by Eva Brandt
* * *
Baltasar
There was a legend of a mortal man who had attempted to defy death by going to Hades to retrieve his late wife. He had failed due to his weakness or, some said, due to the trickery of the gods.
Vampire parents told the story of the poet Orpheus to their fledglings ever since we were old enough to understand. It was meant to point out two things—why mortals were inferior to the undead, and why the underworld was a place we were not meant to go to.
When my father had told me the legend, he had emphasized one other issue. Orpheus had chosen to brave Hades on his own, armed with only his music and vague promises from the gods. This was unwise, as his quest had gone sideways. Had he had a friend with him, he would not have failed to rescue his beloved.
“There are very few things you can accomplish alone, Baltasar,” my father had said. “No man is an island. Even your mother has her sisters, and you know very well what she is like. You will always carry my thoughts with you wherever you go, but should you ever have to face a particularly difficult challenge, make sure to take more palpable support.”
I had never intended to go to the underworld on my own. It stood to reason that Adrian, Cezar and I would go together. However, I did not expect several of Eranthe’s minions to offer to come with us.
“Of course we can’t leave you on your own,” April pointed out as we were discussing our plan. “For all we know, you’ll get stuck there, and our chances to get Queen Eiar back will be lost.”
March nodded. “Your vulnerability to the underworld may make your quest futile. You might be able to detect Her Majesty, but getting her out is the hard part. You need us.”
We couldn’t argue with that. Whenever a vampire was born or created, the Grand Lich placed a specific enchantment on us to keep our souls from drifting away. That spell would not hold in the underworld. We would have trouble leaving Hades on our own.
However, despite being well aware of our limitations, I also knew that none of Eranthe’s minions could help us in our journey. I shook my head at the gathered group. “I’m sorry, but you can’t come with us. We can’t trust you to not turn on us on Fufluns’ say so.”
March shot me an outraged look, but Cezar stepped in before she could launch herself into one of her predictable protests. “You’ve already done it once before. He’s been manipulating you for Grand Lich knows how long, slowly turning you against Eranthe. You don’t like us much, and we don’t blame you. But taking that into account, can you honestly say that, if you were to go to Hades, you would be inclined to trust us?”
It was actually pretty surprising that Fufluns had done such a thing. Soul manipulation wasn’t something we were unaccustomed to, and gods like Fufluns had the natural ability to influence others to do their bidding in this way. I just didn’t understand why he had chosen this approach.
For the moment, his reasons didn’t matter. Only the facts did. “If people do not have absolute faith in one another, they cannot embark on such a trip together,” Adrian said, wrapping up our explanation. “It will have to be just us. And if we get stuck there, you’ll find another solution. You can speak to Her Majesty’s sisters and they can find a better option. Until then, you are better off taking care of Tis Ánoixis in Eranthe’s absence. It’s what Eranthe would want you to do.”
I expected Eranthe’s lieutenants to protest, to argue more with our decision. Instead, they lowered their heads, resigned to their fate. The vivid emerald of their wings faded into a far duller, almost grayish shade. “We understand,” May said, one single tear trailing down her cheek. “You are not wrong in your assessment. But we’ll come with you as far as we can, anyway.”
Two more of The Green Man’s leaves withered away and died. “We will try to provide you with all the help that we can send from here.”
It was on that note that our rather distraught group gathered in the courtyard of The Palace of Eternal Blooms. Eranthe’s inner circle had not notified the population of Eranthe’s kidnapping just yet, but a sense of clear unease still lingered in the air, reminding me of the silence before a fierce storm. The sky had turned a lifeless shade of gray and while we had no problems with the sight, it made everyone else jumpy.
“The skies are rarely gray in The Realm of Eternal Youth,” March said glumly. “It is our fault that the clouds have descended upon us again.”
“It is only a temporary state of affairs,” April snapped, giving her fellow lieutenant a chastising look. “The skies will be blue once more on the next visit of our undead guests.”
March didn’t respond to that, and I was secretly grateful since we had no time to dwell on futile arguments. Eranthe’s lieutenants must have agreed with me because they were already launching themselves in the air. We followed their example, no longer bothering to hide our flying abilities.
The Green Man wished us a simple “Good luck,” and then we were off. March took the lead, and as we flew, a cold, almost vicious rain started to fall. It tasted like tears, and I wondered if perhaps the land itself had started to mourn Eranthe’s loss.
No one would be mourning Eranthe for long, not if I could help it.
“Where exactly are we going?” I asked, focusing on practicalities so that I wouldn’t have to think about just how difficult our job would be. “Is there an entrance to the underworld nearby?”
April nodded. “The geographical center of Chronikos is connected to the core of our world. It is difficult to explain to an outsider, but you will see once we get there.”
Her cryptic response didn’t really satisfy me, but I held my tongue. Perhaps she was right. Some things needed to be seen to be understood, and the entrance to the underworld might be included in this category.
Despite this knowledge, we only realized the magnitude of our undertaking when the giant tree popped up in our line of sight. It seemed to appear out of nowhere, defying reality, as we certainly hadn’t seen it before. Its trunk extended as far as the eye could see and its branches reached up high beyond the clouds. Its leaves shone in all the colors of the rainbow. Some glinted gold and crimson. Others were as beautifully verdant as the grass in The Realm of Eternal Youth. There were even some that were withering away, lined with frost.
The aged bark of the tree glowed so brightly that looking at it hurt my eyes. As we approached, the magic in the air became thicker and thicker, vibrating against my center and making the beast inside me stir in both anxiousness and interest.
So, this was the mysterious Axis Mundi I’d heard so much about. “Well, that answers that,” I said, a little dumbly. “We always did wonder if the Axis Mundi was a tree or a mountain.”
“Oh, it varies,” May answered. “It changes shapes all the time. It’s been a tree since Queen Eiar and her sisters took the thrones of the seasons, but before that, it underwent a lot of transformations. It’s been a mountain, a pyramid, an obelisk, and plenty of other things.”
That made sense, I supposed. The world was ever-changing, and its center would change with it.
I still liked the tree best. It was alive in a way man-made structures could not be. Only a tree could express the vibrancy and complexity of all the beings that inhabited our world. It was probably a little ironic that I would think that, since I’d never cared for the part of me that was technically alive as much as I had for my undead side. It seemed that since my arrival here, I’d gained a renewed appreciation of all types of life forms.
Naturally, it didn’t matter. As beautiful as those leaves were, right now, they were in my way. The magic was blocking my path to Eranthe. I could still sense distant echoes of her presence through the last remaining traces of the blood bond. It tugged me deep beneath the surface, so far away anyone else might have blanched. Instead, having a target anchored me, quickly doing away with all the wonder I’d experienced upon seeing the Axis Mundi and ushering me to make haste.
My friends were no more inclined to waste time than I was. “I take it the entrance to the und
erworld is close to the Cosmic Tree’s roots,” Cezar said. He didn’t wait for an answer, already flying down before he even finished the sentence.
Nobody chastised him for his impatience. From this point on, it wasn’t that tough to spot our destination anyway. The magic coming from the gateway to the underworld had its own specific feel, one that no vampire could have missed. As soon as we landed, we spied the gap between the massive roots of the tree, widening into what appeared to be some kind of cavern. A tempestuous river swirled between us and the grotto, splitting into several branches as it hit the roots.
I couldn’t see anything beyond the entrance, but I had no doubt that many horrors were lurking in the shadows, more than a little eager to pounce and devour anyone foolish enough to try to sneak into a place no mortal should set foot in.
My friends and I were already used to such locations. In fact, come to think of it, the underworld probably had a lot in common with the Grand Lich’s crypts. We’d feel right at home. Go us.
Turning toward Eranthe’s lieutenants, I nodded at them one last time. “I suppose this is goodbye, at least for now. We’ll bring Eranthe back. You have my word.”
“I’d tell you not to make promises you can’t keep, but that would be foolish under these circumstances,” May murmured. “Our hopes and hearts go with you, undead warriors. You have our word in return that we will do our best to aid you from here.”
“Make sure to hurt Fufluns a little on my behalf,” March requested. “He has to pay for what he’s done.”
“But most of all,” April continued, “remember your goals and the feelings that are urging you to make this journey. They will provide you with light no matter what dark paths you have to tread. And when the moment comes for you to return, remember how it feels like to truly be alive.”
“You do realize that’s terrible advice to give to an undead, right?” Adrian drawled. “Thank you, though. We’ll remember. Baltasar, Cezar, let’s go.”
We didn’t have to be told twice. Together, the three of us flew past the swirling waters that were still in our way and ventured past the entrance to the cave, into the depths of a realm that had been created to consume us.
In the darkness, I grinned sharply, a dark resolve rising up inside my chest. Let it try. Let Hades try its best to tear our souls to pieces, drown us in its rivers, deafen us with the screams of the damned, and absorb us into its ambient magic. I was not afraid. My friends and I had found something precious, something special, and we would not lose it, no matter what we had to do.
Nine
Abandon All Hope
Eranthe
“I don’t suppose you’re allowed to give me a small tour of this place. I’m starting to get bored.”
Orthrus perked up when I addressed him and started to wag his tail in enthusiasm. Since Fufluns had left, more than an hour back, I’d been giving the two-headed dog the cold shoulder. Clearly, he was excited by my change in demeanor. “Are you interested in our realm, Your Majesty?”
“Of course,” I answered. “Who wouldn’t be?”
I was proud to say that it wasn’t even a lie. I did find the idea of exploring Hades intriguing. I’d heard so many things about the underworld from my mother, so many legends she had narrated to us when we’d been children. Sometimes, when my father had had the time—which had not been often—he’d join in, and I’d always treasured those moments. I wondered to what extent he had been accurate in his descriptions.
“Do you have many plants down here? I would love seeing them if you can show me.”
I held my breath as I waited for Orthrus’s response. I was relying on the fact that Fufluns hadn’t actually told the hound to keep me in my quarters, just to watch me.
The two-headed canine did not disappoint. “If that is your wish, Your Majesty, of course I can show you,” he replied, “but you need to stay close to me at all times. Like King Fufluns said, it would be dangerous for you to be on your own.”
“Don’t worry, Orthrus, I have no intention of taking foolish chances. I don’t know if King Fufluns and I can reach an agreement right now, but it’s too soon for me to make a decision. I’m not going to risk my soul recklessly while I think on this.”
My words made Orthrus even more joyful. “I’m so happy to hear that. None of us want you to be uncomfortable or sad, Queen Eiar. If you just give Hades a chance, you’ll find that you might be happy here.”
I didn’t argue with him, but I didn’t make him any promises either. Perhaps if things had been different, I would have indeed been inclined to be more open-minded or even arrange for a longer stay in Hades. I’d already started growing accustomed to the unfamiliar magic, and I had a feeling that the creatures down here needed help.
However, I already had a home and a nation I had to put above all else. Hades could never replace Tis Ánoixis, no matter how beautiful it might be.
I still made good use of the chance I’d been granted to carefully analyze my location. What I found didn’t fill me with much confidence. When I followed Orthrus out of the room I’d woken up in, the first thing I caught sight of was a window. The moment I looked outside, I realized I’d been assigned to the most well-guarded place in Hades.
Contrary to popular belief, that place was not Tartarus. While the inmates in the deepest, foulest part of the underworld were certainly well-guarded, my father had always said that three-quarters of the time, they were far too weak to do anything except whine in anguish.
It was the afterlife of the heroes that everyone needed to fear, and it was there that Fufluns had taken me. From my position in the mysterious palace I had yet to explore, I could already see the full expanse of Elysium, the beautiful fields shining in the surreal light almost as brightly as the grass of Tis Ánoixis. In the distance, clear blue waters glowed like priceless amethysts, reminding me a little of Cassia. Somewhere below me, legendary heroes were undoubtedly leading a life of pleasure, happiness, and utter relaxation in reward for their deeds of valor.
They would do anything in their power to keep that life from being interrupted. This could be a problem.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Orthrus asked. “There is no other place like it in the whole world, not even in the abodes of the gods. This is truly a place meant for happiness and it shows.”
The original purpose of an item or a location often differed from what it was ultimately used for, as evidenced by the fact that I didn’t feel all that happy about being here. Elysium was a gilded cage and nothing more. Perhaps the heroes here might have a different opinion, but I was a captive, and I would not accept that.
Just the same, I did not reject Orthrus’s peace offering and enthusiasm. “It really is lovely,” I replied, “although you might be biased in saying that it’s the most beautiful place in existence. You’ve yet to visit Chronikos. I think you’d find it just as pleasant, if not more so.”
Orthrus shook his massive heads. “There isn’t much room for a hell hound on the surface, and I was never happy when I tried that option. I belong here.”
By the same token, I belonged to Tis Ánoixis as well, but I didn’t bother pointing that out. “I see. Well, then, why don’t you show me the wonders of your home?”
He was more than happy to do that. As we headed toward the exit of the palace, we bypassed several contingents of centaur guards, all of whom bowed in front of me and murmured my name in reverential whispers. Orthrus’s bulk kept them all from approaching, and whenever someone tried to come a little closer, he let out a low, warning growl that sent the unwise individual in question scrambling back.
A few ghostly figures hovered beyond the centaurs, curious souls trying to get a better look at me. I would have been interested in meeting them as well, but Orthrus ushered us along before I could make the suggestion.
When we finally exited the palace, he launched himself into an explanation so elaborate he might have failed to deliver it had he not had two mouths to speak through. “We are currently in The Is
lands of the Blessed, the resting place and reward of all heroes,” he said as we walked down a winding cobblestone path. “Many deities have private residences built here, and this one belongs to King Fufluns.”
Of course it did. And I was an object, perfect to be stashed in Fufluns’s little hideaway. I stopped to poke at a tree and pressed my hand against the bark. Unlike all the times I did this when I was on the surface, the contact did very little to reassure me.
“This is a realm of eternal, perfect spring,” Orthrus continued, apparently oblivious to my frustration. “The sun is always kind to us. It never rains, nor does it snow.”
“Spring isn’t like that, Orthrus, not really. Believe me, I know.” I knelt on the ground, brushing my fingers over the grass. It felt real and alive, and yet, there was something missing. “Spring can be just as harsh and temperamental as winter or summer. Sometimes, chill winds can blow and bring ominous tidings. Other times, it may rain, and we often welcome it, as the water feeds the earth that is our home and the source of our magic.
“Nothing that is real can ever be perfect. The spring in The Islands of the Blessed is just a beautiful lie. But I suppose I can appreciate the effort the gods made in at least creating an appropriate simulacrum. The mortals will most likely not know the difference.”
“The fact that it is different doesn’t necessarily mean it’s inferior,” Orthrus reasoned, his voice carefully level. “Yes, this world might not be like the surface. Its sunlight might not be real. But it is still a gift, in other ways. The magic we receive here, from the Cosmic Tree, is far more potent than what people on the branches experience. In the end, it is the feeling that counts and the connection to the realm. The landscapes are just...”
