the PC—of Ares’ band of warriors. If they are your brothers, then he is your father.” I opened my mouth to respond, but she shut me down with her words. “Did you not know of Hecate’s relationship with Hermes?” My silence was answer enough. Her amusement at my ignorance rang out through the desolate field. “How unfortunate for you, then.”
“Why is she here?” Cass asked, his fierce eyes pinned on the former goddess.
“Because I separated her soul from her body,” I said, walking through the divide in the crowd. “I stole it from her when she attacked Hades.”
Her expression soured. “A convenient trick for an inferior warrior.”
“Tell me Hecate’s plan,” I said, stopping before her.
“She was to overtake the Underworld and let us out. That was the agreement.”
“To allow you to roam above?” I asked, incredulity thick in my tone.
“Yes. Once the king and queen were dead, as well as the princess,” she explained, narrowing her sharp gaze at me, “Hermes would return her to the Underworld to rule with him at her side, and we would remain above.”
“And Zeus?” I pressed. “How did he fit into that equation?”
She smiled yet again. “He didn’t, so thank you for taking care of that loose end on our collective behalf.”
“I will take out anyone who threatens my father—”
“You mean Hades,” she corrected, leaning closer, “and I’m afraid not even you could eliminate the threat stalking you and those you love. Phobos is an entirely different beast altogether.”
“If he can bleed, he can die.”
“Then you, Princess, might be in trouble.”
Her words settled hard on my mind until Cass pulled me from my spiraling thoughts.
“Khara, does anyone know you’re he
re?” he asked. “Will they be coming for you?”
I nodded. “Yes, our brothers and Oz. Aery too. Possibly Deimos, if Aery was successful in tracking him down. But I am not so certain that it will matter. I suspect Hecate will soon have control over the horde of souls remaining now that I am entombed here. Oz alone cannot destroy an army of that size. Even with Deimos at his side—an unlikely possibility at best—I am not certain they would succeed. And Aery…I do not know if she is strong enough to turn the tide.”
“What of Hades?” another asked, a brother whose name I did not know.
“He is without power—and possibly dead, if Phobos has succeeded.” I could feel my face scrunch with disgust as I looked at Artemis. “Hecate deceived me—her plan was quite masterful, really.”
“So you’re just giving up?” Thomas asked. The disbelief in his young eyes was plain and piercing, and it pulled me from the depths of resignation I had plummeted to.
“I did not say that,” I replied. I straightened my back to address them. “I am the Princess of the Underworld and a dark force all my own. What Hecate does not know—could not know—is that when my father left and chaos broke out everywhere, the Underworld turned to me. Called to me. All but begged me to rule it. And it will abide me now if it wishes to exist still, because I will not lose those I care about to Hecate’s and Phobos’ plan.”
The pained expressions of those around me slowly warmed to vindictive smiles.
“So,” Cass started, “what do you need from us?”
“I need an army, dear brother. One to rival Hecate’s.”
Their smiles widened still. “Then you shall have it.”
“Yeah—get us the fuck out of here and we’re yours,” Thomas echoed.
My expression soon mimicked theirs. “With pleasure.” I turned to Artemis, whose confidence in the situation was waning by the moment. “But first, I must deal with this one.”
She backed away from me, but her retreat was in vain. The moment I called her soul to me, it came without delay. Her tortured screams were swallowed as she slid down my throat into the nothingness I harbored inside. There she would stay until the Underworld had been restored—or until I had to cross the Acheron.
Without hesitation, I walked toward the veil and pressed my palm against it. The current of power that held it in place seemed to hesitate, as if my presence gave it pause. As if I were interrupting its flow.
“You recognize me,” I said to it. The thrum of energy coiled beneath my hand as if responding to the question. “I am the Princess of the Underworld—the one who reigns in my father’s absence. A traitor has imprisoned me here. She who shepherds the dead seeks to confine me here unjustly.” A crackle of power shocked me, and I pulled my hand away for a moment. The Underworld itself seemed to be warring with Hecate’s magic. I placed my hand against the barrier again and pushed harder, channeling the same magic she had used the night she freed the souls of the Oudeis. “You will release me now,” I said with every bit of power and confidence my father had once emanated. “And you will release my brothers too.”
With another surge of energy and magic, I felt the veil start to give way. I searched deep within me for the feeling I had experienced when I returned to the Underworld to find souls loose in the Great Hall—the way I had screamed, causing the Underworld to take notice. The way it had not wanted me to leave once the veils fell. The way it had let me cross the Acheron when I demanded it.
The Underworld and I were connected, just as my father and it had once been.
I prayed that connection was enough.
“Release us now!” I shouted.
The pliable veil turned to glass and shattered, raining shards down around us. I broke through the opening, my brothers at my back and flanking me as we rushed through the Underworld in search of the one who had imprisoned us. It did not take long to find her and her dead minions. They were embroiled in battle on the banks of the Acheron.
My heart plummeted at the sight of black wings surrounded by snarling souls, the shadowy whispers snapping their teeth at Oz.
“Take out whatever you can,” I said to the army following me into battle, “but Hecate is mine.”
With a crash, we descended upon the horde, forcing our way through. With wings extended, I thought of Oz—of the night he had slashed his way through the souls that turned against us. Of the Stealer who had tainted my wings until I released that tarnish upon Oz. I would need that darkness to defeat Hecate’s army.
Thankfully, I still held Artemis’ soul inside me. The darkness was mine to wield.
With a slice, I cut my way through the ghostly entities, being careful not to dispatch any of my brothers in the process. Once they saw what I was capable of, they gave me a much wider berth.
“Oz!” I shouted, making my way toward him. I caught his gaze over the mob and saw the fear of God in his eyes. Then that fear gave way to amusement.
“You really know how to make a fucking entrance, new girl,” he said as I reached his side. Casey and Kierson were with him, using Deimos’ weapons to slice through the attacking souls.
“Where is my father?” I asked.
“Safer than you, apparently.” Oz shot me a smile. “Maybe you should focus on these assholes first and ask questions later.” He carved his wing through a soul above me. Had I not ducked, the hair knotted atop my head would no longer have existed.
I shot him a look that promised pain, and he laughed. “Later for that, new girl. Later.”
I could see Hecate in the distance, her concern at having underestimated me worrying her brow. I wondered if I had the power to crease it even further.
With a deep breath, I let loose a scream that outperformed the one I had when I’d first returned to the Underworld. The one that had halted the loose souls without a thought. The one that had signaled the initiation of my connection to the dead.
Kierson’s death cry.
Just as before, the souls stopped, turning their wispy forms to me as if awaiting a directive. I pinned narrowed eyes on them before speaking.
“Stand down and back away.”
The shadows collectively turned toward Hecate as if awaiting her rebuttal. It was then that I realized they were torn between the two of us. The princess of the Underworld versus the mistress of the dead.
“Kill her!” Hecate shouted, her anger with their insubordination plain.
“No!” I countered before they could move. “You will collect Hecate and bring her to me now, or you will meet ultimate death by my hand. Choose your fate wisely. Forgiveness may be found for those that comply. Those that do not will meet the tip of my wing.”
That was all the warning necessary for them to act. Within seconds, a howling Hecate was dragged toward me, my army of dead brothers parting to let them through. When they forced her to her knees at my feet, her eyes darted to Casey.
I observed the two of them as they stared one another down.
Casey hadn’t known his mother, a fact that I knew haunted him, but not for the reasons the sentiment normally would have implied. His personality had been shaped by his abandonment, making him the cold, calculated killer I knew him to be. He had Hecate to thank for that. But there was something inside him that remained unsettled by the loss of his birthright; it bred jealousy of those that could dwell freely in the Underworld, and I was not exempt. He deserved the opportunity to face the demon that tormented him.
“I know you,” she said softly, though her expression was anything but. “I would know you anywhere.” The tight features of her face were accentuated by the firelight dancing off the cavernous walls around us, creating harsh angles.
“As you should, Mother,” Casey replied. As he so often did, he began rhythmically wiping his blade across the weathered leather of his pants.
“Why are you here?” she asked him, turning her hateful stare to me.
“To help my sister.”
“You claim this abomination as your blood?”
He step
ped closer, looming above her as the black cloud of dead held her firmly to the ground.
“Do you claim me?” There was warning in his tone, as though her answer had bearing on whether she would live or die.
“You are my son. The blood in your veins is mine. Death blood.” She hazarded a glance at the souls holding her. “Together we could control them,” Hecate said, turning eyes that hungered for power back to her son. “You are a true child of the Underworld. She is an imposter. She doesn’t belong here; she never has. Hades has always had a weakness for those he loves. But beings like you and me, we are not afflicted with such emotional sentiment.”
Casey cocked his head curiously, looking at Hecate as though she’d said something most intriguing.
“Could we?” he asked. The usual mocking in his tone was absent as he spoke. “Could we rule?”
“Casey…” Kierson cautioned.
“Yes,” Hecate replied frantically, pulling hard against her ghostly restraints. “You call to the dead as I do, my son. Together we could overtake the Underworld. Overtake her.”
“Would I answer to you?”
His question was a thinly veiled challenge.
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “You would not answer to anyone. Never again.” Casey paused, still hovering over his mother. The wiping of his blade ceased. “I know that you are only one of many in the Patronus Ceteri. You will never be more than that above. But here—here you would be a king. A ruler. Someone to fear and respect. We were not born to be servants, my child. We were fated for something much greater. Far grander.”
“And yet you delivered me without thought to the very life you now claim I was never meant to have,” he said, his voice low and threatening. “You abandoned me…”
“I needed you to be trained. I could not do that here, now could I?” she argued. “I couldn’t train you to overthrow the Soul Keeper right under his nose. No, you needed your father’s mentoring.”
Casey scoffed. “Is that what you call it? Mentoring?”
Unspoken (Unborn Book 3) Page 20