Sirenz Back in Fashion

by Charlotte Bennardo

  “Hi, Hydra,” said Caz.

  One of the heads nodded at us.

  “Life’s too short and eternity too long to look that ugly,” I said, moving closer to him while Eurydice inched nearer to me.

  Caz stepped right up to the monster. “I want to see my grandfather.” One head kept a steady watch on us while the others monitored the patrons.

  “Thisssss way,” it hissed.

  I clutched Caz’s hand and, filled with trepidation but determined, followed, with Eurydice silent behind me.

  The place was just like any casino I’d seen in movies, except there were females of various species—human, serpent, satyr, and some I couldn’t make out—parading around in glitzy outfits, carrying drinks or hawking cigarettes, cigars, and other things that could kill, but hey, not a problem here, right? There were gaming tables, gamblers, dealers, and throngs of seemingly happy people and um, creatures. Everyone looked like they were having a good time. What was so hellish about the Pit?

  An argument between a Minotaur and a Cyclops broke out. Tables got smashed, chairs got thrown, and patrons quickly ducked for cover.

  Then HE came out—easily twelve feet tall, packed with hairy gray muscle and clawed hands, one ankle tethered by a shackle and a length of mammoth black chain. He stomped over to the table, picked up the duo, and promptly ate them. When he started crunching the bones, I had to put fingers in my ears.

  Going vegan like Meg!

  “You wanted to see me?” growled the monstrosity.

  Caz swallowed nervously. “Yes.”

  I was happy to let Caz take the lead. It was his turn anyway; I secured the boat ride and Eurydice gave the directions.

  “I prefer to do business in the lounge. Follow me.” The Hydra bowed and slithered off. We followed Kronos—it couldn’t be anyone else, with the deference everyone showed him—into a lounge area. After he seated himself, we took chairs not too close, not too far, lest we offend.

  “What do you want and what do I get out of it?” he barked.

  Caz cleared his throat. “We need to get out of Tartarus, and to do that, we must pass through the Pit. We need your permission.”

  Kronos sat back and regarded us with an odd air.

  “You have some nerve, son of Zeus, nephew of Hades.”

  “Grandson of Kronos,” said Caz, shifting ever so slightly in his seat. “But you can’t chose your relatives.”

  Kronos gave a short harsh snort. “Yes, I’ve learned that, to my downfall.” He turned a gimlet eye on me. “You’re a brave thing. Why do you want to get out of Tartarus? I hear Hades is a very cordial host—to females.”

  I shrugged nervously. “I don’t feel the same about him. I want to go home.”

  He studied me critically, then glanced at Eurydice. “Back again? Some people never learn.”

  The stage lit up and a nice-looking man strutted out, dressed in an abominable lizard-green leisure suit. He started singing Elvis’ “Hound Dog” and Kronos tapped his fingers in time to the music.

  I heard the sharp intake of Eurydice’s breath.

  “Sings pretty good, doesn’t he?” Kronos jerked his head in the direction of the stage. Lounge Lizard jiggled his hips and crooned into the microphone.

  “Yes, very. He sounds just like Elvis,” I said amiably.

  “He just had to look back,” said Eurydice, shaking her head.

  Kronos’ mouth twisted into a malicious grin. “That’s Orpheus. Hades banished him here for being a putz and failing his test.”

  Oh.

  Caz gently squeezed my leg. Not a grope—he wanted me to be quiet. Not a prob. If Kronos got ticked off, no sense in me becoming entrée for one.

  Caz turned away from the stage. “Will you let us pass?”

  After a long moment of staring, first at Caz, then at Eurydice and me, Kronos finally slammed the table and everyone in the place jumped.

  “Yes,” he said, with a slow, wicked smile as he leaned closer. “But passage to the mortal world is a valuable commodity. Freedom isn’t free, you know.”

  Here it comes, I thought.

  He licked his lips. “I demand a kiss.”

  Oh damn. He won’t ask Caz to pucker. Eurydice is pretty! Pick her!

  “The mortal. I want her.” Kronos pointed a black nail at me.

  Double damn! Why is it always me?? I wondered why I had to pay the fare for everyone. But was there any other choice? No.

  “Fine,” I muttered, steeling myself. What kind of kiss could he possibly want? After that last meal, a piece of skin was sticking in his front teeth.

  Ewwww! No tongue!

  Fast as lightning, Kronos bent over and placed a chaste kiss on my cheek.

  That’s it? I looked at him, bewildered.

  “When you get to the surface, you must pass that on to your sister-Siren.”

  I opened my mouth to ask why when Caz squeezed my leg again.

  “Um, okay.”

  Kronos leaned in and held me with his eyes. “Pay attention, pretty human. This is no jest. If you do not pass on the token of freedom I’ve just given you, both you and she will find yourselves back here, not frolicking in Hades’ Elysian Fields. This will be a far less pleasant venue than what you see now—and there will be no escape.”

  I nodded fearfully. As soon as I saw Meg I’d plant one on her. Anything to get his rank breath out of my face.

  Kronos clicked his claws like a crab and the hideous Hydra appeared at his elbow.

  “Escort them to the back door.”

  The Hydra nodded, we rose, and before I could grudgingly thank him, Kronos disappeared.

  Orpheus, finished with his song, stood to the side, wiping the sweat from his brow. He and Eurydice locked glances. He gaped as we passed and tried to say something, but one of the Hydra’s heads leaned close and hissed, “Sssssilensssse! Follow ussss!”

  He nodded mutely and fell into step.

  “Idiot,” murmured Eurydice, but she clasped his hand tightly.

  The decadent halls of the casino, the plush carpets and dripping chandeliers, gave way to cramped corridors. The elegant gold wall paper disappeared and cracked paint took its place. Here and there naked bulbs flickered in broken wall sconces.

  At the end of the dingiest passage, we came to a door with a lurid red exit sign hanging askew over the top.

  “Thissss isss the passssssage to the mortal world,” the Hydra hissed. One head turned to Caz: “You go firssssst.” Another swiveled to me: “You follow.” The third moved to Eurydice: “You nexsssst,” and a fourth head said, “You’re lasssst thissss time, Orpheusssss.”

  Its gruesome body slithered and writhed so that it was poised to leave us, but then one of the heads darted back to within centimeters of Caz’s face. “Don’t look back! None of you! Not until all have passsssssed!” Then it wriggled away, leaving a trail of neon green slime in its wake.

  Caz opened the door. I could just make out the beginning of a tunnel, craggy and foul-smelling. Bare feet. Party dress. This was going to be fun.

  Caz scanned the distance. One hand on his hip, he rubbed his brow. “It was too easy.”

  “You try scaling rocks and jumping ship in a gown and bare feet,” I retorted.

  Mistrust in his eyes, he shook his head. “Kronos ate his own children to retain his power. Don’t you think that giving you a peck on the cheek is too little to ask? And then”—he looked incredulous—“Orpheus can just walk out?” He shook his head. “I don’t like it.”

  While he pondered, I wondered. What harm could come of a kiss? And maybe Kronos let Eurydice and Orpheus go as a big fat Greek “kiss my ass” to Hades. Father and sons did have an all-out I-hate-you-I’ll-get-you mentality. No matter what happened, I couldn’t thwart the gods—it was going to be
what it was going to be.

  “Let’s go. We can’t turn back now.” Caz took my hand. “I won’t look back,” he said, his voice steely and controlled. “Even if any of you plead. And don’t you look back, no matter what you hear, or think you hear. Got it?” His face was grave.

  “Nothing is going to stop me.” I returned his gaze.

  “Nor me,” said Eurydice. She turned to Orpheus. “Don’t. Make. The. Same. Mistake. AGAIN.” She gave him a fierce look and a desperate kiss.

  He squared his shoulders. “I’m ready.”

  Quickly, Caz grabbed me to him and, finding my mouth with his, kissed me. My head spun with the heady pleasure. It might be the last kiss I ever got if things went wrong. I put all my desperate longing into his warm, soft lips, leaving us both panting, breathless for more.

  “For good luck,” I said, as we pulled away.

  He nodded once and started up the narrow path that only allowed a single person at a time to pass. It seemed as though the distance between us started to grow. How could that be? I was almost running up the steep, rocky path, my poor toesies feeling every pebble. The sound of Eurydice’s steps behind me soon disappeared; Orpheus’ were long gone.

  This has to be an illusion. It’s Hades’ way of keeping the prisoners in.

  Huffing and puffing, I could barely make out Caz up ahead, but there was a pinpoint of light which I hoped was the end of this long, dark, draining ascent. To keep my focus on climbing and not on the slithering, whispering sounds that seemed to follow me, I hummed a song that Meg played often. I couldn’t remember the words or the title, but the tune was catchy.

  For the first ten minutes.

  Tired of that, I went through every song I’d ever heard; Christmas carols, songs learned in school, oldies my parents sang, anything. The light was getting bigger, but the sounds moved closer and every once in a while, out of the corner of my eye, I saw glowing eyes watching me. I kept the path in front of me in sight all the time, and kept climbing.

  Caz was gone.

  Doesn’t matter. It’s a trick. Keep going.

  My hands were bloody and painful from the sharp rocks, and my feet blistered. Once I almost lost my balance and nearly twisted my ankle.

  I kept climbing.

  My lungs burned, my heart stammered, and my legs wobbled.

  I pushed on. Almost there.

  When I thought I’d never make it, the opening was suddenly there, even if Caz wasn’t. I climbed up to the light and when I stepped through, I rejoiced.

  I’d made it. And so had Caz.

  Kronos’ tunnel opened into the mortal world inside what looked like a janitor’s closet. What I thought was a boulder turned out to be a bucket on wheels with a mop; rocks were really spray bottles and rolls and rolls of TP; the pinpoint of light a naked bulb hanging from the ceiling. I threw myself into Caz’s arms, feeling both our hearts pounding as we labored to catch our breaths. We stood like that until our pulses slowed.

  “We made it,” I whispered, brushing his smooth cheek with my dirty hand.

  “Yes,” he replied in a husky voice, and kissed me. As much as I adored the sweetness of his kisses, this wasn’t the time, and certainly not the place, to explore each other’s mouths. I gently pulled back.

  We hesitated, not daring to look at the tunnel behind us—neither of us wanted to risk going back to the Underworld. Sadly, I heard no sounds from below, no one coming up. I hoped they hadn’t failed the test again, but we couldn’t go back in and check. Their fate was their own.

  Then, through the closet door, I heard and felt the thump of heavy bass. The bulb flickered, then burned brighter. Cautiously we snuck a peek around; there was no tunnel opening anymore, only a shelf of cleaning supplies.

  Caz’s head dropped. “They didn’t make it.”

  “Maybe they ended up somewhere else. I hope they’re together at least,” I whispered.

  I opened the closet door, and gasped as we stepped out into the gymnasium of the Academically Independent High School of New York. It was nice of Kronos to send us here, not abandon us in a far-off desert, the tundra, or one of a thousand other awful places. I was home ! And at the Spring Fling ! It was almost enough to make me cry with joy. I rushed past astonished students and teachers, into the midst of the dance.

  Caz ran over to a tall girl with an angular face and long dark hair, dressed all in black, and hugged her. Next to them was Jeremy, looking confused and angry. Where was Meg? Was there a time limit for giving that kiss?

  I ran up and stopped in front of Jeremy. He backed up a step and wrinkled his nose. Here we go again, I thought. Then I looked down at my formerly fabulous ball gown. It was torn and streaked with mud and some oozy green stuff—probably slime from the Hydra. And it didn’t smell too good. I didn’t want to think about what my face looked like. Still, I smiled eagerly.

  “Where’s Meg?” I blurted, overly bright.

  “Uh … ” He hesitated and eyed me with suspicion. “She went to the bathroom.”

  People around us stood motionless, staring.

  “Thanks!” I said and dashed away, not caring who saw or who followed.

  Meg

  The Naked Truth

  I walked as swiftly as I could, holding the fleece in front of me, my cheeks burning. Dancing couples turned to look at me as I passed—was it my newfound exhibitionism or the fleece? I didn’t care; this would all be over in minutes.

  I waited in the shadows for the ladies’ room to clear out. When a large group departed, I hurried in. The common area was empty, and crouching—as much as I could in the restrictive “dress”—I could see no pairs of feet in the stalls. The stage was set for me to make my grand exit, and I knew I didn’t have much time.

  Looking in the mirror, I was startled by my own reflection. The scales glittered under the bright overhead lights. They hugged my chest, my hips and my thighs, giving me a streamlined look. It was eye-catching and it looked … great. If I ever get back, I thought, and if I ever go to another club or dance, I’m going to wear something like this again.

  The thought surprised me, then brought me back to the reason I was here in the first place—Shar. I had to get out of here and find her. I nodded at myself in the mirror, took a deep breath, and held up the fleece.

  I heard fast footsteps in the hall outside. It was time; I wasn’t about to do this in front of anyone.

  “Here goes,” I said, and swung the thing behind me to drape it over my bare shoulders.

  I heard the door squeal on its hinges and prayed that the innocent people coming into the bathroom wouldn’t be scarred for life if they saw what happened next. But the fleece never touched me; it was ripped out of my hands. As I turned to see who’d come in, someone crashed into me and knocked me over. My head smacked against the wall. Scales dug into my leg; spots danced before my eyes, blurring my vision; and my breath left with a whoosh.

  “Meg!”

  Shar’s voice?

  “Meg!” Someone was slapping my cheek. As soon as my eyesight cleared, I saw Shar. She was dressed in a filthy pink shimmering dress that looked like it came out of one of those cast-of-thousands MGM Technicolor movies, and her face and hands were smudged with dirt.

  “Stop slapping me!”

  She grabbed my face and planted a hard kiss on my cheek.

  “First you hit me, then you kiss me?” I said, rubbing the spot, laughing and crying at the same time. “I’m glad to see you, too, but how did you—”

  I had to stop; my teeth were chattering so much that I could barely get any words out. If I was freezing before, I was a block of ice now. I started to get up, and Shar gasped. She scooped up the fleece from the floor, held it in front of me, and steered me into a corner. A glance in the mirror told me why; the scales were gone. I was nekid. For real this time!


  And we weren’t alone.

  Three people stood behind her.

  “Shar?” I heard Jeremy say uncertainly.

  He walked over and looked at her, then turned to Paulina and another guy, and looked from them to Shar to me, confused and questioning. I didn’t know who the stranger was; he was tall, with tousled blond hair. His blue suit was filthy, and his shirt, streaked with grime and half unbuttoned, hung out of his pants.

  And why was he wearing a Superman tee underneath?

  He smiled at me, with a familiar crooked grin. Paulina, standing next to him, could have been his sister; she was just as tall, with similar but not identical features. Both gazed down at me with warm gray eyes. It took everything I had not to stare at one of them, then the other. I felt my heart fluttering in my chest, butterflies in my stomach.

  What the hell was wrong with me?

  Paulina was a guy.

  How could I have missed it? There was no mistaking it now. Gone was the scarf. Her—no, his—shirt was unbuttoned to the middle of his taut chest. With glasses off and hair brushed aside, I could make out the faint, bluish tint of shadowy stubble on his chin.

  “I knew you’d never send me away,” he said, his lips cracking into that weird half sneer, half grin.

  “What?” Jeremy’s eyes went from confused, to hurt, to angry in the course of about four seconds. “Okay. Now it all makes sense,” he said, more to himself than anyone else. He gritted his teeth, clenched his fists, and glowered at me, his face flushed with rage. “First, I don’t hear from you for days. After that it’s one-word answers, week after week. You’re always late—if you show at all. And you’re always with your new roommate.” He lowered his head and laughed mockingly. “You never really had a new roommate, did you?” He jerked his head at Paulina—or Paul, or whatever his name was—and then turned an icy stare on Shar. “Covering for Meg. Nice. Well, enjoy, man.” He turned on his heel and rammed “P” in the shoulder as he left, slamming his palms against the door to open it.