Until Death

by E. A. Copen

  “I agree with the Horseman.” Hel’s heels clicked as she hastily came over to join us. “My nephew could have helped Loki. He could’ve killed thousands by himself if he chose to. Instead, he’s kept a low profile. You cannot punish him for behaving himself. It would set a bad precedent.”

  Hades conceded with a shrug. “Fine. So long as someone is keeping an eye on him, I suppose you’re right. That does, however, mean someone will have to go into Tartarus and retrieve the blood of a Titan there.”

  All eyes fell on me.

  I sighed. “Of course. I’d be happy to walk into a prison where absolutely everybody wants to chew on my guts. What could possibly go wrong?”

  Hades jerked as if I’d slapped him. “What? No, I wouldn’t dream of sending you in unarmed. What sort of god do you take me for?”

  “Thanks, Hades.” I said it sarcastically, but he took it as a compliment.

  He beamed and patted me on the back. “Think nothing of it! That is what friends are for, after all. Are they not? Now, if you’ll excuse me, there’s a private matter I’d like to discuss with Ereshkegal and her husband.”

  Gods and their politics. I was glad I’d stayed on the fringe of all that during my tenure as the Pale Horseman.

  I left them to it and slowly wandered in Guy’s direction, making nice with the few gods who smiled and nodded at me. They still seemed uneasy after what I’d done to Yama, and rightly so. I did have a reputation for killing so many gods in the early days of my career, but the folks in that room were heavy hitters who seemed to have forgotten what I was capable of. The reminder left them afraid. Josiah was right. I should’ve used that to my advantage a long time ago. Maybe then I wouldn’t have had to fight all those monsters on my own.

  Guy shoved a butter knife in his mouth and swallowed it as I approached.

  “Is there anything you can’t eat?” I asked.

  He thought for a minute. “I don’t like anchovies.”

  “Nobody likes anchovies. Pineapple on pizza?”

  Guy made a face. “They don’t actually do that, do they?”

  “Afraid they do.”

  He shook his head. “Some people have no taste.”

  I folded my arms and leaned against the wall next to him, watching people mingle. “Bacon or sausage?”

  “What?”

  “I’m trying to decide if I can trust you.”

  Guy closed one eye and raised an eyebrow. “And to do that, you need to know what type of breakfast meat I prefer?”

  I shrugged. It seemed as good a metric as any.

  “Neither,” said Guy after a moment, then corrected himself. “Or both, I guess. I don’t know. They’re both pig, and I’m more of a steak and eggs kind of guy. But if you put it in front of me, I’ll eat it. Just don’t give me the good china. Sometimes, I get carried away.”

  “Explains the candelabra,” I muttered. “And the butter knife. And the wine glass. What else have you eaten?”

  “Well, I haven’t eaten anything that was still alive for a while, so cut me a little slack, Judgy McJudgerson. You don’t see me coming to your house to comment on everything you eat, do you?”

  “Says the guy who followed me home to comment on all the raw meat in my fridge.”

  He leaned in. “That candelabra was way better for me than all that diet soda you’ve been drinking.”

  “I’ve been cutting back on calories!” I patted my stomach defensively.

  He snorted. “Well, you didn’t come over here for diet advice, that’s for sure. What’d you and the Bride of Frankenstein talk about over there?”

  “They’re going to let us through, but we’re missing a key ingredient to open the gate.”

  “Let me guess. The blood of a Titan.”

  I looked him over again. I don’t know why it surprised me that Guy knew so much about opening gates. Everyone was calling him a Voidwalker, and he was able to move through different planes of reality without breaking a sweat. It seemed only natural that he should know something about getting from one place to another in the underworld.

  I wished I would’ve had his assistance before. Had he known what I was doing when I went to Hell to retrieve Emma’s soul? Did he care? Someone should’ve stopped me, explained the consequences. I wouldn’t have listened, but maybe I would’ve done it differently and the world would be a better, more peaceful place.

  “Yeah,” I answered. “I’ve got the all-clear to go into Tartarus and get it, but I’m not looking forward to the trip. I put quite a few of the inmates back in there, and they won’t be too happy to see me.”

  That was to say nothing of my general distaste for prisons. Since dealing with Ikelos in Angola, that fear had only solidified. Knowing he would be lurking in Tartarus didn’t help, either.

  Guy sighed, stepped out of the corner, and adjusted his hat. “Let me get my coat, and I’ll go with you.”

  “You don’t have to. I wasn’t asking you to come.”

  He shrugged. “It’s no problem. Besides, it’s got to be more exciting than waiting around here. This is the least fun I’ve had since Berlin in ’45.”

  “Berlin?” I pushed away from the wall to follow him to the door.

  “Yeah, not exactly hopping after the Germans surrendered. Place was a shell of its former self. Grand buildings scorched black, gutted by fire, bombs, and looting. Never seen such a somber place. Of course, I missed the whole Black Death thing.”

  “Damn, man. How old are you?”

  He paused, holding open the door, and squinted at the ceiling as if it held the answer. “What year is it, again? Really, I don’t know. Time gets funny when you’ve been around as long as I have. Events sort of repeat themselves. Details get hazy as the years and places march by.”

  “But you saw the war firsthand?” I walked into the hallway and waited for him to join me.

  He closed the door quietly behind him and strolled on down the hall without ever stopping for me. “I’ve seen a lot of wars, kid. Most of them don’t stick out, but that one does. When your people look back at it, they tell the story in numbers. Seventy-two million dead soldiers. Thirteen million dead Soviets. Six million dead Jews. Do you even know what six million of anything looks like? I do. I do because I don’t tell that story in numbers. War’s not that kind of story. It’s the sort of story that ought to have a name and a face so you remember the human suffering. Reducing it all to numbers, statistics, and the names of faraway and hard-to-pronounce places dehumanizes it.”

  I stopped walking.

  Guy paused, hands in his pockets, and turned to me expectantly.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I’ve got to know. I need a straight answer, Guy. When we get to the Nightlands, what are you going to do?”

  He lifted his head slowly and pressed his lips into a thin line. “I see what this is about. You still don’t trust me, after all I’ve done, huh? You think that just because I’m one of them, I’m going to sell you out once we get there?”

  “Don’t twist this. You poisoned me.” I pointed at him.

  “And you know why I did it. If I was going to sell you out, do you think I’d stick with you through all this?” He gestured around him. “Why? If I wanted Mask to win, all I’d have to do was knock you out. And I could’ve dragged you into the Nightlands kicking and screaming at any time. I’m not. Do you want to know why I’m letting you do this the hard way?”

  I was silent. He had a point.

  Guy stepped in. “Because I have respect for your process, for your human need to matter. The truth is, I could’ve dragged you to the Nightlands the day we met and ripped your soul to shreds before feeding you to anyone I chose. That would’ve been much easier for me. Your existence is nothing but a tiny blip on my radar. Blink, and it’s gone. I don’t have to give a shit about you. Quite frankly, I don’t. But I’m trying because that’s what the good guys do. They try. You say there’s another way, so I’m letting you try. Even though I don’t believe you’ll succeed and I’m
going to wind up watching you die. You’re like…” He shook his head and looked me up and down, throwing his arms up. “You’re like a puppy who won’t learn to shit in the yard. If I was smart, I’d give up. Hand you off to someone else to deal with. But I ain’t. I’m dumb as a box of rocks. I should know after all the things I’ve seen. You humans. You don’t want to see past the obvious, do you? I can’t be one of the good guys because I look too much like one of the bad ones. Well, fuck you, pal.”

  I blinked. “That’s not… I wasn’t…”

  Except that I was. I’d judged him untrustworthy before he ever put poison in my coffee, just because I didn’t know or understand him. Somewhere along the way, distrust had become my default. It kept me safe, but it also darkened my view of the world, left me less open to connecting with others.

  I lowered my head and sucked in a breath. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I’ll try to do better.”

  His face relaxed and he leaned back, adjusting his jacket. “Yeah, well, I guess that’s good enough. Should we…hug?” He looked like he was in pain just suggesting it.

  I cringed. “I’d rather not.”

  “This is awkward.”

  “Yeah, let’s just pretend it never happened.” I cleared my throat and gestured forward. “You want to go fight some monsters or something?”

  Guy practically bounced down the hall to open the palace doors. “Thought you’d never ask.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  We waited around outside the palace for a little bit before Hades and Ereshkegal found us. They escorted us to the nearby riverbank, which flowed through the edge of the palace grounds.

  “I’ve spoken with Charon,” Hades said and shielded his eyes, looking upriver. “He’ll take you where you need to go.”

  I followed his eyes. In the far distance, I could just barely make out the black-robed figure of Charon, pushing his little rowboat through the dark river. “If I remember right, I can’t go from here straight to Irkalla. I’ll have to pass through Naraka first, and Charon won’t go there.”

  “Yama has granted Charon passage through his lands,” Hades continued, crossing his arms. “You’ll need to change boats once, but that’s a small matter. I’m sure it will be no trouble at all.”

  Ereshkegal folded her hands in front of her. “Once you reach Irkalla, Nergal will be waiting to escort you to the gate.”

  “So, we won’t have to walk down a million stairs this time?” My feet hurt just remembering that walk. Of course, the worst part hadn’t been the walk itself so much as the gates along the way. At each one, I’d been asked to give up something—a part of myself. By the end of it, I was practically giddy at the thought of moving on to the afterlife. I’d forgotten what it was like to be alive. Not something I wanted to repeat.

  She chuckled, a smooth, velvety sound. “No, you won’t have to go down the main stairs this time.” She flicked her wrist and a small, glowing, glass vial appeared in the palm of her hand.

  I leaned in, watching a bright, tiny flame dance inside the glass. “What’s that?”

  “Tiamat’s flame,” Ereshkegal said. “The flame that shaped the world. For a time.”

  Tiamat and I had met. Like most of my introductions to gods, it hadn’t gone well. She had crawled through a fire, melted her skin off, transformed into a dragon, and tried to eat me.

  “Take it, Horseman.” She lifted my hand and placed the fire in it.

  I flinched away from the bright light. “Does Tiamat know you’re giving that to me? I kinda got the impression she didn’t like me much.”

  Ereshkegal and Hades both laughed.

  I frowned. “Did I miss the punchline or what?”

  “Tiamat is temperamental on her best day,” Hades explained. “She doesn’t like anyone, really. But if you met her and lived, count yourself lucky and among a privileged few. She would’ve eaten you if she didn’t like you.”

  “Sounds like my kind of woman,” Guy said.

  I lifted the light to eye level and studied it. Streaks of orange and blue danced around a twisted pillar of black and green. “What’s it do?”

  She smirked. “It lights dark places and banishes shadows back to their realm. Use it sparingly, Horseman. It will only work once, and it will not burn forever. When you need it, remove the stopper and pour it into your hand. It will not burn you.”

  I thanked her and tucked the vial away.

  Charon was closing on our position, close enough that I could hear his eerie whistle bouncing off the surface of the water.

  “I promised you something as well.” Hades held out his hand and a long length of black wood appeared in his fist. He offered it to me.

  I took it and almost dropped it as the power bit into my palm.

  “That belonged to a rather moody ex of mine,” Hades said. “Circe liked to turn men who offended her into animals. I’m not sure if that’s all it can do, or if that’s simply how she chose to wield it. You’ll have to find that out for yourself. However, I expect having a big stick is better than nothing, right? You’ve always seemed competent with a staff.”

  I would’ve preferred something a little more deadly, like a sword, or maybe a tank. A magic length of wood no one knew how to use didn’t seem like the most practical gift, but that was Hades for you. He meant well, and he was murder in a fistfight, but a brainiac he was not.

  Charon moved his boat to shore. “All aboard for Tartarus, prison of the Titans! Oh, it’s you.” He swept his hooded head back and forth as if scanning the shore for someone else.

  I grabbed the boat and climbed in. “Don’t worry. Josiah’s not with me.”

  “Good.” Charon breathed a sigh of relief. “He still owes me for the boat he destroyed, you know. Who’s this, then? A Voidwalker? What is that doing here?”

  “I’m slumming it with all you numbskulls for a bit, walking the Earth. Or underworld, in this case, I suppose.” Guy grabbed the end of the boat and hopped in hard enough the boat splashed and swayed from side to side.

  “Be nice, Charon,” Hades advised.

  “Be nice, Charon,” Charon repeated in a sing-song voice as he pushed away from shore. “Take my friends here, Charon. Wait outside until they’re done. Bah! Since when is the mighty Charon a taxi driver for fools who don’t even know how to die properly?”

  “Since now.” Guy stretched out at one end of the boat, one leg crossed over the other.

  I gripped either side tight and squeezed my eyes shut. Since I was little, I never cared for boats of any kind. Almost drowning a few times over the last year and a half hadn’t made me love them any more. First, an Archon had nearly taken a bunch of kids and me out, and then I had to sail straight into a hurricane.

  When I tallied up all I’d done since becoming the Pale Horseman, it sounded like a tale out of an adventure novel. Kidnappings, murder, sword fights, magic, princesses, and pirates… Actually, my life was starting to sound a lot like my favorite film. I’d even been poisoned lately.

  I cracked open an eye to look at Guy. “You don’t happen to be Sicilian, do you?”

  He considered it for a moment, rolling his eyes from one side to the other. “I think there’s some Italian in this mook somewhere. That’s pretty close, right? Why do you ask.”

  “Oh, no reason. But if we run into any shrieking eels, we’ve totally jumped the shark.”

  He leaned to the side to catch Charon’s attention. “Hey, bud. Do you have any idea what this idiot is talking about?”

  “Not a clue,” said Charon, shaking his head. “Best just to nod and pretend you do, I find. Most humans are a little…” He made a circular motion next to his head.

  Guy nodded in agreement.

  “Hey, I’m probably the sanest one here!” I protested.

  Guy snorted. “Says the guy who ate five pounds of raw meat over the weekend and went to the mall the day after Christmas.”

  Point for Guy. That didn’t exactly scream sane. Then again, my whole life was one crazy advent
ure after the next. In a way, I was going to miss the madness once it was all over. There was something to be said for a good adventure, even if I did prefer to stay safe on the sidelines.

  The boat slid through the water while Charon picked up a tune that sounded strangely familiar, though I couldn’t put my finger on what it was. After a while, I saw our destination on the horizon: a huge, cement square behind a towering metal gate topped with razor wire. Ikelos had been as tall as a skyscraper. There was no way he was going to fit inside that. The building didn’t look near big enough to house one Titan, let alone many, but looks could be deceiving when it came to magic. Maybe Tartarus was a pocket dimension, a small space that unfolded into a larger space once we got inside.

  The river didn’t flow straight up to Tartarus, but Charon stopped the boat at the closest loop. “From here, you walk. I’ll be waiting for you when you come back. If you come back.”

  “That’s reassuring.” The boat rocked slightly as I climbed out. I made sure to avoid touching the water. A face surfaced, and inky black fingers reached up out of the muck toward me.

  Charon slammed his oar on them. “Bloody souls! Down! Stay down!”

  Guy jumped from the boat and landed on his feet on the shore just out of reach of any of the spirits, an impossible jump for a human. It was little things like that and eating glass that creeped me out about him. That, and my reaction to looking at his soul. I’d have to be careful not to turn on my Vision and look straight at him again.

  “A word of advice,” Charon called once he’d steadied the boat after Guy’s jump. “Get in. Move lightly. Then get out as quick as you can. Tartarus is home to more than just the Titans.”

  “Like what?” I asked.

  He lifted his head, and the light caught two gleaming eyes under his hood. “The truly wicked go there, the darkest of the damned. It’s a place of eternal punishment and suffering. You’ll find the Titans on the lowest level. I’d use the elevator if I were you. You’ll find it just inside the building and to the right, past the Starbucks.”