“I love you, too,” I murmured. “And I want to forgive you. I’m trying.”
He dropped his head. “That’s all I can ask, I suppose.”
I gazed around the room. “Where are Ortrera and her warriors?”
Ares motioned toward an adjoining room. “In there. Come help me?”
We flew into the next room and found my sister and her small army waiting. They were no worse for the wear than the others, but they tried hard to conceal their pain. It was simply in their nature. I grimaced for her, however, when Ortrera took a step and her ankle cracked. It sounded as if it had been broken. I handed her the helm.
“Here. Put this on. It will allow your goddess abilities to return while you wear it- and your foot can heal so that you can walk. You should all take turns wearing it- but Aphrodite gets it next.”
Everyone nodded their agreement.
“We must hurry,” I told them as I glanced nervously over my shoulder. “Hades is planning on moving you to the Dungeon of the Damned, although I don’t know when. It could be any time.”
Ortrera healed in record time and was able to walk again within a few minutes. We crept down the corridor in search of the forging fires that Persephone had spoke of. And it didn’t take long to find them.
They were enormous and took up one entire massive room. Workers shoveled iron into the fire to heat it and then laid the pieces on a huge stone slab to form them into various shapes with hammers. The sound was deafening.
There was an entire room of workers and we had only one helmet. We looked at each other and at the same time, Ortrera and I said, “Ares.”
He nodded and took the helm from her, putting it on and instantly was rendered invisible. We scarcely had time to think before the entire room of workers were lying dead on the floor and Ares was once again standing in front of us.
“Let’s go, then,” he said nonchalantly as he motioned us toward the hall leading behind the fires. It led to another set of heavy doors, which I unlocked with the brass key that Persephone had given me.
No one questioned why I had it or how I had come to get it. Instead, the entire group remained silent as we raced through the passage that would lead us to freedom.
Chapter Eight
As soon as we burst from the darkened corridor to the outside, I drew in a deep breath and looked around. Almost instantly, a cloud of red butterflies descended upon us.
“Thanks, Ahmose,” I whispered. I knew that he was somehow watching us and helping us in what limited ways that he could.
“Where should we go?” Aphrodite asked. Ares was carrying her, although since she was wearing the helm, she was invisible.
I looked ahead of us and saw the thousands of heads of the undead army guarding the palace.
“Not that way,” I muttered quickly. We spun around and circled around the palace and continued on behind it.
“We cannot stop right now,” Ares stated calmly. “I wish that we could stop long enough to allow everyone to heal, but we cannot. Hades will deploy an army to find us as soon as he discovers that we are gone.”
I nodded in agreement. “He will stop at nothing to find us. I know that much to be true.”
We walked quickly forward. The terrain was easy, flat plains and low hills. The ground was soft under our feet.
“I should tell you…” I began and glanced around at the others. They stopped and waited for me to finish speaking. “I should tell you what I know.”
Ares nodded. “Then speak, daughter. Although know this, when we have a moment, you and I are going to have a discussion.”
I ignored the last part of his statement and continued. “I think that Raquel is in Tartara. I saw a vision- she was with Hecate’s daughter, Empusa. It looks as though Empusa is helping her, but I can’t be sure. They were surrounded by shadows and darkness… which leads me to believe that they are in Tartara.”
Cadmus clenched his jaw. “Then we shall go, as well.”
He reached out and grabbed my hand. I enjoyed the warmth of his strong fingers wrapped around my own for just a minute before I pulled away. I so wanted everything to go back to the way it was. But I couldn’t forget the lies. It prevented me from forgiving him. Even though I wanted to.
He sighed, but remained at my side, leaning in to whisper in my ear.
“I’ll wait for you, my love. Forever, if I have to.”
I nodded, my eyes filling with tears. He gazed at me, his expression sad. He reached out and wiped my tears away.
“Don’t cry, Harmonia. Everything will be alright.”
“Will it?” I asked, my voice small and shaking. I wasn’t so sure.
“Of course it will,” Ares interrupted. “We’ll talk more of it later.”
I had to smile, just a little. Ares was so arrogant, which was one of the traits that I loved about him. Did he truly think that everything would be fine simply because he decreed it so?
“So, we go to Tartara,” Aphrodite said. “We should move. I feel much better now. Someone else can wear the helm.” She passed it to Cadmus. He tried to give it to one of Ortrera’s warriors, but true to her nature, she insisted that he take it first.
“I’m fine,” the muscled Amazon insisted. “You should go first.” Her legs shook with exhaustion and pain, so it was evident that she was not ‘fine’, but she would never admit that.
Cadmus tried arguing with her for a few minutes before he realized that it was useless and he plunked the helm onto his head in resignation. As I looked at his chiseled face staring from under the visor, I had visions of watching him spar and fight in Egypt so long ago. My husband had always been a warrior.
It was strange. I was the goddess of peace, yet the two men I loved more than anyone in the world, my husband and my father, were warriors. And that was a fact that would come in handy in Tartara, I was certain.
I had never been there, but I had heard stories. Tartara was the place where the damned were sent, the heinous souls. It was guarded by the Eryines and contained the Dungeon of the Damned, where the most hideous of prisoners were punished for all of eternity. It was said to be dark and desolate and it killed me to think that my daughter might be there.
“We need to go,” I breathed, quickly turning and walking quickly toward the horizon.
“How do you know that you’re going the right way?” Aphrodite called. I pointed upward at the cloud of butterflies that was lingering over my head directly in front of me.
“I think Ahmose is leading the way,” I answered. If someone had told me even last week that I would be following a swarm of butterflies to the gates of hell, I would have thought they were crazy. But here I was.
Once again, we walked for hours. As we hiked onward, we felt fairly certain that we were going the right way because the sky darkened up as we continued.
The Amazons rotated the helm throughout their numbers until everyone had healed up and then Aphrodite and I passed it back and forth as our strength waned. I actually started to wonder if this was the very reason why Rhadamanthus had told us to acquire it in the first place. He had probably known, just as Ahmose had, what effects the Underworld would have on the two of us.
My legs were feeling overwhelmingly weary when I noticed a glow to the sky in the horizon, right where the sky met the land. As we continued on and drew closer, I realized that it was fire, a long line of it. I studied it curiously, but couldn’t make heads or tails of it until we were upon it. And then I realized what it was.
It was the river Phlegethon… or otherwise known as the River of Fire.
I glanced down both lengths of it and it seemed to stretch on forever. It was wide, far too wide to leap across, even wearing the helm. The orange flames lapped up from the surface, grabbing at the fresh air that fed it. I could feel the heat from the fire from here and I couldn’t see any way that we would be able to get through the flames to Tartara’s gates.
My shoulders slumped and I sat abruptly on the ground, staring at the flames in desolat
ion. I was so, so tired. Too tired to even begin to think of a good plan. Before I had even realized it, Cadmus sat next to me and pulled me into his lap. I began to squirm away, but he held me fast.
“Don’t,” he suggested. “Just let me hold you. It doesn’t mean that you’ve forgiven me. It only means that you’re still my wife and you’re allowing me to comfort you.”
He was right and I knew it. No matter what, no matter how hurt I was, he was my husband and I loved him more than anything. I leaned my head against his strong chest. He smelled like a man, like sweat and his familiar outdoorsy scent. I inhaled it as I closed my eyes. He stroked my back and allowed me to sit in silence for a few minutes. I heard the others discussing the river and how to cross it, but I didn’t even open my eyes.
Instead, I silently cried. The stress, the drama and the emotion from the past couple of days welled up in me and I couldn’t control it. The tears began flowing. As they did, my wrist started throbbing. The outline of my birthmark began glowing and I startled, gripping it, although it didn’t hurt.
“What is happening?” I murmured through my tears. Cadmus snatched up my wrist and examined it, but before he could say anything, Ortrera shouted.
“Look!”
I followed her finger and gasped as the Phoenix descended upon us. It was massive and majestic as it swooped low over the river. The flames from the river leapt up and bled into the flames of the Phoenix. Its eyes were glowing and blue and they were fixated on me. I suddenly knew that I had somehow called it.
It landed a short distance away from us and stood quietly, its large wings quivering every so often. It was bigger than I remembered, as large as a small horse. Just as I remembered, it was made from flame, with brilliant blue eyes. As it burned, it studied me and I felt compelled to get up and walk toward it.
I stood in front of it and it dipped low, as if bowing to me. I shook my head.
“You don’t need to bow to me,” I murmured.
It remained in position and I looked uncertainly at the others.
“What do you think it wants?” I could feel the fire from its wings heating my cheeks and Cadmus grasped my hand.
“I think it wants you to climb onto its back,” he said quietly.
“But I’ll get burned,” I protested, staring once again at the bird. One azure eye looked up at me. It did certainly seem like it wanted me to crawl onto its back. I took a shaky step.
“Remember the pit on Calypso’s island?” my mother questioned me. “After the Phoenix appeared and you stepped into the fire, you didn’t get burned.”
The phoenix bowed even lower.
I caught a shaky breath and reached out to grip its neck. His fire did not burn me. Cadmus grabbed my waist and thrust me up onto its back and then quickly swung up behind me. I looked to him in alarm.
“As If I’d let you go alone,” he admonished, raising his dark eyebrow. The light from the phoenix reflected off of his shiny, dark hair making it almost seem as if he was glowing.
“But you didn’t know… you could’ve been burned. You didn’t know if I was the only one immune or not…”
“It was of no matter,” he replied firmly. “I would never let you go alone.”
My chest filled with warmth. He was so brave and strong. And he loved me so much. I laid my hand on his sculpted thigh and twisted around to kiss his cheek.
I nodded silently, not trusting my voice as the Phoenix stood and then took off into the night. Cadmus held fast to me and I gripped the Phoenix’ neck as we flew a wide arc above the river. Flames billowed