5. Chapter 5
Chapter five
Theron
T he air was different up here. It wasn’t muggy or damp. It didn’t smell like the inside of some living thing. It was fresh. Open. Theron couldn’t place the right word on the sensation; it was just good . Relieving. Like he’d been breathing through a mask for twelve years, without realizing it until leaving the Underworld and looking into the light. Breathing in this new atmosphere.
Scanning the area, Theron tried to figure out where to go first. Thanatos had given him very few directions, but he knew which of the gods to target and had a general sense of where to find them. “Head west,” he commanded his fleet of demons, each one chomping at its hooked, chiseled bit to get their clutches on any unsuspecting gods or goddesses. Theron turned to look at each one. There were five in total. Perhaps next time Thanatos would give him more. But this time, he’d gotten this handful of lackeys—these gargoyles come to life, taking on a more sinister presence than any mere statue ever could, especially in the light. What was it about the daylight that made them so much more repulsive?
“What are you waiting for?” he barked. “Go!”
The creatures fumbled to attention. “Yes, sire,” one cawed, quickly scuttling forward. The others followed. Theron trudged behind them, his cape snapping in the hurried wind. The young Hades resisted the urge to look at the scenery around him. It was nice to get something new to look at. Something not gray, pale, or pitch black. But he knew better than to appreciate this world, especially in front of his servants.
He needed to stay focused.
He rushed by the trees stretching to the blue-gray sky, the blossoming flowers, and the fields of strikingly green grass. Everything was so far from death and decay that it made him uncomfortable. He stared straight ahead, striding through his pack of demons and taking the lead toward the first stop on his trek of Olympus.
“Find me the goddess Athena,” he barked, and his demons bowed their heads and fluttered past him. He kept moving, kept staring ahead until they made it onto the outskirts of a village. Maybe they could get some information here that would prove useful. “On second thought,” he said, lifting his gloved hand. His demons halted. “Stand behind me. Let’s see what these gods have to say.”
He strode into the village and scanned the empty cluster of huts. The ground between each straw home was dry and cracked, with only occasional spurts of grass jutting in uneven patches between them and through the middle path through town. “Should we keep moving?” One demon croaked.
“No.” There was not a soul to be seen, but several could be felt. They were all around him. He felt their presence. He’d been taught better than to leave his judgment to his eyes and ears. “There,” he said, pointing to a hut to his right, following the ebbing sensations inside him. Thanatos had told him that gods and goddesses without special titles were basically humans. They possessed no significant powers other than immortality and maybe something mundane. He could feel that the residents of this village were these types of gods. He felt nothing more than living, breathing, immortal souls.
The town was dusty, the ground obviously frequently trampled upon by busy beings going about whatever purposes they deemed important in their trivial lives. He wondered why they were here, what their purposes were. He had a hard time believing any god would be destined for nothing. But that’s what Thanatos had told him, so he’d have to trust him on it.
He kicked open the wooden door of the hut that sat lined up next to identical houses of the same flimsy calibre. As he trudged in, something shuddered down his spine and into the soles of his feet. He staggered back, and a flash of something crossed his mind—something darkly familiar. A splash of crimson. A flash of something black. A cry. An image he couldn’t make out.
What the hell…
He shook the thought from his mind and grunted, swiping the tousled black hair off his face and moving his broad body through the gaping mouth of the tiny hut.
The minuscule residence was barely more than a small room one would use to store cloaks. It consisted of a shabby rug that appeared to have once held color, flat, volume-less cushions spread out on the floor on the far back wall, and a wooden board propped up to be used—Theron presumed—as a table. In a place this cramped, he shouldn’t have a hard time finding any residents, and he felt their presence here.
Slowly, he moved one boot against the powdered dirt floor, then another, until he spotted a curtain the same color as the wall of one spot he hadn’t noticed. He should have, though. The house was cylindrical, and the curtain’s placement added a corner and depth that didn’t make sense with the rest of the hut.
“Check there,” Theron commanded, nodding his head toward the curtain. As if completely starving and just told to eat, the demons swarmed the curtain and ripped it open, revealing a few huddled figures, maybe three or four, crouched together in fear. Theron could only make out the first person, as he was hiding whatever others were behind him. “Take them outside,” he said. “Maybe they’ll tell us what we need to know.”
Whimpers filled his ears as he strode out into the center of town. With every step he took, the whimpers grew louder, putting him on edge. He was used to whimpers of fear. He heard them every time he offered a command or trained for combat with the creatures that lurked in the Underworld. Why did these ones make his stomach turn sour?
“Sire, the villagers,” a raspy voice called out behind him. Theron turned to see a family of three. The god he’d seen before was now facing him, standing up with his back slightly bent backward, his arms stretched out to his sides in an effort to shield his family. There was a goddess behind him, huddled over what appeared to be a child.
An odd feeling swirled in his gut, squeezing his soured stomach. What was he to do now? He needed answers. Thanatos expected that of him. If he didn’t find the information he needed—if he didn’t find Athena or the others— he ’d be the one made an example of when he returned. Thanatos would take it out on him. Punish him. Rightfully so, he supposed, but still, the thought sent chills crawling down his spine.
He focused on the adult male god and stepped forward. With every slow movement, the trembling god pulled his arms back a little more. As Theron approached and his demons snapped and swirled around him, others in town poked their heads out of their doors and windows. Exactly as Theron had hoped.
The god’s dirty face and pale blue eyes stayed on Theron’s, never straying from the young Hades’ gaze. “State your name,” Theron said, his deep voice swelling across the town center. From the corner of his eye, he saw some of the villagers retract into their homes.
“B-Brutus Faire,” the god sputtered. “W-we have done nothing wrong, sir. We j—”
“Quiet!” Theron barked. The woman let out a small yelp as she crouched over her child. Theron’s servants were unaffected by their master’s command and continued circling the small family. “Now,” Theron said, bending to meet the male god’s eyes more evenly, “tell me. Where can I find the goddess Athena?”
The powerless god’s lips sucked in, as if he was forcing himself not to speak. One of Theron’s eyebrows flickered. “I am not a patient man,” he said. “You will tell me now or deeply regret it.”
“I-I don’t know,” the man said. “H-honest to Zeus, I don’t know. We—”
Theron pushed the man aside and looked to the demon on his right. “Take the woman.”
“No!” the man cried, but the demon did as he was told and took hold of the goddess’s arms, peeling her from the young boy who now stood alone, his head on his tiny kneecaps.
“Please!” The goddess cried, reaching for her son. “He’s just a boy. He—”
Theron raised a hand, his gaze shifting to hers. “Quiet! Do not speak unless it is about Athena.”
Tears spilled from the woman’s eyes, dripping down her cheeks. She couldn’t wipe them away because of the demon now holding her by the wrists. Theron’s stomach squeezed, but he didn’t have time to wonder why. He shifted his eyes to the child and focused on the task at hand.
“Look at me, boy, and tell me what you know.” Theron stared at the balled-up child. “Unless any of you can tell me where to find Athena!” he called out to the rest of town.
“I-I don’t know, sir,” a tiny voice rose to his ears. When Theron looked down, the small boy was peering up at him, his large brown eyes welling with tears. The god froze. Something lurched in his chest, and then he heard something again. A shrill cry. A blazing fire blinded his vision. Houses splintered and broke into clouds of dust in the streets. And for some strange, unknown reason, he was afraid, too.
“I know where she is!” A voice called out from another direction. Theron blinked, and the vision was gone. He turned and saw a woman in tattered clothes, with blond ringlets hanging limply by her shoulders. Her hand clutched the brown bodice of her dress.
“ Where? ”
“Across the valley. She lives in the Twisted Wood, about fifty paces in. Her hut can be seen about thirty paces from the west entrance. She teaches pupils out there. It can’t be missed.”
Theron nodded, suppressing a satisfied smile.
“No!” the mother of the child cried out. Theron whipped around and saw one of his demons opening a claw above her son. Another odd feeling curdled in his stomach, and he leapt slightly forward.
“Halt!” he yelled, and the demon stopped. Even in its strange, object-like form, he could tell the demon was confused. When the goddess’s face matched it, Theron tried to salvage the situation. His reputation needed to stay intact. But as he looked down at the innocent child, he couldn’t bear the thought of anything happening to him. A flaw on his part, he presumed. Thanatos would not be happy about it. He needed to think fast. “Th-the child is of no use to us,” he said to his servants. “We have what we need.” He clenched his fists.
What am I doing? What will Thanatos say?
Panic rose in his throat like bubbling acid. “But if any of you so much as get in my way, I will do what I must!” he yelled at the town and then turned toward its edge to follow the path to the Twisted Wood.
He couldn’t bear to look at the child so he kept his face forward, but when the small voice said, “Thank you,” he couldn’t resist shooting a glance back. When he met the boy’s eyes, he heard another cry, but it didn’t match the child’s mother’s or anyone else’s in town, as far as he could tell.
Something sunk in his stomach. He looked at the mother and down at her restrained wrists. “Let her go,” Theron said, and the demon did as it was told. “Let’s go.”
They strode away in silence, the god-to-be of the Underworld doing his best to intimidate the crowd on his way out. His demons were confused, but there was nothing he could do about it now. He’d just have to try harder in the next village if he ran into another situation like this. Be more intimidating. More God-of-Death -like. He had to make it to Athena and—with his power and skillset—force all the information he needed out of her. It shouldn’t be too hard. He just needed to do it right.
When another cry pierced its way through his ears, he jerked back, causing one of his servants to bump into him. Another flash of fire passed through his mind, only this time he could feel the heat—the smoke burning his eyes. He clutched a hand to his head.
What the hell is going on?
He didn’t realize his eyes had shut until he tried pushing the confusing feelings away. When he opened them, he saw his subjects staring at him, their sunken eyes agape.
“Put your heads down!” he barked, then strode on as if nothing had happened, his demon army skulking close behind him.
He had a lead and would think about the rest of this later. He just needed to get the job done and hoped the lead was a good one. There wasn’t much time. Thanatos was watching the clock.