War God's Mantle- Underworld

by James Hunter

  And for the love of fuck, we had to fix our messaging system. We couldn’t be afraid to communicate, especially not during battle.

  Loxo drew close to us. The clouds still covered the sky, but there was no rain and no thunder. It was rather chilly, or was that the effects of Antiope’s bracers still affecting me?

  The mystery woman wore a flowing gown made of some wispy material. She was barefoot, and while I’m not a big foot guy, she had the cutest toes I’d ever seen. My eyes travelled up her body, brushing over her nice round thighs and shapely chest, before landing on her face—creamy skin, elfin nose, full red lips, and green eyes the color of a verdant forest. Wait, no, blue eyes the color of the foamy surf. No, now her eyes were speckled like robin’s eggs, and then they turned a slightly yellow color before mellowing into a brown that grew darker until they were almost black. Then, they were green jewels again, as bright as emeralds.

  Her hair was the same. I’d swear it was honey-colored and smelled like perfume, until it became auburn—a dark red color, heavy on the browns—and then with a second look, it was brown, the exact color of Cindy Schultz’s when I was in the sixth grade. I’d had a crush on Cindy Schultz, partly because I sat behind her, and I’d memorized the color of her hair and the freckles on her neck. I couldn’t help but stare stupidly at this new woman for an awkwardly long time. Just studying her, enraptured by her looks. Her pose. The power radiating off her in waves, drawing me in.

  “Yeah,” I said finally. “She’s a goddess. Am I right? Total goddess.”

  Loxo put her face in her hands. “Oh, Jacob. Smooth as always.”

  “That’s me,” I said, grinning.

  Myrina sighed.

  “I’m Jacob Merely, god of war.” I went forward and reached out a hand.

  The beautiful woman took it. Her skin was soft, though her hand was surprisingly firm—which is saying something because I was one strong son of a bitch. Her smell was sweet—equal parts lilac and lavender—and the best thing I’d ever smelled. My nose felt honored by it.

  I had to swallow. The godstone wanted her—wanted her, like, yesterday.

  Down, boy, I thought.

  “I know who you are,” the goddess said. Her voice was musical, and I could almost hear it in my bed, in the morning, after a long night of passionate sex. She’d smile at me and say good morning in that same voice. “The trouble is, I do not know who I am.”

  Whoa. That put a fly in the ointment.

  Then things got chaotic.

  One of the sea centaurs, fleeing for its life, galloped by, then abruptly veered off course, charging toward us. He had a lobster head, and instead of hands, he sported a pair of flaming red pinchers big enough to lop an arm off without missing a beat. It was batter’s up for me, and I hit a home run. I took the War Blade and knocked his head, antennas and all, over our western ramparts.

  “I will help with our final enemies,” Myrina said.

  “You better,” I shot back. “I waited far too long for back up.”

  The blond Battle Warden blushed and slipped away without a word.

  Absently, I touched the godstone in my chest.

  Doris and Ianthe sprinted up to me before I could turn my attention back to the mysterious goddess standing before me. Both were scratched to shit—Doris had a deep gash running down one cheek—but I solved that with a quick Healing Touch miracle. They fell into me. All thoughts of Myrina went out the window.

  Before I knew it, I was kissing one, then the other.

  “We held the wall!” Doris squealed. She gave me another big smackeroo, tongue and everything.

  “And we must have leveled!” Iantha screamed in joy. She shoved her sister aside, grabbed me—none too gently, I might add—and squeezed me until I thought I might pop. My bones creaked. The kiss she laid on me was hot enough to start a forest fire. It all happened so fast, I couldn’t stop them.

  And I was doing it right in front of this strange new goddess.

  “Is that right? Leveling?” Iantha asked, after thoroughly checking my tonsils with her tongue. “We’ve heard the others say it, but we are not sure what it means. All we know is that after a large battle, we are supposed to go and speak with Phoebe. There might be an orb involved, yes?”

  That made me grin. “Yeah, it’s the gaming system. You’ll be able to enhance yourselves—get stronger, better, tougher, even get special abilities. That kind of stuff.”

  Doris’ mouth dropped open. “And we get to choose?”

  “Yeah, you get to choose.” And then Doris was kissing me again, grabbing my butt underneath my linen armor.

  The kiss went on. And on.

  Loxo cleared her throat. “Yes, this is the war god,” she confided to our new guest. “He is congratulating his soldiers for their victory. He congratulated me earlier today. Twice.” My Huntress laughed at that one.

  “Are you sure he’s not the god of love?” the mysterious new woman asked, quirking an eyebrow.

  Maybe that was who this stranger was: Aphrodite, the goddess of love. That made some sense, but wouldn’t she have shown up naked, walking out of the sea-foam froth like when she was born? Wasn’t there a big clamshell involved? Or was that just a Botticelli painting? I’d dated an art history major for a minute back in college.

  I gently pushed Doris back. “You and Ianthe better get back up to Phoebe. You’ll want to level up quick. We have another eight hours before the next attack, and I want you enhanced.”

  “I just want you,” Iantha said, red stealing into her cheeks, her eyes boring into me. Hungry. Finally, she pulled away, gave me a wink, and then took off with Doris, both of them giggling like schoolgirls instead of vicious, battle-hardened Amazons.

  The godstone approved of it all. And my own ideas about normal American morality were crumbling. If all the Amazons wanted me, why wasn’t I helping them with that desire? It seemed silly not to. Then again, I couldn’t lose my focus like I just had in front of the mystery goddess. This newcomer could be a spy, or a mole sent by Hades. Hell, with the right magic, she might be Hades.

  Ha, I’d sworn to fuck up Hades once I met him. Now, that might mean something different.

  Great, now the godstone was making bad jokes.

  “Look, ma’am,” I said to the goddess, remembering my manners. “We need to keep you under guard. We don’t know who you are, and we can’t take any chances. Hold on one moment.”

  Myrina trotted back to us. She gave me a face of stone. “We have secured the city. All of our enemies are dead, including the ones that attacked the east while you, Doris, and Ianthe alone held the western wall.”

  “That’s why you were late,” I muttered. Yet I didn’t feel bad about how harsh I’d been. I should’ve felt like an ass, dressing Myrina down like I had when they’d been protecting the city from another attack. However, I didn’t. I felt justified. She was my Amazon, and I could treat her however I wanted.

  That idea was troubling. I grabbed hold of my senses. Or tried to.

  “Myrina,” I said evenly, “we’ll talk later. For now, I need you to guard our prisoner.”

  “I think you mean our guest.” Loxo furrowed her brow.

  Great, now I was pissing off everyone. Rage filled me, and the gemstone flashed in my chest.

  The gorgeous woman gasped. “I have one of those. In my chest. See?” She dropped her gown to reveal perfect breasts, nipples pointing skyward. They were scoops of goddess ice cream in a vanilla sauce. And of course, my eyes dropped down her flat belly to the tuft of gold between her legs. That too went from a blond triangle to red to black.

  She seemed to be ever-changing. Was that a clue?

  I didn’t know. But buried in her chest was a pink gemstone, glittering like mad.

  “So she is a goddess,” Myrina said. “But which one?”

  At that moment, I didn’t care. I wanted her, right then, on the beach. Instead, I took hold of myself and stalked off, sheathing the War Blade as I went. I needed a minute. Then I’d
go back to confront the new goddess in town. I had an idea of how we might be able to figure out her true nature, but before I could pursue that, I needed to get myself under control. Otherwise I’d end up doing something stupid, and when gods and goddesses were involved, doing something stupid was a good way to get dead.

  Around me, Amazons were piling up monster corpses, while Calla, my Flame-Witch, cremated them. Soon, we had huge stacks of bodies burning to ashes from my Elementalists’ magical fire.

  I inhaled, loving the smell. I’d killed most of them, including the piles of kraken meat crisping under the flame. It was just as it should be. This is what the gods wanted, after all. Death. Sacrifices. Burnt offerings.

  I squeezed my eyes shut. Then I exhaled. “Okay, sure, yes, I’m the war god. But fuck you, Ares. I’m not going to turn into you. I’m going to apologize to Myrina for being a dick.”

  I then opened the messaging system. I went through the options, and that was when I saw what I could do. I thought it was either a full-on “Reply All” to every single one of my Amazons or individual messages that may or may not be private. However, there was a group function that ensured privacy. I could put my Amazons into individual groups as well as an “All” group. If I left Antiope out, there was no way she could hear our messages.

  I quickly made an “All Amazon Group,” a “Generals” group for Myrina, Phoebe, and Asteria, and then a single group for each of my generals.

  I broadcasted to all my Amazons. Greetings, my warriors. I have found a way for us to communicate so that the Dark Amazon can’t hear us. Create a secret group and then add me and all your sisters to it. If you have questions, just touch base with General Phoebe—she’ll get you set up. And if you’ve levelled up, make sure to stop by the forge to distribute your stat points and choose your abilities using the gaming orb.

  I paused. That was all I needed to do. My Amazons didn’t need words of encouragement or pats on the butt. They followed my every order. They lived to serve me, and I didn’t need to thank my slaves.

  I blinked. Dammit, that wasn’t me. I sent another message. Thank you all for holding the walls, both the eastern side and the western. Special thanks to Doris and Ianthe, who should be honored for their exceptional bravery and steadfastness. Now, we must prepare for the next attack. Please find Otrere, or one of our other Water-Witches. They can use the Healing Touch miracle to help you. I will not be available. We have a prisoner. I mean, a guest.

  I then clicked off and reached out to Phoebe alone. Hey, Phoebs, I need you to get down here. You still have the Mirror of True Reflection, right?

  Yeah, boss, Phoebe sent back. Nice work hacking the messaging system. Though—dude, duder, Deuteronomy of Gath—you should’ve thought that up sooner. I mean, a secret group? Duh!

  I grinned. Despite everything going on, talking with Phoebe always put me in a good mood and seemed to ground me from the influence of the godstone. I’ll send Asteria. See you in a minute.

  That done, I switched to my “Generals” group. Asteria, can you go pick up Phoebe? Then meet me down on the beach.

  Yes, man-thing, land-walker, but the flesh is warming my belly and the blood is quenching my thirst. I have eaten a dozen livers and I plan to eat a dozen more. The stink of it, the taste of it, the texture delights me. Centaur livers are delicious.

  That was Asteria as an eagle. Kinda made me want to try a centaur liver.

  I walked back to where Loxo and Myrina stood with our prisoner/guest.

  Myrina couldn’t meet my gaze.

  Oh, well. All thoughts of apologizing went out the window.

  I turned to the goddess. “You said you know me. How is that?”

  “You are Ares, the god of war,” she said innocently. “Your sigil is what keeps Hades and his armies from destroying the world. That is one of the only things I remember since I crossed the River Lethe.”

  The River Lethe. That rang a bell in my head, though I couldn’t quite place it. Still, it seemed important somehow, even if I wasn’t sure why.

  “Not Ares,” I said. “I’m Jacob Merely, but I am the god of war. The new and improved, 2.0 version.”

  Asteria came floating down on her blue wings with Phoebe on her back. She landed, changed into a human woman, and caught Phoebe deftly. She then helped my Rune-Caster limp over.

  After a brief round of introductions, I plucked the mirror out of Phoebe’s hand—the same mirror we’d used to verify that Sabra hadn’t turned Dark Amazon on us after her resurrection. I turned the mirror so I could see myself, and her.

  Immediately, my reflection wavered. My face changed, shifted, giving way to a reflection of Ares, or at least how he’d looked before he’d been mortally wounded. It stayed that way for a long beat, then finally reverted back to my features. Still, seeing that change was troubling. Definitely a reminder that I was fighting to keep my mind and my identity uncorrupted by Ares’ influence.

  I cleared my throat and shifted the mirror, so it now reflected the gorgeous goddess, skyclad on the beach. Immediately, she transformed into a hag with wispy hair clinging to her mottled scalp. Her eyes were colorless gray bits of flesh nestled deeply in sunken sockets. Her mouth gaped, showing no teeth at all. Suddenly, the beach was gone, and this hag in front of me was on a flat plain of rock, just like in my dream from earlier. That was the Underworld, I was sure of it. The realm of Hades.

  I whirled with the War Blade.

  “I refuse to let you trick us, hellspawn,” I roared, ready to carve that gem right out of her chest.

  Memory of Murder

  I DROPPED THE Mirror of True Reflection into the sand. Before I could drive the War Blade into the chest of the mysterious goddess, she fell to her knees, right above the mirror. She gazed into the glass as I stood over her. I faltered, staying my hand for the moment ... The reflection was changing again. We both watched as the image went from hag to beauty queen—a luxurious mane of blond hair sprouting from her malformed skull, falling past her shoulders in waves and natural curves. Her sickly skin gave way to healthy flesh, while her gray eyes became startlingly green, the color of April grass.

  What in the fuck is this? I wondered.

  I watched, completely unsure of myself now. The woman’s appearance reverted again, cycling between hag and beauty queen, hag and beauty queen, every few seconds.

  My Amazons had their weapons out, ready to take my lead. If I went after the goddess, they’d back me up ... but all of a sudden, I wasn’t ready to make my move. There was something going on here that I didn’t fully understand, and it would be dumb to kill this woman outright before I knew more. I studied her as she, in turn, studied the mirror. Honestly, she seemed just as disgusted and shocked by the ongoing transformations as I was, which supported her claim that she really didn’t remember who she was.

  “Hold,” I barked to my Amazons, trying to process what I was seeing. It seemed her nature was to be ever-changing; clearly, she had ties to the Underworld, but if I had to guess, I’d say at least some part of her was inherently good.

  Still bent over, she asked in a small voice, “Are you going to kill me?”

  Is she a spawn of hell? Phoebe sent me. She is a hottie, after all.

  I sheathed the War Blade, the rasp of leather and steel carrying in the air. “We don’t know who you are, and with the world on the line, we can’t ignore any possible threat. You said you crossed the River Lethe?”

  “Yes,” the goddess sat back on her heels. She gazed up at us. “I’m very hungry, thirsty, and frightened. I can’t recall why, but I knew I needed to find you. To tell you things, secret things. And yet now?” She pursed her lips and shook her head. “Now I can’t remember.”

  Phoebe’s voice popped into my mind. Dude, the River Lethe kills memories dead. That’s why she’s Miss Amnesia. I’d have to do some research, since I don’t know the long-term effects of magical rivers in the Underworld. However, there’s a good chance her memory will return if we give it enough time.

 
; “How did you get into our city unseen?” Myrina asked, her words sharper than the tip of her spear. She was clearly displeased that the mysterious goddess had made her look bad.

  “I used green magic to scale your walls,” she replied. “But to get near enough to do that? I ... I came through a secret passageway under the jungles. Through many worlds ... the Submerged Labyrinth. The Ghosts of Minos Omega. The Olympian Library. The way was treacherous”—she shuddered, squeezing her arms tightly across her chest—“and it took me days on end, but I managed to find passage through the mazes without disturbing ... them.” She whispered that last word.

  “Them who?” I asked, eyes narrowed.

  The goddess lowered her face and wept.

  Normally, I would feel awkward around her tears, but now they just pissed me off. I didn’t have time for a mystery on our doorstep when I had battlements to fix, Amazons to forge, and the clock ticking down until our next attack.

  “Take her up to the palace,” I said after a time, mind working. “Give her something to eat and drink. But keep her guarded. I want a full contingent of Wardens on her at all times. I’ll talk with her once I’ve secured the city and handled business at the forge.”

  Without another look at the weeping woman, I turned and walked away, reaching into a pouch at my side for more Thymos Crystals—making sure I had enough for the work ahead of me. I’d fix the western gate and check on the eastern wall. Then I’d swing back around to Phoebe’s forge, and we’d continue to pound out Amazons.

  I jogged up the steps and worked my way across the city to the eastern wall. The north and south gate had been hit by more werewolves, but these hadn’t had the impenetrable mystical armor. My Amazons had also faced off against the ogreish meatheads with Gatling guns on their shoulders, operated by gimpy little imps. Battle Wardens were already stacking the bodies so that my Fire-Witches could burn them.