by James Hunter
“Euryale!” I called out, turning slowly, drawing my sword, and searching for some sign of the snake-haired woman. “Thanks for saving us, but a word of warning. If you screw around with us, what we did to the dino-dicks, we’ll do to you!”
There was a rustle of movement and a huge woman, twelve feet tall, slithered down from the bough of an ancient oak, flopping into the river with a soft splash. Like the nagas we were so used to fighting against, she had a thick serpentine tail instead of legs, but that was pretty much where the similarities ended. Glossy, blue-black raven-like wings sprouted out of the back of Euryale’s gauzy black gown. The dress—flimsy and far too sheer—revealed way too much scaly coppered-colored skin for my taste.
Gross.
Covering her head was an inky-dark veil that twisted and writhed from the snakes that I knew were coiled on top of her head. Boar’s tusks poked through the lacy face covering, which moved as she spoke. “Greetings, War God. I witnessed your battle with the Nyx Guardians from afar, but saw you needed my aid against the Stymphalian Omegas. Why would you threaten one who has aided you, hmm?” She raised a grotesque hand, each finger a slithering, black-eyed pit viper.
Yep, this was totally normal. Not weird at all.
My Amazons regrouped around me. It seemed we’d escaped one fight only to be thrust into another.
“Don’t think of it as a threat,” I said to the last of the Gorgon sisters, “think of it as a warning. So far I haven’t had a warm welcome from the things on Lycastia, so I want to know why you would help us.”
Euryale waded out of the river, movements slow and sinuous. “And I wonder why you would brave the dangers of Nyx when you need to protect Ares’ sigil in the grand temple above? Curious no, darling? You see, I escaped here to be alone. To be free from the affairs of the gods, so I cannot help but wonder if you have come to violate my solitude, hmm?”
Yeah, Jacob, are you going to violate her? Are you into snake chicks, too? Loxo messaged.
“Uh, not violating anything or anyone,” I said to both the Gorgon and my Huntress. “We have business in the Cave of Nyx. So, let us pass, go back to doing what snake people do, and we’ll be fine. Though thanks for the assist with the, uhh”—I waved a hand through the air, searching for the right word—“the Omega bird things,” I finished weakly.
Smooth as ice.
My Amazons—save for Loxo and Sophia, who were tucked away among the shadows—surrounded the Gorgon, all their weapons ready. Given half a chance, Loxo and Sophia would be backstabbing Medusa’s little sister before you could shake a rattlesnake.
Euryale glanced around at the warriors encircling her like a closing noose. “I, darling, am not like my sisters, who gathered up all the glory and fame. They wanted to be remembered for grand deeds and terrible tortures, but I am of a different sort. I left the outer world to be alone and enjoy my immortality in peace. And yet nevertheless, the war between the war god and Hades has reached my doorstep. I can guess why you are here. You’ve come in search for the Temple of Cronus, no?”
I paused, mind whirling. Technically we were searching for the scythe, but I didn’t intend to tell her that. Finally, I nodded. “That’s the plan. Don’t suppose you’d like to point us in the right direction?” I asked, quirking an eyebrow.
“Yes, actually,” she replied, bobbing her veiled head. “And you will very much need my help if you are to succeed.” She paused and canted her head to the side. “I know the way in, which is no small thing.”
I do not trust her, Myrina sent.
We should pump her for info, Phoebe sent. We can’t trust her, but we can use her.
Loxo’s laughter showed up as an LOL in our message system. Ha, pump her and use her. Phrasing. Walked right into that one.
Loxo, not now, I sent sternly.
So touchy, War God, she replied, voice just a tad reproachful.
“Okay,” I said to the Gorgon, eyes narrowing. “If you want to help us, let’s chat. I want to know exactly what you get out of this deal.”
“Not here,” Euryale replied. “I will have you as a guest in the Temple of the Gorgon, south of here, near the Spears.”
She had to mean the mountainous stalagmites we’d seen near the boiling wastelands to the south.
From Myrina, I do not like that idea at all.
It’s not like we don’t have the time, Phoebe sent. I say we go and see what she has to say. Besides, it’ll give us all a chance to rest. Our crew needs to recuperate, so let’s try not to pick another fight if we don’t have to, sis.
I agree, Asteria added, prowling forward in the form of a sabertooth. The pride is weakened. We bide our time, observe this new prey. Strike only when we have advantage. She narrowed her eyes and sniffed. Though I will avoid her meat—she smells rotten. Spoiled.
I considered all this, knowing the final decision was up to me. I crossed my arms and shook my head. “Nope, lady. Not until you give me at least one good reason to trust you. Seriously, Gorgons and Hades go together like gamers and Mountain Dew, so for all I know you’re leading us into an ambush.” I uncrossed my arms and lifted a single finger. “Just one reason.”
“Reasons, reasons, reasons,” the Gorgon muttered. “Fine. I saved you from certain death. That should be reason enough, darling. And even if it were not”—she gestured toward the veil with her slithering, snaky fingers—“I came to you hiding my stone-gaze. More than that, clearly, you do not understand the dangers of Nyx, nor do you fully understand the nature of the Temple of Cronus, and so you will never reach it. You need me. Though to prove myself true, I swear to you on the River Styx, on this day, you will come to no harm while you are with me.”
Sophia let out a soft whistle.
Shit, wow, she did the oath thing, Phoebe messaged. That’s like hardcore for us Greek types. Not even a god can break a promise like that.
“Yeah, all right,” I said after a moment. “Lead the way. I’ll follow from above.”
“No,” Euryale hissed, muscles suddenly tense. “That is what brought the Stymphalian Omegas in the first place. They own the air, and any flight is strictly prohibited. Until you leave the Cave of Nyx, your Beastiamancer should stay grounded. Even I do not fly long distances lest the fury of the flying death find me. We were lucky you only attracted a scouting party or we would likely all be dead.”
I nodded. Well, that solved that mystery. It seemed if we stayed out of their skies, the Omegas would leave us alone.
“You mentioned the Nyx Guardians,” I said. “Those were the dinomythics we fought, right? What’s their story?”
“Well aren’t we the curious little thing,” the Gorgon answered. “They were crafted by ancient Hephaestus himself—the first wardens of this place, to keep the curious out and Zeus’s prisoners in.” She sighed and shrugged. “Many eons have passed, however, and Hephaestus is long dead. Murdered by none other than the previous god of war. And now the Guardians attack whoever they will. Wanton, vile creatures. I have walls to keep them out as you will soon see. Come.”
She turned, offering us her back—a show of trust—and headed for the trees.
The Gorgon led the way as my Amazons and I followed behind her in a tight knot. Asteria remained a tiger, licking at her gore-splattered face. Phoebe trudged along between Thunderfoot and Buttercup. We found ourselves on a trampled path that hugged the river until we came to a crumbling stone bridge which we crossed, heading southeast from where we’d entered.
We walked for what felt like hours.
As time passed, I noticed the shadows cast by the crystals grew shorter until there were nearly no shadows at all. Somehow, it seemed like our sun was hitting the crystal cluster, and so this underground kingdom would have both day and night. Not sure how that worked since time had stopped in the outside world. I’d have to ask Cronus once we reached him. If we reached him. I glanced to the ever-shifting temple of the northern hilltop. That was his pad, I had no doubt, and I couldn’t help but wonder what intel our new
snaky friend had about it.
She said without her help, we’d never get inside.
Looking at the place, I kinda believed her.
I was surprised Euryale had come so far, especially without flying, and I asked her about it.
The Gorgon didn’t respond right away. “It is one of the reasons why I wanted to aid you,” she replied eventually, being as cryptic and unhelpful as humanly—well, Gorgonly—possible. “I will tell you all once we get to my temple. Patience, War God. Patience.”
We encountered more prehistoric creatures as we trudged, and it wasn’t just dinosaurs that had found a home in the lost world. Sloths the size of cows watched us as from thick tree boughs, munching the greenery slowly. Huge buffalo-like beasts darkened a clearing, and they too watched us walk. As we moved past them, Asteria growled, obviously wanting a little snack.
She controlled herself, however, and left the plain to stride through a thick forest filled with all kinds of ancient trees. We moved through a stand of trees that looked a bit like redwoods, but weren’t, only to come to a copse of broad-leafed behemoths surrounded by large waving ferns. The Cave of Nyx would’ve been a botanist’s ultimate dream or their most terrible nightmare. The forest didn’t make sense, but then neither did anything else around here.
We left the jungle, following the path until we came to rolling grasslands. Rising in front of us were the jet-black stalagmite mountains Euryale had referred to as the Spears. I paused and glanced up, wiping the sweat from my brow with the back of my hand.
Interesting. At one point, there had been matching stalactites in the ceiling far above, but they’d fallen and crumbled around the base of the Spears. New stalactites were forming as water continued to drip down onto the spiked mountains in a constant flow. Sniffing the air, I caught the faint scent of seawater. Could the water be from the Mediterranean Sea? Maybe, or it could’ve been piss from Gaia’s toilet.
No way to tell, and the Cave of Nyx wasn’t playing by anyone’s rules.
A half-mile in front of the Spears was the Temple of the Gorgon. The white marble columns and carved sandstone blocks of a Greek temple lay inside a ring of massive redwoods lashed together to form a giant palisade that encompassed the outpost. A huge gate, big enough to admit a fucking T. rex, stood open as though waiting for us. Men in armor patrolled the top of the battlements, though calling them men was playing pretty fast and loose with the English language. -Man-like, at best.
We followed Euryale through the gates, which slammed shut behind us.
Immediately, we were surrounded by velociraptor centaurs. The creatures each had a human head, torso, and arms, but their skin melted and blended into the scales of a lizard at their waist. Dressed in leather, they had the common Greek weapons we’d seen so often before—spears, javelins, bows, and xiphos. But included in their arsenal were their feet. Each foot had a six-inch-long razor-sharp length of bone. Yep, because that was totally a thing that should exist.
Velocentaurs—at least that’s what I labeled them in my head.
Whatever they were called, the archers aimed their arrows at us as did those with javelins. Every velocentaur in the city, it seemed, had their weapons pointed directly at us.
A trap after all.
So much for the power of oaths …
FOURTEEN
The Enemy of my Enemy
Myrina and the rest of my Amazons readied themselves to go nuclear on the dagger-footed centaurs around us.
Before they could, Euryale called out, “Hold your fury, Servants of the Last Gorgon! These are my honored guests.” She lifted a writhing hand, stilling the restless troops. “You will show them no harm.”
Hissing and spitting swept through the ranks of the velocentaurs, and it sounded like they were supremely disappointed. Even so, arrows relaxed on creaking bows, javelins returned to quivers, and short swords were sheathed. I breathed a sigh of relief and glanced around. Strange homes dotted the side of the redwood wall. Grasses woven together, covered with mud, made ball-shaped nests all across the enormous palisade. Rough wooden walkways crisscrossed the wall, connecting the homes to each other and to the high battlements at the very top.
I watched as lizard-men used their powerful legs to leap from ledge to ledge, making their way up and down the walls like reptilian billy goats. Some darted inside the holes in the huts while others leapt out, falling like stones, only to land on another walkway twenty feet or more below. Yep, part human, part velociraptor, part goat—that was the only combination that made sense. And there were hundreds of them. Euryale had her own army …
Hopefully, we wouldn’t have to fight it. I mean, one hundred to one were shit odds, even if I was a living deity.
Euryale—back straight, head high, towering over her minions—slithered across the lush grass to the base of her temple. It was an acropolis-like structure sitting above courtyards of gardens and fountains. An intricate statue of Euryale loomed over a large, pink-marble fountain; sparkling water jettisoned from her outstretched palm and splashed down into the basin below. Surrounding the pool were beautiful statues of men and women—all with snake or reptilian features—staring up at the Gorgon figurine in total adoration.
Definitely a touch of the ol’ narcissism. Yeesh. What in the hell was it with these Greek deities?
Off to the left, in a sprawling paved courtyard, sat a red-roofed pavilion with lush divans and tables overflowing with food and jugs of wine.
My Amazons and I were quite a spectacle; there were ten of us not counting the mounts. But the pavilion was large enough to accommodate us all. Buttercup drank from the fountain and the bull nibbled at a lawn of lush grasses. Asteria shifted into her human form and slipped on a white dress, which Euryleia tossed to her from Buttercup’s saddlebag. Phoebe hit the fold-up option in her mech and then limped into the pavilion. We all took our seats on thick cushions.
I reached for a big cluster of grapes. We’d brought food and supplies with us, all tucked away in Phoebe’s mech, but there was no point wasting our limited provisions. Besides … I was hungry right then, and if there was one thing the Marine Corps had taught me, it was to eat and sleep whenever an opportunity presented itself. There was no telling when we’d get another chance.
But an instant before the grape passed my lips, Myrina’s hand shot out, calloused fingers wrapping tight around my wrist. Think, Jacob, she might have brought us here to poison us. Antiope, test all the food.
I nodded. Thanks, Myrina, you’re totally right.
Myrina paused and gave me a rare smile. Of course I am.
Antiope went through the dishes, sampling them, one after another. She ate the grapes, tried the olives in peppered oil, sampled the dense cheeses, nibbled at a collection of breads, tasted the sun-dried tomatoes, and devoured quite a bit of the vegetables marinating in a spicy-looking sauce.
The Gorgon sat down in a grand chair crafted out of red silk and bright gold—a throne just as tacky and ornate as the one her sister Stheno had used. She reached for a silver goblet of wine with her snake-fingered hands.
As Antiope continued her sampling, I eyed the Gorgon. Honestly, I could see how having snake fingers could be really convenient. One serpent wrapped itself around the goblet, and when she lifted it to her veil, another snake lifted the lace with its mouth so she could slide the cup between her tusks and drink deeply. Apparently, there was a lot to maneuver when you were a monster looking to wet your whistle—at least if you were entertaining company and wanted to be polite about it.
“Eat and drink,” Euryale said as she lowered the goblet, “and we will discuss why I have chosen to aid you.”
You feel okay, Antiope? I sent.
Yes, War God, I do not believe the food, nor the wine, is poisoned.
I gave a quick nod, and we dug into the grub. I drank a ton of water but went easy on the wine. Myrina didn’t. That woman could get her drink on better than a young PFC fresh to the Fleet.
Shadows lengthened as the sunligh
t reflecting from the ceiling crystals moved from noon toward early afternoon.
As we ate, Euryale spoke. “You are not the first interlopers to break the peace of my solitude. Others came, stinking of death, and they slaughtered one of my scouting parties. My servants are dear to me, as they have been with me for a long while now.”
“Stinking of death, you say?” I asked. A bad feeling struck my gut. And it wasn’t the humus. “Let me guess … A giant douche bag in bone armor with a big green glowing mace?”
“I know nothing of a douche bag”—she spoke the word strangely, testing it on her lips—“but the rest?” She nodded. The snakes under her veil squirmed. “Yes, a necromancer in the service of Hades, no doubt. He brought with him imps on Cerberi, vine-covered golems, and other strange creatures, some living, many dead—animated with the power of his dark sorcery.”
“Earl Necro Earl,” I muttered. “He’s down here, probably looking for the Crystal Scythe, just like we are.”
Myrina glared at me. Do not think Euryale is our friend. We must not grow complacent. You just told her why we are in the Cave of Nyx, and she can use that power against us.
Phoebe agreed with her. She’s right, Jacob. Go easy on the info dumping.
A few of Euryale’s snake fingers fanged into olives, and she lifted them to her mouth. More serpents lifted her veil so she could nibble. “Oh, so you do not seek the god of time, but the weapon he used to castrate his father. Regardless, darling, to find the one you will need to find the other and you will do neither. Not without my assistance. Accessing his temple is nearly impossible.”
“We saw it from the air,” I remarked before popping an olive into my mouth. “But it’s not about getting there, is it?”
