The Immortal Game (book 1) (31 page)

Ares positioned his sword to saw at one of the snakes. “It won’t work,” Pirithous said. “Heracles himself tried to free me.”

“I’m not Heracles.” Ares bristled at the comparison to a mortal hero. He began to slice at the snake around Pirithous’s arm. The serpent reared up its horned head and hissed. Ares’s sword slid back and forth against the brown scales, but the snake remained uncut, even as the ground of Hades shook. Ares stopped cutting at the snakes. The tremor stopped too.

“He’ll know you’re here with me,” Pirithous said. “You need to go. Hades told the guards to take her deep. You must find her.”

Ares resheathed his sword.

“How can we leave him here like this?” Ruby asked.

“You have no choice,” the former king commanded. “Save her for me. If I can at least see her. If only once a day. If only for part of the year. It’s more than I have now. She’s everything to me.”

…

“How will we get into Tartarus?” Ruby asked Ares as they came out into the open area of the garden courtyard. Ares didn’t respond, but walked faster. She reached out and grabbed for his hand. “How can we get in?” she repeated. Anxiety had replaced the determination she was used to seeing on his face. “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t take you there,” he said and headed in the direction of the Fields of Asphodel.

The vision of Tartarus returned to her. She swallowed the harsh memories down and focused on Ares. “You have to.
We
have to. There’s no choice.” She managed to pull hard enough on his arm so that he stopped walking.

“I can keep you safe
here.
” He pointed down to the grassy floor of Hades. “Maybe.” He paused. “I can fight off Chimeras, and even the god of the dead. But I can’t say the same in Tartarus. We’ll have to find another way.”

“What other way? I can’t go back to Olympus, Zeus will destroy me. We can’t live on Earth. The planet and everyone there is dying. We can’t stay here. Hades will send his guards after us.” She tried to look into his eyes, but they searched around her, not making contact.

“What lies in Tartarus is worse than all of those things,” he said. “I can’t risk it.”

“
I’ll
risk it!” She almost yelled. “I absolve you of your responsibility for me.
I
assume the risk.”

“I can’t lose you.” He shook his head.

“You want us to settle? Now?” A shot of fear went through her. It didn’t seem like Ares. She caught her breath before it ran away from her.

“What happened to it being time to dig deep, to gather our courage and do what we came here to do?”

Ares didn’t answer.

“If we stop now, I’ll have to go back to Earth. You’ll have to go back to Olympus. We’ll be apart.” She paused, but he said nothing. “I’d rather try and fail. I can live with that.”

Again there was silence from him.

“I won’t surrender,” she said.

Ares flinched at the implication that he would.

Three guards came into the courtyard. Ares took Ruby’s hand and led her toward the line of souls to be judged. They stood near the crowd. “Don’t look at the guards,” he said in a low voice.

She tried to look anywhere else, but the lion-men were magnets to her eyes.

Ares’s focus was on the bald head of the shade in front of him. “We’ll need Hades’s helmet in Tartarus.”

Ruby’s pulse sped up. No, Ares wouldn’t surrender either.

“The Helm of Darkness. I saw it on the mantle in the throne room. It makes the wearer invisible.”

“How can we get it? Those guards …” she glanced at the golden haired lion-men scanning the crowd and tried to control her rapid breathing.

“I’ll go. You stay here.”

“Wait—,” she started to say, but he was already walking away.

…

Ruby stood at the end of the line of shades and watched the judging. The souls were silent as the kings looked at them before their fates were pronounced. She wondered if there was a telepathic connection between them. The kings somehow saw deep inside each of them, to where their darkest secrets dwelt.

Sometimes the shades that passed her on the way back to the Fields of Asphodel had tears in their eyes.
Tears of relief?
Good and evil can be so hard to dissect. She wondered how she would fare when—no, if—she was ever in this line for real.

She thought she was good. She tried to be. There were times when she had struggled to do the right thing. Would raising money for the American Lung Association in tenth grade cancel out the time she had had a little too much to drink at a party and drove her dad’s truck home anyway? She remembered waking up that next morning horrified by what she had done. She could have killed someone. But she hadn’t, and no one would ever know.

The kings would know.

Every second Ruby waited she expected to hear a struggle from the palace, feel the floor of Hades shake, or see Ares in the custody of the Chimeras.

But it was just a normal day here in the Underworld. The only screams were from the occasional shade being carried off by the black cloud into Tartarus. Otherwise the show moved on with its play of judging, while Ruby waited to find out her own fate. The longer she waited, the worse the pronouncement seemed to be. What would she do if Ares didn’t come back? How long should she wait before she went in after him?

She watched more guards move through the courtyard, scanning the line of souls. Was their time up already? Had the red sands slipped through the hourglass? It was impossible to tell if time were passing at all here. The shades ignored the guards. Ruby tried to do the same.

Most souls were sent back to the Fields of Asphodel. Not evil, not virtuous. Every time a soul was sent to Tartarus, Ruby looked on with new interest. She’d watch the swirling blackness envelop them with keener eyes. She tried to look past the open gate to get a glimpse of what lay beyond. Only dark.

A little girl of about six was being judged when something firm slid down Ruby’s arm. Strong fingers entwined with hers. A warm body leaned in against her own and she could smell Ares’s masculine scent.

Ares spoke into her ear, “Hey, beautiful.”

She blinked as she looked at the empty space next to her.

“Neat trick, huh?” She could hear the smile in his voice and wished she could see it. “You’re invisible now too. I made sure no one was looking when you disappeared.”

She looked down. She could feel her feet standing on the ground but she couldn’t see them.

An Asian man stood in front of them, waiting to be judged. She reached out and touched his back. He turned to look at what had poked him, but his eyes looked through her and then all around. He gave up and turned his attention toward the front of the line.

“Did you see Hades?” she whispered to Ares. “Did you run into any guards?” She was concerned that she couldn’t
see
that he was alright.

“I had to dodge a few guards. Hades doesn’t seem to be around.”

She nodded, but stopped when she remembered that he couldn’t see her. “How do we get in?” she asked.

“We wait near the gate. When it opens next time we’ll go in before it can close again.”

“Is there a guard? Will it, or they, or whatever it is, let us in?”
What kind of creature would guard the gate to Tartarus?

“There’s no guard,” he said. “No one wants in.”

They walked hand in hand, unseen, past the three kings, to the awful black gate. The sculpted hanged-man was twice the size of a person. Metal tendons stretched from his body to his nearly-severed head. She could almost hear the crows cawing as they pecked at his eyes. She felt sick and looked away.

They watched as soul after soul was turned back to the Fields of Asphodel. A nun made it into the Elysian Plains, then more average shades were judged.

“Where’s an evil shade when you need one?” she whispered to Ares.

“One will come.” He was serious.

Ruby looked down the line of souls. She tried to pick out which one it might be. The sixty-something guy wearing a motorcycle jacket? The young skinny kid with oddly few teeth? Or the old lady in a pink wool suit and pearls? If Ruby had learned anything from spending time in the courtyard, it was that you never really could tell.

The kings looked upon a youngish skinhead. Tattoos ran up his neck, and he had several piercings in his face. It didn’t surprise her when they said in turn: “Bigotry.” “Intolerance.” “Hate.” The final pronouncement: “Tartarus.”

Ruby watched as the now familiar swirl of blackness came to claim his soul. The man stood still, without emotion. The usual screams and apologies were held deep within him, if they were there at all.

Ruby had no more time to wonder about him, though, as Ares moved them through the black gate to Tartarus. Panic rose in her chest, her breath stopped in her throat. She squeezed Ares’s arm, still entwined with hers. He squeezed back.

The black cloud, with the man inside, swept past them. A cold wind chilled Ruby through. The gate to Tartarus swung shut behind them with a loud clang.

TWENTY FOUR

Only a little light filtered in from the gate. It found its way in through cracks between the hanged man’s feet and among the feathers of the crows.

The wind carrying the skinhead to his fate in Tartarus echoed down the long corridor in front of them. When the sound faded, the silence left a vacuum that was filled by darkness so complete it seemed like a being of its own.

Ruby didn’t feel the hate and crushing depression she expected from the vision Athena had given her of Tartarus—maybe those feelings were specific to Kronos. She only felt Ares’s arm entwined with hers, warm, solid, and real. He soon pulled away, though. She clutched at his hand, afraid to let him go.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said.

A soft yellow light bloomed around them as he lit the bronze torch. He took off the Helm of Darkness. She let out a sigh of relief. She had known he was there of course, had felt him and heard him, but she was glad to see him again.

“We should drink some water,” she said.

He handed her one of the skins and she drank greedily. She was thirstier than she realized. The water filled her empty stomach, making her remember that she was hungry. She stopped drinking before her thirst was slaked and handed the skin back to Ares. He took a short drink and stuffed the skin down into his pack.

“Now we find her and get out of here as quickly as we can,” he said.

“What do you know about this place?” Ruby asked. “Where do we go? How do we find her?”

“I don’t know much. Tartarus is a place even the gods don’t venture. As far as which way? It seems like down is our only choice.”

She looked around in the dim light. They stood in a narrow passage cut out of the black rock. It was large enough for them to stand upright, but no more. There was only one passage and it led sharply down.
How much further down could there possibly be?

Weakness washed over her. The water had only awakened her hunger. She knew Ares was hungry too, but he would not die from it. Even if he never ate again he would live on and on. At some point her body would begin to fail without food and rest.
What would be the first signs? Lightheadedness? Stumbling over her own feet?

She concentrated on walking, each step moving them closer to whatever lay below. She tried not to think of her gnawing insides but there was little else to occupy her. She could have talked to Ares, distracted them both, but in Tartarus it seemed that silence ruled. She let it.

They continued down for what seemed like hours. Ruby felt a blister forming on her big toe from the constant downward pressure. Her eyes adjusted to the light, or lack of it, but there was nothing to look at but black rock. She was sure they had overstayed their welcome in Hades by now. They would be in danger whether they went up or down.

Ruby heard the faint sound of flowing water. The path leveled out and she could see better. An indistinct glow emanated from the right. She saw a river flowing beside the path. Dancing atop the water were orange and yellow flames.

“What is it?” she whispered.

“The Phlegethon. The River of Fire.”

She turned her attention back to the trail, not wanting to think about why a river would be on fire. She let it flow into the background of her mind.

Instead she thought about when she and Ares would leave this place and go back home.
Home
. Her house on Earth. Ares’s abode on Olympus. It all felt so far away, like a dream.

Ares stopped in front of her.

“What is it?” she asked.

“Time to choose,” he said.

The path forked. One trail was larger and more worn than the other. Ares peered into the dimness down each. “We should take the larger one. We’ll have better luck finding someone to ask about Persephone.”

Ruby nodded but she thought that she’d rather take the path where there was no chance of meeting anyone down here.

They walked a few feet before they heard the first moans. Ares reached for his sword but by the time he had drawn it the passageway was silent again. They stood still with their ears bent toward where the sound had come from. They heard it again: distant, one voice, and then another, then many.

Ruby withdrew her silver bow, now steady in her hand, and nocked an arrow. They continued on, cautiously, their weapons at the ready.

The unrelenting cries came and went like waves in the ocean, steadily getting louder, getting closer.

Ruby scanned the uniformly dark walls in the dim light.

Ares stopped short. He wobbled and stuck his hands out to the sides to steady himself. He had stopped with his toes over the edge of a round hole in the floor. He lowered the torch and they peered inside, into the darkness, into the silence.

Ruby squinted, trying to make out any features. Nothing. Then the familiar cries rose from below. Ares moved the torch lower, the flames dangerously close to his forearm.

Ruby pulled back in surprise and horror. It was a deep pit, an oubliette, full of shades. They were so crowded together they had to stand with their arms packed tightly against one another. The shades stood in knee-deep water, but they were wet from head to toe. The water level began to rise, and the shouts started.