by Cate Masters
Rumbling echoed, so low at first Eric couldn’t identify it. So deep, it sounded more the beginnings of an earthquake than a growl. No mistaking the noise. It was a growl. Of an immense creature. Attached to him.
Every pore of Eric’s skin tingled with dread. No! Animals smell fear. Feed off it to their advantage.
Forcing a breath, he tilted his neck side to side. Relax. Yeah, sure. No problem. Especially when the growl increased in intensity.
Turn the tables. His mind raced. Some animals backed off if the prey played dead. Others if the prey displayed aggression. How might this thing react?
Something huge slid along the ground, and the creature turned to face him. Eric was almost sure of it. Had it felt the tug of the chain? Had it been sleeping, and had he awakened it? Shit. Stay calm.
“Easy. Take it easy.” His voice rang clear through the dark.
The resounding silence buoyed his hopes. It backed down! Already! He released a sharp breath, half relief, half laugh. He stopped breathing when the creature rose in front of him. Tall as a three-story building, if he judged the angle of its stinky breaths correctly.
He gulped. “Good. We’ll take it slow and easy. Okay?”
It released an ear-splitting, screeching roar. Heat and spittle hit Eric’s face and chest.
Oh shit. Maybe the situation called for a softer touch. Aggression was overrated. He’d remember the point, if he ever returned home.
“Good, boy,” he murmured. “Nice…monster.”
Something whooshed toward him. Its speed overhead ruffled his hair. A limb. Probably clawed.
He hurled himself onto the ground. The swipe grazed his back. The massive creature gave another screech, one of surprise. Probably because it missed. It shifted, most likely readying to strike again, with greater ferocity. He had no doubt he’d pissed it off.
The ground shook, and he knew it stepped nearer. Talking to it didn’t calm it. Since they’d been chained together, running wouldn’t help. Maybe playing dead would work. Stilling himself, he cringed as a giant foot came down beside his leg. The muffled crunch of metal vaguely registered. The chain loosened.
Eric tugged hopefully. When his tug met no resistance, he gave a laugh, but his joy disappeared as quickly. It wouldn’t matter if the thing had accidentally freed him. He wouldn’t be playing dead for long. He’d be dead if it caught him.
The hulking creature swiveled, and its weight slammed his chest, sending Eric across the hard ground. As he slid, rocks slammed into his side and legs. He couldn’t stifle the yowls of pain. The animal waited as if listening, its hissing breaths indicating delight. It fed off his pain. Stay silent.
A large, clawed hand grabbed his ankle. It tugged him upward and swung him in a circle. Hurtling through the darkness, Eric clamped his jaw shut. And his eyes, expecting he’d soon become a splat mark on some unseen wall or the stony ground. The air rushed around him sickeningly. Sticky webs matted his face and hair. Something screeched as points of a wing impaled his legs, some flying creature felled by the impact. Still, he stifled his cry of anguish.
A deep voice clipped the night. Commanding. The creature went still, swinging Eric suspended from the chain in mid-air. In the thick tones of an unknown language, the voice sounded urgent.
Eric’s playmate released him. With an oomph, he hit the rocky ground. He braced for the impact of an immense foot, crushing him into eternal silence. Instead, the thing shuffled off in the direction of the voice. Eric steeled himself again, waiting for some final blow. The swish of its tail receded.
Pushing up to a stand, he took a step. Then another. He raised his arms, and the chain slapped against his arm.
He was free! Metal bracelets notwithstanding. “What the hell happened?”
In the darkness, a man said, “Its master called it for other work.”
Another assignment? “I guess I’m lucky it found a new job.”
“Others are not so lucky. Our numbers may soon increase.” The man’s tone sounded ominous.
Dread iced his veins. “What do you mean?” Had it left to kill more people?
“The tormentors do their work above ground tonight. In my time here, it’s never been so. It does not bode well for any.”
His muscles tensed, ready to spring into action. “Above ground? On earth? Where?”
“A village called Boiling Springs, the master said, on the command of Lord Plouton, ruler of The Underworld kingdoms.”
“Oh, no.” He’d known Joss was in terrible danger. He never would have guessed the extreme extent. “Why Boiling Springs?”
“Why not?” came the weary reply.
Glancing wildly around, Eric strained to see any break in the darkness. Freaking Erebus. “I need to get out of here, go help them.”
Cackling laughter filled the air. “So would we wish to be released. Even into Death’s final peace.”
There must be a way. Instinct told him to follow the creature, and he stumbled in the same direction. He hoped.
Like a blind man, he held his arms out to feel his way through the blackness. He stumbled across the uneven landscape, and his feet often slipped into crevices and met painfully with large rocks. It was impossible to hear the creature’s breathing with moans and shrieks from every direction. He forged ahead, hoping he wouldn’t accidentally step on its tail and piss it off again.
A flurry of wings whooshed over his head, and he ignored the occasional hiss in his ear. His determination waned only when the noises died away, and he guessed himself alone. Had he entered some untraveled corridor? How long had he been walking? Time in Tartarus was meaningless with every second magnified by awareness. The torture of not wanting to be there, of escape calling and no way to answer.
In despair, he slowed his pace. He could walk forever and not get anywhere because he couldn’t see a damn thing. “I don’t care if it takes forever. I’m getting the hell out of here.” No, the opposite. He was getting out of Hell.
A cold surface smacked up against his chest, abruptly halting him. “What the…” He ran his hands along it—cold as metal. Flat like a wall.
No, a fence. A bronze fence. He’d come to the end of Tartarus. His fingers searched for its top but it exceeded his reach. No way to tell by how much. Maybe some chink existed in it, a crack he might slip through. He edged his way along, its smoothness unchanging for miles. The farther he traveled, the more hope waned.
Freedom from the creature came too late and held no value. He was still trapped.
* * * *
Swinging the sword, Joss stepped between Gram and the shadowy attacker. The steely tip sliced into the creature. It bellowed. She swung again, harder, unable to tell where the shadow-being stood in the darkness. A wail, and the dark wraith melted to a puddle.
Gram laid a hand on her arm. “Thank you, Jocelyn.”
“Is it gone?” Joss panted.
“That one, yes.” Mom raised her weapon over her head.
Joss gaped when it whooshed down beside her. Another dark puddle formed nearby. “How did you…” Never mind. She had to get used to the enemy’s tricks.
Mom jerked her head. “And there are plenty more.”
Creatures of every kind swarmed through the hamlet of Boiling Springs, ranging in size from hummingbirds to dragons, stretching the length of a town block. Its roads became a carpet of slithering mass. Winged beings perched in tree branches before flying off to clash in mid-air with the enemy.
Iris flew above them. “Retreat to the ley line.”
Joss fell back with Mom, Gram, and Lydia closer to Yellow Breeches Road. Tonight, energy emanated with an audible buzz. The ley line’s normally tame hum had grown in intensity to a loud background noise.
The forces of light and dark battled for its control. It must have been agitated by the tug of war. Joss wasn’t sure she wanted to be near the ley line. If it should fall to the wrong side, they would be in greater danger. Then again, if Iris and h
er army lost, it wouldn’t matter where they hid. Disaster would find them.
Right now, things weren’t looking so great. Wave after wave of nasty creatures came, their sheer numbers pushing them back.
Iris gestured to an orb. “We need reinforcements. Get word to Zephyrus. To my father. My sisters. Hurry!”
The glowing globe sped toward the stars.
Joss turned to Gram. “Will our allies get here in time?”
“We can only hope.”
“What about Eric? Will we be able to rescue him?” She couldn’t bear to think of what tortures he might endure in The Underworld.
Her mother said, “They’ll try, Jocelyn.”
“Not good enough. They have to bring him home.”
A rush of charging creatures met a surge of Iris’s troops. Atop a black steed came Tom, swinging a sword. A swarm of arrows zinged past. Wide-eyed, Tom halted, then steered the snorting horse down a side street. He lurched forward with a cry, grasping at his back, where a silver ninja star protruded.
Gaping, Joss turned to Lydia.
Her aunt smirked. “I never miss.”
“Quickly,” Iris said, suddenly hovering above them. “They will soon surround us.” She pointed to a trail of illuminated spots on the ground. “Our brethren suffer injuries. Help them if you can.” With a whoosh of wings, she shot upward, wielding her staff to knock what looked like the Wizard of Oz flying monkeys out of the sky.
A terrible unease crept over Joss. The glowing spots had to be trails of blood. Fae blood. Still, she allowed herself to be swept along in Gram, Mom, and Lydia’s rush. She bumped up against them when they halted.
“What’s wrong?” Joss asked.
“I don’t know,” her mother said. “The trail’s gone.”
Glancing around, Joss guessed why. “It’s a trap.”
From the darkness emerged hulking figures, encircling them. Joss grasped Gram and Lydia’s hands. “It’s him,” she whispered.
At the forefront came Lord Plouton, the ruler of The Underworld. Beside him walked a beautiful woman. Apparently someone wanted them to meet head on.
Joss gasped. “Iris.” How could she betray them?
“Not Iris,” Mom corrected. “Her twin, Arkhe. See, she has no wings.”
The demon winked at Arkhe, then turned his attention to Joss. “Well, well, well. I hoped to see you again. Sorry about the circumstances.”
“What do you want?” Gram visibly braced.
The fact Plouton had put in a personal appearance spoke volumes. The Lord of The Underworld wouldn’t bother himself with trifles. This must be a major deal.
He strolled forward, his voice silken. “Both sides want the same thing, don’t we?”
A laugh escaped Mom. “No. We seek peace. And justice.”
“Justice. Exactly. Peace—meh. It’s overrated.”
Words bubbled out without Joss’s control. “Look, I knew nothing about the ley line when I bought the inn. Stop this madness. I promise I’ll move away. The world will go back to the way it was.”
“Will it? Doubtful, sweetheart. Your very presence ensured everything would change.”
“I don’t understand.”
“For millennium, the energies sat dormant. No one disturbed the line. Thus, no one disturbed the treaty with the opposition. Unfortunately, you violated the terms.” He sounded delighted at her faux pas.
“I told you, I had no idea about any of this until too late. If I’d known there was a treaty, I would never have come.” Or believed it. It was simply too fantastic.
He waved her off. “Hindsight,” he said on a sigh.
“So there’s nothing I can do?” It couldn’t be too late. She wouldn’t accept defeat.
He arched a brow. “Do you propose surrendering?”
Straightening, she said without hesitation, “No.” Never.
“Then you must accept the consequences.” Fire flashed in his eyes and he whirled away.
“Wait.” Hope arose when he slowly turned toward her. She spoke swiftly. “This was a terrible misunderstanding. You must stop it before it destroys the town.”
A sly smile eased across his lips. “Boiling Springs could use a makeover anyway. Though I admit, I rather like its name.”
Joss’s lip trembled with anger. “Let my family go. Let Eric go.”
His brows twitched in feigned confusion. “Who?”
“Eric. The man you kidnapped.”
Plouton shot a questioning glance to a centurion, who murmured something inaudible. “Ah. Him.” His smile turned into a scowl. “No.”
“Please. I’ll do anything.”
Mom, Gram, and Lydia clutched at her from either side, each echoing with a hushed “No.”
At his arched brow, she shrugged them off and stepped forward. “Tell me what you want me to do.”
“Now, that’s more like it.”
“I wasn’t finished. You tell me, and we’ll negotiate.”
“Jocelyn,” Gram said. “Don’t be foolish. He’ll steal your soul.”
She knew. If her soul would buy their safety, and Eric’s, she’d consider the deal.
Chapter 22
The bronze wall might be endless for all Eric knew. It sure seemed to be. He walked for what might have been days, driven only by desperation. When even that began to fail him, he slowed, then slumped to his knees. “There’s no use.”
Somewhere ahead was a dim glow. A mirage? Like a thirsty man in the desert, he probably had imagined the beacon because he so badly wanted something, anything, to lead him out of here.
Nothing to lose by heading for it. Not like he’d planned to do anything else. Struggling to a stand, he shuffled on. The glow brightened and stretched long rays around him. Enveloped in it, he followed along the wall’s perimeter. The light reflected off the wall’s bronzed surface. It emanated from a tower high atop the wall, large as a castle, its turrets more elaborate than any Disney structure.
His breath hitched when a shadow moved in front of the light. What had the man said earlier? Someone horrible guarded the exit. Eric must be getting near. Frantically, he searched the wall. So strong the gods couldn’t penetrate, the man had warned.
Maybe the gods didn’t have enough at stake. Eric did. He had to get back to save Joss from whatever maelstrom befell the town.
High above, a voice screeched, “What fool approacheth?”
Shit. No time to make a plan. “Eric Hendricks.” Why his name sounded silly and inadequate in answer to the question, he didn’t know.
“Go back, or suffer the consequences.”
What, eternal damnation? Too late. “Please, I must leave here.”
A cackling laugh echoed around him. Obviously the beast didn’t understand.
“There’s been a mistake. I’m not supposed to be here.”
The laughter faded. “All who approach these gates say the same. Go back.”
From some well of strength he didn’t know he had, Eric said, “No.”
Wings unfurled in a great flap, and the guard—what did the man call her? Tisiphone. The Erinye disappeared in a swarm of insects. The buzzing whirlwind swooped down to the ground, and the insects disappeared. Tisiphone stood in front of him.
The worst fear of Eric’s life caused his knees to wobble. He gulped hard and steadied himself. No wonder no one tried to escape Tartarus. The thing was indescribably horrible, with immense bat-like wings stretched high. An ancient hag with a dog’s face, serpentine hair writhing atop its head. Medusa’s sister? Skin blackened, not of pigmentation, but age and charring. Dried blood stained her ragged robes.
The putrid stench turned his stomach. Talk about foul. Despite his experience working on animals with infections, he could hardly stand to look at her face. Fluids oozed out of her eyes, nose and mouth. Antiseptic would do her no good.
Her wings folded behind her as she stepped closer. “What did you say, fool?” she commanded.
>
Gagging, he said, “With all due respect, I said no.”
Narrowing her eyes, yellowish fluid dripped out. “Do you know who I am?”
He bowed slightly. “I’m honored to be in the presence of the goddess Tisiphone.” Not exactly how he pictured a goddess to look. More like Joss—beautiful, with an innate glow about her. When he returned, he’d tell her. Treat her like one.
His description seemed to appease her. “Yet you persist in your foolishness.”
He mustered his courage. “I don’t belong here.”
Her laughter reminded him of dogs yipping. “Can you come up with nothing more original?”
Desperation and anger surged forth. “It’s true.”
She sidled closer, inspecting him. “Why should I release you?”
“I was kidnapped. Held hostage.”
Leaning close, she crooked her head. “By whom?”
Swallowing to still his nausea, he tried not to breathe. As terrible as she appeared, she smelled worse. “The Lord of The Underworld.”
The sound erupting from her resembled a canine’s growl. “What would he possibly want from you?”
“From me, nothing. He’s starting a war in my hometown. Against the woman I…” The word he almost uttered astonished him.
“Love?” she finished for him, a challenge in her tone.
He brightened. “You know what it’s like to be in love?”
She narrowed her eyes, forcing out grayish-green liquid. “Do not trifle with me. You try my patience with your nonsense. Now return from whence you came.” Her robes swirled as she turned.
He stood his ground. “I have to get out so I can fight in the war.”
She waved away his argument with a clawed limb. “There has been no war for eons.”
“There’s one now.” Obviously no one alerted the Erinye.
Halting, her nostrils twitched. “Where?”
“In Boiling Springs, Pennsylvania. The place they took the creature I was shackled to. He’s going to fight. I have to stop them.”
