Chapter 4
Down the Rabbit Hole
1
The Catacombs
“Just a little bit longer, Miranda,” Clio said. Her daughter had fallen far behind.
“Do you hear yourself?” Crow said as he assisted his grandmother. “You’re pushing a seventy-six year old woman who just got out of the hospital to hike through half the catacombs in
Clio stared straight ahead, focusing on Iris and Apollo’s blue light.
Crow continued, “I may not be who you thought I was, but you aren’t who I thought you were either.”
Clio continued to ignore him.
“Are you listening to me, Great-Grandmother?”
Clio whirled around and slapped him soundly. Crow held a hand to his hot cheek.
“Please don’t fight,” Miranda said weakly.
“Grandma, please, you need to rest, we’ll catch up later,” Crow said.
“People have died getting lost down here,” Clio argued.
“And people are going to die from walking around down here,” he said pointedly.
Clio sighed, he was right, gauging from Miranda’s wan appearance, she was feeling worse than she was letting on. “Fine. You win, Crow.” Her hands cupped around her mouth and she called ahead, “We need to stop, Miranda can’t take much more!”
Mel relayed the message to the three in front, as
Clio sat Miranda down and gave her some water. Apollo hurried to the older woman’s side and checked her pulse. His slim hand moved across Miranda's cheeks and forehead.
“Have you been experiencing any chest pain?” Apollo asked.
“Oh god,” Clio said.
“Don’t worry, we’ll get Calliope back.” Miranda said.
“I’m worried about you, too, you know,” she told her aged daughter, tears pricking up behind her eyes.
“I know.” Miranda wiped the dust from her palms onto her khakis.
“Maybe you should rest or do whatever Apollo tells you, okay?” Clio’s gaze skipped around Crow’s glare. She slipped into the quiet comfort of the shadows and leaned against a crumbling wall, wiping at her eyes.
“No worries, pet, she’s a tough old bird.”
“Yeah, I guess,” she said.
Ares lifted his face to the ceiling and sighed, putting an arm between her and the wall and drew her in.
Clio inhaled his scent of bourbon and fireplace. She studied his profile, what little she could see in this dark part of the catacomb, far behind the lights the others were carrying.
“You must think me weak,” she said in a small voice.
“What do you care what I think?” Ares asked in neat honesty.
“I’m not sure if I do,” she whispered, suddenly aware of how close his face was to hers.
He closed his eyes tight and held his breath, oblivious that she could see him.
She lifted her fingers to his sculpted cheekbone and lightly traced the indention.
Ares didn’t move, but opened his wondering blues to take her in. His arms were still around her waist and he made no move to remove them. His body heat wrapped itself about her like a sand devil, making her cheeks flush with warmth.
Light suddenly danced across them and he pushed her away, guilt exploding across his face. He lit a Lucky and walked away from her.
Clio looked into the light, trying to make out the person behind it and found Iris.
“We think she’s ready to go, Clio,” she said and added, “are you alright?” Her voice was full of concern.
“I’m fine, let’s get going, then, hmm?” Her confusion must have been drawn on her face with permanent marker the way Iris cocked her head at her.
“It’s only a little farther, maybe only an hour or more.” Iris said, paused for a moment and came back, “Maybe it’s not my place, but-”
“You’re right, maybe it’s not your place.” Clio stated and walked away to help her daughter.
Clio went to Miranda and checked her over. “Miranda, if you’re not ready, we can wait.”
“I’m okay,” she breathed, she had regained some of her color. “I’m sorry if I worried you.”
“Don’t overdo it, we’ll get there when we get there.” Clio tried to look like a concerned mother, but knew she was clearly out of practice.
Quieter than usual, the group resumed their journey, feeling the burden of the task and world that lay before them.
Apollo approached Clio where she walked with Miranda and the stone-faced Crow. “I need to talk to you,” he said.
“Why? I didn’t ask for your help,” Clio replied and folded her arms across her chest as she cast him a dubious glance.
Taking her by her elbow, he led her to the back of the group. “What the hell happened?” He asked.
Her gaze jerked up at the Sun God in response to his question, she narrowed her eyes, and jutted her chin out stubbornly.
“Clio?” He asked, this time demanding a response.
“Didn’t you get debriefed by Mel already since you’re such fabulous phone buddies? You know the facts!”
“No, I know the facts, but what the hell happened? Why didn’t she know the risks? How could you have fucked things up so royally that she wasn’t even aware that he was stealing blood from her?”
All that answered him was her shallow breathing, coming in small little gasps. “How dare you?”
He cocked his head at her reply.
“How dare you come here after you – you abandoned us to the world and accuse me of doing a piss poor detective job! There were circumstances beyond my control, Apollo! And if you think you could have done a better job then you shouldn’t have left us!” Clio struggled against her emotions, trying hard for him not to see her cry.
“Circumstances that were beyond your control? Clio, you shot her.”
That was it. A great dam had burst and Clio launched herself at the handsome blonde god. Pounding on his chest with all her might, he caught hold of her flailing fists, and she tore them from his grip. She took the opportunity to throw a punch into his surprised mouth and he slapped her hard enough to bring her back to her senses.
There was a distinct click behind his ear. “I would not be the one doin’ that, if I were you, mate.”
“I thought Mel had your Glock,” Apollo said carefully. “I thought we had a truce.” He cast a weary eye on the war god.
“Not when you go around smackin’ the historian about, we don’t, and if you think I carry only one gun, you are a true blonde.” Ares stayed where he stood, with the 9mm to the back of Apollo’s head.
Clio held a hand tight to her cheek and straightened up. Her lips curled with undisguised disgust, “Don’t you ever question my authority or actions again, Apollo. You forsook us. You have no jurisdiction with us any more. Don’t you understand that?” Storming away, she suddenly stopped, whirled around, and came back at him. “All of your indiscretions, all of your dalliances, leaving my sister home nights, wondering where you had gone, only to discover you rutting with some fucking nymph or mortal! You not only left us, but you left Calliope in a period of grief for her son, your son! You left her there with this babbling, mad head that was your beautiful Orpheus, and even if Calliope does, I will never forgive you for that.”
Her teeth clenched, her finger pointing, her eyes full of tears, she hissed into his face, “Never.” She thundered away from him, leaving him to Ares.
“You’re such a bleedin’ ponce, Apollo,” he said and holstered the sister Glock.
2
The Villa
Bliss struggled against the bonds that held her slight frame to the bed.
She had been awake for a half-hour, and still there was no sign of
“
Her handcuffs were police-issue and tight, no slipping her tiny hands through. If she were properly motivated she could break the cherry bed, but it would probably break her wrists, so she bided her time.
“
“If you were in my place, if you were training your own fledgling and they completely disregarded what you were teaching them, what, Bliss, would you do?” She couldn’t find where the voice was coming from.
“Give them a second chance?” Bliss had never heard
“Like the second chance you gave those kids last night? Should I give you that second chance?” From the far shadows of the room,
“How did you do that?” She asked, trying to change the subject.
“How could I teach you something that complicated when you are too stupid to understand something as simple as not killing?”
“Not killing is unnatural for things like us, Trent, you have to know that.”
“Ah, are you the teacher tonight, Bliss Sheridan?”
Her body tensed at the use of her last name. His gaze turned dark and ugly, he had been drinking, and for a while now, which concerned her.
“I hear your dead little heart trying to pound in your chest, Bliss. Are you frightened?”
“No,” she lied. “Are you?”
“Ugh, you’ve got to be kidding me, you’re totally gross,” she said.
“Please. Have you seen Mel? Don’t flatter yourself.” With slow, deliberate movements, he placed a pillow over her face, and pushed down, causing her jugular to be exposed. Bliss tensed and jumped beneath him, panic causing her muscles to twitch and spasm as she fought to breathe beneath the white cotton pillowcase. “I’m going to give you a taste of your own bitter medicine, my little predator.”
Without any of the tenderness he had shown the Goth kids the night before,
Away.
The pillow became part of her face, she tried to scream, but the pillow took it in and held it there. When he began to pull the blood from her veins, she felt weightless, almost astral. Nothing could compare to the horror of this thievery, she could feel the life being sapped from her, and she begged him to stop.
Only nothing came out.
Her flow slackened and slowed and her fighting finally tapered off. She hadn’t the strength, her muscles like spent rubberbands.
Her body lay quiet and still.
Dead again.
Long moments passed until she coughed and shuddered, the living dead in pain and need.
“That’s what you did to those children, Bliss Sheridan, did you feel it? Did you feel it, you little dark heart?”
Dahk haht, is what she heard, it took her a few moments in her weary, disembodied state to translate his Bostonian. Dark Heart, she loved it. “
A dropper full of blood was roughly shoved into her mouth. “Yuck! What is that?” “It’s what you’ll be feeding off of from now on, pig’s blood from the butcher, no more grade A stuff from the bank.”
“Cold?”
“Do you think you deserve better?”
“I’m sorry,
“Not even close, Bliss. You’ve got to learn that you can’t just kill people in this day and age, it’s too dangerous for all of us immortals, alive and dead.”
“You’re afraid.”
“And you’re the one who should be. Starve for all I care.” He stood and took the butcher cup full of blood with him.
“You’re sick! You’re torturing me and Mel won’t stand for it!” Bliss screamed with the little strength she had left in reserve.
“Good night, Bliss,”
Bliss lay there for a moment and then opened her mouth. An unearthly banshee shriek filled the villa, so loud it should have shattered glass. The door suddenly burst open, Bliss was quickly gagged, and then the door was slammed as quickly as it had been opened. Choking on the thing that had been shoved into her mouth, she tried to push it out with her tongue.
In her starved, weakened state there was no way she could break the frame like she thought earlier.
And
3
The Path to the Styx
“End of the line,” Iris called, jarring
The dusty, exhausted group looked expectantly at her. Iris indicated the dead end. A wall of human remains stacked like bunks on a submarine lined the walls. Iris and Cory went to work clearing the second from the bottom. They pulled the skeleton that was laid there from its final resting-place and peered in with the flashlights.
“It’s not here,” Cory said.
Iris smacked the walls, searching for the entrance. “It’s supposed to be here,” she said, a deep frown marring her porcelain face.
“It’s there,” Mel said. “Don’t look with your eyes.”
“I have bone dust all over me,” Cory said.
From out of the dark came a rustling sound, like wind through a forest. It came from the direction they had just come from.
Whatever it was, it was getting closer.
“What is that?”
“Shh,” Ares told her.
The rustling had turned into a noise that
Ares drew his Glock and said, “We’re running out of time, Rainbowbrite.”
“I know, I know! It’s supposed to be here, right here!” She replied.
Ares twisted around, shot the wall she had indicated, and turned back toward the noise. A cool breeze whistled through the bullet hole.
“I knew it was here,” Iris whispered.
Apollo moved to the wall hidden by the stacks of catacombs, he brushed the bodies aside and felt along the cool wall. “Crow, give me a hand with this,” he said.
Crow picked up a large stone and began banging on the wall with Apollo. “Sealed? When was the last time you went this way?” Crow asked.
“You don’t want to know,” Iris replied.
Clio flashed her light down the hall, the beam bounced off thousands of glimmering points of light.
“What is that?”
Clio pressed into Ares’ back. “Is that what I think it is?”
“Shoot it,” Ares said.
“Excuse me?” Clio asked him.
“Tell them to shoot the wall, we don’t have any more time,” he said and fired off a couple of warning rounds down the hall. “Get any excess cloth from everyone. Hurry.”
Clio paled and nodded. Whirling about, she called, “Shoot it! Shoot the wall, Apollo! Everyone pull your clothes from your bags, now!”
Piles of clothing were heaped into a barrier between them and the noise. Ares pulled out a flask, doused the clothing with alcohol, and lit them on fire with his Zippo.
He took a step back.
The heat from the flames licked
The popping noise of Apollo’s gun cut through the tension. Dust and smoke filled the hall.
The rats rushed the fire and pulled up just short of the flames.
“There’s thousands of them,”
“
The fire was dying.
Crow through his entire weight into the catacomb wall and it finally came tumbling down. They had made it to the other side.
Iris was shoved through the hole they had made and she pulled Miranda in after her.
Through the hole,
Apollo called into the hole, “Iris, get the mortals to the Underworld! Don’t wait for us!”
Iris pulled Miranda down the short hall to a great arched doorway at the corridor’s end. They stopped in front of it, an eerie blue light emanated from the doorway.
“It’s a ward,” she explained, pointing at the door.
Her wings extended and she plucked a feather, dipped it into the blue haze, and swirled it around. The blue glow dissipated and the doorway was open for the group.
“Okay, we’ve got to go,” Iris said.
“You might not look the same on the other side,” Iris said. “Mortal souls don’t always reflect physical traits.”
“Go on,
Gunfire erupted on the other side of the hall. Clio suddenly emerged, pushed through the hole. She landed with a thud in the dirt.
Mel went to help her and Cory pulled her back with a sharp tug. “Are you nuts? What could you possibly do?” She asked Mel.
“Iris, get them out of here,” Clio screamed. Rats poured in from the hole.
Iris herded them into the doorway. The last thing
A tingling sensation erupted over her entire body. She felt as though every muscle had fallen asleep and she was pins and needles everywhere.
And she was there. She had landed in an ungraceful heap on the other side, feeling like she had made it to Wonderland. Cory helped her to her feet. Dusting herself off,
“I know this place,” she whispered.
A rocky path lay beneath her feet and the fog bank on either side of them was so thick, she couldn’t see past twenty or thirty feet.
Curious, she inspected her hands, feet, and clothing. Everything seemed intact.
Iris was pulling a red-haired man to his feet.
Everyone was staring at the newcomer in confusion.
He stood and brushed off, “What the hell is everyone staring at?”
“What the hell is your prob, Al?” He demanded.
“You look different,” she said. She didn’t know how to tell him.
A child stood and brushed off a burgundy velvet dress. Her serious gray eyes and chestnut curls swung in
The child stared at Crow hesitantly, “Daddy?”
“No,” he said as he, too, stared in bewilderment at the little girl.
The little girl blinked a couple of times, cocked her head, and raised her eyebrows in recognition. “Crow?” She asked next.
“Yeah,” he said.
Clio was pushed through the doorway and fell face down onto the path. Her shoulder blades rose and fell from her exertion. Both of her palms pushed into the ground as she picked herself up. Dozens of cuts and bites bled from her forearms on down. Brushing herself off, the muse surveyed everyone staring at her and saw what they were waiting for.
Her glance fell upon the man standing on the path, looking every bit the same as the last day she saw him, right before he boarded his flight for
“Oh, god,” she managed weakly. “Julian?”
Julian’s face swung in Clio’s direction. His brows tugged together. “No,” he said.
Clio was suddenly knocked back to the ground by Apollo as he tore through the doorway. She finally saw the child hiding behind Mel’s legs.
“Miranda?”
“Yes, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…”
“Oh,” Clio said. “Oh.”
“I can’t,” Clio continued, her breath heavy with emotion. “I can’t…”
“It’s alright, Clio, it’s just a ruse, calm yourself, you’re going to make yourself sick,” Miranda said.
Clio reached out a trembling hand and touched the dress. Her hand moved to Miranda’s cheek and roughly swept the girl’s hair. “This is madness,” she whispered. “This isn’t right.”
Clio wiped the back of her bloody, rat-bitten hands across her cheeks and nodded. She patted the girl’s hair into place. “We’ll get through this,” she said in a shaking voice. “We’ll beat this.”
Mel crossed over to Crow and whispered into his ear. His expression changed to one of pain and he brought a hand to his head as though he had a terrible headache. Gripping his head, he moaned aloud with pain and doubled over.
His hand shot out and gripped her wrist. She issued a sharp gasp at the touch. The hand that held her was not her brother.
She had never seen the eyes that stared back at her before. Fear grabbed her by the face and held
He looked around at the rest of the group. His gaze finally rested upon Clio. He cocked his queerly at the muse.
“Pidge?” He said. “What are you doing here?”
Clio let out a breath and crossed over to him. She picked up his hand and turned it over. Her fingers traced the soft lines of his palm. She placed something into his hand and closed his fingers into a fist.
He opened his palm and a ring of gold rested there. His eyes lifted from the ring to Clio’s face.
“I couldn’t find you. I’m sorry, I looked and looked, but I couldn’t find you,” she whispered into his shoulder.
He swept her up and carried her a few feet away from the rest.
“What the hell is going on?” He asked her.
The pair spoke in hushed tones. Clio’s despair caught and melted away in her husband’s succor. They returned from their reunion and went to Miranda, who had been staring agape at the whole situation.
Julian swung Miranda up into his embrace and kissed her. “You’re wearing the dress I picked out for you, Button.”
“I’ve been waiting for you to come home,” her mature gaze glanced down at the baby dress and she looked back up at him.
Julian set her down and turned to Clio. His hands tangled in her hair, and he pressed his face to hers.
Clio turned to her sister, “Mel, what did you do?”
“I just made him remember.”
Julian suddenly grasped his head and doubled over.
“Oh, dear,” Mel said. “But Crow remembers, too.”
“Christ! What the fuck was that?” He yelled.
Crow.
Crow looked at everyone staring at him. “Would everyone stop looking at me like I’m some sideshow freak?”
The pain in Clio’s eyes was almost enough to make
Crow walked away from her and Miranda, who tried to take his hand. “Crow, I’m sorry,” she told him.
“Gram?” He asked.
“I know. Don’t you think I know? Do you have a compact on you?” He asked her in a low voice, trying to duck attention from the others.
Crow turned his back to the rest, opened it, and took a deep intake of breath. “My god. I’m him, Alice, the guy in all the pictures at Gram’s house.” He prodded the skin on his chin in disbelief.
“Yeah. Told you.”
“What’s with Gram? Why is she, like, six?” Concern crept into his voice.
“I guess she’s stuck in a moment. Look at Clio, she looks like she’s about to lose it,”
Clio stood shuddering mechanically, shaking her head in denial.
“This is only the beginning,” Crow said.
4
Eastbound Interstate 10, Just outside Palm Springs
Annie’s black Ford Excursion sliced through the hot night with the windows down and Radiohead on the CD player. His hands smoothed over his newly shaved head, feeling the foreign landscape of his bare scalp.
Annie didn’t know where he was going.
The warehouse had gone up like a fireball on the
A couple of rock stations were running with the rumor that a black Dodge Charger was spotted at the scene of the explosion. A black Dodge Charger that just happened to belong to Chad Swann, aka Annie Christ. They weren’t saying it was his drug lab, just that he was currently missing and presumed dead.
The stations were playing a litany of Little Orphan Annie Christ tunes on the radio, which was why he put in a CD.
What Annie couldn’t figure out was why the Kraken had exploded. It looked like a war zone down there. He wished he could take credit for it, he wished he had thought of a self-destruct system, but he hadn’t.
Someone blew that place to Hell and back. He reached for his cigarette lighter in the dash. Annie would like to thank whoever did it. The immortality research remained secret and he was dead.
His attention slipped away from the explosion when he thought he saw a girl standing on the highway. All tight blue jeans, little white tank top, and one thumb sticking out from a whirlwind of blonde hair.
Annie pulled into the breakdown lane and waited for her catch up as she jogged over to the Excursion. Her face peered into the open passenger window suspiciously.
“Hi,” she breathed. Her pink lips broke into a broad smile and she hitched up the backpack she had over one shoulder.
“That would be me, Petunia,” he said as he exhaled his smoke. He slapped the empty seat and said, “Get in.”
Cocking her head, she asked, “What’s your favorite movie?”
“Is this a hitchhiker test, princess? Beggars can’t be choosers. You’re the one hitching, not me. Now, where you headed?”
“
“Well, this might be your lucky day,” he said, a dangerous smile dangled from his lips.
Her eyes flitted up and down the empty freeway and she opened the SUV’s door. Her backpack plopped on the floor and she buckled her seatbelt as he pulled back on the freeway.
“Excalibur,” he said.
“Huh?”
“My favorite movie.”
“Oh. Never seen it.”
“Cops could’ve picked you up, it’s illegal to hitchhike on the freeway, y’know,” he said. His sideways glance measured her up while he drove.
“Yeah, well, they didn’t and you did.”
“What’s your name, precious?” Annie asked her.
“Eve.”
“Well, Eve, my name’s
“Where are you headed?”
“
“What are you running away from?”
He chuckled. “What makes you think I’m running away from anything?”
“Well, people usually know where they’re goin’ unless they’re in a panic and are trying to get away from anywhere but where they’re at.” Her bottom lip wrestled between tiny pearl teeth.
“How incredibly astute you are.” That wolfish grin threatened to devour her again.
“Thanks.”
They were quiet, uncomfortably silent, as she studied his profile. “What are you running from?” He asked her.
“Oh, I’m not running from anything, I’m running to
“Are you any good?”
“No,” she replied. “But it sounds good, doesn’t it?”
“Mm-hmm,” he shook his head. “You’re a real piece, you know that?”
“You look familiar.”
He tensed up. “I get that a lot.”
“No, honestly, I’m good with faces. Are you from Banning?”
“Banning?”
“Guess not. Banning was the shithole you picked me up in. I’ll think of it, I rarely forget a face.” Eve took in the expensive Ford, his tattoos, his rings, and then her eyes settled on the Acme bomb tattooed on the back of his right hand. Her eyes widened and she broke into a silly, schoolgirl smile. She yanked a school binder from her backpack and pointed at the ripped page from Rolling Stone that decorated it’s cover.
“Oh my god!” She exclaimed. “You’re him! Oh my god, oh my god!”
Annie brought a slow hand to his forehead. “Relax, would you?”
“Annie Christ! I’m driving to
“Eve, if you don’t chill out, I’m gonna leave you at the next truck stop.”
“Okay, okay, I’ll be cool, but this is so cool! I am the luckiest girl in the world! Jesus, this is my lucky day!”
“It sure is, princess, it sure is.”
5
The Underworld
The Road of Sorrow
Ares was standing behind her and put a hand on her shoulder. “You alright, luv?”
“No, I’m fucking far from alright,” she replied in a tight voice and sat on a fallen tree limb near the path.
“Well, this is a cocked up mess.”
Clio nodded in agreement.
Miranda tugged on Ares’ coat and he whirled around to stare down at her. “We need to go, don’t we?” Her voice was small and serious. “I need a cigarette.”
Ares handed her his lit Lucky and proceeded to light his own.
Miranda inhaled deeply, closing her eyes in thought. They smoked in silence, both of their faces etched with concern.
“The chit’s right, we need to get a move on,” Ares said and went in search of Iris and Apollo, who apparently had come to the same conclusion. He put out the cigarette he had been smoking and said, “Break’s over. Muse, you ready?”
“Mm-hmm,” she replied distantly.
Ares frowned as he looked at her, she looked awful.
“She’ll be alright, won’t she?” Miranda asked.
“I don’t know,” he said.
Unflappable, she looked up at him and said, “She doesn’t look good.”
Much to his chagrin, Miranda was right. Clio stood and looked sick.
“Clio, love, are you going to be ill?” Mel asked.
Ares caught her as she went down. Lifting her up, he looked for some place to set her down. Finding nothing, he sat on her log and shifted her to his lap. Her head rested heavily on his shoulder. “A li’l help?” He asked Miranda.
She lightly slapped Clio’s cheeks. “Clio, wake up.”
“God, don’t you people know anything?” Cory asked and dug a first aid kit from her pack.
“Well, look who speaks,” Crow said.
Cory peered at him as though he were a roach that needed to be stomped on. She passed the smelling salts to Miranda who waved them beneath Clio’s nose.
Clio awoke with a start. “Oh, I’m sorry,” she said. She pulled away from the war god and was suddenly woozy again.
“Just a moment, muse, wait until you’re ready,” he said.
Clio stared at him as though he had grown a second head. “What are you about?”
Crow glared moodily at them and spun around to stalk away. He suddenly doubled over, gripping his head, and crying out in pain again.
Cory made a face and knew what was coming. “This is gonna get old real fast,” she complained. “Pick a personality, would you?”
When he straightened up, Julian hurried over to where Clio was recovering. “Are you alright?”
His concerned expression made her think of Crow after the fiasco at the warehouse. Clio’s eyes met his and she pursed her lips tightly together. She extracted herself from Ares and stood on her own.
“I think I’ll live,” she replied with an iciness that all three of them had not been expecting.
“Do you want me to stay away?” Julian asked.
“No? I don’t know? Maybe I want you to stay and Crow to keep away? Is that fair?” She pinched the flesh between her nose and lip, trying to conceal her guilt.
“I can’t keep him back, I wouldn’t want to,” he said. “He’s very strong.”
“He’s our great-grandson,” she said wryly.
After giving her a long measured look, Julian soaked in the circumstance that had brought him to this place. “I didn’t know,” he admitted. “ It’s been awhile. I’m having trouble remembering anything after the plane in
“Which one? The one we just got off of or the one that stole you from me seventy years ago?” Her voice was as still as death.
“What happened to you, Clio? What made you into this shadow?” He touched her face.
“You did,” she said and walked away.
Ares tried to put a hand on her shoulder, anger coming off her in waves. “Pet-”
“Leave me alone, Ares, whatever you’re up to, it’s not going to work.” Shoving past him, she moved to a place where she knew he wouldn’t follow, right behind Iris and Apollo, who were looking at everyone as though they had all gone mad.
Ares stared at her for a long while, watching as she steeled herself from all of them. He cocked his head and tried to figure her out, again.
6
The Underworld
Road of Sorrows
Apollo watched the group with the curiosity of an outsider. They had no idea how oddly knit they all were. He was aware that Clio had said something to hurt his brother, and was now using his own proximity to hold Ares at bay.
Clio’s presence remained for him a glaring reminder of the one they were there for. Two sides of the same coin were she and Calliope. Calliope, how does she always get herself into these calamities? He shook his head, and Iris touched his hand gently.
The Rainbow Goddess had let him walk in his brooding silence most of the way here, for which he was deeply grateful. Apollo wasn’t completely sure if they could accomplish this thing, they were challenging a god as powerful as his father was and even with his surly, bellicose brother, the odds were stacked high against them.
Apollo could never figure Ares out and even less after these last few hours. He knew Ares rebuked their kinship and why, but what he couldn’t understand was this sudden connection with the Muse of History. Ares wasn’t Ares around her, not that Apollo minded – the bitter, hostile, militant Ares wasn’t a party waiting to happen.
Apollo was the result of Zeus’ philandering and because this hurt Ares’ mother, Hera, Ares refused to acknowledge his half-brother. Moreover, I was exonerated from my exile while he was not, Apollo shook his head, no wonder he hates me.
Zeus had always been indulgent when it came to the nine sisters, too indulgent. Calliope had become a reckless, impudent brat with no thought whatsoever for the rules they all had to live by. Zeus let it get out of control, and his irresponsible behavior was as much to blame as the rebellious muse’s was.
Stupid, stupid girl! Apollo internally admonished her, how could she be so selfish? Then he blushed, he was one to talk, he broke under the pressure of their son’s tragedy, Clio was right. He had abandoned them all because his heart had been ripped apart as surely as his favorite son had been.
With a heavy heart, he whirled around and faced Clio. He kept moving, walking backwards. “Clio, I-”
The muse stared hard at the path beneath her. “You know something funny? We live forever, but never resolve a thing.” The back of her hand smeared a tear across her cheek. “What are you doing here, Apollo? I mean, what are you really doing here?”
“I don’t know. I’m supposed to be here when something happens to one of you, I guess.” He couldn’t stop looking at her. She looked like a lost, frightened child.
Clio chose her next questions carefully, “Where were you when I married Julian? Where were you when Miranda was born? Where were you when my husband was killed?” Her voice rose in pitch, her eyes wild and furious.
“Clio,” Apollo said and hugged her impulsively, she tried to fight him off, then slumped against him and finished crying.
“You don’t know anything,” she sniffed. “You’re here for her, not for us, for her.”
“Maybe. However, that doesn’t mean I don’t love all of you. I should have been there for you.”
“You’re sorry?”
“Yes, I am sorry for everything I’ve done to you and your sisters.”
His grave expression touched her and she frowned. “That doesn’t make it better and it doesn’t make it alright,” she responded.
7
The Underworld
The Gates of Tartaros
“There,” Iris said and pointed. She had brought them this far by the river and had just found the clue she had been looking for.
From their small boat on the Lethe, they all turned to see what she was pointing at.
The Gates of Tartaros.
Black iron climbed to the sky, the bars twisted and distorted like a nightmare.
“Hell’s Gate,” Clio said grimly. “Why are we here?”
Ares caught her gaze, and held it for a brief moment. She was frightened and she knew he could hear her heart racing in her chest like an ensnared bird.
They beached the small boat and got out. The gates were taller than any of them could have imagined – good hundred, hundred and fifty feet.
“God,” Cory said. “Why did I let you talk me into this?”
“You asked,” Mel said.
Black roses climbed the bars, their painful thorns guarding the gates from anyone who would break into, or out of, Hell.
“Why are we here? She wouldn’t be here, she hasn’t done anything wrong,” Clio said.
They all looked to Iris for guidance. “I pointed to him. Why did you think we stopped here?” She asked Clio.
Confused, Clio looked around.
“She told, she really told them everything,” came the slurred reply. Hypnos stood beside an enormous oak tree, a great key ring in his lily-white hands.
“Oh, my god,” Clio said and moved to support his stumbling form. He began weeping instantly. Apollo and Ares exchanged a knowing glance.
He was drunk and unwashed, “I’m sorry, Clio.”
“I don’t understand,” she said.
Mel took him into her arms, and kissed the top of his dark head. “Hypnos, we know how much you love Calliope, we know you would never have let any harm come to her if you could have prevented it.”
“It was Persephone, the sly bitch,” he said. “She’s up to somethin’, Melpomene.”
“Shh, Nos, I know,” she stroked his long, black hair. “The key, beloved, we need the key.”
“I don’t understand,” Clio repeated. “What are we doing here? What are we doing here at Tartaros?”
Mel’s hands captured Clio’s face and she whispered into her ear. The historian crumpled to the dirt at the news of her sister’s sentence to Hell.
“I promised her I wouldn’t leave her alone here, you know she’s afraid of this place,” Hypnos pined.
He handed Mel the correct key. “I can’t go, Mel.”
Mel pursed her lips together and said, “I understand. Cory, be a dear and make sure he gets to the chateau, give him a bath and put him to bed. Hurry back with some horses in case we need to make a getaway.”
Thankful to be relieved of having to go through the dreaded gates, she agreed with a quick nod.
Mel placed the key into Apollo’s hands.
Clio rose from where she had fallen to the ground upon hearing her sister’s fate.
Hypnos grabbed her hand and pulled her close. “Beware Persephone, Clio, please. I know you think me drunk right now, but heed my warning, she is a viper.”
Clio could feel her blood pound from the desperate warning. “What is happening to this place? Why was my sister brought here?”
“It’s been terrible, even talk of a coup. Persephone is trying to gain more and more power from Hades, but he doesn’t seem to be having any of it.”
“I thought they were married,”
“They are, but Hades won his wife under questionable circumstances, there’s still lingering rumors that he stole her,” Hypnos explained. “No one is to be trusted down here, you never know whose side who is on.”
“Hold on a minute, you mean the Gruesome Twosome are actually fighting for control of the bloody Underworld?” Ares laughed loudly. “My uncle fightin’ for his own with a slip of a chit.”
“That’s the problem, nobody realizes the power she wields. Hades thinks that she’s just playing with him, I think he’s just playing with her, it’s all a game to him.” Hypnos sighed. “You know how they are.”
Apollo looked to Ares and said, “This is not the same Persephone we saw last, is it?”
“That doesn’t answer my question, Nos. Why was Calliope brought to Tartaros?” Clio asked.
“They said she had given the mortals evidence. But there was no trial or anything, she was just secreted away from us,” he said.
“I think I know the answer to your question, Clio.”
Clio whirled around.
Julian stood staring at the Ancient Greek carved into the gate. “I’ve seen this dialect once before.” It went silent as they waited for an explanation. “The day I…” Julian began, “the day I had my accident, I had deciphered a Tartarian scroll.”
Clio’s eyebrow drew together. “What? What did it say?”
“It foretold a muse would bring about the fall of Hades.”
“Oh,” Mel moaned. “Oh, no, and we just brought four muses to this place.”
“It said at the dawn of the new millennium, a muse would bring about the fall of Hades.”
Clio moved toward her husband, her face painted in disbelief. “What happened to the scroll?”
“I don’t know. The last time I saw it, I gave it to Meg to put away.”
Nobody spoke, no one even breathed.
“Who? Who did you say?” Clio replied.
“Meg. Maigret, my assistant, you remember,” Julian said.
Clio looked to Hypnos. She returned her attention to Julian. “Maigret did not come to the funeral. She sent your personal effects, but didn’t come to the funeral.” Mel laid a hand on Clio’s shoulder. Clio pulled away and said, “I never met your assistant, Julian.”
Julian looked confused.
“What did Meg look like?”
“I don’t know, black hair, black eyes, pale skin, tall, thin,” he said.
“Was she pretty?”
“What? Yeah, I suppose she was,” he replied. His hands fumbled in his pockets.
“Oh, god.” Clio brought her palm to her forehead.
“Clio, what?”
“She killed you,” she said. “Your assistant was Megaera the Grim. She’s an Erinys, a guardian of the Underworld and an avenger of murder. She killed you for the scroll. She didn’t want you to tell Calliope or me about the prophecy.”
Julian balked. “There must be a mistake. Meg couldn’t have.”
“That’s why Hades hid your soul from me,” she continued. “It’s all becoming so clear. That’s why he’s locked Calliope away.”
Julian pinched the bridge of his nose, a gesture familiar to Clio.
“They made one mistake,” Clio said. “Calliope wasn’t the muse that Hades had to fear.”
Ares fixed an intense gaze on the muse. His arms folded across his chest and he chewed his lip, deep in thought.
“Thank you, Hypnos, for trying,” she said and kissed the God of Rest on both cheeks.
“Tell her... tell her that I love her, I love her more than he ever will,” they both looked at Apollo.
“I know you do, and I’ll tell her. If it’s any consolation, I think she’s a fool,” she whispered in his ear before she slipped away. To the rest, she said, “Let’s go, I’m through fucking around.”
Mel shook her head. “What is going to happen?”
“I’ll tell you what is going to happen,”
They all stopped and stared at the redhead.
“You will leave this place Clio, the Keeper of Histories. You will take you and your ilk and leave this place. Leave the muse to her penitence.”
Hypnos circled
“You have brought the Warrior, you have performed an act of aggression upon this place,”
“I have come for my sister,” Clio said. “I was given warning not to return to your world so I have brought proper protection, it is not an act of aggression.”
“Leave the Wordsmith to us, Keeper, she is yours no longer. Stay and face the consequences.”
“I’ll take my chances,” she closed the gap between her and the voice. “Now get out of my grandchild,” she said and slapped
Miranda hurried over to her. “Why? Why
“
“I feel like –”
“Like you’ve been raped. It’s as though someone has broken into your house and you can’t see them or hear them, but you know they’re still there,” Mel said. “I know.”
Clio nodded and opened the Gate.
8
The Underworld
Tartaros
The first thing they noticed was the complete lack of sound in Tartaros. The world was utterly silent. Footsteps, clothes, trees, water – all were mute. It made the hairs on the back of Clio’s neck rise to attention. She shivered, but put on an impassive mask.
They were walking without any real direction through a field of tall grass. A silent brook cut through the field and this is what Clio followed. The dark sky cast a shadowy pall across the land.
“We’re sitting ducks in this open field,” Ares said. The dead grass grew knee high on both sides of them and the scattered groves far afield offered little cover. He pulled out his Glock, checked the clip and slide, and kept it at the ready.
A lone building crouched on the horizon. It stood abandoned in the fields. Surely, Hell could not be this empty? Clio wondered, and felt his heat close to her side.
Ares took her hand in his. “Hell is a vast wasteland, luv, only it is forever.”
Clio stopped and stood in front of him. With a serious expression, she asked, “Do you ever get afraid?”
“All the time, pet. It’s bad to be a coward, but it’s not bad to be afraid,” he reassured her softly and gently stroked her thumb with his own.
“I’m glad you’re here,” was the only thing she thought to say and pulled away from him.
Ares looked into the direction she was leading them. She was headed toward the building in the distance.
The bruised sky offered a miserable light and they stood in a vast sea of dead grass. They seemed to be the only things alive for miles. Until she heard the noise.
Her blood turned to ice at the sound. Clio froze where she stood.
A deep, low growl to the far left, coming from a small grove of oaks close to the building, about a hundred yards off. Ares tensed up and Mel tossed him the other Glock from her bag. Apollo stayed everyone with his hand. He pulled his gun as well.
The two blondes stood between the group and the grove, both their postures assuming a protective stance. As they stared into the grove, there came another growl, this one deep enough and loud enough to shake the ground beneath them.
“Right then,” Ares said. Then in a low voice, “Clio, get a flare from my pack.”
She dropped down to where he had flung his pack at the first sign of danger. With an unsteady hand, she handed him a flare. He covered the trembling hand with his own.
“No worries, pet,” he told her as he took it.
He lit the flare and, with a mighty heave, tossed it into the grove. The source of the noise stood before them.
“Oh, Jesus,” Apollo said.
Ares holstered his guns and whirled around at Clio. He took her chin in his hand and had her look into his eyes. “When me and the ponce start shooting, you get them to that building, muse. When I say, ‘run’, you run and you don’t look back, it’s up to you to get them there.” Trying to reach her by looking into her frightened eyes, he had hold of both her forearms, and shook her. “Clio? Luv, nod if you understand me.”
She nodded. Focusing on him, she gathered some of his strength and decisively shook her head.
Satisfied, he turned back around to face it.
There stood a beast twenty to thirty feet tall, with three heads resembling a cross between a pit bull and a dragon. It had a bulldog-shaped body and the tail of a scorpion. One of the heads was down low, like a junkyard dog ready to attack. Forepaws spread at the ready, it was monstrous and colossal, and it was a nightmare.
Mel finally called it by name. “Cerberus.”
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