Solstice

by P. J. Hoover

  I stand up and try to force away the yearning which is pulsing so hard through my body it hurts. His back is to me, and I’m not sure if I should go over next to him or keep the distance between us. “Is it something I did?”

  Shayne whips around, and his eyes are flashing. The red beats and throbs inside, and the brown is so dark it looks like ink. His teeth are clenched, and for a second, it seems he wants to kill me.

  “Gods no! You could never do anything wrong.”

  I’m relieved and baffled all at the same time. I didn’t do anything, but he also doesn’t want to be with me. “Then why did you stop?”

  Shayne closes his eyes, and tries to get his anger under control. His hands are balled in fists, but when he reopens his eyes, he relaxes his hands, and the red flashes settle down. “Because it would only confuse you more.”

  It’s like his answer only throws more uncertainty my way. “I’m not confused about anything.” Except every single event in the last week.

  Shayne shakes his head and whistles, and soon Cerberus comes bounding out of the dark tunnel ahead. He runs to Shayne and stops at his feet. “The time isn’t right.”

  The time seems right to me. But it stings, and even though he denies it, I’m sure it’s something I’ve done.

  Shayne smiles and reaches down to scratch Cerberus’s left head. Its ears go back, and its eyes close as Cerberus leans forward. “I have to be patient; but it’s just so hard.” Our eyes hold each other until finally he breaks the contact. “I do think you’re right about one thing.”

  Finally. “What?”

  “It’s time for you to go. At least for today.”

  I nod, though at this point, I don’t really want to leave—ever. But Chloe’s waiting for me back at the creek. “Can I come back sometime?”

  “Piper, you can come back any time you want.”

  “How? Do you have a FON?” I have a hard time imagining that the city issued Shayne his own Functional Operating Node.

  Shayne laughs and walks toward me, taking my hand. We start walking back down a tunnel, turning a few times, until we come out of the rock wall, and I see the banks of the River Acheron ahead of us. A boat approaches—Charon, coming to get us.

  “No, no FON. But just call me. I’ll be around.” He gives my hand a quick squeeze.

  I find the thought that Shayne will be around both comforting and alarming. He can’t possibly be around every second of every day.

  “Always?”

  “No, not always,” he says. “But enough.”

  I relax. The last thing I want is to move from an overprotective mom to an overprotective boyfriend. And I don’t know if this thought means that Shayne is my boyfriend.

  Our trip back with Charon is quiet. I sit in the front wrapped in Shayne’s strong arms while Charon guides us across the bubbling river of sorrow. I hear the voices as we move through the water, see the monsters feasting on sadness, but I ignore them, instead thinking only of Chloe waiting for me and Shayne’s burning warmth next to me and his odd but intense burst of anger back on the shore.

  Charon smiles when I get off the boat, and for a moment, I want to reach out and give him a hug. He holds his feet firmly in one place, though, and since I don’t see an opening, I brush the weird urge away. I chalk it up to the fact that I’ve just been in Hell for the day and I think I’m in love with Shayne, who is actually Hades, Lord of the Underworld. Not the most normal day, though certainly it’s been the most memorable.

  Shayne walks me away from the shore, and I recognize the place where we first arrived.

  “Did you decide?” he asks.

  Paradise will be waiting for Chloe later. Her time isn’t now. There has to be a reason Tanni warned me about it. “I want Chloe to live.” And with those words, I am officially the most selfish person in the world.

  Shayne nods. “And I stand by my word. It’s your choice.”

  I move to hug him, but he puts up his hand. “Are you sure?”

  “Of course,” I say. Selfish or not, it is my decision.

  “Okay, then she lives.”

  The words sound almost like a death sentence.

  “Are you ready?” he asks.

  I look up, but all I see is packed dirt and rock hovering above us. “How do we get through?”

  “Just you this time.”

  I look away from the hard ceiling, back to his face. “You aren’t coming with me?” And all of a sudden, I don’t want to leave, which is funny considering I was just worried about him being overprotective.

  “Chloe needs you. Not me,” he says.

  “You’ll be at school?”

  Shayne smiles, and it lights the dark cavern. At least for me. “School. The only good part of it is seeing you.”

  “You haven’t been there all year, have you?” Maybe it’s obvious by now, but I want the confirmation that I’m not crazy.

  Shayne shakes his head. “Nope. Only a week. But you’re the only one who knows that. I had to enroll so I could keep an eye on Reese.”

  Reese. I’d almost forgotten about him. My face burns when I think about kissing him. Was it just last night? It feels like a lifetime ago.

  Shayne takes my chin in his hand. “Just promise me you’ll be careful. Reese isn’t what he seems.”

  It takes me a second, but then it comes together in my mind. “He’s Ares.”

  Shayne nods. “The god of war. And apparently a bigger threat than I’ve estimated.” His eyes darken a final time, and the red sparks flash. “Just stay away from him.”

  I nod even though part of me doesn’t want anyone—not even Shayne—telling me what to do. As long as I don’t see Reese, I should have no problem staying away from him.

  Shayne puts his fingers to my lips. “And promise me you’ll always trust me.”

  It’s a strange request. And my mind flashes to our conversation with Rhadam. The secrets I know Shayne’s keeping. “Of course.”

  Shayne smiles. “Thank you.” He moves away from me and leaves me standing there alone.

  I look back up at the packed earth above us. I know I need to go, yet I want to turn back and run to Hell. To Shayne. But Chloe needs me. And my mom needs me, stifling though she is. So I clear my mind, thinking only of my return, and soon I’m amid the swirling liquid silver, floating in it and breathing it in. I feel myself drifting back—back to the world above. I’m overwhelmed with the urge to fight against the drift, to kick my way back to Shayne and the Underworld. But I know life is waiting for me back on Earth. And so I continue on, losing myself in the cool fluid until I’m again on hard-packed ground.

  Chapter 19

  Shock

  The world comes alive like a nightmare. I’m back in the Greenbelt; there’s a stillness, and the sky is dead gray. And then there’s some kind of sonic boom, and the air around me starts to hum and vibrate. Just before I left, the disperser missile launched even though the council knew it was going to destroy the atmosphere. And now it’s like there’s some rebound effect going on. Some kind of switch has been flipped. A blast of cold wind slams into me, and goose bumps explode on my bare arms.

  Chloe’s where I left her. Lying on the rock-covered ground. Still unconscious. I blink my eyes a few times, and the smell of the earth around me registers. What just happened?

  Hell? I’ve been to Hell?

  I look around, but there’s no sign of the winged man who’d come for Chloe. His putrid odor is gone. He is gone. And so is Shayne.

  Shayne is the Lord of the Underworld.

  Chloe breathes normally, but she’s pale. I head to the creek and grab a handful of water, holding it in my cupped hands. When I get back to her, I drop it on her face, rubbing it into her cold, white cheeks. She stirs, but doesn’t wake, so I get some more and do it again. It’s not until the third time that her eyes finally flutter open. Overhead, rain begins to fall. But it’s hard, like tiny pellets being flung from the sky.

  “Piper?”

  She looks right at
me, though her eyes don’t see me. But she’s alive.

  I take her hand. “Hi, Chloe.” I wipe the rain from her forehead and help her sit up.

  She turns her head and looks toward the creek. “What happened? What am I doing here?”

  “I think you collapsed from the heat.”

  She shudders as another gust of cold wind hits. “It’s so cold.”

  I nod, though I want to forget about the weather. I want to forget about this whole global warming disaster we live in. All I really want to do is hug Chloe. To never let her go again. But she’s still so dazed, and I don’t want to startle her. “They launched another missile.”

  I don’t think she’s even close to feeling the panic that’s starting to creep through me. Something is seriously messed up with the weather. The temperature has never dropped this quickly since I’ve been alive. But it’s like Chloe doesn’t even hear me. She shivers and wraps her arms around herself, and I notice her tattoo. Fading—like mine had done in Hell. I touch it, and the ebony ink revives under my touch until it’s as dark as the day she got it. Just like mine did when Shayne touched it. I take this as a good sign.

  Chloe pulls her arms closer, and her teeth begin to chatter. I realize she’s in shock.

  “We need to get you home.” And like the fates are against us, the sky picks that moment to open up and begin dumping on us. Something hard hits my head and then bounces to the ground in front of me. I pick up a thick ball of ice. Hail—that’s what we learned it was called. But it hasn’t hailed since the Global Heating Crisis started.

  I grab Chloe, and we make a run for the shuttle stop. She’s like a rag doll but lets me lead her. We dash under the UV covering at the shuttle stop, but it’s not UV I’m worried about right now. The hail is coming down like stones. The thermometer at the shuttle stop has dipped to fifty-four. I think there has to be a mistake. It drops as I watch to fifty-three then fifty-one. But fifty never comes because a giant piece of hail smacks into the red LEDs so hard, both Chloe and I jump. I think she’s shivering, but then I realize I am too. The world is crashing in on us.

  It takes forever for a shuttle to come. When it does, the driver has his hands gripped on the steering wheel because the road is solid ice. We’re the only ones on the shuttle, and he instructs us to sit in the middle and not say a word. Chloe’s not talking because I think she must still be in shock. I’m about to ask him if we can stop at the hospital because she’s still so pale, but the driver looks like he’s seen death himself, so I keep quiet. Chloe will be fine. She’s alive.

  The shuttle makes three more stops before we get to Chloe’s house. At the first stop, Randy Conner gets on. He gives us a nod and then sits behind us.

  “What the hell’s up with this weather?” he says.

  Chloe doesn’t even look at him. She’s pressed against me, but I turn my head to talk to him.

  “The missile,” I say. “It did something to the weather.”

  “You think so?” Even in a disaster, Randy’s still a sarcastic jerk.

  I ignore him and turn back around. The shuttle is sliding everywhere; we can’t get around a single turn without almost running into either a tree or a brick wall. Finally, when we get to Chloe’s stop, it plows right into the UV covering at her shuttle stop, sending pieces everywhere.

  I stand up to help her off, but for a second, she looks normal.

  “Thanks, Piper,” she says.

  “For what?” She can’t know I saved her from death.

  Chloe reaches her palm up to my cheek. “For looking out for me.” And her words seem to convey something deeper, like maybe she does know what’s going on. On Monday, I’ll ask her about it. I’ll tell her about Shayne and the Underworld even though she’ll think I’m nuts. Because I feel like I have to tell someone or I’ll burst.

  “You’re welcome,” I say. I’m about to ask the driver to wait while I walk her to her house, but Chloe waves me away.

  “I’m fine,” she says.

  “You sure?”

  She nods. “Call me later.” And she walks down the steps of the shuttle and runs to her house.

  The driver backs up out of the debris of the shuttle stop and starts back down the road. I go back to my seat in front of Randy and sit down.

  “You think school will be canceled on Monday?” he asks.

  Overhead, the hail pounds down on the roof of the shuttle like a storm of bullets. I look out the window to where the ground has already picked up a layer of whiteness. I grip the back of the seat as we slide from one side of the street to the other.

  “If this keeps up,” I say.

  “Let’s just pray we make it home alive,” Randy says.

  It seems we will. The shuttle pulls up to the curb by the Botanical Haven without running into anything and stops. I stand up but notice Randy’s still sitting.

  “You’re not getting off?” I ask.

  He shakes his head. “I’m gonna go pick up my sister.” And for a second, it’s like there’s a side of Randy he’s never let me see before. He’s such an arrogant asshole on the outside, but yet he’s going to the elementary school to make sure his sister gets home okay. I blink, and his image shifts so he’s layered in blue moss. It covers his face and hair, his hands and arms. I hold my eyes open, staring at him to make sure it’s really there, but when I finally have to blink, it vanishes. Just like the covering on the pomegranate tree.

  “Keep her safe,” I say, because I can imagine what a little kid would think of a storm like this.

  “I always do,” Randy says.

  I wave goodbye to him and then get off the shuttle.

  The first thing I do when I get inside is text my mom. Even if she is off with my father somewhere, she’s got to be freaking out about this weather. I’m shivering, so I grab the comforter off my bed and wrap it around me. It helps, but all the glass of the Botanical Haven makes the cold seep right into my bones.

  “what’s going on?” I text.

  I make some coffee and wait for a reply, but none comes.

  I text her again. “weather’s gone crazy.”

  Still she doesn’t respond. It’s so unlike her, I can’t help but let it put me on edge. I sit at the ice cream table with my coffee and listen to the storm rage on the glass above. It’s shatterproof, so I’m not worried about it breaking, and I try to relax. The storm pounds down for the better part of the day until, in a single moment, it stops. Just. Like. That. Dark clouds turn to white, and a blue sky creeps back out from behind them. And then the sun comes, and everything outside starts to melt. Water cascades down our glass roof and pools on the ground outside.

  I flip on the tube to see what kind of trouble the storm has caused. Around the city, roofs and walls have caved in everywhere. Downtown, about fifty people are trapped beneath the debris of a building, and most of the coverage centers on this, though reports of wrecks and flooding are sprinkled in. I watch the news as each new horror is revealed. Rescue crews pull dead bodies from the building and flash to family members who find out their loved ones are dead the same time I do. I wonder where in the Underworld each person will go. I wonder how Shayne can handle all the sorrow.

  When I can’t watch any more of the misery, I turn off the tube. And then I go downstairs and start tending the plants and flowers even though they don’t really need it. They’ve been protected from the devastation outside. Like an oasis.

  Reese’s pink flowers are still alive, though they’ve sucked up most of the water in the vase. I move to water them, but then I stop. Should I really keep them alive? This is the god of war we’re talking about. I halfway feel like picking them up and tossing them into the compost heap, erasing all memories of him and our date. But that would just be causing more death. I go ahead and add water to the stems because that’s what I do. I take care of plants. I can always tell what they need—except for the pomegranate tree.

  The pomegranate tree. I realize, with the storm, I’ve almost forgotten about it. The Underworl
d is fading into memory, and I want to hold onto it with everything I have. Shayne’s pomegranate tree—in his garden—aching for something which isn’t there. Something missing from the soil. When I think about it, the sorrow inside the tree hits me, and I sink to the floor. What would make a tree in paradise so sad?

  The next day, aside from flooding, the cold spell is a memory. Temperatures are back at one hundred by seven a.m., and the weather station predicts humidity will get to dangerously high levels because of the melting. Precipitation is good in that it helps plants grow, but in such mass amounts, the ground and city can’t handle it. I try texting my mom again, but there’s still no response. I know I shouldn’t worry about her, but something just feels off. It’s totally out of her character to not be in touch, especially with the weather issues. I call her FON just to make sure, but she doesn’t answer.

  I call Chloe next, but her mom tells me she’s sick. Her mom doesn’t sound worried about Chloe but keeps me on the FON for five minutes to talk about the storm. I assure her I’m fine here alone at the Botanical Haven and that if I have any problems, I’ll come over. But I try to get her off the FON. I don’t want to spend my day talking to Chloe’s mom, so I ask her to have Chloe call me later. Once Chloe gets better, I’ll tell her everything, or at least I’ll try to. I think she’ll have a hard time believing I traveled to Hell and came back to talk about it. I have a hard time believing it. I want to make sure I tell her about Reese and tell her she should stay away from him. But as the hours tick by, I start to think this conversation will have to happen tomorrow at school.

  I’m about to lock the door and take a nap when the bell rings. I glance out the glass to see who’s here because, at this point, anyone is better than no one. It’s Melina—the girl who’d given me the box last week when my mom wasn’t home. When I open the door, humidity pours in like thick gel.