Chapter 6 Daesra
DAESRA
I FIND myself standing at the entrance of a cave, staring skeptically into its depths, after having followed Horizon’s surprisingly clear directions for the past several days.
The jagged tunnel delves into the face of the cliff looming above me, vanishing into darkness.
Behind me, waves crash against a barren, rocky beach.
The only other sound comes from Pogli, who growls and barks unceasingly into the cave’s mouth, hopping on his front paws with each expulsion.
The noise echoes back at us, as if there were another barking little chimera inside, which only makes him bark all the more.
Is this actually the gateway to hell? I can’t help thinking. It looks just like any other cave, albeit a deep one—entirely too ordinary. Pogli, however, seems to know there’s something strange about it, and I’ve learned to trust his animal instincts, if not his intelligence.
I shrug, half to Pogli and half to myself. “All right, then. I’m coming, Sadaré.”
As if he can understand me, Pogli finally quiets down and dashes in an excited circle around my legs when I start forward.
Under my breath, I add, “I hope.”
I haven’t allowed room for anything in me but hope, because I didn’t want to endanger anyone around me on my journey.
I behaved better than I had on my smoke-and-blood-hazed trek to the Tower of the Gods, fixing the goal of once again seeing Sadaré firmly in mind so as not to leave any villages in bloody tatters.
In fact, I avoided human settlements altogether, feeding myself on hope.
I trace the rocky edge of the cave’s lip with my fingertips, coming away with only grit, before I take my first step inside. The air feels immediately colder, but that’s not unusual for a cave. It smells of salt and chill and deep earth—exactly like a cave on the sea, in other words.
“Hello?” I call somewhat foolishly, since only my own voice echoes back at me from the darkness—not much more useful than Pogli’s barking.
At least that means it will only be me who suffers if this goes poorly.
There’s no one else here, either because this tunnel isn’t the actual entrance to the underworld or because most mortals take the usual route by way of dying.
Anyone else—whether mortal, demigod, or daemon—would be insane to enter voluntarily.
And any full god is supposedly unable. Except for me.
“Hello,” a new voice responds, deep and friendly. Definitely not my own and not from in front of me, but behind.
I startle, despite whatever godly stature I might hold, and spin around, my sword instantly appearing in my grip. Pogli unleashes a miniature storm of screeching yaps, but he stays miniature as well. Surprisingly, he doesn’t charge, either.
A man stands behind us, just outside the cave mouth.
His skin is golden brown, black ringlets framing his youthful, handsome face, while his startlingly blue eyes trace me relentlessly.
His nondescript tunic is a color somewhere between beige and olive, and his sandals are worn.
He, like the cave, doesn’t look extraordinary in the slightest, aside from maybe that eye color alongside his darker complexion, though the combination isn’t unheard-of in mortals.
And yet this beach was empty a moment ago. Not to mention he doesn’t seem to care that I have blue-toned skin, wine-red eyes, and curving dark horns rising from my slate-colored hair, never mind a chimera for a companion. He might not be mortal, or at least not entirely.
“What are you doing here?” I snap, flicking my blade at him. My voice is loud over the faint crashing of the waves. “Where did you come from?”
I realize Pogli has not only stopped barking, but he’s lurking near my ankles warily. Is he hiding? Usually he would be furiously biting, curiously sniffing, or happily licking someone by now. Once more his instincts heighten my own, and my skin prickles in vague warning.
“I’m the gatekeeper, so I’m always here,” the man says almost cheerfully—in distinct contrast to my tone.
“You’re the gatekeeper of this”—I toss my thumb back at the cave—“particular gate?”
He smiles and nods, folding well-toned arms, as if he’s answered these questions before and yet doesn’t mind taking the time to do so again.
With that smug look on his face, he’s obviously well aware of where this tunnel leads—or at least where it’s rumored to lead.
This could still be a foul trick Horizon is playing on me, though I can hardly bear considering the possibility.
“So is that your name—Gatekeeper?” I ask. It would be fitting with how literal the gods often are.
“Orseus is how I’m known.” He extends a hand for me to clasp at the wrist.
So he’s not fully a god with a name like that, and he’s too human-looking besides.
I’m the only god who appears human, as far as I know—though the gods have borrowed mortal bodies before, usually destroying them in the process.
He doesn’t look to be bursting at the seams with divine strength, even if he is nicely muscled.
I only glance at his arm without taking it, holding my sword level.
“So, Orseus,” I say slowly, as if to a simpleton, “I need to go through this gate. That’s where I was heading just now.”
He drops his hand but keeps the now-unnerving smile on his face. “Finding the way can be challenging. I can guide you through—but only if you grant me a favor in return.”
He’s probably a demigod if he can pass back and forth to the underworld, or perhaps a daemon in disguise, though I’ve never met a daemon who could readily hide their true form. Definitely unwise to be granting him any favors, in any case.
“I’m sure I can manage on my own,” I say, turning to the side so I can shuffle into the cave without brushing the walls—that, and to avoid showing him my back, keeping my sword between us.
In truth, I’m watching him and not the way forward, Pogli still sticking close to my heels, when my guiding hand bumps into an obstacle only a few paces in, stopping me short.
When I look in surprise, the passage abruptly ceases in a rock face where I could have sworn there was open darkness before.
Eyes can play tricks, but I know for a fact the cave went deeper than this, especially with how it echoed. Even Pogli growls at our dead end.
There’s only one explanation.
“You.” I spin on him with a snarl on my lips, raising my sword higher. “I’m allowed to pass through.”
“No,” Orseus says patiently from where he leans against a large rock, his arms casually folded once more. “You’re able to pass through, but not necessarily allowed. And I’m the gatekeeper.”
I stomp back over to him, missing my hooves since the effect isn’t nearly as intimidating in sandals. At least I’m a good bit taller than him, especially with my horns. “Fine,” I growl, lowering my blade to my side in concession. “How do I get in?”
“I told you, I can guide you—for a favor.”
I huff out a breath, blowing my hair out of my face impatiently. “What favor?”
“Your particular favor. You. With me.” His gaze trails me from horns to feet, lingering in a particular spot underneath my leather-belted, midnight-blue tunic that I donned in concession to Horizon, since my old one was covered in blood. He tosses his head, black ringlets bouncing. “Here. Now.”
For a moment, I simply gape at him. Dear gods, will I never be able to go anywhere without feverish mortals swarming all over me or each other in either wanton rapture or violent frenzy?
He’s probably maintaining his composure so well because he’s only half mortal.
At least he isn’t attacking me, but maybe I should have hoped for violence.
Not that I mind a bit of libidinous fun now and then, but this godly ramification is getting to be ridiculous.
I scoff with such incredulous force that the sound rebounds off the cliff face.
“You truly want to rut with me in the sand like an animal? Now?” I throw out my hands in a wild gesture, almost flinging my sword away with it.
“You definitely have some mortal blood if you’re reacting like this, which is unfortunate for you and more than enough for me.
I don’t have time to humor such absurd suggestions, so how about this—if you guide me through, I won’t kill you. ”
“And here I thought I was paying you a compliment.” He arches a brow at me and crosses his legs at the ankle, displaying finely shaped calves and an obvious lack of concern for his life. “Are you so sure you can kill me?”
I take a threatening step closer. “I’m willing to give it a heartfelt try if you don’t help me, and this sword is divinely deadly.
But if you do help me reach the underworld—and yes, I’m specifying the underworld in case this cave leads elsewhere or you otherwise try to trick me…
” I pause, leaning my head back to sigh up at the cold blue sky as if in entreaty—and then I quickly look back down lest I somehow actually garner Horizon’s attention.
I don’t want my god of a parent knowing what I’m about to propose.
As it is, they’ve been critical of my behavior, and this would definitely count as debasement of my divine nature.
But the lad is handsome enough, I’ve bedded folk for lesser reasons, and I’m sure Sadaré will forgive me, given the circumstances.
I would even be happy to argue with her about it later, because that would mean I’d found her.
“I promise to give you what you desire—when, and only when, I return to this realm from the underworld. In one piece, preferably.”
Orseus shrugs, his bright blue eyes never leaving me. “I’d take you in pieces.” Before I can do more than give him a look of supreme disgust, he says, “Very well, agreed. Let’s go. Remember what you promised.”
He passes me with a wink, bumping my shoulder intentionally with his. Uncharacteristically, Pogli scurries out of his way.