48. Barrett
BARRETT
“ Y ou ever been to Aidonia?” Atlas asked as the shadows receded, revealing the lush flower-covered slopes of a valley cast in shades of pinks, purples, and blues around us. A river cut down the middle of the valley, snaking through flowery fields, pebbled with small boulders and rocks.
“No,” I said, unable to pull my eyes from the view.
“The Valleys of the Stryass,” Atlas explained. “They were once desolate; nothing could grow here, and the river was poisonous.”
I had heard stories of Hades’ domain, once solely ruled by him until he met Persephone, who brought life back to his lands. The sight of the valley made it nearly impossible to imagine it to be nothing but death and waste.
No matter how many times I’d been to the Godsrealm, no matter which domain I visited, every time was like a punch to the senses.
Despite the sunrise casting its warm light across the steep mountain’s ridges, the two massive moons could still faintly be seen amidst the clouds, where a pod of sky whales played.
They dipped and danced, their melody like a sad song as they sang to each other, the sound echoing through the air, the very sound sinking into my bones in a way I would never forget.
“Magnificent aren’t they?” Atlas asked, watching them from my side, the sunlight illuminating the gold-inked tattoos that decorated his face and neck. “They’re said to bring good luck to those traveling by airship.”
“Perhaps they will bestow their favor on us as well,” I said, turning away from the sight to lift my eyes to the towering mountain at our backs.
Atlas slid me a smile. “We can only hope.”
Earth rumbled from the mountain as the face of it seemed to crack, revealing massive gates, separating to make way for an approaching airship.
The airships of the Godsrealm were nothing like the airplanes of the Mortalrealm.
They were just as much ships in the air as were their sister ships in the sea; wooden and metal vessels, fitted with sails and wings of all different shapes, sizes, and colors.
Some were small, private vessels made to carry a family while some were massive, carrying fae to other domains or cargo for trade.
“Wait till you see what it looks like inside,” he said, nodding to where his two personal guards had taken the lead. We started the trek toward the main gate at the base of the mountainside where the river split and flowed underground, connecting to the River Styx.
A small village stood around the entrance to the capital city, Aidonia.
Fae folk of every domain came and went along our path, casting weary glances at us as they moved.
A goblin-like creature peddling wares from his rickety, wooden cart came to a stop in front of us, blocking our path as he wiped the sweat from his wrinkly, gray-green forehead.
When we made to step around him, he sneered at us, grumbling insults in the old language before hoisting the handles of his two-wheeled cart up to continue rolling it forward.
“ Katàratos ,” he muttered, voice rough, before disappearing into the crowd—the word falling from his lips like a spit on my boots.
I narrowed my eyes on the creature, and Atlas laid a hand on my shoulder.
“Ignore him,” Atlas said and turned his gaze forward as we drew closer to the main gate.
“ Kērysoi v?u volúntae ,” a satyr in black armor said, demanding to know our intentions as he tapped the butt of his ornate, Elythian steel spear to the stone ground.
Sparks kicked up from where the enchanted metal cracked against rock.
It had been some time since I’d spoken the Elythian language, and it still felt strangely like home to hear it.
“My name is Atlas Sideris, and these are my companions,” he said in Elythian as he held his hand out to us. “We are here at Hades’ behest. He should be expecting us.”
“Follow me,” the other guard said, a fae with small, ram-like horns protruding from her helmet, her tail swishing as she turned to place a palm to an etched circle on the wall next to the entrance. She leaned in, as if talking to someone within the stone. “Atlas is here to see Hades.”
She glanced over her shoulder as the gates opened and jerked her chin toward it. “I will escort you to your chambers.”
Atlas’ two guards took the lead, and we followed after them, stepping into the mouth of what was the most monstrous mountain I had ever seen.
“Gods,” I breathed, eyes rising to the countless sky ships flying in all directions beneath the ceiling towering thousands of feet above us, charmed to look like glass.
The sky filtered through it, illuminating the interior walls of the hollow mountain cityin rich daylight.
Houses and shops were built or carved into the walls of the mountain, pathways and steps winding in all directions.
Some were cozy little cottages, some grand villas with balconies overseeing the capital with what must have been the most spectacular view.
The city was bustling, fae of every shape and size buying and selling, enjoying the market and restaurants, their voices melding into a distant hum of a thriving metropolis.
“Hades has done well for himself in the recent decades. He has expanded trade with the completion of the second largest airship hanger in all of Elythias,” Atlas said as I passed through the main portion of the city, where countless shops and market stalls stood.
Creeping vines clung to the walls of the stone buildings, and lush gardens lined every nook and cranny along the sidewalks and roads.
Through the windows of the shops, I found all sorts of wares—small book merchants, potion masters, clothiers, tea shops.
“When I thought about visiting the ruler of the underworld, I did not expect it to be so colorful,” I said, lifting my eyes to what I assumed was Hades’ palace.
It was monumental structure carved into the wall of the mountain in such fine detail, I knew it had to have been raised with magic and not built by hand.
We drew the attention of the fae who called the capital home, some halting conversations to cast curious looks our way.
“Many of them have probably never seen an immortal before,” Atlas said, inclining his head with a smile that dripped hidden poison to a passing fae with long, rabbit-like ears—a Kunilas.
Her eyes were filled with a knowing distrust as he smiled at her, and she turned her gaze forward, head held high as she walked past us with long, delicate strides.
She towered over me, body built with lean power down to her lower legs, which were more like that of a jack rabbit; the pads of her feet were small and delicate, yet powerful enough to likely put someone down with a single kick.
She was dressed in finery, her hair braided with delicate chains and crystals.
White freckles dusted her dark skin, and a pearlescent ink decorated her cheeks in horizontal stripes, along with another that streaked down the center of her lower lip .
“I’m amazed they can feel such comfort dwelling this close to where souls find judgment,” I said as I met the curious gaze of a pair of passing feather folk.
Their gray and cerulean skin caught the sun in hues of green and blue, and their long, feather-tipped ears were adorned with delicate gold chains and pendants dusting the tops of their feathered shoulders.
Their clothes, unlike the simple garments the village dwellers donned, were a sheer, decadent material that seemed as light as the air that swirled around their sky Islands in Pelagonia.
“I’ve not seen feather folk in these parts in a long time,” Atlas whispered as we continued onward. “Hades has been working hard in the recent centuries, extending his reach across Elythias.”
I arched a brow. “Since when is Hades so friendly?”
“I’m sure Persephone had a hand in it, especially when offering refuge to those fearful of Zeus’ ongoing conflict with Hesperian’s reach.”
The flames within me rippled at the sound of the familiar name, calling to something deep within the lingering, distant memories of a form they once took.
“Zeus is picking a fight with the Wyverns?” I asked.
“You know how he is—always searching for threats in the wrong places, turning a blind eye to where they truly lie.”
The guard escorting us glanced over her shoulder as we reached the base of the steps to Hades’ Palace, eyes briefly narrowed, her tail swaying with each step, her staff tapping against stone to a steady beat.
We ascended, and with each step my mind wandered to the possibilities of what we would see, of what Hades might be like.
“These shall be your quarters for the duration of your stay,” she said as she guided us into a large sitting room, turning to face us.
Her face remained unreadable, just as it had from the beginning, giving no notion of her thoughts or emotions.
I wondered if she realized, like others, what we were, if she harbored the same judgment the goblin had.
Katàratos.
Cursed.
There were some who remembered what befell our kingdom, Lunoscia, and I wondered if the old goblin was truly that old, or if he was one of many who shared the stories of the kingdom that fell to darkness.
I took it all in—the fine furniture dressed in silk and velvet in the richest colors, the windows adorned with thick curtains, fae lights captured in glass sconces along the walls, and just as the city was, the room was filled with all sorts of plant life: flowering vines creeping along the walls, moss clinging to the legs and edges of tables.
“Each of you have a room through those doorways,” she said, pointing toward each of the doors. “Food, wine, and entertainment will be brought to you, and if there is anything else you require, you need only ask the servants.”
I frowned as she stepped past us and through the door, taking hold of the knob.
“You are to remain here until he summons you.”
Two days, we had sat in these rooms.
I sat on the window ledge of our quarters, looking out on the city cloaked under the blanket of night, the lights of the city glittering in the darkness.
A half-smoked roll of Brierleaf hung between my fingers, the hazing effects blurring the edges of my vision—leaving my skin warm and near tingling.
I had wanted so badly to explore in my boredom while we waited to see Hades, to do anything but sit in this godsforsaken suite with nothing to keep my mind off Thalia.
Music filled room, a lulling melody chiming from the harp a wood nymph played on a nearby chaise, the sweet sound accompanied by the angelic voices of the Fae dancers, dressed in sheer chiffon that left little to the imagination.
The gold chains adorning their garments jingled with each sway of their hips, each thrust of their breasts as they twisted and twirled to the music.
One of Atlas’ guards gestured to the male dancer, an intrigued smile curving his lips as the fae male grazed the top of his thigh with his fingertips before sliding onto his lap.
“You should join us,” Atlas said as he plopped down onto the window ledge next to me.
“Tempting,” I said with a dry voice as I lifted a glass of godswine to my lips, the rich, red liquid fruity and strong.
“He’ll call for us soon,” Atlas assured me, turning his attention back to the dancers.
I didn’t answer, my gaze returned to the city.
“Missing someone?” Atlas asked, and I stifled the urge to react to his words, to let on that I had anyone “special”.
“Everything that happens here, stays here,” he said, giving me a knowing smile.
It wasn’t as if Thalia was mine, wasn’t as if I owed her my loyalties in bed. Perhaps it wasn’t just actions that could stay here. Perhaps I could stay here, get away from the pain of seeing her every day, knowing that that was all I would ever get to do.
She wasn’t mine, and she never would be.
I turned my gaze from the window as the dancers approached us.
A water nymph settled her glittering, sapphire eyes on me as her pearlescent blue lips curved into a sultry smile.
The fae lights danced across her glistening turquoise skin with each dip of her hips as she sauntered toward us to the music alongside another dancer—an elf, one equally as beautiful and tantalizing.
“What’s the phrase humans use? When in Rome?
” he whispered before rising to meet the elvish dancer, his hands sweeping out to scoop her up until her legs were wrapped around his waist. Flirtatious laughter slipped from her lips as he buried his face in her neck, peppering her tawny skin with slow, heated kisses.
The water nymph stepped closer, her sultry eyes dusted with powdered pearls, her body adorned with gemstones. She settled between my legs, the swell of her full hips brushing the inside of my thighs as her delicate fingers trailed up my legs, continuing up until they rested against my chest.
The sight of her didn’t stir anything, didn’t spark the flame within my chest to an inferno.
But did it have to?
I lifted my hand to hook my finger under her chin, guiding her gaze to mine. Tilting my head, I took in every detail of her: the way her lips parted, the way her full breasts rose and fell, her nipples taut and visible through the chiffon fabric of her dancing garments.
“When in Rome,” I muttered and leaned in to capture her lips.