The Immortal Game (book 1) (26 page)

The flat land was desolate, dry, and cracked. Despite the brutal heat, the ground appeared to be covered in drifts of snow. Beyond the close hills were mountains thousands of feet high. It was as stunning as it was bleak.

“That’s Dante’s View.” Ares pointed to the highest peak among the hills.

Ruby scanned the foot of the rocks and looked for a crevice or opening of some kind. Ares descended. The white earth crunched under their feet as he set them down about twenty yards from the side of the hill. Not snow, she realized: salt.

The flat basin was silent, with no birds or insects to lend their sounds. The brittle salt under their feet gave way in places to a murky brine beneath. Ares’s foot broke through. When he pulled it out Hermes winged sandals were covered in a light brown sludge. The wings gave a little shake like a dog.

They walked across the unstable ground in the overwhelming heat. Walking drained their energy and the hot air felt heavy in Ruby’s throat and lungs. The ground was more solid near the hillside where they continued along the edge, scanning for an opening.

“This must be it.” Ares stopped.

It was a small gap, low to the ground. They would have to crawl. Ruby hoped the ground would hold.

She peered into the cave, into complete blackness. They would not be able to light Eros’s torch until they got to a place where they could stand. If they could stand at all. How far was it to Hades? How long would it take to get there if they had to crawl?

“I’ll go first,” Ares said. “You carry the torch so I can use my hands to feel the way.” He unslung his pack and traded the winged sandals for boots.

The coolness of the cave was a relief after the brutal heat of Death Valley. They had a few moments of light before their bodies blotted out the sun from the entrance. There was a harsh metallic smell. It made Ruby’s stomach clench. The hard earth beneath them made her hands and knees ache.

Soon she sensed space around her. The tunnel felt like it was wider. The smell was no longer as strong. She reached up into the darkness and felt for a ceiling but found none. She pushed up off the ground.

“I can stand,” she said.

“Hand me the torch.” Ares voice was distant.

“Here, can you feel it?” She swung it away from her in a wide arc. He took hold and they pulled each other in toward the center.

She heard him release the door at the base of the torch. Sparks broke into the darkness as he struck the quartz along the iron of the fire starter.

A wavering flame lit up the space as the wick caught. Harsh shadows danced on Ares’s face. It felt better to see him, but the deep cavern beyond was at least three stories high and it felt oppressive to be surrounded by so much dark space.

A passage continued ahead on the far side of the cavern. The path started to pitch downward almost immediately. The grey, water-streaked walls were wide enough for Ruby to put both hands out and barely touch the sides. The briny smell of wet rocks persisted.

To pass the time Ruby would pick an outcropping as a goal, but once achieved there was always another for them to reach. Ares walked in silence before her. The torch made their shadows flicker on the walls.

“How much farther do you think it is?” she asked after a while.

“They say that Hades is as far below the Earth as Olympus is above it,” he said. “But that’s just an old expression. They’re separated by mystical boundaries, not physical ones.”

“What will it be like?”

“It’s not Hell,” he said, guessing at her fears. “All souls, or shades, go to Hades and most are judged there. The righteous are sent to the Elysian Plains. Ordinary shades stay in the Fields of Asphodel. Evil shades are sent to Tartarus, far below Hades.”

The vision of Tartarus Athena had given her months ago in Athenaeum rushed into Ruby’s mind. She felt the memory of the suffocating depression, the gnawing hunger, the desperate thirst. Above all there was the profound loneliness which was quickly followed by a deep desire for revenge. It took her breath away.

She cleared her throat in an attempt to rid the feeling from her chest. “
Most
shades are judged there? Who isn’t judged?”

“The ones that will reincarnate.”

“Reincarnation?” She stopped walking, happy that her favorite idea of the afterlife was true.

“It’s rare. But some shades return to the mortal world.”

“Which shades?” She followed Ares as he continued down the tunnel again. “Who decides?”

“No one decides. At least not directly. Only shades whose lives were stolen from them can choose to return. Only shades who were murdered.”

Ruby started, stunned by the justice of it. “Do they remember their old lives?” She knew some people believed they could.

“No. Shades reincarnate by eating the fruit of the Tree of Life. The Tree of Life resides on an island in the middle of the Lethe, the river of forgetfulness. The river washes their memory away.”

Her heart constricted at the thought of not having her memories anymore. Her home on Earth, her father, Ares!

“Do they get to choose? Do they know that they’ll forget?” She was afraid that this would turn out to be another cruelty of Ares’s world. Maybe Zeus decided, haphazardly, without regard for anyone but himself. Or maybe Hades chose, and if you were pretty it wouldn’t matter what you wanted.

“They know,” he said tenderly, aware of how precious her memories were to her.

The cave grew colder with each step. What was initially a relief from the heat of Death Valley was now a bone-deep chill. Ruby shivered. Her sneakers were still damp from stumbling behind Hermes through the river Oceanus and her feet were numb.

“Are you cold?” Ares asked, as if he felt her shudder.

“Only a little,” she lied.

“Here, take this.” He took off his flannel shirt and slung it over her shoulders, pack and all.

“I’m fine,” she insisted. “You should keep it.”

“I don’t need it.” He smiled at her in the cold dimness, now wearing only a T-shirt and jeans.

Even in this abysmal place he was gorgeous.

…

Ruby’s back ached from the weight of her leather pack as they walked. The water that had been seeping out of the rocks now began to collect in a trench to the right of them. The flow of water increased and babbled melodically as it became a creek.

The path began to level out. The rocks above and around them were shot through with veins of minerals. She thought of the rock collection she had as a kid. “Quartz?” she asked, pointing to a series of clear crystals.

“Diamonds,” Ares corrected.

Her mouth dropped open as her eyes followed the trail of diamonds all the way up the wall and saw it curve into the ceiling. Some would be too big for her to get her arms around. “Hades, the god of death and
wealth
,” she said, remembering reading that somewhere.

“The most valuable things on Earth are found beneath it,” he agreed.

The passage opened up. The creek was now a rushing river. It veered off to the right.

Ares stopped suddenly in front of her and she nearly ran into him.

“What is it?” She craned her neck to look around him.

“Steps,” he said and started down a narrow set of stairs carved into the rock.

The stairs curved into a spiral and went down for several stories. The light of the torch intensified as its flame reflected off the close rocks around them. The sound of rushing water was a constant, though there was no water in the stairwell. At the bottom they passed through a stone archway.

Ruby wondered who had carved it all but her thoughts were pulled away by the massive waterfall that now stood across from them, on the far side of a narrow dirt path.

“The headwater of the Styx,” Ares said without taking his eyes away from the rushing water.

“Welcome to the Underworld.”

TWENTY

The light of Ruby and Ares’s torch was doubled by another one attached to the rocky wall of the Underworld. The Styx ran parallel to the trail and both curved out of sight not far ahead. The water itself had changed, she noticed. It was thicker, more viscous. She shuddered.

Ares snuffed out Eros’s torch and stuck the handle end in his pack. “We’ll have to cross the Styx to get to Hades proper.” He looked down at the dark water. “But not here. We need to find Charon.”

A subtle wave of nausea rolled through her stomach at the thought of actually reaching Hades, but her anxiety was replaced with a shock of fear and alertness when Ares turned to her in a sudden move she didn’t expect, his head cocked to one side, listening.

The first time Ruby heard the groan it seemed like a trick of the rushing water next to them. Probably just her imagination. But when she heard it again, it was too loud to mistake.

Ares moved in front of her, his elbow bent, his hand ready to reach behind him for the hilt of his sword.

Ruby looked in every direction, but between the echoing cavern and the rushing water, the sound was hard to localize. Her instincts told her to run. Ares held his ground. It gave her courage.

She peeked out from a gap between his arm and his torso. All she saw was the thick water of the Styx and the empty path before them. She looked behind them, at the stairs they had descended into the Underworld, but there was nothing that way either.

The sound came again: a cross between a growl and a moan. It didn’t sound like an animal. There was something pitiful, even desperate, in it. Something human.

Ares moved forward. His head was still bent to listen. Ruby followed. Was someone there, beyond the outcropping of rocks where the path bent to the left?

This time the sound was louder, with the resonance of language mixed in. Not words, but drawn out
a
’s and deep
m
’s. She saw Ares’s muscles flex as he quietly drew out his sword and held it in front of him.

She suddenly wondered if they had brought enough weapons. Shouldn’t Ares have more than one sword? What about a gun?

She thought of Artemis’s silver bow and arrows. She imagined reaching behind her, freeing the bow, grabbing an arrow, and firing. She saw it all in her mind in four quick movements.

She drew her right hand back over her head but found nothing but soft cotton cloth against her fingers. Ares’s shirt. He had draped it over her for warmth, but now she was unable to reach the bow in a hurry.

Ares stopped before rounding the outcrop. His stance was wide. He put up one finger, telling her to stay put.

He rounded the corner with the quick and sure reflexes of a fighter. In one motion he was facing whatever was beyond the rock, his sword held high, ready to strike. Ruby couldn’t tell what he saw. She only heard the shriek.

“Ares!” She raced around the corner, but as she moved she realized that it wasn’t Ares who had cried out. It wasn’t a battle cry, or even a cry of pain. It was a cry of surprise and fear.

She stood next to Ares but all she saw was another torch in the wall. She followed his line of sight to the ground. Tucked into the base of an outcropping of rock sat an almost skeletal man in tattered clothes. His hands were crossed in front of his face, warding off Ares’s attack.

Ares lowered the sword and relaxed his position. The man on the ground let his arms fall away to reveal a grimy face and sunken eyes. He smelled as if he hadn’t bathed in a long time.

“Who are you?” Ares demanded with all the authority of a general.

Ruby had already relaxed. This man was not a threat. If anything he needed their help.

“Don’t hurt me,” the man said in a weak voice. He had a thick English accent.

“Are you okay?” Ruby bent down.

Ares pulled her back. “Don’t touch him.”

“He’s hurt, and probably hungry. We should help him.”

Ares didn’t respond to her. Instead he said again, “Who are you? Why are you here?”

“I’m going.” The man scrambled up on skinny legs.

Ares towered over him. “Sit.”

The man sat.

“Who are you?” Ares demanded.

“It does not matter who I was. I am nothing now. Stuck wandering here …” He trailed off as if he didn’t have the energy to continue.

Ares bent and picked the man up by the collar of his tattered clothes. “Who are you?” he screamed in his face.

Ruby flinched.

“John,” the man said, stiff with fear. “John Wright.”

“Why are you here?” Ares snarled in his face.

“Why?” he said, as if he was asking himself the same question. “I have not the fare.”

“The fare?” Ares’s brow knit. Then his face relaxed. He let go his grip on John and looked down the path. “Are we near?”

“No. Not near. We are safe here. Safe for now.” John’s pale blue eyes danced in their sockets, looking all around.

“Near?” Ruby looked around for whatever it was they were talking about.

“Charon. The Crossing,” Ares said to her. He grabbed John by the shirt again. “Show us.”

“I’m not going back there. I have not the fare. There is no food. They ran me out. I will spend my eternity right here.”

“What is he talking about?” Ruby asked.

“He has no money to pay the ferryman. He can’t pass over into Hades.”

“You mean?” She stared at the man in horror. “You mean, he’s dead?”

Ares nodded, but he was looking down the path. “He’s a shade.”

Ruby looked ahead too. All she saw was another bend in the flickering torchlight.

“What happens if he can’t pay?” Ruby glanced to the ragged man, and it was he who answered.

“Nothing. That’s what happens. Nothing. No food on this side. Bullies and thieves everywhere. The Brigand.” His eyes were wide.

Food? She thought of Persephone and the pomegranate seeds she had eaten after Hades had abducted her. The man was so skinny. Could he starve, and die again? “You have to eat when you’re dead?” she asked.

“No, of course not,” Ares answered her.

“But it is good,” John whispered, “tastes so good.” He licked his grimy lips. “And I am hungry.”

She glanced up the path again. “What about the thieves? The Brigand?” she asked.

“Take us to the crossing.” Ares insisted.

“I will not,” said John. Determination was set in his bony jaw.