by James Hunter
My army of Amazons followed me into the realm of the dead.
Bonehead
AT FIRST, I COULDN’T see a thing. It was darkness like nothing I’d never known before—hell, I didn’t even think darkness could be that complete. I’d visited a cave with my Cub Scout troop when I was in elementary school. This was a little like that—if that cave were inside an even darker cave, which also happened to be in the heart of a black hole. There was also this terrible odor, both sickly sour and sweet, which somehow made it even harder to see. That had to be death itself: pure, simple, and awful.
And stink that affected your vision? Welcome to the Underworld. Couldn’t really explain that one, but in Hell, physics don’t have to make sense, I guess.
With a whisper of will, I ignited the circlet on my skull and stepped off the chariot. Despite the blazing power of the crown, only a hundred feet around me was illuminated. The dark felt almost alive. It also felt hungry, eager to eat up as much light as I could summon. Before me was a field of limp, lifeless gray grass, which looked as if all the color had been sucked away. A closer look. Yep ... That wasn’t grass, but hair. Human hair, rising out of squishy ground. Well, then.
My stomach buckled, and I swallowed hard several times. I might never eat anything again.
I shook away my nausea and focused on the edge of the black, a hundred feet out. Something was heading toward me, something in the darkness, bleeding out rainbow light. Phoebe tromped up next to me in her steampunk mech, along with Asteria—still in the shape of a bear—Loxo, and Sophia.
Well, this place is horrible, Phoebe sent.
Asteria transformed, taking human form. She stood, naked, with her arms crossed, a pained look playing across her delicate features.
Feeling better about being human? I asked.
She simply scowled at me.
Phoebe had the answer. Humans can’t smell for shit. That’s why she’s back to being Miss Naked Blue America.
Honestly, I felt terrible about Asteria.
I’d been so concerned with Myrina and ending this war with Hades that I hadn’t given her the time she deserved. But the truth was, even if I had all the time in the world, I had no clue how to help the shifter. She’d always been a strange duck that mystified me, and this latest mood shift only increased her strangeness. As an animal, she experienced so many more emotions than I did ... Where would I even start with her? I didn’t know, and sadly now just wasn’t the time for introspection. We were on the clock and had things to kill.
Though, if the war itself was the issue for Asteria, then maybe killing Hades would set everything right. No way to know for sure, but I could hope.
The Harvesters rumbled out of the portal behind me, lanterns glowing on their ends, casting uneven light that did next to nothing to beat back the darkness. Calla provided light for a bunch of Amazons around her, including Euryleia, whose bear whined and grumbled, clearly unhappy about being here. The animals hated this place, especially our bulls and horses, who nosed at the hair growing out of the ground and then shrank back with wide eyes.
I climbed back into the Helios Chariot as the rainbow light approached.
I wasn’t surprised when Persephone strode into the open, a tall, shapely blonde with a cute button nose. She raised both arms above her head and a huge rainbow erupted from her palms, curving over our party. In an instant, the landscape came into focus. There wasn’t just hair growing from the ground, but trees made of arms wrapped together, hands grasping each other. There were also leg bushes crafted from bone and skin, toes splayed and calf muscles flexing.
A row of heads, jutting from wrist-thick flower stalks, babbled at us, saying nothing—just an unceasing flow of guttural syllables not meant for any human tongue. Their eyes were open but unseeing. God, this place was the worst.
I almost wished Persephone hadn’t used her rainbow to illuminate the horrorscape around us. Then again, stumbling into human head flowers in the dark wouldn’t have been my idea of fun.
As the goddess of spring walked toward us, the swaying sea of hair turned into true grass—green, slender, and so vibrant it almost hurt to look at. The heads became roses, the leg bushes were replaced by green-leafed mulberry plants, the trees transformed into healthy things with bark and leaves, the branches loaded down with greenery and fruit—lush apples here, succulent pears there. One tree hung fat with red pomegranates, which served as a stern reminder that the food here, no matter how delicious looking, was not to be trusted.
“Greetings, War God.” Flowers sprouted from Persephone’s footprints. She climbed into the chariot and kissed my cheek. She smelled like a fresh morning, birdsong, and churned earth. “I have not found Myrina, but I did speak to Charon. Your Battle Wardens made their way through this place, the Vale of Tears, and on to the five rivers of the Underworld. Charon has told them where to hide, but Hades has the Erinyes searching for them. And before too long he will likely notice our presence and will have them searching for us as well.”
“Erinyes?” I frowned. “What are those?”
“You might know them as the Furies,” Persephone replied. “You slew Praxidike, but there are three sisters left: Alecto, Megaera, and Tisiphone. They punish various kinds of criminals, but Hades has enlisted them to be his bounty hunters. They are, even now, searching for your warriors, as well as the souls of Earl Perkins and Antiope.”
Phoebe was there with a quip. Earl Perkins? Sounds like a country music star.
It did, but I wasn’t in the mood for jokes. “Does Hades know the sigil has been broken?”
“I do not know his mind, but I believe it to be so,” Persephone answered. “Even now he gathers his forces in his palace near the Elysian Fields. But, he must cross the Plain of Judgement and the Asphodel Fields to breach the portal. We mustn’t tarry too long here. If he crosses the five rivers and reaches the Vale of Tears, he might be able to elude us, escape through the rift, and find the Stair. Then he can go anywhere. Invade any world. Every soul he kills, he will enlist into his army of the dead.”
Holy Walking Dead, Batman, Phoebe sent.
You can’t be enjoying this, I messaged back.
Why not? We’re going on a suicide mission to rescue Myrina, who is totally going to kick your ass for risking all of reality to save her. This is fucking epic, my dude! She triggered the buzz saw on her arm for emphasis, the weapon roaring, sparks flashing.
While Phoebe was loving the drama and my future ass-kicking, Asteria looked as if someone had pissed in her Fruit Loops. Then there was Loxo, who was like a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs—no doubt reliving the trauma of her time here. Even Sophia was pale, and nothing buttered her muffin.
“Hey, P, can you give us a quick geography lesson?” I asked.
The spring goddess brightened. “OMZ, I love it every time you call me P. I’ve never had a pet name, you know. It’s such a treat.” She giggled and kissed me again, this time on the lips. It was a kiss that lingered, a kiss that tasted of ripe strawberries and dark chocolate. For a second, I forgot about the terrible Vale of Tears. Which, considering just how awful the Vale of Tears was, oughta tell you exactly how good that kiss was.
She pulled back, giggled again, and batted her overlong lashes at me. “Now, where were we?”
“Geography,” Loxo offered flatly, clearly unamused by the distraction. Loxo wasn’t the jealous type—just the opposite, in fact—but no one wanted to be in this place a second longer than necessary.
“Ah, yes,” Persephone replied with a bob of her head. “Geography. Beyond the Vale of Tears lie the five rivers. We must cross each of them to find your warriors. But be forewarned, they get progressively more treacherous, until we reach the Phlegethon. The Phlegethon is a river of flame, which rings Tartarus, where the Titans dwell. We would do well to avoid Tartarus, I should think.”
“Steer clear of Tartarus, check,” I said, mind flashing back to my one and only encounter with a Titan while in the lost land of Nyx
. I’d gone head to head against Entomo, the centipede-hydra, and the battle had very nearly cost me everything. I’d let the bastard swallow me whole, then pureed his vital organs with the War Blade. And even after all that, the son of a bitch still managed to get away alive. Titans were some tough sons of bitches and if I could avoid them, I would. I already had more than enough on my plate with Hades and his heavy hitters.
“The Palace of Hades lies to the north, Tartarus is to the northwest,” Persephone continued. “The Elysian Fields are to the northeast. Directly south of the palace is the Plain of Judgement. Between the River Phlegethon and the Plain of Judgement lie the Asphodel Fields. That is where we should find Myrina and the others.”
“So we have to watch out for the Erinyes, yes?” I asked.
“Yes,” Persephone said, “and there are any number of entities loyal to Hades here. Our chances are slim. Yet, I admire your hope and optimism.” She smirked and lightly punched me in the shoulder. “It’s terribly misplaced, but such is life. And if you are going to die horribly, at least you can have a good attitude about it.”
“Yeah, at least I have that going for me,” I said, forcing a little cheer into my voice. Then I got down to business, facing my ’Zons, who were spread out behind me in a loose semicircle. “Those of us who can fly will forge ahead to the River Acheron. Persephone can drive the Helios Chariot, I have my winged sandals, and we have our Beastiamancers. Sophia, can you carry Loxo?”
The Teleporter agreed immediately.
Asteria can carry my mech, Phoebe messaged us all. Asteria, you okay with that?
The Beastiamancer shrugged, but finally dipped her head in acknowledgment. Her listlessness hurt. She’d always been the happiest Amazon, quick to laugh, quick to love.
I had to shake off my worry. “The rest of the army will go forward as quickly as they can. Persephone’s rainbow is big enough to stretch out behind her, giving everyone light.”
Persephone nodded. “Yes, and no one will suspect anything. I have my grove near the sea over there.” She motioned to what might be the west. “I often walk there, alone, pining for my lost mother.”
Great. We had a cover story. Time to head north.
Asteria transformed into a giant eagle. She wheeled overhead, held up on massive azure wings, then dove, grabbing Phoebe’s mech in talon-studded feet bigger than my head. Phoebe’s mech must’ve weighed half a ton, easy, yet Asteria had no problem bearing the load. The pair of them joined me in the sky, along with Toxaris, the other Pegasus riders, and Persephone driving the Helios Chariot. Loxo and Sophia teleported along after us, phasing in and out of existence with inky puffs of purple smoke.
It was easy to follow Persephone’s path. A wide swath of colorful springtime flowers in a thousand hues and a strip of emerald grass led to a black river cutting across the desolate and disgusting landscape. A dock fashioned from black rock jutted out into the middle of the water.
I messaged my people to keep their distance as I skated ahead, idly wondering if we could just fly over the various rivers—that would certainly make traversing the hellish landscape a lot easier. I was outside of the arcing rainbow that gave us light, but thanks to the circlet I could still see. But the minute I tried to sail over the wide, black river, the water gushed upward, forming a wall of sludgy muck dotted with human skulls, which glowed fallout green. Those skulls clacked against each other in the stygian liquid.
I guess that was a hard no on flying over the rivers.
After a long beat, the neon-green skulls scattered, and a robed figure rose up through the water. He was unnaturally tall—eight feet, at least—and as gaunt as a broomstick with spidery, overlong limbs. The figure wore a burlap cloak, moldering on the edges, and his robes were of a similar rough-spun cloth, which somehow managed to showcase every bone in his sunken torso. Rail-thin fingers clutched a large wooden oar the color of a fresh nosebleed. And when the figure lifted its face to me, I found myself staring into another skull, his eyes toxic green, which reminded me of Earl’s necrotic power.
I didn’t see his boat, but of course, this had to be Charon.
A hushed whisper filled the air. “You cannot fly through here, War God. You must cross as is the custom of this land.” His voice was dusty and ancient, like a stiff breeze blowing through the pages of some old book. “But to do so, you must be dead. Only the dead can cross into the lands beyond. Are you willing to die? If so, simply touch the waters of the River Acheron, or any of the five rivers, and you will shed your mortal form, instead clothed in the garb of immortal deceased.”
I glanced back over one shoulder and down onto the bank. My contingent of Amazons had gathered in front of the river where the water met the land. Looking up, I was greeted with still more water stretching into infinity.
“Yeah, that’s gonna have to be a hard pass from me,” I replied, rubbing my chin, trying to figure out how to get around the waters. “Pretty much my only real goal for the day is to avoid dying.” I dropped, touching down lightly on the shore not far from the river’s edge. Charon followed. The indomitable wall of water dropped with me, gently filling the riverbanks once more. The land next to the black river looked like congealed blood forming a scab. Gross. A few strands of the gray hair flowed into the water like weeds. Double gross.
“So this isn’t the River Styx?” I asked. “I’m kind of disappointed.”
Charon floated a few feet above the water. He didn’t answer.
Persephone sighed. “Come on, Charon. Go get your boat. You know you’re going to break the rules this time.”
“I cannot,” the boatman whispered, shaking his head ever so slightly. “Hades had me swear on the River Styx—which is the second river you must cross. Sadly, I am bound by my oath. I cannot help you, Spring Goddess, nor can I help you, War God, however much I might want to. Though, in truth, I long to serve my real master.”
“And who might that be?” I prodded, hoping to find something I could work with.
The hushed voice of the boatman answered, “Thanatos. The All-Dead. He knows his role in the universe. He understands his sacred duty. Hades is but a babe compared to the ancient Thanatos. Hades has forgotten himself, but soon, he will be gone, either to conquer the universe or dead and committed into the embrace of Thanatos, the true master of mortality.”
Well, this seemed like promising news. The enemy of the enemy is my friend and all that. “So, what I’m hearing is that Hades and Thanatos aren’t exactly on friendly terms. Any idea where I could find Thanatos? Seems like we might have some things in common.”
“He is ever present,” Charon said, tone bordering on reverence. “He is everywhere because death is everywhere. But he will not step in until Hades is gone. Thanatos is primary. Thanatos is beyond. Thanatos is in all things. He will not dirty his hands with the lowly conflicts of our kind.”
I sighed. “So, super powerful but definitely not interested in helping us out,” I said. “Just wants to reap the benefits of me taking Hades out. Got it.”
Sounds like a dirty freeloader to me, Phoebe sent.
I snorted. She had a point, but I kept that thought to myself. Charon probably wouldn’t take an observation like that too kindly. “Okay, so that’s a big fat no on Thanatos. And you don’t seem interested in helping us either. But”—I raised my hands—“and just hear me out here, Thanatos wouldn’t mind if Hades were gone. But I can’t kill him unless I can get to him, and I can’t do that unless you help us cross the rivers. Seems like it might be in your own best interest to at least point us in the right direction.”
The skeletal boatman canted his head, seeming to consider my words.
“OMZ, Charon, don’t be a bonehead,” the spring goddess was now a very slim, very short blonde with nice pink lips. “Just help us. It’s not like Hades is going to be around to fire you. We’re on our way to kill him.”
After a long moment, Charon finally shook his head. “Although your success, War God, would be a boon to me and my master
, it is not fated to be. I have sworn my oath, and in both life and death, a creature only has their word. I will abide by mine, unless, of course, you should perish. If your physical body fails, your spirit will find itself in my care.
“Then, and only then, will I shepherd it across the rivers and to the Plain of Judgement where your eternal fate will be handed down. Heroes will be sent to the Elysian Fields. The mediocre will find themselves in the Asphodel Fields. The villainous will be banished to Tartarus, where they will burn with the Titans for an eternity. This is the land of the dead for all time and space. There is no escape.”
Persephone grumbled, “I did not think this would be an issue. Charon has let other living men across the river. Maybe it is because we are women. Or in your case a god, Jacob.”
Totally sexist. And godist. Phoebe offered, glowering at the boatman.
“The other mortals were heroes in their stories,” the boatman whispered, “and I was bound by their destiny—men and women alike. The god of war wasn’t fated to travel into the realm of his foe. Hence, I am not bound to help him.”
That put a crazy-bad feeling in my belly. I wasn’t fated to cross into the Underworld, which probably meant I wasn’t fated to win. It sucks when you don’t have destiny on your side.
Told you so, Phoebe sent. If you hadn’t destroyed the sigil, we could’ve turned around and gone home. But nope, not you. And now, we can’t.
Yeppers, Phoebe, I totally burned that bridge. Remember, go big or go home—and we don’t ever plan to go home. Now, let’s focus. I need your head in the game if we’re gonna win this thing.
My mind raced. We could face Hades when he marched toward the portal, but that meant abandoning Myrina, Doris, and Ianthe, which was, like, ninety percent of the reason we’d come in the first place. And from what Persephone said, the Vale of Tears was a vast place. Hades might get around us. Unless we set up our troops directly in front of the portal. Then again, there might be other cracks and crevices open to him. That was the problem with Lycastia: it was an island with a bazillion caves, caverns, and secret underground chambers.
