"How shall I do that?"
"See that horn?" Sorath pointed out a pile of weapons and trumpets stacked against a wall. "Shove it up your ass and make music!"
The slave hesitated.
"Or, die in an amusing manner, I care not which," Sorath hissed.
<<<>>>
Bune followed the imp down the black passageway. Bune was in his form as a human, wearing a lustrous green waistcoat, rich green breeches, and green leather boots.
As they neared Sorath's chamber, two demons ran past, bearing a stretcher. Laying on his stomach was the slave, his tunic lifted above his hips, and a trumpet was lodged deep in his backside.
Bune and Themis stopped to watch them as they passed.
"Sounds like the boss is in a good mood, finally. Last time, the slave died with the trumpet impaling him all the way to his chest," Themis explained as they continued to the master's bedroom.
Themis waved Bune to pass ahead of him and followed the dragon demon into the bedroom.
Bune bowed and genuflected. "Sire."
"Make preparations to strike the surface at the last wormhole. We can take the Furies in a single stroke, now that their mother is dead." Sorath was seated in his bed, leaning against several cushions. The bandage on his shoulder had orange stains, blood oozing through the layers of cloth.
"Sire, we are not ready for any surface attack, and I should point out, your attack against Gaia was premature, you went without back-up, and it appears she was carefully prepared," Bune lectured. "The doctor advised me that your wounds were produced by an iron weapon, which is deadly to our kind. Unlike the old woman, Tisiphone and Alecto are seasoned warriors, we'd take far too many causalities. It's too risky, until you are thoroughly healed."
"Bullshit! I'll bring reserves, maybe a dragon, THREE dragons! I will go deal with them," Sorath bellowed. He tried to raise up, lifting his arms to attack Bune when he felt the stitches in his left shoulder begin to rip. He froze and suddenly fell back to the bed, the gauze on his shoulder now soaked through with orange blood.
"On your way out, please ask the doctor to come back in," Sorath said through gritted teeth.
"If only to sedate you, sire," Bune muttered as he swept out of the room.
"And drink, I need more strong drink!" Sorath ordered.
"Yes, sire," Themis bowed his head. He turned to leave when Sorath cleared his throat. He turned back to his master. "Yes, sire?"
"If I'm to stay bed ridden, see to it I have the proper company." Sorath said.
"One nymphet? Yes, sire."
"Make it three. Three of the wood elves, they're quite agile," Sorath suggested.
Themis bowed and left the room. Sorath tried to move and was hit by a wave of pain. His eyes rolled into his head as he grimaced.
CHAPTER THREE
Dan arrived at the police station later than usual. As he walked to the entrance, he stopped to look at the displays and flowers honoring Kelsey, the young officer who was brutally murdered not over three days ago. Flowers, photos of the young woman, and a lot of glass candles that were left burning.
Dan had knelt to read a few of the messages, then he stood and went into the building. He went past the reception desk, nodded at the older cop manning the front. He took a moment to recall the cop's name. Sam. Sam Kennedy. He waved at the older man, then went down the hallway to the Homicide Division. San Marin wasn't big enough to allow a detective to specialize, but they put up a sign, anyway. All the cops investigated whatever was needed to be investigated.
Stifling a yawn, he slowly made his way through the main bull pen of the department, aiming for his small office just past the main room.
As was usual for Dan, he was in a dress shirt and black slacks, no tie. He wore his gold shield hung from a small chain around his neck, his Glock in a black holster on his right hip.
No outward signs of sleepless nights until you looked at his face. Gaunt, haggard, blue bags under his eyes. He'd been up all the previous evening driving around the town, looking for Megaera. He'd even sat parked on the street where she lived, hoping beyond hope she'd make an appearance. No sign of her at all.
Just as he opened his office door, Jones stood up and rushed over.
"Buddy," Jones started.
Dan held up a hand and sighed.
"I was up all night. I all but covered every inch of the city," he said as he unlocked the door and entered the cramped office.
"I was going to say; her description went out on to all the agencies in a fifty-mile radius." Jones followed Dan into the office and sat in one of the two chairs that faced his desk. "No one has seen her, but they're all out looking."
Dan sat and leaned back in his chair, his eyes fixed on a corner of the ceiling.
"Man, you got it bad," Jones observed. "Any sleep at all?"
"No." Dan shook his head. "I must have downed an entire pot of coffee to just have the energy to drive in this morning."
"If you can stay awake long enough, I need to bring you up to speed on the investigations we got going on," Jones said, wryly.
"Sure, get everyone in here," Dan said.
Jones stood and left the room. He swiftly returned with Hansen, another plain clothes detective on the case, a field tech named Montgomery and the lab tech, Dylan. It was getting quite crowded in the small office.
"Alright, what do we have so far?" Dan asked to the room.
Hansen, a stocky, blond detective, consulted his small notebook. "I checked out several buildings in the area, looks like our killer just used the motel we've already processed."
Montgomery, a skinny man wearing a knit shirt with an SMPD and an image of a badge embroidered on the chest, held up a small file folder. "The results from the motel room. The tape residue is the type used by most duct tape manufacturers. So common, we can't even begin to narrow down what brand the guy used to drape off the room."
"I've completed the DNA testing on Bank's body, nothing was found. However, his DNA does match the foreign DNA we recovered off of both victims, which looks pretty solid for him being the killer," Dylan told the room.
Jones nodded his head, then added, "With the photo evidence and now the DNA, all we have to do is find the good Samaritan who nailed him to the tree."
"My confidential informant I spoke to yesterday had no clue," Hansen said. "Word on the street is that it was a woman who was really angry at this guy."
"Yeah, whoever did that to Banks sure had a grudge," Jones said. He noticed Dan with another faraway look. "You ok, Dan?"
Dan shook himself and nodded.
"Anyway, we feel certain it was the work of more than one person, male or female," Jones continued. "We've canvassed the entire area, and no one can recall seeing or hearing anything unusual."
"Of course," Dan commented. "Anything else brewing?"
"We all got the word that a friend of yours is missing," Hansen said. "I've got patrol officers out, combing the area. The weird part is, you gave a wrong address in the report. There's just a vacant lot at that address."
"What? No, I was there, the address is right," Dan objected.
"I went by there as well," Jones pointed out. "Dan, it's just a vacant lot. Has been since I've lived here."
Dan narrowed his eyes. "Alright. Anything else? Any robberies or break-ins?
"No, all quiet," Hansen said.
"Ok, thanks for the briefing. Is McKenna finished with the postmortem on Banks?"
"I'm expecting the report this afternoon," Jones said.
"Okay," Dan said, fatigue and irritation showing in his voice. "Get me the report as soon as she's done."
Everyone nodded and began to move out. Dylan hung back and stayed by the door.
"Yeah?" Dan asked.
"I did some additional testing on the bottle you left me," Dylan said, moving back into the room. He stopped by Dan's desk.
"Okay, what did you find out?"
"Well, it's a lot older that I thought. You see, carbon-14 is inaccurate to date p
ottery, so I had a friend down at UCLA try a sample, and she used thermoluminescence to try to date the bottle."
"You did all that?"
"She owed me a favor, and I drove down yesterday."
"All right, go on," Dan felt the fatigue lifting.
"Got an unusual result." Dylan paused for dramatic effect. "The amphora dates to approximately 5th millennium before the common era."
"How old?"
"At least 7 thousand years old, boss." Dylan announced, with a slight smile on his face.
"Are you sure about that?" Dan sat up.
"Yes. And my friend wanted to know, really badly, where the amphora was acquired," Dylan said softly.
"She might have picked it up in her travels, no telling where," Dan said. "You can keep the bottle, I have another one."
"Right," Dylan said and turned to leave. He was blocked by a tall skinny man, dressed in a black suit. "Oh, excuse me."
"No problem," Thanatos said. "Excuse me, I intended to knock."
Dan stood up as the tall man entered his office. "Junior?"
Thanatos maintained his presence in the normal world by running a small mortuary. Most people knew him as "Junior."
"Officer Lanahan," Thanatos said.
"What can I do for you?"
"I bring news of your friend, Megaera," Thanatos explained. He swiftly held up a hand. "No, she's not in my funeral home."
Dan let out a sigh of relief as he reached out to shake Thanatos' hand. When they touched, the room flipped, then disappeared.
Dan froze. He was afraid to look around. Thanatos just winked, and they were standing in a bright and open room.
"Yes, to answer your question, yes, I am one of Them. An Immortal," Thanatos explained. "Don't worry, you will not be missed, as I will take you back at the exact moment we left."
"Okay," Dan said, in a tone that meant it was anything but okay. "You said you had news about Megaera?"
"She was kidnapped, spirited away as you might say, by either Sorath or one of his lieutenants. My sources inform me that she's being held in the Tartarus prison blocks."
"What?" Dan was still trying to process the sudden change of locations.
"That's not the really bad news," Thanatos continued. "Gaia was attacked by Sorath and is pretty bad off. Her wounds won't heal until we find a healer."
"How can I help in that?" Dan asked. "Megaera is the only... whatever she is, that I know. I don't know healers, except for a doctor."
"A doctor can't help. She needs Megaera. Her sisters need her. You need to go find her and bring her back here."
"What? Are you suggesting a SWAT raid on the Underworld?" Dan joked.
"Not practicable," Thanatos said, ignoring the joke. "Stealth is needed."
Dan looked around and then at Thanatos. "Just who are you?"
Thanatos produced an old, thick, leather-bound book and opened it to a page near the end. He gave the heavy book to Dan. His finger tapped a wood cut illustration of a skeleton wearing a dark hood and carrying a scythe. Dan looked back up to Thanatos, then again at the illustration.
"You've put on weight since this was drawn," Dan said, dryly.
"You're needed, Dan. Gaia is asking for you, and Tisiphone pretty much ordered me to fetch you."
"Why? What can I do that someone, like yourself, can't?" Dan argued.
"Being a mortal, you can move about the Underworld a lot easier than one of the immortals. I would attract attention, and Megaera's sisters need to stay on the surface to prepare for what may be a futile battle, especially if Megaera isn't returned," Thanatos said.
"But how can she be held? I was told that no Fury can be held in a prison," Dan argued. "Or words to that effect."
"Ah, but, since Megaera is pregnant, with your child, I might add," Thanatos argued. "She is weakened, almost a mortal herself."
"So, you're saying all this is my fault?"
"No, but the situation isn't exactly helped by her condition." Thanatos sighed. "I know you've been out all night, combing the streets looking for her, and you have even involved your police department. None of you can find her on the surface, you need to go find her in the Underworld, Dan. She needs you, and the fate of the entire world rests in you finding Megaera."
"Not like there's any pressure. Isn't that being a bit melodramatic?"
"Not at all. Once you know what the demon Sorath is, what he really wants, you can see that there is a real danger if he manages to be victorious. Not immediately, but in a few years, at the most, he will trigger the final battles, what you humans call, Armageddon."
"What does a demon want with all the humans dead?"
"You'll each get sucked into the Underworld, and become his slaves," Thanatos warned. "Or something to that effect."
"Until a few days ago, I didn't even realize immortals existed, much less gods and goddesses," Dan confessed. "I haven't believed in a god since I was twelve."
"Honestly, neither do I," Thanatos admitted, then added, "but here we all are." He gently put a hand on Dan's shoulder. The moment he touched Dan, the scenery shifted, dissolved, and did a gut-wrenching twist, and he was back in his office. Thanatos was gone.
Dan stood a moment, letting his stomach settle. It felt as if his ears were blocked and he'd taken a ride on a fast-moving merry-go-round.
He sat behind his desk and closed his eyes. After a few seconds, he opened one eye to see if the room was still spinning. When he relaxed, he noticed a small white card on his desk. He picked it up and the front simply said "Moores & Son". He turned it over and saw handwriting.
In perfect script, it read: "You are Megaera's only chance. Help her and help the world." It was signed: "Junior."
Dan sighed and closed the card. He glanced at his computer screen's clock. Not even a minute had passed since the meeting with Jones and the others. He knew that far more than a minute had passed. He put the card into his satchel and stood up. He crossed to the door and looked out at the bull pen. Jones was talking with another detective at one desk, Hansen was on the phone at his desk, everyone was busy.
Dan went down the hall to the Chief's office.
After a ten-minute conversation, Dan left the Chief's office and went back to his office, sat behind his desk, and started stuffing file folders into this satchel. He stopped to look around. It was quiet, not a lot going on in the department, nothing to do except wait on the report from Sandra, the coroner.
He felt uneasy about what he heard from Junior. Then to find out that tall, gentle man was a Grecian Immortal.
Dan turned to his computer and did a search for "Thanatos". He read a few articles and learned that Thanatos was a god tasked with escorting souls into the Underworld. His name literally meant "Death".
Dan started shutting down his computer. He took another look around the office, then grabbed his satchel and headed out.
After he closed his office door, he went straight to the bullpen. He spotted Jones talking with Hansen and went to join the two.
"Guys," Dan started. "I just talked to the Chief, and I'm heading out early, I was up all night and I need some rest."
"Yeah, you do," agreed Jones. "You look like death with a hangover."
"Thanks," Dan sighed.
"I'll keep you in the loop on what we find about the missing woman you reported. Nothing so far," Hansen said.
"Meanwhile, want me to drive you home? You might be too tired to drive safely," Jones pointed out.
"I'm sure I can make it the few miles to my place, Jonsey," Dan said. "But thanks anyway."
Hansen leaned his considerable bulk back in his chair and eyed his Lieutenant. "Yeah, I'd be happy to follow you two and drive your car back for you."
"Seriously, guys? I'm just sleepy, not drunk," Dan pointed out.
"Still, just to be safe," Hansen argued.
"Damn it. Alright," Dan complained, reaching into his pocket for the keys. He tossed the keys to Hansen, who snagged them out of the air. "Here. No eating, follow right behind
us, don't change the side mirrors."
"Sweet!" Hansen said, grinning like a kid.
The three walked out to the parking lot. Dan stopped by his black Dodge Charger. He watched as Hansen gleefully climbed behind the wheel.
"I'm serious. Follow us and no side trips and No Eating," Dan ordered, then followed Jones to the department's unmarked car.
On the way to Dan's house, Dan told Jones what he had told the Chief: That he was going to take a few days off and drive up the coast, get away for a bit. Not the real purpose, heading into a mythological place of the afterlife. He knew that if he even hinted at that, he'd be sitting with a psychologist for the next six weeks.
"I'm not sure how long I'll be gone. A day or a week," he said.
"Good thing we're slow, Dan," Jones observed as they turned onto the street where Dan lived. Dan glanced at the house where, just a week ago, had hosted a college party where his niece was abducted, and later murdered. "What about Dude?"
"I'll take him to my sister's house, maybe. No, wait, her husband is allergic. You? Dude likes you," Dan asked.
"I'd love to, man," Jones said. "But my wife is allergic."
"Then I'll ask my sister to drop by every evening to feed the guy," Dan said.
"Good enough," Jones said as he pulled up along the curb in front of Dan's house. Both men looked around to see if Hansen had followed. Dan watched with relief as Hansen parked the Charger in the driveway.
Dan climbed out and walked over to the driveway. He opened the door for Hansen, who jumped out like a child at a toy store.
"Man, I got to get me one of these," Hansen gushed. "It drives so smooth, lots of power, and all those toys!"
"I'm sure the dealer can set you up," Dan said as he held out his hands for his keys.
"Nah, my wife would kill me," Hansen said as he passed Dan the keys. "I'm stuck with the mini-van."
"Too bad," Dan laughed. "Thanks for driving it."
"Dude, thank you! This is a sweet machine," Hansen said, shaking Dan's hand.
Hansen walked to where Jones was parked, and they took off down the street as Dan unlocked the door and let himself in. Inside, went into his bedroom and started looking at what clothes he had clean. He took off his Glock and locked it in the gun safe by his bed.
Descent into Tartarus Page 3
