OF WAR Anthology Novels 1-3

by Lisa Beth Darling

  “What do you do? Split it with them?” Raven snorted, tossing his head to where the Leviathans with their scaly gray serpent-like bodies and massive fangs jumped out of the river and dove in again making the water unstable. “I told you, not until we get across.” He held onto the sides of the leaky boat while the water pushed them closer to the patches of flames threatening to burn the boat in the water. There was no way the Olympians would let that happen, no way they would let him die here in the Dark Water trapped for all Eternity being chased and devoured by the Leviathans. They wanted to see what he was made of as much as he did. “Just keep going.” Raven turned his eyes to the far bank that was growing nearer. Already he heard screaming, yelling, and people crying in agony behind the Gate.

  Charon turned to Raven as the boat knocked against the far shore and held out his bony hand for payment.

  Raven reached into a pocket of his leather vest and pulled out a handful of gold coins that he handed over to Charon. “If you wait here I’ll give you more. Much more.”

  “I’ve heard that before,” Charon told him with something that sounded like a smile in his eerie voice. “I will wait, but only until sunrise, after that I must return to my duties,” he pointed across the River Styx to where so many thousands of souls were waiting.

  “I’ll be back.”

  “Heard that too,” Charon said and began to laugh heartily as Raven climbed out of the boat and made his way to the hideous and fearsome Gates where he watched the young, untested Olympian pause a moment before dashing through.

  The tunnel through the Gate was pitch dark. It was small, so narrow, Raven had to stand sideways to squeeze past walls oozing a foul smelling liquid akin to old blood. It stuck to his hands and squished through his toes as he felt his way along the ancient slime-covered stone. It made them tingle and burn as though whatever it was, it was trying to work its way into him. The smell was so bad it made him want to double-over and retch. Raven didn’t know how long he walked before a pinprick of light glimmered far ahead; he only knew he kept focused on it. It seemed forever before it came closer, like a mirage in the desert.

  Finally, he emerged on the other side. Raven looked around and found himself standing on a wide road. “You’ve gotta be kidding me,” he mused, taking in the long stretch of road paved with yellow bricks winding out before him. “Guess we’re not in Kansas anymore,” he murmured, feeling his lungs fill with the strange heavy air as he plodded onward.

  It wasn’t long before Raven came to the Asphodel Fields, a place akin to Limbo. It was a place where those who were neither truly good nor truly bad in their lives and the souls of those still unhappy, having not yet made peace with their deaths waited. These lost shades remained before moving deeper into the Under World. They went about daily tasks that never amounted to anything, day in and day out, they repeated the same things over and over with no idea they were even doing it. All the while, the well-paved road leading to their Eternity and possibly their Reward lay at their feet untouched.

  Here, while the air was thick and oily, there was warmth and fading light. It almost looked and felt like twilight but looking up he saw no sun, no sky, no stars, only dusky light without a source. There were rolling hills, and trees, Asphodels as far as the eye could see, covering the broad expanse with their tall star-like blooms of delicate white flowers. If Raven didn’t know better, he might think he was still Top Side. If it wasn’t so hard to breathe, If the air didn’t coat his lungs with disgusting ooze, and if his body didn’t feel laden with lead, he might think just that.

  Raven saw no reason to dilly-dally and the souls here didn’t even take note of him as he wandered past, making his way further down on the road. On his path, he discovered Ares was right, if he just relaxed and went with it the air became easier to breathe but the disgusting taste and feel at the back of his throat wouldn’t go away. He became more accustomed to what seemed to be heavier gravity here in the Under World, though it was more strenuous than it was Top Side. He also grew accustomed to the heavy feeling in his limbs and using more strength to pick up and put down his feet. With the ‘sky’ overhead turning to full night, Raven passed through the first level of Vale of Mourning, where the souls of those who’d let their lust consume them and those famous but not blameless in war resided for Eternity. This place was dark and damp, the chill sunk into Raven’s bones as he wandered through, taking note of the unhappy shades around him.

  Continuing on his journey, Raven finally came to the Dividing Road and the Plane of Judgment. In this wide spot in the road branching off in two directions, the shades that made it this far would learn their Ultimate Fate; The Elysian Fields or Tartarus. The road was empty, no Judges stood here. Raven looked left and then right trying to decide in which direction he should go. The choice seemed obvious to him; the path to his right was lined with wildflowers and green grass whereas the path to his left led into darkness illuminated by a strange red light glowing deep within.

  Taking a few steps to the left, Raven didn’t get very far before he walked straight into an invisible wall blocking his path. A light flashed behind him, Raven turned around to see the Judges; Aecus, Minos, and Rhadamanthys. Three of the most illustrious Sons of Zeus stood there, each with a cold stare sizing up the young man before them. Each man had proven himself in battle, each man proved himself a hero in his own way and the Gods looked upon each man favorably. Having completed their laborious tasks in the Upper World with glory and esteem, now here in the Under World Hades rewarded them with these positions of immense power.

  “Raven, Son of Ares God of War,” Minos, their leader, began, his face old and riddled with the dark spots of ancient burns. Once he was the most beloved King of Crete, reigning over that beautiful island and many others in the Aegean Sea for more than sixty years before meeting the very ghastly end of being scalded to death, leaving him scarred for Eternity. It was not a very fitting end for a warrior credited with building the first navy to guard his shores and storm those of his enemy. “Are you sure you want to continue with this folly? It’s not too late to turn back.”

  Raven didn’t have to think about it. “I’m not going anywhere but forward.”

  “Why do you seek to be recognized as an Olympian?” Rhadamanthys asked.

  “Because I am an Olympian.”

  The three Judges looked from one to the other and back again as they sorted out the situation telepathically. Finally, after much consideration, Minos turned to him. “Interesting choice of words, for are you not also Fey and Human?” Minos asked with a slight frown.

  “I am an Olympian,” Raven asserted.

  The Three Judges solemnly shook their heads. “That which you seek has wandered deep in Tartarus. For her trespass, she now hangs over the River Phlegethon in a cage that is ever falling. If you free her before her prison descends into the river of blood-fire, you must escort her to the Elysian Field. However, if you do not, this lost innocent shade, she will burn in the river for Eternity. Your Trial will fail and you will never obtain that which you seek with such desperation. Do you understand, Son of Ares God of War and the Human-Fey Magdalena MacLeod?”

  Raven winced at the recognition of his heritage and his Mother’s name but strongly replied, “Yes, I do.”

  “What you seek is there, beyond the lowest levels of Vale of Mourning to the far side of Dis.” Rhadamanthys pointed down the blocked path beyond which fiery darkness waited. “Beware all is not what it seems in that place.”

  “Those guarding the shade will go to extremes to keep her and ensure your failure,” Aecaeus warned.

  The three Judges faded from the road as the way in front of Raven, previously obstructed by an unseen force, opened, freeing Raven to resume his travel on the yellow brick road that opened to a vast black field. It was barren, completely devoid of trees, flowers, mountains, and streams of cool water, devoid of any landmarks, and judging the distance between him and his destination was nearly impossible. It could be a single mile or a hund
red for all he could tell.

  They were in there, Raven could barely make out their outline, but they were there. The ancient snaking walls of the crumbling City of Dis—the City of the Dead—encompassing Tartarus standing between him and his goal. Before the walls, buried deep in a steaming canyon rolled the hellish River Phlegethon. Down there, it churned with blood-fire spewing that hostile crimson glow into the encroaching blackness. It circled Dis, cutting it off from the rest of the Underworld, to ensure those condemned stayed in their sadistic prisons and that those who should not enter did not. Except for the shade that Raven was being sent to retrieve.

  Before he could begin thinking about the perils awaiting him at the river, he had to get across the canyon and then past the walls of Dis and through the pestilent city. When he got there, Raven thought he would meet the first of Hades’ challenges; the Furies who guarded the outer perimeter. They were known to be able to get into a man’s head and make him do anything they wanted by filling his mind with anger and hatred.

  Strolling toward the city walls, Raven knew he had enough problems with anger and hatred for the Furies to be able to use it against him. When he got there, he had to clear his mind of all that he felt about his Mother, his Sister, and, most of all, Zeus, who he’d like to bitch slap one day.

  The distance between the Dividing Road and the third level of the Vale of Mourning proved further than he thought; Raven’s strong legs began asking for respite but he did not give in to their request. Instead, he just kept walking. As though the nasty oily air weren’t bad enough, as he walked on it began stinking with a veil of smoke and sulfur. It stung his nose and made his lungs burn. Raven kept waving his hand in front of his face trying to clear it but it was no good. Bringing the heavy collar of his Father’s vest up, he buried his mouth and nose behind it trying to filter the putrid air. The first waves of heat met him as he traveled.

  Soon enough the smoke rising off the burning river grew from a light veil to a dense fog, it assaulted his eyes, causing them to well with tears and blur his vision. Trying to keep focused on the contrast of the yellow bricks at his feet to stay on the path, Raven kept his head down until the clearly defined road at his feet began disappearing, not just under the curtain of smoke, but back into the dirt of the Underworld until there was nothing left to show him the way.

  Nothing left but the barely visible silhouette of the Walls of Dis dancing in a glow of red heat radiating from the waiting river before it.

  Continuing forward with sharp ears and eyes, Raven began hearing something in the distance. His ears pricked up as he tilted his head toward the sound but couldn’t make anything coherent, just the faint sound of cries. Soon those faint cries grew louder until they swelled into an angry chorus belted out in the anguished shrieks of Flaming Shades. Raven saw them not far from him, the tens of thousands, their fiery frames lit up the smoky darkness as they ran screaming for release from their agony but it would never come to them. Sentenced to Eternity deep within the Vale of Mourning for their vile acts of heresy and dissidence, their punishment was to be set forever aflame.

  The farther he walked into the lowest level of the Vale, the more Flaming Shades appeared seemingly from nowhere until their blazing bodies dispersed the darkness, until the thick smoke all around him glowed with a ghastly crimson-orange. Their endless screams thundered from long dead lungs, filling the stagnant oily air with their shrill song. Raven’s eardrums began to throb and then pound, within seconds he was sure they would begin to bleed and then burst as the god-awful screeching pierced through him, making him wish he were already deaf.

  Raven clasped his hands tightly to the sides of his head trying to drown out the wretched sound but that only served to make the vibrations resonate through his unusually weighty frame. The heat coming off them made him break out in a heavy sweat as his legs grew heavy then weak, threatening to give out from under him as though the screams themselves were driving him to his knees and to madness beyond.

  “SHUT…UP!” Raven bellowed as he fought the urge to collapse to the black sandy soil below his bare feet. For a single blessed moment there was silence, golden silence, and then the Flaming Shades turned to look at him. Then they ran at him in a great wave of fire. “Oh, shit,” he muttered, drawing the spear from the holster on his back, wishing he were in the Upper World where he would bring forth an ice storm so frigid and fearsome that it would freeze the whole lot of them at his will. With the spear tucked under his arm, Raven took a fighting stance, waiting for them to descend but fearing the sheer heat of them would cook him first. Sweat broke out so thick and heavy it covered every inch of his lithe body, making his hand slick and his eyes sting. With his depth perception at a minimum, Raven crouched low and made a full sweep with the spear hoping to hit the Flaming Shades and keep them back. The motion was swift and expert as the spear cut the strange air making a loud whoop as it went.

  The Flaming Shades in the Sixth Circle of Hell grew brighter with the rush of air to feed them, stirring a long dead hunger within. Fiery faces gnarled in anger and victory as they closed in. Raven took another full-circle sweep with the spear. This time it went right through those closest to him, cutting them in half for a moment only to have them come back together to continue their approach with blazing hands outstretched.

  Their burning souls quickly used up all of what passed for air in the Underworld until Raven couldn’t get a single gasp of it. The force that crashed down upon him wanting to bring him to his knees grew stronger as the air grew weaker, as the rushing roar of flames created a vacuum around him threatening to collapse his lungs even as it turned the remaining air in them to steam. Gathering his fleeting strength, Raven stabbed out with the spear and watched it pass through the nearest attacker to no avail. When he drew it back he noticed a curious thing; the six foot wood handle wasn’t charred or burned in the slightest; neither was the razor sharp blade at the end.

  “They’re not real,” he mumbled, taking in the sight of the unblistered spear. “Get back!” Lashing out again, he tried to hold onto the belief that what he was seeing had no power over him. The strike hit a flaming shade in front of him. When it passed through its burning body, he felt weight, as though he hit something more than air. The shade stumbled backwards but the others continued their onslaught. Raven knew the spear wouldn’t be enough but he did have something else. Dropping the spear to the hot soil, he yanked the stopper out of one of his wineskins. He held up the skin like a gun, gave a good squeeze, and a good stream of water spurted it from it as he made another sweep.

  The Flaming Shades screamed they stumbled backwards in retreat. Raven hit them again. Again, they screeched in agony as their power, their heat, and their fire began to fade. Another blast and those nearest him went out like candles in a rainstorm, leaving little wispy trails of smoke behind.

  “You’re DEAD. You’re NOTHING.” Raven let another spurt fly as he picked up the spear to holster it and then take a few steps forward. Steps that quickly grew from hesitant to assured as the Flaming Shades backed up in horror. “Get away from me, go back to the hell you’re sentenced to and I won’t send you to Oblivion.” To accentuate his point, Raven gave the skin another squeeze. Most of the Flaming Shades already backed out of reach of the stream but a few brave defiant ones remained; when the water hit them they turned to steam, convincing their compatriots to turn fiery tail and run.

  With his bare feet buried in the hot soil and the air around him returning to ‘normal’, Raven stood trying to catch his breath, watching the blazing army flee. Wiping his forearm across his sweaty brow to clear the layer of glistening sweat, he listened to his heart thundering in his chest and felt the rush of adrenaline bolt through him. This was his first real battle and he was victorious. Wherever he was, Raven hoped Ares was watching with pride.

  His throat parched and his lips dry, Raven raised the skin in his hand to his and gave it a squeeze. A long stream of hot water emerged but it soon died out. Letting the liquid wash
down over his throat hoping it would take away some of the oily taste clinging there he shook the skin.

  Empty.

  He won the battle but at what cost? He lost half his water. Standing there looking at the limp empty skin, Raven felt anger spark within him at the realization he’d been tricked. The Flaming Shades’ true purpose hadn’t been to main or kill him but to make him use up his precious water before he even arrived at Dis. Knowing he would have to be even more cautious with his water ration Raven risked a short gulp from the full skin. He let out enough to wet his lips and relieve his throat of that oily taste but nowhere near enough to quench his aching thirst or replace all the precious fluid his body lost in gallons of sweat.

  Looking behind him with disgust, he thought;

  Maybe I should just turn back now.

  Gazing ahead once more, the City of Dis appeared even further away than it had before. With so little water and so much heat coming off the river…

  I’m Immortal, I have until the End of Time, why should I risk that down here? For them?

  His bare feet seemed to agree as they turned his body back in the direction he came only to begin carrying him along away from the crumbling city walls.

  Those bastards will just have to accept me the way I am because I AM an Olympian and there’s nothing they can do about it. I don’t have to prove it to them or do any of their stupid tests. They can suck my nuts. This shit bites.

  Before he knew it, Raven was charging back toward the River Styx with his dark hair flying out behind him, his arms pumping, and his feet pounding the warm soil as fast as the heavy gravity would let him.

  Stupid fucking sons of bitches! Who the hell do they think they are making ME go through this? I’ll show those pricks…I’ll…I’ll

  Running at full bore, Raven suddenly stopped in his tracks and looked around. He took a deep breath and tried to clear his head. The only way to prove himself to the Olympians was to complete these Trials and when he entered the Underworld he was determined to do just that so….