Thanatos

by Carmen Kern

  Hades stared at the witch. “You got here through his tower?”

  “Yeah. Maybe you can buy me a beer and we can catch you up on a few things.”

  Persephone looked around. “Hec, where’s Bob?”

  Hades turned to his wife. “You brought Bob?”

  Hecate shrugged. “He’s fine. He sprained his ankle and has a hell of a wolf bite. He told me to go help you, so I did.”

  Arle called out again, this time from the same side of the bridge as Hades. “You need some help over there?”

  Kirkus loped across the bridge in long, smooth strides and stopped beside Arle. Drawing up to full height, the Egyptian Anubis grinned, tongue lolling over his pink gums. “Can I lend a paw?”

  Hades glanced down at the god of death laid out on a slab. “Do you have a vehicle we can use?”

  Arle sauntered up to the group, his ax slung over his shoulder. “I think I can find something. You sure he’s down for the count?” Arle jabbed his ax blade into Thanatos’s shoulder.

  “Those shackles will hold,” Hades said. “Our weapons maker forged them. Nothing is breaking through.”

  “Good enough for me.” Arle held out his wooden hand to Hecate. “I’m Arle. What’s this about not blowing up the tower?”

  “Hecate.” The witch pumped Arle’s stiff hand. “If you’ve got somewhere we can go to get a drink and some first-aid supplies, I’ll fill you in.”

  “I think we can help you with both,” Arle said, and then turned toward Bob, who waved at them from the other side of the bridge. “Looks like your other man could use a stitch or two.”

  Bob sat on the hood of a cobbled-together muscle car, the back end smashed flat by a falling shop sign. He nodded to the others. He grimaced and pressed a ripped and bloody rag against his shoulder. Ferret twitched his whiskers nervously, his small hand resting on Bob’s thigh.

  Hades noticed a long gash on Kirkus’s side. “Looks like you could use some stitches yourself.”

  “A drink sounds better,” Kirkus said. “I’ll find us something to move Thanatos. Then we drink.”

  Hades nodded and put his arm around Persephone. “See what happens when I leave the Underworld?” he whispered in her ear.

  Arle whistled. The high piercing yip caught the attention of a few of his men. He waved them over and yelled for them to find a working vehicle. Turning around to face the others, he said, “I’ll take you to Reshawna. My men can take care of Thanatos. Kirkus, come with us.”

  Slowly, the group made their way through the ruined city streets and what almost looked like a two-dimensional town made of paper and cardboard and props, blown down by a mighty gust, with nothing behind them but the dark-purple skies of night. The stars had gone dark.

  None of them noticed.

  TWENTY-NINE

  A small group gathered in the lobby of Corvus Tower. Hecate stitched up Bob’s shoulder with deft hands. “You might want to get Apollo to smooth this out when we get back. I don’t have his touch,” she said, taping up the last of the bandages Reshawna, had supplied.

  Three large jugs of what could only be compared to grain alcohol were passed around from one being to the next, some holding on a little longer, drinking a little deeper.

  The others told Hades of Phobetor’s deal, how he’d helped them get into this world, and of Helle’s death and the growing number of deadless in the streets of Vancouver. It was a strangely detached reciting of details, a bullet point list of events passed along with the jugs of alcohol.

  Persephone leaned over to pass Hades an almost-empty container, and the hound’s tooth necklace dangled, freed from the folds of her jacket.

  “I lost mine, you know?” Hades cupped the dangling tooth in his palm.

  Persephone fished in her pocket and pulled out the matching necklace. “I found it.”

  “How?” He took it from her outstretched hand.

  “Ferret had it. No idea how or where he got it, but he had it.”

  Hades flattened himself against the wall, making room for rebels carrying the injured into the makeshift field hospital they’d set up in the lobby. “We’ll have to tell all of this again, you know. My brothers…the rest of them need to know everything.”

  “Buzzkill.” Persephone sighed. She looked around the large room, which was now full of injured beings and those who were tending to them. “Do they need help here? Should we stay?”

  “No need,” Arle said, walking up to them, a stitched-up Kirkus at his side. “From what you’ve already told me, you’ve got your own troubles up there.” Arle pointed his slender wood finger to the sky. “You don’t need to take on ours. We knew there would be casualties. We prepared for this as much as we could, and now we’ll deal with the aftermath.” He paused. “But there is one thing you might help with. We can’t find the volumes of Thanatos’s comics or his drawing journals. There’s no sign of them. Until we find our stories, we can’t change them. We don’t have our ever-after.”

  “They wouldn’t be out in the open—” Hades started.

  “But they were,” Arle interrupted. “Reshawna said they were displayed all around his office, like trophies. But those shelves are bare.” He took a rag from his pocket and polished his eyeball, wiping a dirt streak from the marble. “We’ll keep looking, of course.”

  “Is there a way we can stay in touch with them in here?” Hades asked Persephone.

  “None of our technology worked. We saw everything through Ferret’s eyes or by Rad following your dreams.”

  Hades turned back to Arle and Kirkus. “Thanatos knows where his books are. I’ll carve it out of him when we get back to the Underworld.” He scratched at his itchy beard. “What if we leave Ferret behind?” Hades suggested. “Kay Te could keep an eye on things and let us know if they need anything here. At least until things settle down.”

  Persephone nodded. “That could work. She’s probably watching us right now.” Persephone’s eyes scanned the crowded room for Ferret and found him sitting beside Bob. “I’ll see what she thinks.” Ash fell from her hair as she made her way across the lobby toward Ferret.

  Arle turned stiffly to Hades. “So, this is it. You save us and then leave us.” His mouth slid up on one side in a strange smile. “At least we get to keep your pet.” The wooden man thrust his hand out.

  “I don’t suppose you’ll come back for a visit?” Kirkus snarled. “I could arrange the palm trees and cocktails.”

  Hades clasped Arle’s outstretched hand and held it firm. He looked both of his friends in the eyes. “I’m not the sentimental type. At least, that’s what my wife tells me. But…thank you. I’m not sure I’d be here without you or your people. I’ll find out where Thanatos has your books. And when I do, I’ll bring them to you, personally. Your stories belong to you. Once you have them back, you can write your own ending. And when you decide to show up at my obsidian gates, I’ll throw you a helluva party. You’ve got my word on that.”

  “That’s the best offer I’ve ever had.” The wooden man beamed and squeezed the god’s hand tighter.

  A voice shouted from across the room. “Arle, do we have more bandages?”

  Hades dropped Arle’s wooden hand. “Go. I’ll come get you when we’re ready to leave.”

  “You better.” Arle studied the god for a moment. “You’re more of a sentimentalist than your wife gives you credit for. Just don’t tell her I said so.”

  Hades watched the wooden man walk away in stilted, yet graceful strides.

  “The Underworld sounds like heaven,” Kirkus said to Hades.

  “I guess it is. And you’ve got a standing invitation.” Hades shook Kirkus’s outstretched paw. The pads on the bottom were rough against his skin.

  Kirkus showed his fangs and turned to leave, grabbing a spare gun leaning against the staircase. “I’ll see you around,” he called out over his shoulder and cut his way through the stream of beings coming and going through the front doors.


  “I have a funny feeling you’re right,” Hades mumbled. And in the middle of the wounded, the lost, and frightened beings of this world, he suddenly didn’t feel in a hurry to go home.

  Bob was the first one into the swinging elevator car. “You think this will hold all of us?” he asked.

  “Are you volunteering to wait for another one to come while we go on ahead?” Persephone grinned at him.

  Bob took Hecate’s hand and steadied her once she was inside. “You know all those scary movies when people are hunted by the supernatural monsters, and they split up and you yell at the TV because every damn time they do that, someone gets picked off?” He walked to the edge of the elevator car and looked down. “Let’s not be those people. If we go down in the dark abyss below, we do it together.”

  Hecate moved to the back corner of the cage. “I second that. We’re all immortal here anyway.” She looked at Bob. “Well, mostly.”

  Bob shot her a dirty look. “Thanks for that.”

  Persephone got in next, straddling the narrow space between platform and elevator car. Hades grabbed onto the iron bars and held the car steady.

  There wasn’t room to lay Thanatos down, so they had strapped him to a piece of plywood and secured him to a furniture dolly Arle provided.

  Reshawna checked Thanatos’s pulse before they wheeled him into the elevator.

  “I shot him up with enough tranquilizers to bring down a herd of elephants and all of their cousins.” She looked up at Hades and tucked a lock of red hair behind her ear. “I’ve got no idea what that means for an immortal, but it should keep him subdued while you transport him.”

  Hades got down on a knee and gathered the dwarf woman into a bear hug. “Thank you,” he said, and she hugged him back.

  “You’re welcome.” She looked past his broad shoulder to Persephone and released Hades. “Now you better git before rumors start flying about the two of us.”

  Hades laughed, glancing behind his shoulder. “I already told her about my other woman,” he said and stood.

  Persephone smiled at Reshawna. “I can’t thank you enough for patching him up and getting him back to me in one piece.”

  Reshawna blushed scarlet streaks across her pale cheeks. She nodded to the goddess of spring and stepped back beside Arle’s tall figure.

  “Hold up!” Kirkus’s voice called out from Thanatos’s suite. His sleek black body emerged from inside the torn-apart office. Holding out his paw, he strode to the elevator. “Look what I found. At least I—”

  Hades took the cigarette from Kirkus and stared at it like a long-lost friend. “I can’t believe it,” he said and abruptly threw his arm over Kirkus’s shoulder. “You, my friend, have just earned a prime location in the realm of Elysium…when you’re ready for it, of course.” Hades wiped the end of the cigarette on his jacket and placed it between his lips. The orange end brightened as the god inhaled.

  “Glad to be of service,” Kirkus said.

  Hades took another long look at this strange group of characters that had risked everything to help him.

  “We need to go,” Persephone’s soft voice called to Hades.

  Hades nodded to them all and turned to Thanatos, bound, still, and staring out from unblinking eyes. He wheeled the dolly into the elevator, and with the help of Arle, they parked the god next to Bob.

  “Can you turn him around so he’s not staring at me?” Bob asked.

  They spun the dolly.

  Hades clasped Arle’s hand once more before getting into the elevator. There was a small commotion from down the hall as Ferret scurried around the beings coming and going from Thanatos’s office to stand beside Kirkus. Ferret chirped, his large eyes staring at Bob.

  “See you soon, buddy,” Bob said to Ferret.

  Once they were loaded, Persephone used her key to open the panel. The cage groaned and creaked and started an upward climb. The door closed as they moved away from the platform.

  None of them spoke for a while.

  Bob held out his hands, forming a globe of light so they could see. The only other light was the orange glow of Hades’s cigarette.

  They hadn’t gone far when they heard shouting and a piercing scream from below. They looked at each other but said nothing. The noise echoed. The eerie noise bouncing from every direction, going on and on as if it would never die out. But eventually, it did.

  Bob, tired of the silence, asked, “So what’s the deal when we get topside? Or should I not ask?”

  They spent the rest of the journey speculating, brainstorming for the faceoff with the other Olympians and wondering about the world they had just left. And soon enough, they heard the grinding of gears and pulleys as the cage came to rest outside the doors that opened into the drainage shaft of the Overworld.

  Bob climbed out first. “I’ll get Rad and some ropes to haul up Thanatos. Be right back.” He jumped out and quickly scaled the ladder to the alley above.

  Hecate hopped out of the elevator. “I’ll make sure there’s no one in the alley.” She paused and pointed at Hades. “When we get to the Underworld, we’re going to the Sword ’n’ Crown, and the drinks are on you.”

  “It’s the least I can do.” He puffed on his cigarette. “And then we go back to hating each other?”

  Hecate spun around, her torn jacket swinging with her. “That depends on how many drinks you’re buying,” she called over her shoulder as she climbed.

  “Can I just stand here another minute?” Hades asked, tightening his arm around Persephone.

  “That’s about all you’ll have.” She took the cigarette from his lips and kissed him.

  “I can’t believe I’m here…that you’re here. Has it been a year since I’ve held you?”

  “It was long enough that you found yourself a girlfriend.” Persephone grinned.

  “You’re jealous?” Hades spun her in front of him, pulling her into his body.

  Luther, Hades’s right-hand man in the Underworld, poked his head over the lip of the manhole. “Hades!” His voice flew down the cement shaft.

  “And there goes the moment,” Persephone whispered.

  Hades kissed her, soft as a whispered promise. “Let’s get this over with and go home.”

  “Home.” The word tasted different when she said it now. Sweeter, not like honey, but more like ripe fruit that still tangs with an underlying sourness.

  Luther skipped the last few rungs and landed with a thunk at the bottom of the shaft. “You brought me a present,” he said, staring at Thanatos gagged and tied to a furniture dolly. “And I just finished telling the djinn that you never buy me anything.”

  Hades grinned. “I was going to get you a T-shirt, but then I decided on him.”

  “The best present ever,” Luther said. “It’s good to see you both in one piece.” Luther offered his hand to help Persephone out of the unsteady elevator cage. “Heph thought you might need a hand with Thanatos, so here I am.” He released his queen’s hand. “Sorry to be the barer of shit news, but Zeus and the others are waiting at the underground subway. He sent his car to get us.”

  Persephone moved away from the elevator to make room. “Is it wrong that I’d rather be in Thanatos’s world than face our family?”

  Hades wheeled the dolly to the edge of the elevator. “No. But the sooner we get this over with—”

  “The sooner we can go home,” Persephone finished for him.

  Luther helped lift the cart onto solid ground. “I vote that we skip the Overworld hunt this year. I think I’ve had my fill.”

  “That’s the best idea you’ve had since Fight Night,” Hades said and leaped out of the elevator.

  Bob’s face appeared over the lip of the manhole. “We don’t need the ropes.”

  The three stood at the bottom of the shaft and looked up. Light streamed down on them. A golden warmth filled the space.

  “Apollo,” Persephone said.

  “At least one o
f us is jacked up on power.” Hades stood back as Thanatos floated forward and up the center of the pipe until he was out of sight.

  The three of them climbed out from beneath the street and into an unusually warm fall day in Vancouver. Kay Te ran to Hades as soon as she saw him, bowling into him hard enough to make him stumble. She hung on to him, her hair turning multiple shades of purple and pink. “You’re back.”

  Hades hugged her and patted her back. “You made sure of it.”

  The gods, a muse, a djinn, a dead man, and a demigod named Bob stood in the alleyway, unseen by passersby, talking with a flurry of voices and hand gestures, hugging and grinning tired grins as they waited for Zeus’s limo.

  They tried not to think about an unhinged Overworld with its loose nails, falling plaster, and failing beams as one country after another toppled under the hammer of homelessness and economic disaster, all thanks to an absent god of death. And for a few minutes, they succeeded.

  A midnight-colored luxury van pulled up at the end of the alley and stopped. They saw only a faceless silhouette of the driver behind shaded glass.

  “Classy,” Rad said, looking at the large chrome grille. “But I think I’ll catch my own ride home.” He turned to leave, and as an afterthought, he said, “I’d like to say it was fun, but…” He waved as he walked away.

  Persephone jogged over to the djinn and caught his arm. “Hey. You’re a pain in the ass…but I’m glad you stayed to help.”

  Rad looked down at her hand, up the line of her arm to her face. He grinned as he leaned closer. “Likewise. The pain-in-the-ass part. But I’d be extremely happy if you didn’t call me or come into my bar again.” His eyes flashed purple.

  Persephone glanced around at the witch goddess. “I can’t promise not to call you, but what if I send Hecate to check up on you and the restructuring of your bar employees?”

  Rad graced her with a crooked smile. “That might just make up for the hell you put me through.”

  “Well, then, I guess this is goodbye,” Persephone said, releasing the djinn’s tatted arm.

  “I hope you mean it, my queen.” Rad bowed and walked away, around the corner of the hotel, and down the street.