“It’s nothing. I didn’t touch the water.”
Charon cocked an eyebrow but made no reply. His green lights dimmed, and he disappeared as the boat slid away, toward the mortal shore.
Eirikr looked at his torn sleeve. A problem for another day.
The beach was deceptively pleasant to look at, but sunny as it seemed, there was a bone-chilling coldness in the air. He could see a clear path leading up to the castle from the riverside, atop a handsome hill.
Eirikr took stock of the River Styx. He wasn’t about to turn his back on those souls, just in case they could leave the confines of the waves. He didn’t think that possible, but he could still feel their phantom fingers digging into him like claws.
He put a hundred yards between the river and him before he faced his destination.
The castle had seemed close at first, but now Eirikr realized it was farther than expected. And much bigger.
He’d just cleared the sand when the ground beneath his feet started to shake. He tensed, expecting an approaching undead army, or the ground to open up beneath his feet.
Either of those options might have been better than what was coming for him.
The creature was as tall as an average skyscraper, each paw the size of a car. It slobbered, saliva oozing out of its mouths along with an unbearable stench. His fangs were as tall as Eirikr. He could easily have swallowed him whole with any of his three nightmarish heads.
He’d reached the guardian of the underworld. Cerberus.
Eirikr braced, preparing to fight for his life as the hulking creature ran out of the castle, approaching in a few enormous leaps.
The canine must have been two hundred yards away when it started its last jump. Eirikr had a plan of attack, his keen senses analyzing the flow of Cerberus's blood to locate his heart at the core of his chest. But he frowned, watching as energy coated the creature mid-leap, triggering a shift.
Cerberus’s aura shone bright gold as his bulk shrank before Eirikr, growing smaller and smaller. His paws paddled through the air like he was swimming, trying to control his landing. No use. Cerberus crashed against Eirikr’s chest, propelling both of them backward to the sand.
Cerberus was still far bigger than any dog on Earth—almost as tall as Eirikr—and heavy. Very, very heavy.
“Ow.” His ass would never be the same.
On top of him, two of the dog’s heads proceeded to lick Eirikr from head to toes, while the third shook from left to right, a red ball in its muzzle.
“Can you move, please?”
The dog obliged, and reverently dropped the ball at Eirikr’s feet. He barked once imperiously to get his attention.
“You want me to throw the ball?” Eirikr guessed.
All three heads stood to attention, eyes widening, and Cerberus’s bottom hit the floor. His tail wagged happily.
Eirikr wasn’t fond of dogs. He didn’t dislike them as such, but he’d never even thought about having one of his own. They wanted too much attention.
Still, he wasn’t going to argue with a three-hundred pound, seven-foot-tall shepherd.
He took the ball and chucked it as far as his vampire strength could, to the other side of the hill.
Finding the ball after that throw might keep the beast occupied for a while. He started to run to the hill again, shaking his head.
Less than ten seconds later, Cerberus was back, the red ball in the mouth of the middle head now.
The dog flung it at him and sat, one of his heads seeming to smile. The other two were focusing on him, as if they were judging what he was made of. Eirikr bristled. This creature saw with more than eyes. He wondered whether Cerberus suspected he might be a cat person.
Never taking his eyes off the heads, Eirikr bent down, took the ball, and hurled it even further than the first time.
He watched as Cerberus ran after it, shifting back to his full size before retracting to get the ball, and shifting on the way back. No wonder he was so fast.
“That’s cheating,” Eirikr grunted when the left head spit the ball at his feet.
That head smirked knowingly, as if to ask, “Yeah? What are you gonna do about it, cat person?”
Eirikr wasn’t stupid. He knew what was going on here. He could entertain Cerberus by playing with him, or by fighting him to the death. The dog didn’t particularly care which.
Eirikr wasn’t entirely sure he’d win the fight, and if he did, it wouldn’t sit well with him. He might not want a dog of his own, but they were cute enough. Besides, the creature was sentient and not entirely evil. He wouldn’t enjoy hurting it unless he needed to.
He decidedly wouldn’t enjoy serving as his tooth-picking bone.
“Fuck.”
How long was he going to take to get to Hades’s home at this rate?
He threw the ball again and set off, racing toward the castle, clearing a good mile in the few seconds it took for Cerberus to join him.
Cerberus seemed delighted by the game, racing faster and faster to slow Eirikr’s progress as much as he could, but at long last, they reached the gardens.
Eirikr stilled at the gates, uneasy. These gardens didn’t feel right. Oh, they were beautiful, with black and gold flowers in full bloom, their heady scents ensorcelling his senses. Something told him he shouldn’t—couldn’t—cross them.
Cerberus came to him. Instead of dropping the ball, the dog darted off to the side, ignoring the gates. He looked back, waiting for Eirikr, tail held high.
“There’s another entrance?” Eirikr guessed.
Two of the heads barked. The third, still looking at the garden, whined plaintively.
Message received. Eirikr followed his guide, skirting the gates until they reached a…dog flap? The wooden door opened like one, but it was large enough to fit ten warhorses stacked atop each other. Back to its full size, Cerberus walked in, Eirikr following close.
They crossed an empty courtyard and reached the marble steps of the beautiful shadowy keep. Cerberus was right on his heels as they entered the castle.
The place was massive, each hall carved to accommodate an army of creatures like Cerberus.
It was also cold, dark, and empty.
Something came to mind, unbidden. “Winter,” Eirikr said.
The warmth of the beach had taken him aback, but the seasons of Olympus and the underworld were in tune with the Greek seasons, which meant that it was the middle of the winter here.
During the cold seasons, the queen was on Olympus, not in the underworld, and her husband awaited her in despair. At least, as far as the legends went.
Where was the king in winter?
11
PIECE AFTER PIECE
Greer had never been great at following directions, but "follow the river" wasn't that hard. Still, the farther she ran without seeing any destination, the more she wondered whether she'd messed up somehow. The priest had told her that she'd reach Artemis's temple by nightfall. Night was definitely falling, and there was no grove, no crops, not even a little orchard in sight. Just an endless sea of pink fields that seemed to glow as the sky darkened.
She didn't have any choice but to keep going, all her senses alerting her of danger in the distance.
The wind carried a voice that either seemed to laugh or whisper. She did her best to tune it out, not let it get to her. But with every step she took in those unending fields without sensing anything else, the voice seemed to grow stronger.