Six Months with Cerberus

by Lucas, Naomi

There were more eyes looking back at her, more than she could count, each forming heads that danced and slithered in and out of her vision. So many serpents with forked tongues that licked the air. Dozens of canine jowls with white teeth that had black tips. Tips like the top of the castle.

  It wasn’t real, it couldn’t be real!

  The warrior that had tugged her from the depths was still there, but he was only a hazy outline.

  And as she continued to stare, she realized those horrid head-like shapes came from the man himself, formed from the shadows that clung to him, gathering directly behind him. Hundreds of mouths snapped shut then slowly parted. Stringy saliva strung like spider webs across their open gapes.

  “Look away,” they said in the warrior’s voice, a hundred times over. Thousands of razor-sharp teeth warped outward in her direction. Their black tips glistening.

  Cyane’s mouth dried up.

  Her throat constricted.

  He was no man at all!

  She screamed until nothing existed but the shrill sounds tearing from her throat.

  Hades

  Cerberus stalked the periphery of the ballroom with the mortal’s screams still ringing in his ears. His canine companions did the same. Their shadowy forms and quiet steps meant they were better at concealing themselves from the crowd than he’d ever been. They were his eyes, his ears, himself. Once attached to him, but no more.

  He missed their company sometimes.

  They searched the faces of the undying, listened to their conversations, and reported back to him with their findings.

  One of the servants offered him a cup of nectar. He shook his head.

  With a breach in Tartarus, everyone was suspect until they weren’t. It wasn’t wholly unusual for a god to try mischief, but to bring in a mortal woman just to throw her to Styx’s waters?

  Bait. Cerberus never joined the celebrations, and now he remembered why. She’d been bait.

  After she’d succumbed to hysteria—which had taken an impressive amount of time—he and Minos delivered the mortal woman to restrictive chambers for questioning. Cyane, as Minos called her, had fallen into a deep sleep when he lay down next to her and hummed the torment from her mind.

  Cerberus knew what he looked like. His lips twitched. Horrifying ugliness ran thick through his bloodline, but it wasn’t until Hades gave him a human male’s form that true self-awareness came to him. He wasn’t ashamed of his once unique appearance, often finding that he missed it, longed for it, if only because it kept others away from him so he could serve without distraction. But he also found the value of being formed into a human male. His new body and all that came with it had a different type of horror and power he enjoyed utilizing.

  He’d initially meant to destroy this mortal Cyane, like he’d done so to the thousands of souls over centuries who’d tried to escape their fate. He wanted to blame the fact that she’d been crazy enough to jump back into Styx, but it was more complex than that. He now wasn’t sure if the mortal had even known it was Styx she’d jumped into. It wasn’t just crazy.

  It was beyond that…

  When Cerberus had ridden through the tunnel, he'd questioned his tactics, his hesitance, and confronted his failure.

  But by the time she’d turned up, still alive, his curiosity had been ravenous.

  He was eager for her to awaken so he could question her. But that would have to wait.

  Cerberus scanned the crowd again in search of Hades. He still sat upon his throne, conversing with another undying. Cerberus made his way towards them.

  Several of the guests nodded in greeting to him as he passed by, but they did not meet his eyes. They rarely did.

  He stepped onto the dais and positioned himself at Hades’s left side.

  The god, Hermes, laughed at one of his lord’s jokes. “There is no one happier than the Lord of the Underworld this time of year!”

  Hades smiled. “And no one more upset than our great Lady Demeter.”

  “She is beautiful when she mourns.”

  “Perhaps next year you will finally convince the goddess to join us in our dark revelry.”

  “And subject our queen to her mother’s pecking even more? She may never forgive you!” Hermes placed his hands on his stomach and bowed over in laughter. “Would you risk an empty bed for another year? Another hundred?”

  Hades’s form darkened ever so imperceptibly. “You assume my bed is empty, Hermes?”

  “Assume?” Hermes’s laughter continued. “I have seduced my fair share of women. Not one has ever wanted their mother in on their seduction.”

  “No. I suppose you’re right. Demeter would only find a way to sully my intention. What do you think, Cerberus?”

  Hades and Hermes both turned to face him. The two gods shared a grin at his expense. Although their grins had entirely different meanings.

  “Our Queen Persephone would not like her mother here,” Cerberus said.

  Hermes's grin widened. “Oh keep going, hound, tell us why?”

  “Our queen is not one who would want her greatest ally to see her in the shadows.”

  “Ah, so you know our queen well?”

  Cerberus straightened and looked at Hades, who nodded for him to continue. He turned back to Hermes. “I know my lord well. He jests in bringing the Goddess of Agriculture here.”

  Hermes turned back to Hades. “Is that so? Does Hades, the great God of the Dead, jest?”

  “Persephone is not the humble maiden she makes herself out to be. Demeter is best left with her naivety in the sunlight. Same with your own, Hermes.” Hades abruptly rose from his throne. “Cerberus join me. Hermes, we will speak again later.” He dismissed the god with a flick of the hand, and Cerberus fell into step behind Hades as they walked through the crowd. The undying guests stopped their musings to watch.

  When they were finally alone in Hades’s study a short time later—the room was carved completely out of stone, save for a terrace that overlooked the gateway and subsequent gate towers in and out of the Underworld—Cerberus moved to the terrace and gazed at the spot where he pulled Cyane from the waters below. He heard Hades settle himself in a chair by the fire on his left.

  “Hermes is not far off in his assumption,” Hades mused.

  Cerberus tore his eyes from Styx. “Do you think he spies?”

  “Your paranoia is so much fun, but no. He’s never been one to spy. In fact, he’s been helpful in my plans for this event. But I wonder...if others have come to the same assumptions as our dear traveler.”

  “I wouldn’t know.”

  “You do hear a great many things as my guardian, do you not?”

  Many things, and then some. Cerberus sat down in the empty high-backed chair across from Hades. “Hecate wants fresh flesh, Melinoe schemes for companionship.” Hades laughed at that. “The Erinyes still have not stopped arguing, and Hermes, well, I have nothing more than failed seductions to report on his part, not assumptions.”

  Hades glowered. “You do know what I speak of, do you not? That my bed is empty and has been as such for countless millennia. That Persephone refuses me even to this day?”

  Cerberus knew. He knew much of what happened in the Underworld, but Hades was lord, and Cerberus’s choice to not bring up such personal, quaint matters was his alone. What care did he have that Hades slept alone, when the gates of the Underworld were always open, needing Cerberus’s watchful eye?

  But he settled into his seat anyway. Then, unsettled, poured himself a cup of nectar he would only think about drinking. He resettled and sighed. “What would you have me do about it?”

  “Do about it? You could stop being such a servant and implore me for one.”

  Cerberus swirled his cup and dully said, “Let me help you, my lord.”

  “Bah!”

  “We’ve had an intruder, a mortal—”

  Hades tempered his outburst. “Ah yes, the reason you vanished from my side? A mortal you say?”

  “She arrived suddenly—�
��

  “A woman?”

  “Yes,” Cerberus gritted.

  “Very good!” Hades clapped his hands. “Where is she now?”

  Cerberus considered taking off his helmet and shooting back his nectar. “Asleep, recovering in the Lethe wing. The mortal arrived here by no normal means—”

  A sly smile twisted Hades's lips, stopping him from finishing the story.

  “What?” Cerberus asked.

  “My plan is coming to fruition. A god has the right to enjoy the success of his endeavors. I assume the woman is in good health, that you did not devour her soul? I would not like that.”

  Cerberus narrowed his eyes. He was loyal to Hades, above all else in this realm and all others. Not even his father, the great dragon Typhon who remained trapped far below in the bowels of Tartarus, could claim such loyalty from him.

  “This plan…” Cerberus hesitated, he was not trained to ask questions. At least not ones that questioned Hades’s motivations.

  “Is the woman in good health or not?”

  “She glimpsed my true form.”

  Hades burst out in laughter again. “No wonder she sleeps in Lethe’s wing. Forgetfulness is a wonderful gift we give humans. I see, I see. Perhaps my bed will not remain empty for much longer.”

  Cerberus’s eyes flared. “You’re not concerned about how she got here?”

  “I know how she got here. Hermes and Charon brought her here.”

  Hermes. Cerberus’s demeanor shriveled as his lips briefly pulled back into a snarl. “And dumped her in the middle of Styx? To die an agonizing death from either me or the ancient Titaness?” No mortal or undying deserved such a fate. He recalled his own fierce fury at seeing the mortal break the laws of gods, but that fury was nothing compared to knowing that he’d been tricked.

  “They did what?” Hades’s anger materialized—the stone under their seats cracked. “They will answer to me. Styx is not to be disrupted, she serves us well and cannot be replaced. But she will not harm our mortal. I’ll make sure Styx is compensated for the trespass.”

  “And me?”

  “Perhaps you should’ve enjoyed yourself tonight instead of offending me.”

  Cerberus’s fingers twitched around his cup. “And the woman? A mortal has not dwelled here in many years. This place is not for them. Especially not your bed.”

  “That is not for you to decide.”

  “Allowing a mortal woman into your bed, mere days before our beloved Queen arrives, will not excite Persephone into sharing it with you,” he fumed.

  Hades’s terrible smile returned. “Implore me.”

  Cerberus’s own anger festered, slowly. He stood, and lowered himself down on one knee before his lord, and bowed his head. “You are right, as always. What will you have me do?”

  Hades placed his hand atop Cerberus’s helmet. “Your job. The celebration is rife with schemers, beggars, and lesser immortals seeking power any way they can. Watch the gates vigilantly, let no one leave until the celebration is over.”

  “Yes, my lord.” It was an easy request. One he was always willing to do. He wanted to say more; the other gods would not like being told what to do.

  “And as for our special guest, when she has fully recovered, deliver her to me.”

  “Of course.”

  “Very good. You may return to your duty.”

  Cerberus rose and made his way to the door, at once eager to stay with Hades, but just as impatient to find out more about the woman, and how such a being found the attention of the Lord of the Underworld.

  Hades’s voice trailed after Cerberus when he stepped out into the hallway. “And Cerberus, do try and enjoy the party this year, lest I find my gifts wasted on you. I really hate being offended. Don’t make me regret my actions.”

  Cerberus swore and continued walking.

  The Days of Melinoe

  Cyane woke with a start.

  A scream tore from her throat. There was a monster! Demons. They existed! Terror swept through her. Sharp teeth, large jaws, and thousands of eyes clashed as one in her head.

  “Shhh, shhhhh, it’s okay. It was all just a bad dream.” A beautiful woman crawled into the bed next to her, undeterred by Cyane’s screams. “You’re awake now.”

  Tears filled Cyane’s eyes, and she clutched onto the woman pressed against her side. Fingers brushed through her hair, and warmth flushed her skin. She curled herself into the stranger and cried.

  “Shhh.” The woman wrapped an arm around Cyane and held her tightly. “Nightmares are no fun, no fun at all.”

  “It wasn’t a nightmare, it was real.”

  “Then why are you in a warm bed, well away from all who would hurt you?”

  Good question. Cyane pushed her face into the blankets piled around her. An image of the beast flashed in her head. The woman petted her hair and shoulders as she struggled to make sense of it all.

  The terror faded, fast and hard, almost as quickly as it had hit her. Memories resurfaced, and as the fear continued to dissolve, so did the unexplainably impossible images in her head.

  Where am I?

  Who’s holding me?

  Somewhere in the back of her addled head, Cyane knew she should be just as scared waking in an unknown bed, with an unknown person, but after all that had happened…

  She was content to have a reprieve, a moment to think.

  Her tears dried up, and she relaxed. The stranger readjusted so Cyane could rest her head in the woman’s lap. The cooing and soft whispers she sang did more for Cyane than a healthy dose of Xanax ever could.

  Fingertips softly scraped her skull, gently pulling out the tangles of her hair. Internal warmth flooded her chest. Cyane’s breathing evened out.

  She took the opportunity to study her surroundings.

  Cyane lay on a soft, plush bed in the middle of a room that could’ve been part of a cave. It resembled much of what she’d seen so far: black and gray jagged walls with pillars of gleaming, wet obsidian-like rocks throughout. Candles flickered weak golden light, giving the room a homey yet obscured look and casting deep shadows in the farther recesses of the room, making it appear larger than it really was.

  A hearth was along the same wall as the bed; no fire burned within. Perfectly designed furniture, seemingly made from the rocks of the cavern themselves, were positioned throughout. They were ornate in a way of smooth designs, which was the only detail that differentiated them from the cave itself. The furniture and bedding were covered in swaths of deep purple and black linens.

  A smaller room lay across the way, much like the room she was in. Although a deep stone basin rested in the middle of it with what looked like steam rising into the air. She could smell something floral and clean, reminding her of bath oils and Epson salts.

  Countless stalactites hung across the ceiling. And like the castle, they looked ready to pierce all that lay beneath them.

  Maybe this really is a nightmare. . .

  She turned over to look up at the woman holding her. It was like the mother’s hold Cyane often longed for.

  But the woman that held her looked anything but maternal.

  Cyane swallowed weakly as the stranger met her eyes. Whoever this person was...was the most beautiful, ethereally enchanting creature Cyane had ever laid eyes on.

  Hair as white and silken as fresh snow, and looking just as soft, was clipped behind her ears with dark jewels. She wore black veils over her head, her shoulders, and dress, but where they didn’t cover her, the woman’s skin was just as pale as her hair, if not more so. As Cyane gazed at the figure who held her, she thought she saw the woman’s body become translucent, her white locks falling through what should’ve been flesh and blood and bone.

  Then there were her nails...

  They were long enough to be claws and slightly curled as if overgrown.

  Cyane shuddered. Now that she’d seen her, the woman’s touch felt like ghostly fingers crawling up under Cyane’s flesh, tip-tapping all the way to her
head, where they settled in her mind like writhing maggots.

  Between the woman and the room, she knew she was somewhere that shouldn’t exist. Her stomach constricted, the room and everything in it wasn’t...humanized. Everything was all too unreal...strange.

  “Are you feeling better?” the woman asked.

  No! No, I’m far from okay. So far from okay that I don’t know what I feel anymore.

  “Yes,” she said. “Thank...you.” Cyane shifted, and the discomfort brewing inside her vanished. A sigh escaped her. She stared at the stranger, waiting for the woman’s hair to slip into her body again. Had it been her imagination? She needed that validation. “Who are you?” she asked.

  “Melinoe, daughter of Hades and Persephone, a true power in this realm.”

  Cyane’s brow furrowed.

  Validation.

  The woman straightened regally. “It would serve you well to align yourself with me.”

  Cyane sat upright herself. Something in the way the woman said align felt like compellment. “What? What do you mean align?”

  Melinoe smiled. “You are a mortal, are you not? Everyone in the castle is talking about it. A mortal has not stayed among us in the dark in many years, at least not since I was born. If you were to show reverence to me, as a mortal should to all the gods and goddesses, I would favor you.” Melinoe sucked in a breath. “I would favor you above all others.”

  Cyane clutched her head.

  “Are you okay?” Melinoe asked. “Would you like a drink?”

  She searched her memory for information on Melinoe but couldn’t remember anything about the goddess. If Cyane truly was in the Underworld, and a fever dream hadn’t taken over her mind, she needed to start paying attention to the details. She needed to get herself out of here.

  She jerked. The note!

  Relief hit when she reached into her short’s pocket and pulled out the scrap of paper—which had miraculously survived the water. It was still with her. She inhaled. That’s all that mattered. Cyane unfolded it and read the same simple sentence for the billionth time. She sagged and pressed it to her chest, but then her gaze shifted back to Melinoe.