Chapter 4
Andromeda was racing on a horse down a path that cut between two steep cliffs, the sun beating down on her – harsh, unrelenting. Beads of sweat gathered on her brow as she hunkered low, digging her knees in, holding on tight. Fay flew above, watching it all.
The path sloped sharply again, then widened again out onto a vast rocky landscape and smooth outcrops. She flicked the reins with a cry, speeding the dark steed down across a stretch of flat rock – leaping down a short outcrop at the end, landing with a slight wobble and trot before shooting off. A hyena resting beneath the shade of a lone tree lifted its head, snarled – with a curse Andromeda tugged on the reins, banking sharply, and dug in, urging on faster. She tossed a searching look over her shoulder. The hyena wasn’t chasing.
Looking ahead she refocused, racing on towards a collection of low lying hills where a temple jutted out of the side. Its smooth walls gleamed white against the burnished gold rock, the entrance sitting at a path carved into the side of the cliff, snaking upwards. At the base of it she slowed the horse and walked up, dismounting at the top. As she grasped the reins the door cracked open, a veiled face peering out. A girl, barely a woman, with dark almond eyes that regarded Andromeda cautiously.
“Yes?”
“Andromeda.”
The girl’s eyes widened for a second before relaxing, calmed as she stepped aside, nodding, and holding open the door. “Amon awaits inside.”
Andromeda pushed her own hood down, her braided curls tumbling down her back, and she lifted her cloak free. She draped it over her arm and stepped inside, peering into the temple with curious eyes. It seemed like she was seeing it all for the first time, her gaze lingering briefly, thoughtfully, on every feature; the lower court yard surrounded by a myriad of doorways, one of which she spied led to a small oasis. Even to the steps that led up to a balcony overlooking the courtyard, more doors there, too. She was halfway across when she stopped, turning back to see the priestess lead her horse in; on seeing this she turned back and continued her advance into the temple.
There was something older about her. She seemed in her mid-twenties. Her limbs were lean, muscled, her skin darkened by the sun and her hair was longer, bound in thick braids down her back. A sheath hung off a belt from her back, no sword. It was a far cry from the giddy girl that had been madly in love with Abe, whom fretted about her future, fought her destiny with every breath she had. The new Andromeda seemed resolved, fastidious and cunning.
It was, frankly, a little terrifying – awe inspiring, too. She looked like a Queen.
“Andromeda?” A man called from the balcony.
She lifted her gaze, held her hand to her brow. A small split her mouth, making her seem less harsh, more human somehow. “Amon!”
He was off, jogging down the steps, then across to her. Like her, he seemed older, just a few years. His hair was longer, his skin darker. There was also a feint scar on his collar bone, dipping below the collar of his tunic. Yet, when he smiled, it brightened him, made him seem excitable, warm.
“I came as soon as I got word. I admit, it took me time to realise what you meant,” she said, her eyes never falling from him. They seemed locked, enchanted even.
He was staring too, still smiling. “I couldn’t be frank. It wasn’t worth the risk – d-do you want to see it? Or did you race over here just to see me?”
Her smile fell as she looked away, her cheeks flushed. “Just show me the damn key.”
With a laugh, he led her up the stairs and into one of the nearby rooms. It was small, furnished with a bed pressed into the corner, a large table dominating the centre and, on it, a plethora of scrolls and maps. Sunlight spilt it from a small window above the bed, the burnished landscape stretching out beyond. He strode in first, at ease in the room, leaving Andromeda at the threshold, studying. He went straight for a small box beneath the bed and fished out a tiny satchel. As he turned she crossed the space, lingering at the table as he pulled on the string and dropped the key onto the table. It was nothing special, just a black key.
Andromeda picked it up with reverence, eyeing it as if it might solve all her problems. “How did you even find it?”
“Remember how we discovered that child of Hades, Melisandre? I chased her up and kept a close eye on her. Just as I thought to depart she made contact with Thanatos. I thought myself mad when I saw him, then I knew it to be true. As it turned out she was in quite the predicament with him, as he desired her as a lover.”
“Then why not compel her? It is within his power,” said Andromeda. “Or take what he desires?”
Amon shook his head. “He can but won’t. She informs me he desires her to choose him. Unfortunately, her heart belongs to another – a man who apparently grows ill regularly. I think she fears Thanatos will learn of it and use it against her. So, I said if she helped us we could protect him.”
Surprise flashed through Andromeda. She arched an eyebrow, as though caught unaware of such an act.
“And how do you propose we do that? I am the enemy of the Gods themselves, and you have several enemies from amongst their ranks after you helped me steal precious items and weapons. We attract danger, so would it not be sound to ensure him away from us?” Andromeda argued, probing into Amon’s rationale.
Amon spread his arms wide. “This temple of Eris, like so many temples, is a blind spot – here, he cannot be scene and Thanatos cannot enter. As well, I would like to try my hand in healing.”
This elicited only a frown from Andromeda, disapproving. Was she worried that his attention would be split, that the mission might be at risk? What was her end goal to have so carelessly dismiss a life?
Andromeda set the key back down and walked to the window, peering out. Demons danced in her eyes. From behind her Amon watched, his features schooled, calmed, unreadable.
“I confess I have an ulterior motive for desiring to strengthen my healing,” he said.
She turned slowly, met his gaze. “Oh?”
“Neither of us have been skilled in healing. If I am and you are injured I can help you,” he confessed quietly, his smouldering gaze intensely fixed.
Rather than flattered she seemed disturbed, uneasy. She spun back to the window, arms folded. For a moment she closed her eyes, drew a deep breath, then exhaled, opening them slowly. Worry hung in her eyes.
“There will come a day when I must die – for all I have planned it has to happen.” She half-turned back to him. “Upon that day you can’t save me.”
The confession shocked Amon. He took a step forward, went to take more but she held up a hand, stopping him. As it dawned she had kept secrets from him, that she was only delivering a sliver of it in order to manipulate him, to stay his hand, he couldn’t hold her gaze.
“You have seen your death.”
“No, I have not.”
His eyes flickered back, searching. “What?”
“I must die. Only, they will not send me to the Underworld for my afterlife – it is too risky. Tartarus is the only place for one such as I. Only when that happens can the next phase of my plan occur. For now, however, I still require a lightning bolt from Zeus and the sword of Hades – the former I need only possess for a moment. The key is for the latter.”
“The key can only access one of the doors that lead out of the Underworld. You still have to die – well, to dance that edge. It is where I intend to have my hand.”
She rubbed the bridge of her nose. “I have to die properly to enter the place. If I hold the key I should retain much of my strength and my memories – it is, after all, of this world and of that one. It will be my anchor. When I am there I will try my hand to find the palace and steal the sword.”
“You know little of that place – how do you propose to navigate? To find your way?”
In a strange show of solemnity Andromeda reached up and touched an amulet around her neck, toying with it absently. Her gaze grew unfocused.
“Let us say I have someone there who will be my guide. She awaits me, even now.”
Fay woke with her limbs feeling like lead and her mind thick with fog. She rolled onto her side, squinting at the room. The squad was rising slowly, soft yawns whispering through the room. A couple were already dressed, finishing up by doing their boots. Others were half-clothed, unashamedly, murmuring quiet comments back and forth.
With a groan she climbed out of bed and made it. She followed Nadia into an adjoining room with a fresh change of clothes, the set for training as told by Nadia. There were stalls that had been erected and the ‘showers’ consisted of barrels of water with ladles for washing. Half-asleep, she stripped, showered in the cold water and changed. Nadia wordlessly offered a brush, which Fay gratefully accepted and dragged it through her hair. When she handed it back she set about braiding it, keeping it out of her face.
By the time she returned the rest of the squad was dressed and sitting about, awaiting the arrival of Remus. Fay glanced at Nadia, thinking about again how he might be Nadia’s father. When the man in question arrived, the squad shot to their feet, mustering at the edge of their beds, standing at attention. Fay mirrored their movements, resisting the urge to look at Remus, to try and see the connection between Nadia and him. If there was any at all.
Remus strode down the centre of the tent, eyeing each squad member carefully, inspecting their uniforms. He got to Fay, lingered a fraction longer but, when seeing nothing amiss, he moved on, dismissively. It seemed she had passed the first test of the day, though she knew more were to come.
“Fall in outside. We’re off to train in the Stygian fields.”
A chorused ‘yes sir’ rang through the room as everyone filtered out of the room, falling inside in formation. Nadia tugged Fay’s hand, moved her into position. Before she knew what was happening Remus barked at the squad and they were, running. It took a little bit but she fell into stride with them, matching their strides beat for beat until the squad moved as one.
They jogged through the camp, drawing gazes wherever they went. Fay even spied Nakori watching her from outside her tent, sitting on a box, sharpening a sword. She almost lost step in the hound’s gaze. Turning her head she refocused, let the smell of the camp – that smoky, acrid stench that rolled through – and the sound – the distant clang of swords, of murmured voices, a soft moaning wind – roll through her. In a land of death there was life in that camp, wild and chaotic, inherently violent and wired. The hounds weren’t dead, yet nor did they see themselves as living – they were something else entirely, and Fay still felt apart from them, at odds with their submission in the bond with Hades. Nadia told her to keep quiet about it, as if it was dangerous, rebellious – it was, of course, but that didn’t extinguish the fire in her heart, nor quiet her when someone Commanded her. It felt like someone else was inside of her screaming don’t obey. She was at war with her own mind.
Slowly, like a trickle of water, the camp thinned, giving way to a vast field stretching out to the bank of the River Styx. Its ancient power sang out, alluring, consuming. The squad advanced halfway to the bank then came to a stop on Remus’s bellowing voice, dispersing into a loose semi-circle around him.
“As Hellhounds it is our connection to death, to the Underworld, that defines us, sets us from werewolves and other creatures. We perceive death differently and it is us who hunt errant souls, whether it is here or on earth. It is our absolute loyalty, our power, to keep the balance of our land. For this reason, we have been called to undertake the mission to Tartarus, to determine how to quell it and ensure the order of the Underworld. In two weeks the trials will commence for the competing squads and we will achieve victory.”
“That may have been possible before but now?” Diana sneered.
Nadia snorted. “She beat you, didn’t she?”
“A chance of luck. She may have power but she’s wild, untrained. How are we to sharpen her to our level in time for the trials?” Diana asked Remus.
Remus looked from Diana to Fay, lingering briefly on Nadia. It was then Fay saw that they had the same eyes and the same shaped mouth, fastened into a similar steely expression when serious. He exhaled briefly and seemed to dismiss Diana’s inquiry entirely.
“Today’s will be team building – as a team you will enter the Wilds beyond here and capture a demon. Capture, not kill. The stronger the demon the better. We will face many of them Tartarus, so we must be able to take them down, interrogate if necessary. Understood?”
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