19. Chapter 19
Chapter nineteen
Corre
“ D id Tyche put you up to this?” the man said as he handed Corre a cup of hot tea. She took it happily and bundled herself next to the crackling fire. Her feet were killing her, and her body ached more now than it had this morning. She was definitely reckless. None of this had been thought through and she was paying for it, but there was no looking back now.
“No,” she replied, taking a sip of the tea. It was scorching hot and burnt her tongue the moment it made contact. She lowered it and let the cup warm her hands instead. “I mean, she did help me. Gave me directions and everything. But I came here on my own.” The man had a permanent scowl on his face, and Corre couldn’t tell if he was a weathered old man who had lived a terrible life and was unimpressed with na?ve, young goddesses trespassing into his forest and making him save their lives, or if he just had that grouchy look all old mortal men seemed to adopt at some point.
But that was what was odd. He wasn’t a god. Gods aged to a certain point, but they never looked old. This was a human. What was he doing walking around and living in Tartarus?
“Hmph,” the man said gruffly, poking the fire with a long stick.
“I hope you don’t mind me asking, but who are you?”
The man gave a half-smile and sat on a log on the opposite side of the fire. He’d implied he lived here, but . . . here ? How did a man—a mortal man—of his age live in such a dingy cave in the middle of the Underworld?
“Who I am isn’t important.” He sifted through a rucksack by his feet, took out an apple, and threw it to her. “Eat up. You don’t know when you’ll eat again.”
“But I brought my own food,” she said, revealing the small basket from beneath her cloak.
“I know, but that won’t last you long. Especially if you want to get past Cerberus.”
“Cerberus?”
“You don’t mean to tell me you planned on going this way to Hades and didn’t even know about Cerberus?” He grunted and sipped from his steaming cup. “Damn that kid. I don’t know if she forgot or was just being her usual self.”
“Tyche was trying to help,” she said, holding onto the only hope she had. “She must have just forgotten.”
“Regardless, you need food to get past Cerberus. He’s the three-headed hound that sits at the edge of Hades’ labyrinth. You’ll have to get in good with that thing and feed him something that isn’t you if you want to get by.”
Corre’s face fell. “Wonderful.” At this point, she wasn’t shocked anymore. She’d be facing certain death throughout the rest of her journey. She was sure of it. What did it matter which types of threats they were? All she hoped now was that she’d make it out again one day.
This was such a stupid idea . I can’t believe I did this.
“Ah, don’t be too hard on yourself,” the man said, stoking the flames with a long stick. Corre looked up.
“How did—”
“It’s written across your face. You’re regretting this little escapade. I don’t blame you. It was really idiotic.”
She scowled, but she knew he was right, and he was helping her more than she deserved. She blew off her tea and took another sip, then bit off a piece of the apple, which was surprisingly delicious.
“Despite how foolish your actions have been, I admire your courage. Not just anyone would traipse into Tartarus.” The old man chuckled. Why did you do it, anyway? You said you wanted to go to Theron. Why?”
The fire crackled at Corre’s knees. She soaked in its comforting warmth and woody smell. “Yes, I came to see Theron. The truth is, I was worried about him.”
His hand stilled, the stick he was holding surrendering to the flames. “You were worried about him?”
“Yes, and I know what you’re thinking. You think I’m crazy and delusional to worry about the God of the Underworld. The fearsome, powerful Hades.” Corre tapped her finger on her mug and collected her thoughts. “But there was something in his expression when I saw him last. He looked . . . scared. I couldn’t help but wonder what his life was like.”
“So you risked your own to find out?”
Corre bristled, keeping her eyes focused on the steaming tea in her hands. “I didn’t realize how stupidly dangerous it would be until I got here.”
“Because you thought Tartarus would be a blissful field of roses?”
“You know what? Never mind. You wouldn’t understand. You’re just some filthy, crazy person, living in this place you’re judging me for entering.”
The man laughed. “I’m not judging you. I’m impressed.”
Her eyes shot up, finding the old man in wonder. “What?”
His gray-blue eyes crinkled at the sides, where they were adorned with wrinkles. “It takes someone with a lot of strength and character to risk so much for someone else. Especially, someone as unworthy of affection as Theron.”
Corre’s gaze dropped to the fire between them. “But that’s the thing. I don’t know who he is or what he’s worthy of.” Her soft voice hardened as she added, “I know he’s the despicable God of Death, so I’m sure he isn’t worth this effort I’ve accidentally thrown myself into. But . . .” Her voice quieted again. “Still. I want to learn more about him. There’s something I don’t know. Something no one knows. I know it.” As soon as her mind welcomed the thought of him, Corre couldn’t stop thinking of the way he’d looked at her when they’d last met, or of the words he’d spoken to her—of how he’d wanted to see her.
When she registered the silence that had fallen between her and the old man, she wondered how much of her notions were naivety and how much was curiosity. And maybe something else.
“I don’t know what it is you’re looking to find out, but I know a couple things about Theron myself if you’re interested.”
“Really?” Her face lit up.
The old man smiled and nodded. “Yes. Though, I don’t know how much of a help it will be to you.”
“Well, what do you know?”
The man’s demeanor shifted into one of unease. “Since you seem to see past the monster in him—or at least are open to the idea—I’ll let you in on a secret: he’s been treated like an animal for over a decade.” He shook his head. “His master loves inflicting pain on him. Makes him feel powerful, I think. Especially since he knows his days left on the throne are numbered. Theron should have taken the throne when he turned 20 five years ago, but Thanatos is having a hard time letting go.”
“Is that allowed?” Corre asked, but the man’s initial statement still hung in the air like something sour. He’s been treated like an animal for over a decade.
“I’ve been trying to figure that out myself,” the man said. “It’s one of the reasons I’m down here. Gathering information and all that.”
“But why do you care?”
The man stared at the shimmering flames. “Thanatos is a monster. He should have never been given the throne, even as a placeholder, but Zeus agreed to the Titans’ demands without a second thought. He didn’t care. No one has ever cared about Theron. That’s why I find you so interesting . . . What did you say your name was?”
“I didn’t,” she said, “but it’s Correlia.”
“Well, Correlia, I hope you find what you’re looking for when you meet him.”
“Wait, that’s it? That’s all you have to say about him?”
“I don’t know what else to tell you. The only thing I know is that Theron should have taken the throne long ago and that Thanatos is abusing his power. And I believe you’re right. I don’t think Theron is a monster, and it’s about time someone cared enough to look.”
The words settled in Corre’s mind. If what this guy said was true, then maybe this mission of hers wasn’t just a stupid, reckless decision after all. Maybe there really was more to Theron than met the eye. And maybe she could be the one to find out what that was.
“I’m glad,” she said, a smile dimpling her cheeks. “I’m glad to know my journey here won’t be in vain.”
“I didn’t say that. It’s incredibly dangerous for you to go. Theron’s still extremely lethal and unpredictable, not to mention Thanatos and all the demons. I can’t, in good conscience, send you out there.”
“Then it’s a good thing you aren’t sending me out there, isn’t it?” she said smugly as she collected her things.
“It’s your funeral, kid.”
She scowled. “You’re sending me a lot of mixed messages, you know? Do you or do you not want someone to find the light in Hades?”
“I don’t want you to risk your life trying to find it. It may not even be there anymore.”
Corre kept her gaze steadily on his for a moment, before replying, “I’m going to find out. And then I’m going home. Now, which way do I go to get there?”
“Are you kidding me? Did you not hear what I—”
“You know I’m going whether you like it or not. So, just tell me: which way to Cerberus?”
The man grunted before throwing one thumb over his shoulder. “Go out the back way and follow the smoke. Cerberus is past the back entrance of the Asphodel Field. Give him the food and follow the labyrinth into Hades’ quarters.”
Corre smiled. “Thank you, sir.” With a jump in her step, she swiveled around and started to leave.
“Wait, wait, wait!”
She cast a glance over her shoulder. “What?”
The man got to his feet and gave Corre one more apple. “Keep this for yourself. Don’t give Cerberus too much of your food. You’re going to need as much as you can keep, and when you get to the labyrinth, make sure you don’t go to the palace. That’s Thanatos’s domain.” He sighed. “For now, anyway.”
“Thanatos. Right.” The current ruler here . The crackle of his voice filled her mind once more, and she wondered how much power he held and what he could do with it to make Hades fear him so.
The grouchy old man grumbled a “yes” and evaded her gaze. After the silence between them grew, she cleared her throat. “Thank you. Wish me luck.”
Then she left, and the man didn’t say another word.
The Asphodel Field was a murky, hazy warzone. The moans chilled her blood and sent gooseflesh skating across her skin. It wasn’t as bad as what she’d endured earlier, but it was close. While these souls weren’t trying to claw their way into her mind and turn her eyes to them like the others, they were still. Living corpses of gods and humans alike. Though they weren’t actual corpses, of course, they were like scattered bones in a graveyard—some standing, some sitting, but all looking at nothing.
It was eerie.
She breathed a deep sigh of relief when she finally entered the smoke-misted labyrinth, but it soon proved to be its own challenge. The deeper she crept through its many tunnels, the darker it became. Eventually, she couldn't see at all, only making it step after step by hearing the clap of each footstep as it echoed across the cavern. Whenever she was unsure of where the next turn led—or what it led to—she slapped her hand against the slick wall and steadied herself as much as the damp rock allowed.
A dim light appeared and Corre was finally able to breathe. Until she remembered what lay ahead. She crept even more slowly as she made it down a set of uneven rock slabs that served as stairs into the mouth of another cave inside the winding gut of the Underworld. The roof of the cavern's mouth leaked a putrid liquid onto her head in clammy plops. They were impossible to avoid in the near blackness, so she did her best to ignore the wet sensation sliding down her neck. It was easier when she heard it.
The sound of a grumble too loud to be from anything the size of a god.
No. This was the growl of a beast.
Cerberus.
Corre's heart raced as she crept the last few steps into the creature’s lair, and then it stopped completely. Her eyes widened at the enormous canine, curled up in slumber. Its fur was as black as Theron's long, inky hair—maybe even darker. It was like staring into a shadow with three heads reassembling that of a pup's, only each skull was easily a foot taller than Corre and ten times as wide.
Its long exhales puffed against her face as she inched closer, carefully placing one foot in front of the other as she ignored the unsettling scent of meat on the canine's breath. Its growling rumbled the cavern's floor with each exhale, sending prickling needles up Corre's spine.
Until it stopped.
The blood drained from her face as the beast opened one eye. And then another. And then the other four. Its massive body rose without taking any eye off of her. Its heads craned to stay close, examining the goddess at its thick, enormous paws.
The beast bared its teeth, and Corre swiftly reached into her pack to take out bread, fruit, and cheese. She panicked as grapes and a small bun rolled out of her trembling hands, especially as the creature's growling intensified into an ear-splitting bark. Its jaws unhinged just before she grabbed hold of the assortment of food and hurled as much as she could at one of its heads. To her immense relief, the food landed on the purple tongue of the middle head.
The head bounced in surprise, floppy ears flapping, and then its tongue furled around the food and pulled it into its throat. The head's eyes closed in delight, and it licked its black lips. The adjacent heads stared in envy before turning to Corre in anticipation. She swiftly took most of the remaining food and tossed it at the other two heads. The first one barked—that middle, awaiting head—so Corre did the only thing she could think of. She leapt forward and scratched its belly.
Cerberus paused. And Corre's heart froze again.
Thumping shook the cavern, and she took cover with her hands above her head. She squeezed her eyes shut, ready to face her death, until she heard the soft whimpers once the thumping stopped. She looked up at the happy creature—that middle head happily staring down at her with a tongue hanging out of its mouth. She looked back down at its night-dark belly and reached out and scratched it again. This time, when the thumping started, she didn't close her eyes.
Laughter escaped her lips when she realized what it was. She scratched it more, lending another hand to its delight. The thumping intensified—the loud glee of a happy dog's wagging tail.
Theron
Black liquid soaked into the stone as the creature’s head flopped to the floor, Theron’s sword clattering alongside it. He did it. He’d killed it. The beast that had nearly ripped him to shreds earlier that day. He’d destroyed it in record time.
Dropping to his knees, Theron let his body fall onto the stone-scattered ground. He didn’t care how coarse the dungeon floor was; he let the chilly stones cool his hot, sweat-soaked skin. He was exhausted and in a great deal of pain. His torso was wet with blood, and he knew he needed it re-bandaged, but he didn’t have the stomach to stare at the gaping wound right now. He wanted to rest. To recover. To eat.
To eat.
His stomach cramped. He couldn’t remember when he’d eaten last, but it had been long enough. Thanatos had taken away his meal privileges. It was for his own good. He needed to be taught a lesson for what he’d done. He was used to this type of punishment, but never before had he been tasked with killing an extraordinary foe on an empty stomach, dizzy from exhaustion.
Was it worth it? he wanted to ask himself when he got to his feet, and she was the first thing that surfaced in his mind. How was it that she was still the only thing he could think of when he was this tired and ravenous and in so much pain?
Theron picked up his sword and limped to the dungeon doors. He needed to shower. To re-bandage himself and then look for any scraps of food he could sneak without Thanatos suspecting anything. He knew he shouldn’t go against his master, but his vision was blurring. He needed to eat.
He stumbled down the passages of the labyrinth, trying his best not to crumple onto the floor. That was the last thing he wanted Nikias to see. He’d never hear the end of it. Especially from Thanatos.
“Theron?” A voice pooled through his ears. He froze.
Was that . . .? No.I’m hearing things.
He kept moving, willing his body to keep going long enough to fall into his room unnoticed. But then he heard it again.
“Theron?”
He whipped around and stumbled back, falling into the wall behind him. He blinked over and over, wiping the sweat from his eyes and focusing his blurred vision. No matter how many times he focused, the freckled goddess in a long, dark cloak didn’t disappear. It was her.
“Correlia?” he mumbled, but his vision was still blurry.
“Are you okay?” she asked, but it was muffled like he’d been submerged in water. “You’re hurt!”
A ringing sounded in his ears, and he felt his legs give out. He heard her gasp when his body fell to the floor, but when his head didn’t hit the hard stone, he looked up and saw that she’d partially caught his fall.
It was really her. He wasn’t imagining things. “Correlia,” he said again, and suddenly the fear of Nikias catching them was far worse than the physical pain shooting from his side and gnawing at his empty stomach. He quickly stumbled to his feet, Correlia steadying him the whole time. “Quick—come with me,” he said, slurring his words as he grabbed her hand.
“Where are we—”
“Shh! Don’t speak!” he managed to say, fighting through the pain as he spoke. “We’re going to my chambers. No one can know you’re here.”
Despite himself and everything plaguing him—the pain, the hunger, the fear, and the fatigue—Theron smiled.