Right on cue, one of them reared its ugly head.
Syl stiffened beside me. “What the hell is that?”
A wall of water had risen in front of the ferry, and though the engines were still working, we weren’t moving. A figure appeared at the top of the wall, balanced on the pulsing slope of water as if it was solid ground. It was Styx, of course. She had been a pain in my backside since I’d met her. Why should now be any different?
“Hold this.” I shoved Syl in the direction of the ship’s wheel, and stomped outside onto the open deck. “What are you doing, Styx? Get out of the way.” I had to shout to be heard over the noise of the water, as the wave constantly renewed itself while other parts of it succumbed to the lure of gravity.
She showed those pointy teeth in a vicious smile when she saw me. “I thought it was you. What have you done with Charon?”
“What makes you think I’ve done anything with Charon?”
“Because Charon has been ferrying the dead across my river here since before history began and, in all that time, he has never once diverted from the normal course. You can’t take this ferry. How will the dead find their way to the afterlife without it?”
“The dead might just have to take a chill pill and wait a little while. What does it matter? They’re dead, for God’s sake. Where else are they going to go? Charon can get back to business as soon as we finish our errand.”
“I forbid it.”
“Dammit, Styx! Do you want Jake or not? I can’t get him for you unless I borrow this ferry.”
“My oath to Lord Hades—”
“Has nothing to do with it,” a new voice cut in. Apollo stalked out onto the deck, favouring Styx with the glare he usually reserved for me. “You swore to guard the borders and facilitate the passage of souls across the river. Nothing more.”
She grinned in triumph. “Exactly. And how are those souls meant to cross the river without the ferry? You cannot take it.”
Apollo drew himself up to his full height. Even without access to his power, he cut a pretty impressive figure. “I require the use of this ferry for the next several hours, after which I shall see it is returned to Charon’s care. Souls are only brought across the river once the ferry has a full load. Since it has just made a trip, it won’t be needed again until I’m finished with it, so its absence will make no difference. Now let us pass, or you will stand in breach of your own oath to Jacob Steele.”
She frowned, a sudden wind blowing her hair back from her face and whipping the water beneath her into a dark froth. “How so?”
“You made a deal with him, and he agreed that the punishment would be death if he failed to keep his end of the bargain. If you now thwart him from keeping his promise, you have effectively murdered him. And everyone will know that the word of Styx is no longer to be trusted.”
Ooh, low blow. Styx’s whole reputation was built on the “my word is my bond” thing. She couldn’t afford to let a story like that get around.
There was a long silence while Styx digested this. “I bow to my Lord Apollo’s will,” she said at last. If looks could kill, Apollo would have dropped dead on the spot. I didn’t care about Styx’s hurt feelings. She’d just have to suck it up. Not even a goddess always got her way.
The wave subsided, taking Styx with it. In a moment, the river was as flat as a mill pond, albeit the darkest, most foreboding mill pond in existence.
I grinned at Apollo. “I always thought you’d come in handy for something if we kept you long enough.”
He rolled his eyes and stalked back inside. I followed as the ferry began to move once more.
“Nice job,” Syl said as we came back onto the bridge. “Do you want to take the wheel again?”
I waved a hand at her. “You can have it. I might try to grab a nap before we arrive.” It felt like years since I’d slept. This saving people thing really took it out of you.
“Where exactly are we going?” Apollo asked.
“We’re heading for the point where the Styx meets the Phlegethon.” I glanced at Syl. “You’ll know it when you see it. It’s a river made of fire.”
Her eyes widened. “We don’t have to sail on it, do we?”
If any ship had a chance to sail the River of Fire and survive, Charon’s was probably it. Fortunately, we didn’t have to risk it. “No, we won’t get too close. We’ll be disembarking there.”
Apollo’s gaze went vague, as if he was mentally reviewing a map of the underworld. I could tell the instant he realised where we were going, by the expression of horror that came over his face. “Tartarus? You’re taking us to Tartarus?”
“I’m afraid so.”
“May I ask why?” His tone was frosty.
“Because we need a master smith. Someone with metalshaping powers, who can whip up the perfect key for us before we run out of time.”
“No,” Apollo said, folding his arms across his chest. “You can’t.”
Syl glanced uneasily from me to Apollo and back again. “She can’t what? Who are you talking about?”
I ignored her for a moment, trying to stare Apollo down. There was no way I was losing this argument. It was the only chance Jake had. “He was Hephaistos’s assistant for centuries. He’s probably the greatest living smith in the world.” In either world—the underworld or the real one.
“No, absolutely not.” Apollo shook his head decisively. “I forbid it.”
“Then I’ll shove you overboard and you and Styx can forbid each other things until the cows come home. But I’m breaking him out of there. It’s the only way.”
“Breaking who out?” Syl asked.
“She’s talking about Brontes,” Apollo growled, never taking his eyes from me. “One of the cyclopes, thrown into Tartarus by Zeus. Never to be released,” he added pointedly.
“Well, as you said yourself, Zeus isn’t here anymore. We have to work with what we’ve been given.”
“He won’t help you anyway,” Apollo said. “The cyclopes all hate me. He’d probably be thrilled to hear I’ve lost my powers.”
“Then I won’t tell him it’s for you. Why does he hate you, anyway?”
“It’s a long story,” Apollo growled. Ha. I’d used that line myself on Lucas just recently. It usually meant the speaker had been involved in some dodgy stuff and didn’t want to incriminate themselves.
“Fine. Keep your secrets.” It hardly surprised me to hear that someone hated Apollo, but I couldn’t see a better way. Someone had to make that key, and there were no other metalshapers in reach. “Do you want that collar off or not?”
Apollo made a noise of frustration and flounced out.
“Are you sure about this?” Syl asked. “You’re not just jumping in without thinking it through because you’re worried about Jake?”
“You think we should sacrifice Jake because Apollo might be able to make a key to get the collars off eventually? Are you willing to wait around, just keeping your fingers crossed it will all work out? Or would you rather we took action?”
“No need to get all fired up at me. It sounds like a big risk, that’s all. I want to be sure there’s no other way.”
“I think the biggest risk is to do nothing. The gods haven’t been winning too many rounds lately. If they’re not careful, the shadow shapers will land a knockout blow while they’re stuffing around waiting for someone to save them.”
She sighed. “Fine, whatever. I suppose since we’ve already stolen the ferry there’s not much point turning back now. But you get to explain it all to Hades.”
***
A hand on my shoulder shook me awake. Syl was leaning over me. “We’re here. Nap time is over.”
Already? Surely I’d only closed my eyes a moment ago? I struggled upright, rubbing my back where the hard ridges of the row of plastic seats had stuck into it. “What time is it?”
Syl pretended to consult her bare wrist. “I make it a hair past a freckle.” She gave me an exasperated look. “Even if I had a watch, i
t wouldn’t work down here, but I reckon you were asleep for two or three hours.”
Two or three hours! I forced down the panic that threatened to rise into my throat. It was a damn sight quicker than the journey over land had been, but I was ever conscious of Jake’s dwindling time. If Syl was right, he only had a couple left now. I glanced out the window of the ferry, but the level of light outside told me nothing, as this part of the underworld existed in a permanent twilight. There was no time to waste, however. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and headed for the bridge with my backpack.
Apollo turned as I entered. “Good. You’re awake. The harpies are massing. They’ll try to stop us leaving the ferry. What’s the plan?”
The ferry had come to a stop beside the riverbank. The confluence with the Phlegethon lay ahead, the orange glow of the River of Fire giving the whole scene an eerie look. Overhead, harpies circled, and several had landed on the rocky ground between the ferry and the yawning red-lit cave that led down to Tartarus. They glared suspiciously in the direction of the ferry.
“At least they haven’t started throwing rocks at us,” I said.
“I’m sure they recognise the ferry,” Apollo said. “They were once my sister’s followers, so they will know me, but I doubt that will hold much sway over them. They belong to Hades now.”
“That’s all right. I have this, remember?” I pulled the Helm of Darkness from my backpack and settled it on my head. “Run out the gangway.”
Syl pressed a button on the console. “Good luck.”
I went downstairs and headed back through the main cabin, with both Syl and Apollo trailing me. Outside on the open deck, the smell of harpy was strong. If any of the winged horrors had bathed in the last millennium, I’d eat my own Baseball Cap of Supreme Sneakiness. I nearly gagged on the stench of rotting meat that clung to them like flies to a corpse.
Three harpies landed on the gangway, effectively blocking it. They fluffed their black feathers and spread their wings menacingly as Apollo and Syl stepped outside to meet them. I moved to one side so as not to get trampled.
“Son of Zeus,” one said, stepping forward. “What are you doing here?”
“I’ve come to inspect the prison,” Apollo said.
“Our master told us nothing of this.” Suspicion was in every haughty line of the harpy’s face. “Where are his orders?”
Apollo tapped his forehead. “In here.”
“Not good enough. No one is allowed into Tartarus without written permission from Lord Hades.” She cackled. “Unless, of course, you wish to become a resident.”
Apollo gave her that regal sneer of his. “I am a god. How dare you defy me?”
“I would defy Zeus the father himself,” she said, rattling her feathers as her companions hissed their displeasure. Looking closer, I discovered what made the rattling sound—the long feathers of her wings were tipped with steel that gleamed razor sharp in the orange light. “No one may pass without a decree from Lord Hades.”
*Cerberus,* I called silently. There was no way I could sneak past the bird women. That would be a good way to get myself sliced to ribbons, invisible or not.
Cerberus emerged from the depths of the ferry. He began to growl as soon as he saw the harpies, the hackles on the back of his necks rising.
*Get ’em, boy!*
Cerberus didn’t need to be told twice. He leapt forward with a deep bark, and the harpies scattered, screeching and cursing. I wasted no time in following him down the ramp to shore.
I hurried up the slope toward the cave mouth, grinning to myself as Cerberus continued to harass the harpies. None of them were stupid enough to come within range, but that didn’t stop him from leaping into the air, all three heads snapping with gusto at any harpy that looked like it might even be thinking of getting close enough to bite. A harpy was perched on a rock beside the cave mouth, presumably meant to be guarding the way, but she, too, was distracted by Cerberus’s antics and the outraged cries of her sisters. I slipped past without her ever knowing I was there.
Inside, I inched forward into the demonic red glow. My connection to Cerberus sharpened my night vision somewhat, though it wasn’t as good as being linked to a cat. Still, beggars couldn’t be choosers. It was certainly better than standard human-issue vision.
The ceiling of the cave lowered toward me, and the walls closed in until I was walking in a tunnel which sloped gently down. Faint whisperings echoed up to greet me, murmurs of protest and hissing sounds, with the occasional scrape of claws on stone or a clinking of chains. Darkness pressed in around me and my steps slowed. I must be crazy to even think of entering this place. As if someone had read my mind, a low chuckle issued from somewhere down the tunnel. It was not a happy sound.
I forced myself to continue, step by reluctant step. Gradually, it became easier to see as the red glow brightened, lighting the tunnel’s rough stone walls. There were no doors or side passages, only this one tunnel that continued inexorably to sink further below ground. I was just starting to wonder how far I would have to walk before I found anyone, when the first door appeared on my right. It was made of steel, and the bolt that secured it appeared to be rusted in place. Surely there could be nothing alive inside? Yet as I passed, something big hurled itself against the door, growling in a way that sent shivers down my spine. I moved a little faster, anxious to put some distance between me and whatever lurked on the other side of that door.
The tunnel rounded a bend, and suddenly, a vast space opened before me—a huge pit, its bottom lost in darkness. The path I’d been following now became a ramp which spiralled around the edges of the pit. I could barely see the other side through the gloom. I started down, keeping close to the wall. The ramp was wide enough for three or four to walk abreast, but there was no railing, and I had no wish to find out exactly how deep the pit was. Further down, where the ramp curved away from me, were some barred openings. Mindful of my experience with the locked door further up, I made sure not to get too close to the bars as I approached the first cell. I didn’t want anything inside getting hold of me. I peered into the darkness, but nothing moved. The cell appeared to be empty, unless the inhabitant was as invisible as I. After a moment, I moved on. The cell was too small to hold even an invisible cyclops. The one-eyed giants were not known for their diminutive size.
A noise like a giant chewing rocks rose from the depths of the pit, and I shrank against the wall, heart pounding. Silently, I drew my knife. Maybe it wouldn’t be much use against the denizens of Tartarus, but it made me feel better to have it in my hand, ready to strike if needed. After a moment, the rock-grinding noise faded away and I continued down the ramp.
My eyes were getting better adjusted to the low level of light. In the next cell, I could make out the figure of a man curled up on the floor. He didn’t move, and I couldn’t tell if he was asleep or dead. In either case, he wasn’t a cyclops, so I forced myself to keep going. I couldn’t free everyone here. Indeed, I would be a fool to try. Zeus might have imprisoned some of the inmates with little cause, but many of them had well and truly earned their eternal punishment. It would be the height of stupidity to release them because of a misplaced pity for their condition. And whatever Apollo’s opinion to the contrary, I wasn’t stupid.
The next cell held a cyclops. Finally!
“Brontes,” I whispered, trying not to make too much noise. “Is that you?”
The cyclops lifted his head and blinked once, a ponderous movement of his giant eyelid, but he didn’t answer.
I tried again. “Brontes, servant and apprentice of Hephaistos, is that you?”
The cyclops hauled himself to his feet, sniffing the air suspiciously. He stepped up to the bars and I backed away, just in case. The great eye swivelled to one side and then the other as the cyclops searched for the source of the voice.
“I’m a friend of Hephaistos,” I said.
The cyclops threw himself against the bars, howling. Startled, I leapt back, and nearly managed to t
hrow myself into the abyss. The cyclops got one massive arm out between the bars and scrabbled at the hard stone of the ramp. With horror, I noticed the deep scores in the floor, showing just how many times before he must have done the same thing. I shuddered and moved on, hoping that this wasn’t Brontes. The howling faded into a keening sound behind me.
I continued down the ramp. Brontes would be no use to us if he was in that condition. What would I do if that had been him? I shook my head, trying to shake loose the gloomy thoughts. Hephaistos had said there were several cyclopes locked up here. Brontes would be sane when I found him. He would be able to help us. I’d come this far; I just had to keep the faith a little longer. It couldn’t all be for nothing. Jake was depending on me.
The next cell held something that huddled in the darkness against the back wall. I couldn’t really make out its shape but it was too small to be a cyclops, so I left it in peace. This could take longer than I had hoped. Apollo would just have to hold off the harpies without me for a while longer. At least he had Cerberus to provide enthusiastic assistance.
The rock-crunching noise started up again in the depths of the pit and I shuddered. Whatever was down there, I had no desire to meet it. I marched on through the darkness, completing a full circuit of the pit before I reached the next cell. At least this one contained a cyclops. I checked the floor outside the cell; there were no scratch marks. That was a good sign.
Mindful of my last experience, I took up a position well to the side, safely out of reach. I had no desire to dice with death on the edge of the precipice again. “Brontes? Is that you?”
The cyclops in the cell hauled himself to his feet. He was more than twice my height. He clenched the bars in his massive hands and rattled them.
“Brontes, servant of Hephaistos,” I repeated, in a louder voice. “Is that you?”
“Who calls?” a deep voice responded from further down the ramp.
At last! I hurried down the ramp, the cyclops behind me still rattling the bars of his cell. The next cell had no bars, only a heavy wooden door set into a blank stone wall. There was a small slit in the door at eye level, and I peeked through. A cyclops sat on the floor, with his back against the wall. Even seated, he was a good head taller than I was. How on earth had he even fit through that door? His single eye squinted suspiciously into the darkness toward the slit.
Rivers of Hell (Shadows of the Immortals Book 3) Page 17
