“Vinnie!”
“Yeah boss?” The flashlight in his hands shook. “If I shine it, it might hit that dog thing. And I think the dog is on our side.”
“Can you get Donovan out of here?”
He looked toward the exit. Cerberus gripped the twisting minotaur in its jaws and was dragging it steadily down one of the paths, away from them.
Vinnie nodded. “I think so.” He tucked the flashlight inside his belt. Grasping Donovan beneath his shoulders, he hauled the wounded man along the path and through the opening. When they were ten yards outside it, Vinnie stopped, heaving with exertion.
A bloodcurdling howl rose from within the labyrinth. Vinnie grabbed Donovan and dragged him another five yards. He wiped his sleeve on his forehead. “I don’t think that thing’s going to stay inside,” he said, looking at the labyrinth opening.
Riga dropped to her knees beside Donovan and felt the wound again. Her scarf was soaked through. There was too much blood. She felt a touch upon her neck – Donovan’s hand.
Tears sprang to her eyes. He was dying.
“Healing was never something – I’m sorry, Donovan. My magic doesn’t work that way.”
He smiled wryly. “It’s okay. Mine does.”
Golden energy rippled from him, stirring her hair. She rocked back on her heels.
Donovan sat up cheerfully. “Archetype inside. Remember?” He removed her bloody scarf from beneath his shirt. Where once there had been a ragged puncture, now there was a whitening scar. As she watched, it disappeared, leaving his skin unblemished.
He gave her a critical look. “I told you to just go.”
“You could have told me why! How was I to know? You couldn’t magic your way through the maze but now I find out you can heal yourself?”
“Now’s not the time, kids,” Vinnie said, rolling his eyes toward the labyrinth.
Cerberus emerged from the labyrinth and dropped a fleshy piece of something upon the ground beside Riga. She leaned into the dog’s chest, weak with relief. “My hero.” She straightened and picked up the blood soaked scarf. “That was my only Hermès scarf!”
“If we get out of here, I’ll buy you another,” Donovan said.
Cerberus settled down to gnaw on the bloody piece of flesh. Its three heads tore at it, growling happily and Riga backed away. Bits of bone and blood spewed from its jaws.
“Don’t bother,” she said. “So what else can you do? It would be helpful to know what we’ve got to work with.”
“Dionysus has no power over Hades domain, or over anything here that Hades has created. But a puncture wound isn’t going to stop me.”
“Can you heal others?”
“Down here? Let’s not test it.”
She tossed the scarf upon the ground, giving it up as a lost cause. “Fat lot of good you are.”
Donovan pointed to a dim glow of light upon the horizon. “That’s the palace. It’s another day’s march, so I suggest we camp here.”
Riga frowned, about to argue the point. Pen seemed so close. But Donovan’s face was drawn and reluctantly, she agreed.
“I’ll build a fire,” Vinnie offered, and hurried off across the barren landscape, where silhouettes of dead, twisted trees loomed in the dim light.
Riga and Donovan helped gather wood, and soon Vinnie had a sizable bonfire going.
“Got anything to eat?” Vinnie asked, looking hungrily at Riga’s bag.
She withdrew a packet of beef jerky and a candy bar. Her stomach rumbled. Cerberus sat up, looking hopeful.
Donovan gave Vinnie a hard look. “The dead don’t need to eat.” He pointed at Cerberus. “And neither does the dog.”
“I know,” Vinnie said plaintively. “It’s just been so long since I’ve tasted food.”
“I guess you’ve earned it, but we can’t spare much for you,” Riga said. “I’m sorry, Vinnie, but we’ve got a long walk tomorrow and Donovan and I will need fuel.” She snatched a water bottle from Vinnie’s hands. “But no water – we have to conserve.”
Vinnie grumbled, hungrily watching Riga and Donovan as they ate.
Riga sprang to her feet. “I’ll get more firewood,” she said with false cheerfulness.
Donovan staggered upright. “I’ll join you.”
They moved out of earshot, and Donovan said, “Good thing you’re a packrat.” He added another stick to the bundle in his arms. “Food, water, weapons… You are the woman of my dreams.”
“Good thing the terrain is flat. I didn’t bring much water.”
The shade of a Greek soldier walked past, trailed by two wailing ghosts. The soldier spared Riga a grim glance and marched onward.
“I hope we haven’t made a mistake with the fire,” Riga said. Cerberus lay stretched before it, panting. “You don’t think it will attract unwanted attention, do you?”
“I don’t think it matters much,” Donovan said. “Hades knows we’re here and we’ve got Cerberus.”
The strains of a banjo floated toward them.
Donovan shook his head in despair. “Vinnie.”
Riga could see Vinnie’s silhouette before the fire, cradling an instrument. He began to sing, his voice a rich baritone. She listened, spellbound.
“That’s a Josh Turner song!” Riga said. “Where did he learn it?”
“Where did he get the banjo?” Donovan asked.
Shades gathered around the fire as Vinnie sang on. There was magic in music and Vinnie, Riga thought with surprise, was a skilled bard. The lyrics wove themselves around her.
“For a small man, he’s got an awfully big voice,” she said.
It was one of her favorite songs and it made her feel a sense of longing. Cerberus crept to Vinnie, its heads lowered, and sat down upon its haunches, panting.
Donovan took her hand. “I’m sorry I wasn’t honest with you when we met. I didn’t know if you were the cause of all this or just another victim.”
She shook her head. “I would have done the same. I was suspicious of you, too.”
“With reason.”
“You followed me into hell. I guess that counts for something,” she said with a quick smile. “Even if you still have ulterior motives.”
He pulled her close and his lips brushed against hers, then gently covered her mouth. She felt herself melting into him, and knew it was all Donovan. His grip tightened and her soft curves molded to the contours of his body. She felt his uneven breathing on her neck and a shiver rippled through her.
Pen. She couldn’t be distracted. Not now.
Riga placed her hands upon his chest and stepped back. He released her immediately.
“This might not be the best time.” Her voice sounded ragged.
“No,” he agreed. But his burning eyes held her. “That wasn’t Dionysus kissing you, you know.”
“I know.”
Chapter 34: Persephone’s Tale
Riga awakened, unsure if she’d slept eight hours or a dozen. It was all the same in that half-light. After a breakfast of chocolate squares and beef jerky, they set off.
Vinnie’s performance had attracted a following. A group of shades in tattered togas trailed after him, wailing softly and reaching out to stroke him. He ineffectually flailed and cursed at their insubstantial touches. Finally, even Cerberus lost patience. His six lamp-like yellow eyes focused upon the shades and growls issued from his throats. The shades departed swiftly.
The palace loomed in the distance, growing ever closer as the four walked through dead forests and across blackened fields of lava. The mists turned sulfurous. Hades had cut a rotten deal when he agreed to make the underworld his home, Riga thought.
Finally, they reached the palace gates, its walls glittering obsidian. Colored banners hung limply above the battlements, an incongruous note amidst the gloom.
“Persephone’s touch,” Donovan said, when he noticed Riga’s interest.
There were no guards and they walked inside, unchallenged. Cerberus whined with pleasure and trotted t
o six giant bowls, filled with water and chunks of raw meat. He ate noisily, scattering bits of flesh across the black and white checked marble floor.
“I feel like I’m on a chessboard,” Riga muttered.
Donovan smiled wanly. “Knight or pawn?” He pointed toward a door in the far wall. “This way.”
The latch was ancient looking. Donovan smoothly slid back the bolt and opened the arched wooden door to expose a long hallway lit by torches. Voices echoed weirdly off the walls, distorted and angry. As they penetrated deeper into the castle, the sounds resolved into two voices – a man’s and woman’s.
“Pen!” Riga cried, running towards a tall, arched entry.
Donovan reached for her, missed. “Riga! Wait!”
Dark, cold fear hit her like a wave and she stumbled to a stop inside a high-ceilinged throne room. She took an involuntary step back, shivering.
A bald man wearing a black tunic stood there, arguing with a similarly garbed woman. He was the size of a small giant and they both wore heavy crowns of a dark metal. Behind them stood two mahogany-colored thrones, weighted with heavy cushions, and a smoldering brazier. A wide crevice split the stone floor between Riga and the couple. A low, dark cloud, bubbled from it, hovering just above the floor. The cloud flashed hypnotically with lightening, punctuated by rumbles of thunder.
“You must return it,” the man was shouting.
The woman tilted her head tilted back, hands upon her hips. “No!”
“It is an abomination!”
“It is delicious! I feel things again. My darling, I feel!”
“You feel! And yet you are unfeeling now, wife, to defy me!”
The woman’s jaw jut forward in a familiar slant. “Things have been the same for too long. This is not tradition; it is stagnation!”
Riga forced herself to take a step forward. She’d known where she was, who she’d come to see. But actually seeing them was an entirely different matter. “Pen?” she said, her voice barely a whisper.
Donovan caught up with Riga, and placed a hand on her arm in warning. Vinnie hovered in the archway, clinging to the shadows.
The couple turned their heads, taking notice of them, and Riga felt the fear rise from her stomach into her throat, choking her. Her hand dropped lifelessly to her side. The woman looked like Pen but she wasn’t Pen. It was a distorted Pen, a wrong Pen.
“Greetings, Lord Hades, Queen Persephone,” Donovan said, bowing his head slightly.
Hades’ eyes narrowed. “Dionysus. I almost did not recognize you wearing that human.”
Riga looked at the man beside her and smothered a gasp. Donovan had changed – Donovan and yet not Donovan – taller, his expression more arrogant, his eyes darker.
“You know why we are here,” Donovan/Dionysus said.
Hades made a noise of disgust. “You try to convince her to let the child go. I cannot force her and she will not heed me.”
“Because you are wrong!” Persephone said, her voice rising shrilly. “Why should I let her go?”
Hades exploded. “Is it not enough that I ask it of you?”
Riga felt the pieces falling into place. She’d been a fool. Hades hadn’t kidnapped Pen. He’d kidnapped his wife. Persephone had already hijacked Pen as a host. Riga cursed herself. Of course she hadn’t noticed anything different about her niece – she hadn’t been looking. But she should have been. Persephone’s presence explained Pen’s sudden ability to see ghosts; Persephone was queen of the underworld.
Persephone locked gazes with her and Riga felt a sudden lurch, as if the world had tipped beneath her. Then, as suddenly, it righted itself. Riga’s legs trembled. Donovan/Dionysus grasped her elbow, supporting her. A warmth spread through her body – happy, confident, almost giddy. She swallowed hard. This was the effect of Dionysus; she couldn’t let it take control.
Riga stepped away from him. She focused on the crevice that cracked the floor, on the roiling mist, on anything to distract her from the energies flying between the three archetypes. She watched the mist curl in upon itself, and felt something in her calm, the fear begin to diminish.
“I would never harm Pen,” Persephone was saying. “She is a good, and decent human. Her young emotions are intoxicating. So long ago, when I was young – did I feel like this? The wild passions and pains? I cannot remember.”
Riga tore her gaze from the mist, forcing herself to speak. “But – Queen Persephone, Pen has a life in her world. She must return to her family.”
“She cannot return,” Hades said. “The door has closed.”
Riga felt Dionysus start beside her. “Closed? How?”
He shrugged. “As mysteriously as it opened. It closed behind us.”
“The girl cannot return,” Persephone said. “I shall protect her, and she shall reign beside me here and in the above world.”
The touch of Dionysus had sent her spinning, but something about the mist grounded her. Riga felt safer the closer she moved to it. She edged toward the crevice. “Queen Persephone,” Riga said quietly, “you must remember how you felt when you were first brought here? The pain and shock of being kidnapped?”
“Kidnapped!” Hades roared. He flew across the chasm, fist raised. “You dare, human?”
She stumbled backward and Dionysus quickly stepped between them. “Uncle –“
Low growls issued from behind him and Dionysus fell silent. Cerberus stalked into the room, his heads low to the ground, a ridge of fur raised on its back. It bared its teeth in a snarl and its yellow eyes fixed upon Hades.
“Cerberus, heel!” Hades said.
The dog ignored him, its growls increasing in volume. It took a stealthy step toward Hades.
Persephone quailed behind her husband. “Why does the beast not obey?”
“He has a new master,” Dionysus said.
“You?” Hades sneered in disbelief. “The last time you were here he chased you up the battlements.”
“Not me. Riga Hayworth. And she desires the return of her niece.”
“No,” Persephone said flatly. “Pen belongs to me and I will not give her up. I came to accept my place here and someday she will as well.”
Rage flared through the remnants of Riga’s fear. Goddess or no, Persephone was a selfish, spoiled… “I’ll bet she’s fighting you now, though, isn’t she? She doesn’t want to be here. She doesn’t want to be controlled by you. Don’t pretend you’re acting in her best interest!”
“It makes no difference in any case,” Hades said. “The door is closed. All is as it was. You and your niece are the victims of poor timing. Had I known it was closing, I would not have bothered to collect my wife and she would have been returned here like the others, leaving their humans on the other side. I regret my action now. But we must live with what is.”
“Until the door opens again,” Dionysus said mildly.
Riga took another step closer to the split in the floor. How deep did it run? What was inside it? It had to have meaning for Hades and Persephone to let it be, scarring their polished floor.
“What do you mean?” Hades demanded. “What do you know of this?”
Dionysus cocked his head. “The gateway opened between our worlds – we do not know why. Now the gateway is closed, we do not know why. What is to keep it from happening again? This mystery has not been resolved.”
Hades turned and flew over the gap in the floor, returning to pace beside his wife. “Mysteries are all you care for. The door is closed. It is over.”
Now that he was no longer blocking her path, Riga stepped closer to the fissure, probing it with her mind. A series of images flooded her brain, beautiful and frightening and familiar. She had been here before. She leaned forward.
“Riga Hayworth.” The voice seemed to come from far away.
A strong hand grasped her upper arm, wrenching her back. “Careful! You nearly fell in,” Dionysus said.
She shook her head, dazed.
He released her.
“What is th
at?” she asked weakly.
Hades’ lip curled. “It is the place of dreams, human.”
“Where gods go when they die,” Dionysus said. “Not even I could journey there to retrieve you. None have returned from that place. You must be careful.”
She felt shaky, out of sorts. She had nearly tumbled into the underworld of the underworld. “How can a god die?”
“When we are forgotten, we cease to exist except in dreams.” Dionysus looked to Hades and his voice hardened. “But we were within days of total destruction – on this side and the other – before the passageway resealed. The next time the door opens, it may not close in time. If we can understand what happened, we might be able to prevent future occurrences. And send the humans back,” Dionysus added as if in afterthought.
Hades ascended to his throne and gave Dionysus a hard look.
Dionysus shrugged. “Oh, well. Some mysteries are not meant to be unraveled. Farewell Pen Hallows and, er, Queen Persephone. I am sure you will all be very happy together.” He turned away.
“Wait!” Hades said. “What do you want?”
Dionysus shifted, looking back at the royal couple. “Passage to Olympus. And the girl.”
“No!” Persephone cried out.
“The girl is not mine to give,” Hades said grudgingly. “But the other you may have.” He flourished his hand and a door appeared in the wall nearest them. “I suppose you will be taking this up with Zeus.” His tone was resigned, but there was a glint of humor in his eyes. “I’m afraid my brother may require you give the girl up, my darling. I cannot gainsay him.”
“You mean you will not! You – coward!” Persephone whirled off, slamming a door behind her.
Hades made as if to go after her, but sank back down. “My wife thinks she is in control, but as you see, the human is affecting her behavior. Persephone has not slammed a door upon me since I first brought her here.” He chuckled at the memory. “If Zeus were to know how Persephone was being affected, it might force him to action.” His eyes narrowed. “Though I wonder, dear nephew, how your human has changed you?”
The Metaphysical Detective (A Riga Hayworth Paranormal Mystery) Page 18
