The Immortal Game (book 1) (28 page)

Ares took three of the bronze coins from the leather pouch Athena had given them and tucked the purse back into Ruby’s pack. Each coin had a woman’s face in relief on one side and an owl on the other. Ruby thought that the woman must be Athena, though it didn’t look much like her.

Ares walked up the dock toward shore. The wood creaked as he went. “John Wright,” he bellowed.

There was no immediate answer.

“Ares calls you,” he said louder. A ripple of surprise ran through the onlookers. A group of shades parted to reveal John crouching low among them.

“You’ve earned your fare,” Ares said. “You’re coming with us.”

The thin man’s dull eyes brightened. A wide smile nearly split his face in two. He raced down to the dock. It swayed and complained under his slight weight and Ruby worried that the whole thing might collapse under them.

Charon reached out to help her into the wobbly little boat. His hand was cold and clammy. She had to stop herself from wiping her own hand on her jeans when he let go.

Ares jumped in behind John and handed Charon the three coins. Ruby saw the ferryman tuck them into his dark robes before he pushed away from the dock. As if on cue, the crowd at the edge of the water began clamoring for their turn again.

Ruby looked around. The small lantern, hanging from a pole in the middle of the boat, only revealed more of the black and viscous water. John’s eyes were wide. His foot tapped. Ruby took his hand. He was dead, she remembered as her fingers wrapped around his bony hand, but it felt normal and she was glad she did it.

“Thank you, Goddess,” he whispered.

She felt like an imposter. She looked at Ares on her other side. His attention was focused at the front of the ferry, into the mist before them and the blackness surrounding them.

“Is it water?” she asked him, trying to keep her lips from pulling up in a disgusted sneer. It smelled faintly of metal.

“The Styx is the River of Hate. A burden for anyone,” he said, and then added as an afterthought, “Don’t touch it.”

She wasn’t about to.

The wall of mist closed in on them. As they entered its cold shroud she thought of the clamoring souls, the desperate pleas, the anxious dead. She shivered as she imagined going in and out of this suffocating mist and traveling across the River of Hate so many times a day.

In the next moment her dark thoughts were surrounded by light. She could see the far shore. There was a cave made from the same grey rocks they had left behind on the bank behind them. The air was warmer here, though there was no source of heat or light that Ruby could see.

She looked to Ares.

He nodded.

They were in Hades.

TWENTY ONE

Charon’s ferry slid onto the far bank. Ares made his way to the bow and turned to help Ruby. When she was on the shore he stuck out his hand to Charon. “Thank you, old friend.”

The ferryman shook his hand and nodded. “Find Persephone and get out as quick as you can,” he said, looking Ares in the eye. When he let go of Ares’s hand, he looked at Ruby.

She smiled at him, her good manners temporarily overcoming her fear, but the ferryman of the dead didn’t smile back. He turned back to the skiff, the river, and the other side without further comment.

The river’s edge ran as far as Ruby could see in either direction. Behind them was a large open tunnel lit by torches.

Ares hitched his pack up onto his shoulders. “Charon’s right. Let’s not waste time.”

Ruby slung her own pack up onto her back. The silver bow and arrows hung off, now easily accessible. It was warm here and she no longer needed the flannel shirt.

They walked up the torchlit tunnel. Along the walls were small alcoves carved into the rock. A statue stood in each. Ruby slowed to look. The one she stopped at was silver, a tall goddess standing in a wood, a sliver of a moon over her and a familiar-looking bow resting against her leg. Small trinkets lay at the goddess’s feet, offerings left by souls that had passed through.

The statue was so lifelike Ruby could almost see the ice-blue of Artemis’s eyes. She smiled. Only Hephaestus could have created it.

Many gods were artists. Apollo wrote poetry and songs. The muses entertained all of Olympus with their plays and stories. Many other gods and goddesses dabbled here and there with painting or weaving, but no other god was as prolific or as singularly talented as Hephaestus was with metal. None seemed to leave their signature on everything they touched like Heph did.

Ares and John walked ahead. Ruby scanned the alcoves. There was Hera, with a pomegranate in one hand and a peacock standing at her feet; Apollo, with his lute, the guitar-like instrument he always played; Aphrodite, made of ivory, was rendered perfectly with all her beauty intact.

Around the base of Aphrodite’s statue were piles of jewelry. Cufflinks, thick rope necklaces, even wedding rings. Wealthy souls had left piles of prized possessions for their idols, while legions of others languished on the far side of the Styx waiting for a single valuable thing to buy their way into the afterlife. She wanted to scoop it all up and run back to give it to Charon. It would get hundreds of souls across.

She looked down the tunnel, the way they had come. The river was lost behind a bend. Ares, trailed by John, was far ahead in the other direction. There was no time.

She walked up the tunnel, faster than before, but still looking for one statue in particular. Then, near the end, she saw him, tall and proud, and as handsome as ever; Ares chiseled from stone.

Around Ares’s feet were military decorations, paper poppies, and sets of dog tags. There were some weapons, but Ruby was stunned to see that what predominated the shrine were symbols of peace. There was a ceramic dove with an olive branch in its mouth, plastic buttons with peace signs, faded poems and songs written on yellowing sheets of paper. The tokens reminded her of what her love for Ares meant, not just for them, not just for her, but for the world.

She looked up the tunnel again. The real Ares had stopped. He was looking at her, patient, while John wandered here and there, nearly bouncing off the walls, eager to get on with the afterlife.

She turned back to the statue Ares, kissed her fingers and put them to his stone lips. She ran and grabbed Ares’s hand as she reached him. His energy flowed into her. She felt like she could sit on the stone floor of the Underworld and weep for an eternity over that feeling. He looked into her eyes and she saw a flash of Ares,
her
Ares. Not the god of war on a mission to the Underworld, but the god she loved.

She lifted up on her toes and kissed him on the cheek. He smiled, his expression curious. She shook her head—
don’t ask, just be
—and drew him up the tunnel toward Hades.

…

The passage became wider as they walked. The statues of the Twelve Olympians were behind them now. “Soon we’ll be at the Adamantine Gate,” Ares said. “It’s guarded by Cerberus. He’ll be our first real problem in Underworld.”

Ruby’s mind leaped from Death Valley, to Charon, to the Brigand, in three quick steps. She wondered what qualified as a “real
problem” to Ares.

“Cerberus’s job is to keep unwanted visitors out of the Underworld. Especially mortals,” he said with the voice of a tactician. No fear, just facts. “He’s a giant three-headed dog with a mane of asps and a cobra for a tail. A bite from the snakes will kill a person in minutes. There’s nothing to counteract it.”

She nodded and felt the blood slipping away from the top of her scalp.

“Cerberus hungers for human flesh. He lets shades pass unharmed, and he won’t bother me, but he’ll want you.”

She swallowed. “How do we … How do
I
get past him?”

“Luckily, he’s easy to distract. Do you have Pan’s pipes?”

“Yes! ‘Play the pipes for Cerberus.’” She repeated Pan’s words and retrieved the pipes from her bag. Her heart ached at the sight of them, the five hollow reeds lashed together with black and gold ties. She thought of Pan and his lilting songs, of the nymphs by the river, and dancing in the Great Hall.

“I’ll play,” Ares said. “You stick with John and stay calm.”

Ruby nodded, trying to imagine the creature he had described, trying to envision herself being calm when he came for her.

“At the far side of Cerberus’s lair is the Adamantine Gate. It’s cut out of a single diamond. Once we’re through the gate we’ll be safe and he won’t be able to follow, but if anything happens to Cerberus the gate will close and we’ll be locked out of Hades. We can’t use our weapons.”

Ruby barely had time to take this all in before Ares called John back from his eager strides ahead. “When we get to the gate, I need you to watch over …” he hesitated for a moment, “Aphrodite. Cerberus is angry at her. If he attacks you’ll have to help her run.”

The skinny shade nodded and stood closer to Ruby, who was nearly as tall as he was. “I will guard her,” he said.

The tunnel continued to widen until they came into a large cavern. Lit torches lined the walls. At the far end was the gate. It was at least three stories high. A single diamond. Its clear surface was carved with images of gods and goddesses. How could a diamond be carved?

The Adamantine Gate was wide open, ready to welcome the newly dead. To the right and left of the gate were two tunnels branching off. Both of these were dark and did not hint at what might lie inside.

“All we need to do is cross,” Ares reminded her as they walked into the cavern. In his hand he held Pan’s Pipes, ready to play.

Part of the way through, with no sign of the big dog, Ruby’s spirits lifted. Maybe they had lucked out. Maybe Cerberus wasn’t on duty. Her impulse was to pick up the pace, but Ares held her back by her hand. “Keep it cool.”

She tried to control her breathing, tried to focus on her footsteps, tried to stop herself from running. The far side of the cavern, and its promise of safety, was so far away.

Then she heard it. Not a bark. Not a growl. A sniff.

A loud and definite sniff. It came from the tunnel on their left. Ruby glanced in that direction, but she saw nothing in the gaping darkness. “Ares?” she whispered with a reedy breath.

He kept his focus on the gate. They were halfway there.

“Keep heading toward—” But Ares didn’t get to finish.

Cerberus was there, in front of them, before Ruby could register that he was coming at all. He was enormous, black as pitch, and with orange- and brown-striped snakes curling and twisting around his heads. A massive cobra came around him from behind—the tail. The cobra’s hood was splayed and it hissed at them. Cerberus’s three giant heads reached halfway up the height of the cavern. Their muzzles dripped with heavy ropes of saliva.

Ares began to blow across the top of the pipes. But instead of the beautiful music that called Nymphs from their wood and entertained rooms full of gods, thin feeble notes came from the pipes. What Pan made look effortless, Ares tried in vain.

Cerberus bent his awful heads down toward Ruby and sniffed again.

She began to shake, but she was unable to move forward as the dog smelled her.

John stood motionless on the other side of Ruby.

Ares’s presence of mind remained. As he continued to coax a tune from the pipes, he kicked John into action.

The dead man moved. He grabbed Ruby’s hand and pulled her along past two enormous paws and toward the gate.

Cerberus was agile for such a large creature and he turned in one quick motion. Snakes darted out at them, hissing and snapping. There was no way they could get to the gate before he swallowed Ruby whole.

One of the dog’s heads bent close from behind and sniffed again. Why hadn’t that awful cobra-tail come to bite her yet? Why wasn’t she dead yet?

She felt a tug at her back. She half turned and saw a giant black eye over her shoulder.

It was happening. Here it was. Colossal teeth would be ripping her open any second. She waited for it. Her eyes squeezed closed.

Instead the monster tore loose her pack, pulling it free, and headed off toward the dark cave he had come from.

Ruby’s eyelids flew open wide. Her fear was replaced with anger.
The bow!
She changed direction. “Give me back Artemis’s bow,” she screamed.

“Ruby! Forget it,” Ares called out as he put the pipes back in his pocket and ran to her. He grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the gate.

“No.” Ruby tried to pull away from him. It wasn’t Artemis’s wrath she feared, or anything else. She wanted that bow.

The giant dog slowed then. He stopped when he reached the entrance to his cave. All three heads bent to the pack. He tore open the top flap with his middle head. He pulled out one of the smaller sacks with the left head, and another with the right. Then he hurried away into the darkness, leaving behind the torn pack with the silver bow still attached.

Ruby wasted no time. She pulled free of Ares and ran to the pack. She fumbled with it, trying to hold the torn leather together, and ran.

Then, from behind her, she heard Cerberus’s nails clink against the stone floor of the cavern. She didn’t look back, but the expression on Ares’s face told her everything she needed to know. The giant dog was right behind her.

Ares drew his sword, wanting to save Ruby more than he wanted to get into Hades.

Ruby reached for his sleeve and pulled him along as she ran past. “Let’s go.”

Cerberus’s panting was loud in her ears as she ran. He was close, but she thought that the gate might be closer. Her legs ached and her lungs burned. When she passed beneath the diamond arch she felt as though her heart would explode, it was beating so fast. She turned back toward the dog, wanting to see how close she had been to death.

Cerberus stood on the other side of the gate, right behind them.

Ruby blinked as familiar dark brown crumbs slid down his foamy saliva, but her thoughts were blasted out of her head in the next moment as Cerberus barked his disappointment, with all three heads, loud enough to make her ears ring.

TWENTY TWO

“Cerberus must have smelled the ambrosia in Athena’s bars. Few beings can resist the food of the gods. He ate the hardtack too. And this pack is useless.” Ares threw the shredded leather to the side.