Home > Thanatos (Guardians of Hades #8)(4)

Thanatos (Guardians of Hades #8)(4)
Author: Felicity Heaton

That power had strengthened his feeling that he was on the right track at last. It blanketed the entire realm, hindering him by not only stopping him from teleporting in and out but by dampening his senses too. He could feel things if he focused, but it was as if there was some kind of interference.

It made him feel that Calindria was here and the reason he couldn’t feel her was because of that interference. This realm shielded her somehow, making it impossible for him to sense her.

A power that didn’t seem natural to him.

Someone had taken great pains to ensure no one found Calindria. The one who had taken her or one among the enemy he had fought alongside the sons of Hades four years ago? That enemy had contained not only those of the daemon breeds, but demigods, gods and goddesses too.

A rebellion Hades’s sons had crushed, restoring peace in the Underworld.

Thanatos meandered around sharp spikes of black rock that jutted from the floor, his gaze scanning the route ahead of him, looking for an exit. Water dripped somewhere, the sound echoing around the cavern, punctuating his thoughts. Whoever had killed Calindria and had taken her soul had hidden it well, the method they had used to conceal it carrying on after their death.

If they were dead.

When Thanatos had raised that thought with Hades, his god-king had grown dark and had immediately left the palace, teleporting to Tartarus where he was holding Eris, Thanatos’s younger sister.

And the ringleader of the enemy that had risen up against Hades and attempted to bring about not only his downfall but that of the Underworld and mortal realm too.

Disgust rolled through Thanatos, as strongly as it had the night he had realised she had turned against their god-king, together with another two of his sisters and his youngest brother. His mother, Nyx, was still furious about what had happened, wanted blood and regularly visited Eris in Tartarus to sneer at her and threaten her.

So far, neither Nyx nor Hades had managed to convince Eris to tell them something other than the same denial she spewed whenever they tortured her. She just kept swearing she knew nothing about Calindria and what had happened to her.

Thanatos wasn’t buying it.

He spied three exits in total and picked the largest of the tunnels, the one set into the cragged wall of the cavern dangerously close to a pool of water. He lowered his hand to the hilt of his sword where it hung from his waist, attached to his thick leather trousers, and warily stalked towards the tunnel, keeping an eye on the water.

Wishing he had worn more of his obsidian armour than just the heavy vambraces that protected his forearms.

He had forgone the armour that he normally wore on his lower half. The thick plates offered protection but slowed him down and made it more difficult to move through the narrow tunnels or clamber into holes. He had decided to leave them in his castle for this trip when he had discovered the warren of tunnels in the heart of this vast mountain range were narrower than those in the last set of peaks that rose high into the smoky air of this realm.

Something moved in the water and his fingers tensed around the grip of his sword, ready to draw and swing it in the space of a heartbeat if necessary. Great serpents lived in the pools in many of the caverns, waiting for a creature to approach and drink the life-giving water. One had nearly taken his head off. Since then, he had avoided all the pools.

Thanatos eased around this one, facing it at all times, and was quick to duck into the tunnel. It was narrower than it had looked from a distance, but still large enough to accommodate him and his wings. He shook them out and furled them again, tried to ignore the itch to stretch them and fly. The next time he found a cavern that was large enough, and was lacking occupants, he would do a few laps around it to stretch his wings.

Ahead of him, in the gloom, creatures skittered and scurried away from him. He eased his head left and lowered his wings, edging around a dip in the ceiling. He was beginning to miss the world outside this mountain, even though it was as grim out there as it was in here. Perhaps more so.

The valleys of these mountains were great black lands, some riddled with crevasses cut by waterfalls that thundered into them, and others filled with dead-looking trees, and then there was his personal favourite.

A valley that had been infested with spires of jagged black rock with holes in it. The things that lived within the three-, four-, even five-hundred-foot-tall towers had not liked him being in their territory. Like the gargoyles, they had chased him from the valley, the veins of crimson that formed patterns on their black carapaces glowing like lava as they had scuttled after him on four bony legs, snapping at him with their pincers.

Thanatos was beginning to get the impression everything in this realm hated him.

Perhaps if he didn’t find Calindria, he would kill everything in it. Eradicate all life to make it easier for Hades’s legions to tame these wild lands steeped in ancient powers and bring them under his god-king’s control. He drifted in that pleasing imagery for a while, mentally getting revenge on the foul creatures who had tried to maim and murder him on far too many occasions.

Thanatos stilled as awareness rolled down his spine, making his wings quiver. Something was watching him. He’d had the same feeling several times now during his travels and was beginning to get the impression that someone and not something was following him.

The Messenger.

Thanatos had encountered the black-haired male in another realm, one close to this one, and had thought Hades had sent his servant to relay something to him. Only he had startled the male when he had questioned him, asking what he was doing in an uninhabited realm if he wasn’t there to deliver a message from Hades.

The Messenger’s mismatched eyes—one green and one blue—had widened and then narrowed, had shone with fire when he had delivered a message of his own.

He didn’t serve Hades.

When Thanatos had brought up the male in his report to Hades, two of his god-king’s sons, Marek and Esher, had exchanged a look. Hades had noticed it and demanded answers.

Apparently, they believed they had met the same Messenger in the mortal realm.

There, the male had told them he was looking for Calindria.

“If I cross paths with him again, perhaps I will ask him to assist me,” Thanatos grumbled as he eased around another jagged spike of rock that blocked his path. “He can run the tunnels like the hound he is.”

Thanatos had never liked Messengers. The clones were creepy with the way they would silently appear close to him, and they had no boundaries, were always teleporting into his castle without invitation, bypassing all his wards. Hades had given them too many powers when he had created them.

Something which had proven dangerous during the rebellion, when several Messengers had sided with the enemy and revealed something that had unsettled even Hades.

Some of them had developed the ability to feel emotion.

Thanatos had witnessed it for himself in the Messenger he had encountered, the one who was looking for Calindria. The male hid it well, but Thanatos had seen the glimmer of emotions in his eyes when he had questioned him, had noticed it in the slight twist of his lips or twitch of his eyebrows.

Hadn’t been able to miss it when the male had snarled at him that he didn’t serve Hades.

Hades was going to have to deal with his creations. Servants with emotions and so much power were dangerous. At the very least, his god-king needed to cull those who exhibited feelings and ensure future Messengers were subjected to stringent tests and given less power.

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