18. Chapter 18
Chapter eighteen
Theron
T he beasts were getting more vicious. This one nearly gutted him today. Thanatos wasn’t going easy on him anymore. Theron didn’t know if it was a punishment for going behind his master’s back, or if it meant his training was finally coming to an end—that the throne was so close to his grasp he could almost feel it between his fingers.
The pain subdued any excitement or hope as he wrapped his bleeding side. He hated doing this. He had no clue how to bandage wounds properly, but Thanatos always made him do it himself. The only time he’d ever gotten help was before his powers had fully come in when he was just a boy, and his master had been mildly afraid Theron would become crippled from infection. Then he’d have to deal with a withered apprentice with no hope of glory. The Titans wouldn’t look kindly on a mentor who had failed at his one job.
Theron didn’t understand how being a god worked. Could he be killed and kept captive in his own kingdom? Then Thanatos would always be his master. For eternity.
He shuddered.
As he stuck the other end of the bandage across his abdomen, he studied the gauze wrapped around his ribcage. That should do it for now . His stomach sank. It was time for him to go back into the dungeon. He had more training to do today. It wasn’t even mid-day.
Corre
Corre’s heart pounded as she raced through the part of the woods she was never allowed to wander. It was forbidden for gods and goddesses to come out here unless they had specific duties and dealings with the Underworld. But Corre had heard enough whispers and rumors from those who had approached the River Styx with their own bargains to know that it wasn’t fatal to enter Tartarus’s throng.
Her heart leapt when she saw the maw at the edge of the wood, leading her one step closer to the Underworld. Before she could rejoice, something invisible hit her chest. The air was shallow in her lungs, and her mind momentarily faltered. It took her a minute to realize it was just an effect of being so close to it—the entrance to Tartarus.
Out of the lush green earth stood a gray, grooved cavern, opening up like a gaping mouth, half submerged in the earth and the other half a hood for the gloomy river that flowed into its gullet. There was a thin border of soil surrounding the cave-like entrance, where a crude rowboat was docked. A hooded ferryman Corre knew to be Charon stood at the bow of the boat, with the black waves ebbing beneath. He was waiting for someone.
This was her chance.
Don’t think. Just do it.
She mustered up the courage and ran to the lanky creature at the edge of the river. As soon as Charon saw the goddess, he let out a groan and opened his skeleton-like hand. Hope rippled through her. She lifted her hand to put into his, assuming he wanted to help her into the boat. He quickly retracted his hand, shaking his head. She peered up into his hood, but his face wasn’t visible. The only thing she could see was what looked like the jaw and teeth of a corpse. The rest of his face was obscured in shadow.
“Payment?” His voice creaked like loose floorboards.
Corre blinked. “Payment?”
“Yes. To travel the river.”
“I-I don’t have pa—”
Charon swung a scythe from his robes and thumped it against the stones beneath Corre’s feet. The sound made a crackling boom. “No payment, no entry.”
“But—” Corre searched her mind for possible pleas to beg him to allow her passage, but she was interrupted by a voice. A female voice. The words it spoke weren’t clear, but something was definitely there.
Corre searched the landscape but saw no one, until a pair of new voices resonated through the trees. Two male voices. It didn’t take long for the owners of these two voices to come into view, and Corre recognized one as Hermes.
“Oh no.” She looked around, panicked, hoping to find a quick place to hide. All the trees around Tartarus’s entrance were thin and withered—not great options to conceal herself behind.
“Psst. Over here.”
Corre turned, once again scanning the trees. She knew she heard it that time. That female voice.
“Here!” the voice said, a little louder. A hand waved from behind one of the trees, then out stepped a young, teenaged goddess with silvery hair that fell to her feet. “Come here!” She was as pale as a flickering star, with hair so light she looked like a silvery beam from the moon.
Corre looked around for Hermes. She didn’t have a choice—it was either get help from this girl or be completely lost. So, she bolted for the tree, which was slightly behind the entrance to the River Styx. When she got to the girl, the young goddess grabbed Corre’s hand and pulled her deeper into the forest.
“What are you doing?!” Corre whispered, panic flopping in her gut.
“Trying to help you!”
Corre let her feet carry her behind the silver-haired goddess as they ran deeper into the forest. She’d never gone this far and didn’t expect the snow that started to fall. Wasn’t she in charge of that sort of thing, or was weather in another god’s jurisdiction? Regardless, it didn’t make sense why the wind was suddenly icy and the trees in the near distance were leafless— that she knew was in her jurisdiction.
Finally, the girl let go of Corre’s hand and dipped behind a boulder. When she emerged, there was a long, black cloak draped over one of her shoulders. “Here, take this. It’s thick and warm, and it isn’t as noticeable as that burgundy one you’re wearing now.”
Corre took the bundled cloth, immediately reveling in the smooth outer layer and woolen interior. “I don’t understand. Who are you?”
The girl smiled and, up close, Corre could see the dazzling pale purple of her eyes. It wasn’t until now that Corre realized just how young the goddess was. She looked to be about twelve or thirteen years old. And there was something ethereal about her. Something mystical.
“I’m Tyche,” she said. “You’re Correlia.”
“How did you—”
“Please. Everyone knows who you are.”
Her stomach dipped. “Great. No pressure.”
Tyche laughed, a melodic chirp. “Don’t think of it like that. Now, come on. Give me that cloak you’re wearing.” She waved her hand greedily, but Corre held on tighter to what she was wearing.
“This is my mother’s.”
Tyche arched a razor-thin brow. “I’m not going to steal it, but you’re trying to get into Tartarus, right?”
She nodded slowly. “Yes . . . but—”
“But nothing. You’ll be easily detectable in what you’re wearing now, and mine is so much thicker. You’re obviously not used to the cold.” Corre still couldn’t get her mind wrapped around this. Who was this girl?
She had no reason to argue. This goddess seemed to know her way around Tartarus, and she had no other choice. She shimmied off her cloak. “You know how to get in? How?”
Tyche flashed Corre a wicked grin. “Let’s just say I get bored a lot.” She shrugged one shoulder as she helped Corre into the thicker cloak. “Zeus lets me do pretty much anything I want, and this is the most interesting part of Mt. Olympus.”
The cloak was as warm as a goose-down blanket and incredibly comfortable. Corre wanted to ask what precisely it was made of but decided on a different, more important question. “I don’t have any money. Charon won’t bring me across—”
“Oh, please. Only dead gods and humans go to Tartarus that way. Are you dead?”
Corre bit her tongue and resisted the urge to show her rising irritation. “No,” she said, nearly growling.
Tyche snickered. “I thought not. Now. There are a couple of back ways to get into the Underworld. One is a lot easier, but you cannot stray from the path I’m going to lay out for you. Okay?”
Corre studied the girl’s face. “Why are you helping me?”
Tyche crossed her arms. “Like I said, I get bored a lot. And,” she flashed that wicked smile again, “judging from the fact that you’re out here, I can tell you’re feistier than you ought to be. I like that.”
“Than I ought to be?”
Her arms flopped to her side. “You know what I mean! Feistier than they want you to be! Zeus and the others! There needs to be more goddesses like us.” She gave Corre an approving nod.
“That’s as good a reason as any, I guess,” Corre said, suppressing a smile. This Tyche was more interesting than most, and she liked their mutual understanding of escaping the mundane. “Okay. How do I get in?”
Tyche grinned. “Yes! I’ve never sneaked someone into Tartarus before! This will be fun!”
Corre’s eyes widened. “What do you mean you’ve never—”
“Oh, come on. It will be fun! I’ve done it myself loads of times! Okay, follow me.” She grabbed Corre’s hand and led her down a narrow path between rows of withered trees. “There’s going to be a new forest up here. It looks completely different than this one, and it’s next to a beautiful field of flowers. There will be a lot of people there, but don’t talk to any of them until you get safely through to the forest that lies beyond the field.”
“What—” Corre started, but Tyche kept going.
“See the horizon up there? That line of trees? That’s where you’ll need to go. There’s a fork in the road with three paths. Don’t take any of them. Instead, go sideways through the forest.”
“Sideways?”
“Yeah, like, cut through the forest horizontally. The paths will be going vertically.” Tyche gestured up and down with both hands and then cut through her invisible map with one hand.
“What will happen if I accidentally go the wrong way?”
Tyche grimaced. “Yeah . . . Don’t do that. You’ll be stuck in Tartarus forever, I think. Unless someone pays some price to get you out.”
Corre gaped at the young goddess. “No way. I can’t do this.” She turned around and started back home. “This was a big mistake.”
“No! It’s really simple. I promise. I can even take you.”
“No thanks.”
“The cloak will help you sneak through, and all you have to do is not take those three paths. And don’t speak to any of the souls you pass until you cut through the forest. It’s really simple. Plus, I don’t think you’ll actually be stuck in Tartarus forever. I don’t think Zeus or the Titans would allow that.”
Corre narrowed her eyes. “Are you sure?”
Tyche grimaced. “ Pretty sure.”
“That’s not reassuring,” Corre said with an agitated sigh and started back to her house. This was a mistake.
“No! Wait!” Tyche swung her body in front of Corre. “I really don’t think you’ll get stuck in there forever. It was mostly a stupid joke.”
Corre’s eyes were still narrowed as she studied the girl’s expression. “Why do you want me to sneak in so badly anyway?”
Tyche swung her head back and groaned. “Because this is so interesting. I want to know what you do next.” She straightened and leapt forward, taking Corre by the hands. “You’re my hero right now. You’re telling everyone, ‘Screw you! I make my own destiny!’ Am I right?”
Corre pulled her hands free. “No. I just . . . wanted to see someone.” She couldn’t believe the words had actually come from her mouth, but the truth was out in the open now.
The silver-haired goddess nodded but, this time, that mischievous grin wasn’t sprawled across her face, and there was nothing sly in her eyes. There was something sad. Her smile was soft. “You’re going to see M—um, Theron, right?”
Corre’s hand tightened on the fabric of the borrowed cloak. “Yes.”
Tyche looked to her feet and didn’t say anything for a while, until she finally looked back up at Corre, with that soft gaze. “That’s a better reason than being bored.” She kicked a small rock by her feet, then looked at the Goddess of Nature again. “Follow the path I described, and you’ll be all right.” Neither of them moved while Corre considered it. Surely she has to be right—no one would be allowed to be stuck in there. And the directions seem easy enough.
Before Corre finished mulling it over, Tyche turned to leave.
“Wait! Where are you going?”
“I’m going back to my place. You can leave my cloak by the boulder I had it behind earlier if you choose not to go in. I’m pretty much the only one who sticks around here.”
Corre hesitated again, weighing what she should do, and then trying her best to push down any doubts or worried feelings of logic. “But I don’t know if I can make it through Tartarus alone.”
Tyche smiled. “Of course you can. Just follow the path. Don’t go to the palace. If you go for the wood, I’m sure someone there will be able to help you. Just don’t talk to any demons or people who wear the Underworld crest. Or damned souls, of course. Okay?”
The girl was so earnest, her words so bold, that Corre couldn’t help but believe them. Something in her knew that Tyche was telling the truth and that she wasn’t setting her up for failure. Maybe it was something in her violet eyes, or the way Corre saw herself in the young goddess. Whatever it was, there was an unspoken agreement between the two of them, though Corre wasn’t sure what it was exactly.
For whatever reason, she knew she could trust her. “Thank you.”
Tyche laughed softly. “No, thank you ,” she said, then swiveled around and disappeared into the chilly wood, evaporating like smoke. Corre wanted to ask why she had thanked her, along with a host of other things, but the sun was rising higher in the sky, and she wanted to pass through Tartarus while the instructions were still fresh in her mind.
She knew where to go now. That was a start.
After an hour or two of wandering, Corre worried she’d made a huge mistake. She might have been able to focus if it weren’t for the unsettling cacophony of moans, groans, and cries everywhere. She’d go mad if she had to spend one more minute in this terrifying wasteland. She already couldn’t hear herself think. She kept trudging forward, though. It was her only option—she was just as much lost going into Tartarus as she would be leaving it.
Finally, she passed the field of souls where the screams were the loudest. Doing her best to avoid eye contact with any creature or soul that brushed against her and shrieked at her was harder than she thought it would be. And agonizing. It was like every soul was reaching out to claw her face—to force her to look at them. She could feel their eyes burning into her, but she resisted the urge to look. She didn’t want to be stuck here for eternity because she’d disobeyed a simple instruction. Just in case that really was a possibility.
Why was she risking such a possible fate to see the God of the Underworld anyway? She shook the thought away. There was no point questioning her choice now. She was already here. She needed to focus and keep going.
The voices soon faded, and Corre could, at last, safely look around. Everything was so desolate here. The trees were withered and bony like the fingers of a corpse beneath a blood-red, hazy sky, and the field was dry and lifeless. It crunched beneath her feet as she hiked to the horizon of trees.
She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw it. That fork in the road. Three paths leading into a forest, with no clear direction. There wasn’t so much as a crude, wooden sign indicating what lay ahead.
“Okay. I need to cut through it,” Corre said, scanning the forest. Up close, it was a thick landscape of black and gray, the trees a dead, artificial creation of muted colors and shadows of reality. There was no clear beginning or end to any of it, except for the roads leading straight into it. The ones she wasn’t supposed to take.
“Which way am I supposed to cut through?” she whispered. The longer she looked, the more nauseous she felt. She took a step forward but was too afraid to go farther. “This was so stupid. I have no idea where to go.”
You have to move , she told herself. You can’t go back now . Just choose—left or right. You can'tgo through.
Slowly, she took a step forward and then pivoted to her right. This is the way Tyche had gestured, right? She moved in her chosen direction, swallowing the fear creeping up her throat, suffocating her every few seconds. She tried not to focus on that part. One foot in front of the other. That was what she had to focus on, even when the cold chill of those shadow-like trees gobbled her up. But then she heard a noise, like a twig snapping. She was allowed to look at whatever was there now, right? She’d passed the field.
A low growl buzzed in her ears. Another twig snapped. Her blood turned cold.
Just before she turned around, a calloused hand grabbed hold of her arm, and a man’s voice cried, “Look out!”
Corre tripped and skidded against twigs and rocks as she fell against the forest floor. The growl rumbled directly above her. Her body froze, but she couldn’t stop the gasp that escaped her lungs at the wolf-like creature. Its fur was gray and matted with red-black blood, and its yellow eyes stared right into hers as it bared its thick, pale teeth.
It all happened in a flash.
First, she saw its jaws unhinging, and then she saw a flash of dark. And then a man pounced on the massive creature with something in his right hand. The two forms fumbled around until the man stuck a blade through the creature’s mouth, and it vanished like a puff of dust. She stared, wide-eyed, at the gray-haired man as he placed his knife back into his belt and walked closer to her. She couldn’t move. “What just happened?” she gasped. “What was that thing?”
“Just a hellhound. They’re everywhere around here.” The man said the words so nonchalantly that Corre couldn’t believe it. She searched his bland clothes for the Underworld crest but found it nowhere. “You’re not from around here,” he said, his fuzzy brows furrowing. “Why are you here?”
She couldn’t speak, but she didn’t have a good explanation anyway. Why was she here?
The man sighed and offered her his hand. “It doesn’t matter. Let’s get you out before you get yourself killed.”
Corre let him help her up, but as she made it to her feet, she said, “I’m not leaving. I came here to see Theron, and I’m not leaving until I do.” She kept her voice steady and firm, recreating the staunch bravery she’d exhibited when facing Theron himself. But just like then, her shaking legs gave her away.
The man looked her up and down. “And why is that?” Corre didn’t know how to answer that. While she was trying to figure it out, the man narrowed his eyes and said, “You think about that while we head out.”
“No!” she cried, immediately wincing.
The man stared at her. “We’re not leaving Tartarus. We’re just going to my place. It’s right down here. You look hungry. And tired. You could use a rest if you’re so determined to make it there.”
Corre cast her eyes to the ground but nodded and followed the mysterious figure through the forest. She couldn’t tell if she was being stupid or strategic by following this stranger. She was awfully trusting today. Maybe ‘reckless’ was a better word. But hehadjust saved her life. That was worth something, wasn’t it?