Apollyon c-4

by Jennifer L. Armentrout

  I made a face. What?

  Seth laughed. Ah, I’ve sort of missed this, Alex.

  Opening my eyes, I resisted the irrational urge to admit that I too missed the banter, the out-snarking battle that neither of us won. It was weird—the dynamics of my relationships with Seth and Aiden.

  Aiden complimented me; he was the yin to my yang, the “now, now” to my smartass. But Seth and I were too much alike, and in a way, we really were the same person. Together for too long, we probably would murder each other.

  But yeah, there was a part of me that missed this—missed him.

  Why haven ‘t you started yelling at me yet? he asked.

  I choked out a laugh. Only you would ask that question. What? Do you want me to yell at you? I doubt that it would do any good. It’s not going to change you.

  But that’s never stopped you from doing anything before. Even if you knew the outcome and it was pointless, you’d still do it.

  Like now? Staying away from you is pointless?

  The smugness was back, settling over me like a second skin. Very pointless, he added.

  Frustrated now, I closed my eyes and sighed. Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think you do. I know you don’t care about anyone but yourself, but I really need to go.

  Pricks of irritation overshadowed the warmth of amusement and arrogance. I want to talk.

  Immediately wary, my hands opened and closed. What do you want to talk about?

  How wrong you are.

  It was a good thing Hermes hadn’t showed up, because my hand itched to connect with his face. Oh, gods… Seth, I can’t do this—

  I care about you, he said, surprising me.

  I shook my head, wanting to deny it, because stripping my ability to make my own decisions was a hell of a way of showing how he cared, but it was the truth. But I remembered that night in Telly’s house, that moment I’d seen the indecision in his eyes, the vulnerability. He hadn’t wanted to hurt me then, but I believed that what he needed overwhelmed what he wanted.

  I know, I said, because, deep down, I knew he did care.

  Even more shocking, there was a sudden opening in the connection. Not that I could read any of Seth’s thoughts, but there was a vulnerability that hadn’t been there before. It wouldn’t have been bad between us, even if you never connected with me. It wouldn’t have been terrible.

  My chest felt heavy and it ached, because there was also some truth to that.

  But it never would’ve been enough, he added, and in a weird way, he felt closer now, like he was right beside me. I’m man enough to admit that. Even if I fought for you fairly—and trust me, Aiden has nothing on me when I’m determined—in the end, whatever you felt for me would’ve been leftovers. I would’ve been a leftover. You would’ve never really been mine. I’ve always known that.

  I squeezed my hands until my joints ached. Then why did you want to be with me—in the Catskills, you asked me to give it a try. Or was that a huge part of your master plan?

  Master plan? Seth laughed, but it was humorless. Why wouldn’t I have asked? I’m attracted to you, Alex. Doesn’t take much to figure that out. And there’s more. I’ve been drawn to you, ever since I first saw you. It’s just the way it is for our kind.

  A distant, almost sad feeling crept through the connection. That pull between us—I don’t think you’ve ever understood, or even felt it, as much asido. But anyway, like I said, I do care about you, too.

  There was a physical thing between us, partly due to the Apollyon bond and our own attraction to each other. I was grownup enough to admit that it still was there, but it was watered down in comparison to how I felt for Aiden. But some things didn’t change.

  I care about you. The words were whispered and sounded broken to me.

  For a moment, we said nothing. It was like a stalemate, a really weird, awkward and sad one.

  Please don’t do this, Seth.

  He sighed. Alex…

  I can help you.

  The pricks of irritation soured my stomach now. I don’t need help.

  You do. I took a deep breath. You’re like an addict—the aether, whatever love and approval you’re seeking from Lucian. You need help.

  I knew the moment I’d said the wrong thing. Irritation flipped to anger and it was like standing too close to a fire. I don’t need your help, Alex. What I need is for you to understand that you can’t escape Fate. That everything will be different—it will be better—if you just let Lucian do what needs to be done.

  Seth—

  And I need you to understand, Alex, if you can, that maybe—just maybe—Lucian actually cares for me, that I’m worth that, and he wants the best for me—for us. Do you think you can do that?

  My throat worked on the lump that had formed there. You are worth someone caring about you, but—

  But what? His voice snapped fire, daring me to say what he knew I was going to say.

  I drew in a stuttered breath. But I can’t do what you’re asking. You are worth it—worth so much—but not Lucian. He’s using you. And it’ll be too late—

  It’s not too late. In the end, no matter what, I will have everything that I want.

  And then he pushed back and broke the connection.

  CHAPTER 24

  When I opened my eyes again, Aiden was still asleep, and although the cord hummed softly in my stomach, Seth was gone for now. I climbed to my feet and quickly scanned the cave. Everything was the same—not exactly the Hilton Hotel, but safe.

  Swallowing down the lump that felt like a permanent fixture in my throat, I shuffled over to Aiden and sat beside him, pulling my knees to my chest. Gods, I didn’t know what was worse—if Seth was completely gone and there was no hope for him, or if there were a part of him still in there somewhere. Either way, wondering about it was hopeless. Right now I was on a mission to discover a way to destroy Seth. So did it matter? In the end, I couldn’t allow him to transfer power from me. Too many lives rested on stopping him.

  Aiden must’ve been the proud owner of an internal clock, because when the sky started to turn orange beyond the irregular holes in the roof of the cavern, he stretched like a jungle cat coming awake from an afternoon nap.

  He sat up fluidly and leaned over, placing his hands on either side of my bent knees. Heat rolled off his bare chest. He pressed his lips to the sensitive space beneath my ear and murmured, “Good morning.”

  “Good morning.”

  “I’m guessing we weren’t overrun by spiders?” Aiden popped to his feet and stretched again, raising his arms, his back bowing.

  “No.”

  He sent me a look over his shoulder and then bent down, grabbing his shirt off the bag. “You hanging in there?”

  I nodded.

  As we ate a quick breakfast of gerbil food and got ready to head back out into the tunnel, I debated on what to tell Aiden. I couldn’t hide the fact that I’d had some sort of interaction with Seth again, but I wasn’t sure how to put what I was feeling into words that anyone could understand.

  When he handed me the musty-smelling cloak, I finally said something. “I saw Seth last night.”

  Aiden stilled, hands clenching his own cloak. “Okay.”

  I focused on his shoulder. “I know I should’ve said something earlier.”

  “Yes. You should have.”

  A flush stained my cheeks. “I didn’t really see him. Not like last time. He talked to me through the connection. He doesn’t know what we’re doing. He asked, but I didn’t say anything.”

  “Of course.” He slipped on the cloak with quick, stiff movements. “What did he want?”

  I shifted my weight uncomfortably. “I think he just wanted… to talk.”

  “To talk?” Disbelief colored his tone.

  “Yeah, he… I think there’s a part of him still there. You know, a part of him that’s confused, but he really believes that Lucian cares for him.” I trailed off, shaking my head. “It doesn’t matter. You ready?”


  Aiden studied me a moment, then nodded. With our hoods in place, we left the little slice of peace behind and ventured out into the dark, narrow tunnels, traveling them in silence. Since I couldn’t see Aiden’s face or his eyes, I wasn’t sure what he was thinking, but I was sure it had something to do with Seth. It was what I was thinking about as we navigated the darkness, with only our footsteps echoing in the silence.

  I wished that I had seen what was happening to Seth before it had become too late, noticed how the aether and akasha had been affecting him. Most of all, I wished I had seen how badly he needed someone—someone who accepted him, even loved him. Instead I had been so wrapped up in my own problems I hadn’t seen what everything had been doing to him.

  What I’d been doing to him.

  In a way, I had seriously failed Seth.

  After two hours of nonstop walking in the dark, a small speck of orange light shone ahead, and the closer we got, the larger the spot became until we could see the world outside the cavern.

  “Finally,” Aiden muttered.

  He stopped at the rough, irregular opening and peered out over the sloping hill that led into a thick mist that blanketed the orange sky. “The Vale of Mourning,” Aiden said. “We’re close to the Plain of Judgment.”

  “Hopefully Apollo got word to Caleb.” I stepped out. The drab grass crunched under my boots. “It shouldn’t take long.”

  And it didn’t, taking only a half an hour to get down the hill and to enter the mist, which gave way like stirred smoke, revealing the Vale.

  The place was as depressing as it sounded.

  Bare trees dotted the landscape. Their branches curled down at the ends, as if weighted by the suffering that seeped into the air. Slabs of gray rock rose from the dull grass and a small creek, its water dark and moody, parted the plain.

  People were everywhere.

  Some were by the creek, lying listlessly on their sides. Their fingers trailed into the water, their bodies shuddering over and over again with deep, heavy sighs. Others were perched upon rocks, sobbing openly, hands clutched to their chests. A few sat at the bases of trees, tucked into balls as they cried out.

  The Vale of Mourning was a cesspool of heartbreak and suffering—the final resting place of those who’d died unhappily in love.

  I couldn’t get past these people fast enough. Although no one approached us, as they seemed too lost in their misery to even notice us, the lump that had been in my throat all morning grew rapidly. Depression was the air that was breathed here. Sorrow filled the river. Grief rooted the dead trees in place.

  Even Aiden’s steps seemed heavier, as if we were walking through the rain-soaked Asphodel Field.

  “I don’t want to be here,” I said finally, drifting closer to him.

  Aiden reached out, finding my hand under my cloak. “I know. We’re almost through.”

  A man turned his tear-streaked face to the sky, letting out a hoarse cry. Near him, a woman collapsed onto the ground, sobbing and spitting hysterical, unintelligible words that no one was listening to. That was probably the suckiest part about the Vale. All these souls were here because of unhappy love, but no one cared. They were alone in their misery, as they probably had been in life.

  But we weren’t a part of the Vale, so we traveled on, able to do what these poor souls had been unable to do in life and death. We moved on, past the wants and needs that never had come to fruition, beyond love that had been lost, or never had been theirs to hold.

  Some of the weight lifted along with the mist, and before us was a cobblestone road that honestly came out of nowhere as the skies cleared to the odd burnt orange. But we weren’t alone. Hundreds, if not thousands, of souls traveled the same path as us. All kinds of people—young and old, pure and half—traveled toward their Judgment. Picking out the Sentinels and Guards was easy, even though their uniforms weren’t covered in gore like they had been when I’d been in limbo. These souls all had been buried.

  Aiden and I stuck out.

  Very few of the souls traveling wore cloaks of any kind, since obviously that wasn’t the fashion trend above ground. If anyone had passed away in a cloak, I’d be curious to as how and why. Most were in street clothing. Some even had ball caps on, and maybe we should’ve stashed away some of those. Someone was even rocking a cowboy hat.

  Anyway, this wasn’t good.

  Hades’ guards were posted along the road, atop their black warhorses. They kept the travelers in order and the path moving. It was probably an endless, boring job.

  We moved toward the center of the group, hoping to get lost in the masses of tall Sentinels. Some of them passed cursory glances at us, but no one spoke to us. At the sound of a low nicker and approaching hoofs, my heart tripped up as I placed my hand on the dagger under my cloak. I felt Aiden move to do the same thing.

  But the large warhorse blew past us, the guard riding low over the back. People darted out of the way; if they hadn’t, they’d have been trampled under the powerful hooves.

  Unease blossomed in the pit of my stomach, but it wasn’t like we could turn back now.

  Nearing the Plain of Judgment, it was hard not to notice the low reddish glow spreading across the horizon, and the further we traveled, the larger the… the fire grew.

  Tartarus.

  Whoa, I so didn’t want to be anywhere near that place. And I really hoped that we wouldn’t get caught and tossed into Tartarus.

  My heart was throwing itself against my ribs by the time we entered the open plains of Judgment. The mass of people crowding the crossroads was enormous and guards were everywhere, positioned just in case someone doomed for Tartarus tried to make a run for it.

  Aiden stayed close to my side. “You don’t happen to see Caleb?”

  I laughed dryly as I scanned over the people. The crowd was so thick I had no idea how I could see anyone in the throng. And I had a hard time not staring at the palace, which seemed way too close.

  More of a medieval fortress than a home, Hades’ palace rose like the mountains we’d traveled through, casting a dark shadow across the Plain of Judgment. Four turrets reached into the orangey sky, one from each corner of the stronghold.

  Although I hoped Elysian Fields offered better scenery, I couldn’t imagine waking every morning and looking out one of the many windows to see… all of this.

  Focusing on the important stuff, I joined Aiden in the search to find the familiar blond head. There were a lot of blonds, but none of them were Caleb.

  “What if word hasn’t gotten to him?” I asked Aiden, afraid to say Apollo’s name down here.

  “He has to know,” he assured me, scanning the rapidly increasing pile of people. “Gods, how many people do they process here in a day?”

  Thousands, it appeared.

  Proceeding forward, I realized I was pretty useless in the search for Caleb. Being so short, all I could see were backs of heads. My unease grew unchecked. The longer we were here, the more dangerous it was. I thought back to the guard who had raced ahead. My mouth went dry. We needed to find Caleb and we needed—

  A heavy hand landed on my shoulder.

  Sucking in a sharp breath, my fingers twitched around the handle of the dagger as I spun around, ready to use the blade if need be.

  “Geez, don’t stab me. I think we’ve had enough of that going on between the two of us.”

  I stumbled back as the familiar voice sunk in. He wore a baseball cap pulled low and a hoodie tucked over it, but wisps of blond hair poked around the edges. A wild grin shone from underneath the shadow of the cap.

  “Caleb.” My voice sounded hoarse.

  Seconds away from tackling him to the ground, I was stopped when Aiden gripped my shoulder. “I know you want to,” he said in a low voice, “but it would draw attention.”

  “Yeah, it would.” Caleb nodded. “So let’s keeping the hugging and crying to a minimum.”

  I was already on the verge of crying, so thank the gods the hood hid that. Stepping away from Aide
n, I stopped in front of Caleb. “I am so glad to see you again.”

  “And I’m happy to see you…” He lifted his hand, as if he would touch me, but stopped. “It’s also good to see you back to normal.”

  I winced. “Yeah, about that… sorry?”

  Caleb chuckled. “It’s all good in the hood. Come, we’ve got to do this quickly.” He gestured toward the road leading to Hades’ palace. “I’m surprised you guys even made it this far without getting caught. The whole Underworld is in a tizzy over what’s been going on topside.”

  “I imagine that’s why they’re so busy down here,” Aiden commented.

  “Yep.” Caleb shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans. “A lot of Sentinels and pures coming through here. Sort of blows, you know?”

  “Yeah, it blows real bad. So why would we—?”

  Without warning, the ground trembled violently and a great, terrible roar cracked overhead, shaking me to the bone.

  I turned, as did everyone else, toward Tartarus. The smell of sulfur grew until it was thick and choking. Fear exploded in my gut. Aiden was beside me in an instant, his hand pressing into my back. “What’s happening?” I asked.

  “You’ll see,” Caleb responded, totally nonplussed.

  I shot him a look, but then a ball of fire flew straight into the air over Tartarus, twisting and churning as embers flew in every direction. The fire shifted, morphing as it continued to stream into the sky.

  The funnel of fire stilled for a moment.

  On each side, the fire grew, spreading into giant wings that seemed to reach all corners of the Underworld. In the center, a dragon’s head appeared. The mouth opened, omitting another bloodcurdling scream, and then it swooped down. The impact shook the ground as the fiery tail whipped through the air.

  Then it quieted.

  “Holy Hades,” I mumbled.

  “It’s like the welcome party for those sentenced to Tartarus,” Caleb explained. “Happens every time a group arrives in there. You get used to it after a while.”

  “What the hell…” I muttered. There was no way I’d grow used to seeing that.