The woman considered that, then very carefully she spoke. “No one has ever been able to rescue a loved one from the world below.” The woman looked up at the night sky. “Orpheus tried.”
“Tell me,” Jimena urged.
“Beloved Orpheus went to the underworld to rescue his wife after she died from a snakebite. Hades and Persephone agreed to let his wife leave because Orpheus had shown such proof of his love, but they set a condition. He was to return to the world of the sun without looking back at his lovely wife during the entire journey.”
“And?”
“Eager to kiss his wife and afraid that she might not still be there, he looked back, and right before his eyes she died a second time.”
Jimena considered the story. “I can do better. I will.” She turned to the woman, hoping to convince her. “I only need someone to show me the way down.”
The woman nodded sadly.
Thunder quaked through the ground, jolting through her bones. Jimena felt her heart race.
A soft lapping sound made her look across the lake. An old homeless man poled one of the boats toward her.
Jimena followed the woman to the asphalt path. The dogs strained against their leashes.
The woman gave Jimena a sorrowful look. “Every day you’ll pray?”
Jimena nodded.
Finally the boat reached the lakeside and stopped. The old man had fierce eyes that seemed lit with a passionate fire. Filthy clothes hung shapeless on his skeletal frame, and he smelled foul. Jimena wondered how long it had been since he had washed his knotted hair and beard.
“Step into the boat,” the woman said.
Jimena would have refused, but then she remembered the odd way she had seen Cassandra step onto the paddleboat. She raised her foot.
“Stop there,” the man cried.
She paused.
“Tell me why you’ve come,” he ordered. “It breaks the law of the gods for my Stygian craft to carry a living person.”
“Nonsense!” the woman huffed, and handed him a gleaming coin. “I say she goes.”
He took the coin with gnarled, dirt-caked hands and stuffed it into his clothing.
The woman nudged Jimena forward. She stepped onto the boat, almost losing her balance, then dropped into the seat, rocking the boat violently. The man balanced himself on the nose covering the bow until the paddleboat was steady again.
“Quae tibi nocere possunt, etiam te adiuvare possunt,” the woman said.
“What?” Jimena turned back, but the woman and her dogs had already disappeared.
She repeated the words. “Quae tibi nocere possunt, etiam te adiuvare possunt.” She thought a moment. “What can harm you, can also help you.”
The old man grimaced and poled the boat toward a rolling mist that had gathered on the water. Jimena heard cascading water and wondered if the fountain in the middle of the lake could possibly make that much noise.
They entered the mist and suddenly the earth opened before them.
The old man grinned at her. “This is the river over which no soul returns.”
They plummeted down a waterfall into darkness.
CHAPTER TWENTY
THE BOAT SETTLED at the bottom of the waterfall and headed forward into a wide-mouthed cavern. The air became sulfurous and thick and impossible to breathe. The churning waters turned opaque with mud, then still and dead.
Whispering cries surrounded Jimena, and she could feel something in the dark touching her like wispy cobwebs. In the distance dogs were barking constantly. When her eyes adjusted to the dusky light, she realized it was the ghostly forms of shades who were touching her, their sad faces begging her for release.
The man poled the boat toward shore and signaled for her to step off. Her foot slipped as she stepped into gray-green moss. As soon as she was on shore, countless drifting shades surged around her. She supposed she was in Tartarus now.
She recognized Veto’s dim form in the dark. He looked angry. He floated to her. “Why did you come?” His voice was no more than a dry whisper.
“I couldn’t let you stay here,” she answered. Now that she was here, she wondered how she was going to free him.
“Go back,” he ordered. “Save yourself.”
“I won’t go. I’ll stay unless you go with me.”
Then she felt a coldness and saw silken black shadows moving toward her.
“Is that the Atrox?” she asked warily.
“It’s a spirit from the Cincti,” Veto whispered, as the frenzied shadow pushed through the shades, then charged, twisting with tumultuous fury and howling. Jimena struggled to stand against the force, then froze. Terror tried to rise up inside her and push her to move, but a strange torpor had taken hold. It had been a crazy idea for her to come down here. She felt doomed. Why continue to struggle? Give up. Make it easy. Was she thinking those words, or were they being put into her mind? It didn’t matter. She surrendered.
Veto tried to grab her, but his touch was more like a rustling of air. “What are you doing?” His voice had faded to a dry hissing noise.
A sweet lethargy had taken over and she didn’t answer him. She wanted more than anything to sleep. She lay down on the dirt as an abnormally dark shadow eclipsed the others. It seeped into her lungs with complete coldness. She let it in and felt herself drifting in a lazy way.
Veto stripped the moon amulet from around his neck. “Save yourself,” he tried to yell but his words were barely audible. “Leave.”
She shook her head.
He clasped the amulet around her neck.
“It’s only a symbol,” she said in a drowsy kind of way. “Only a symbol of the power inside me.”
“Then feel that power,” Veto urged.
She glanced at him. It was too late.
But as she continued to stare into Veto’s fading eyes something happened. She realized instinctively that the real power had always been inside her. It was something no one could steal from her. She could feel her energy building, pulsing through her like a jaguar in the night. Her gift of premonition and the amulet were only symbols. She understood now that Maggie had wanted her to realize this for herself; she had never stopped being a Daughter of the Moon. If Maggie had simply told her that she had the ability to stand against evil without using violence, or her gift, then she never would have found the self-confidence and faith that she felt rising in her now. She gasped for air, then coughed and spit.
The shadow whipped angrily about her. She stood and concentrated all her power on forcing the phantom creature out of her lungs and away.
“Go,” Veto told her.
“I can’t leave without you,” she answered. “I won’t.”
She pushed his dim form forward. The shadows swirled and gathered force and chased after them.
Above them she heard rumbling. Was that the earth closing over them, or opening to release them from the land of the dead?
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
THE SHADOWS THAT had chased after Jimena and Veto with such fury stopped suddenly. The following silence was more terrifying. It hung heavily around them with the promise of something worse to come.
Jimena glanced up. Overhead she could see the crack in the earth’s crust.
“The rumbling must have been the earth opening,” Veto said.
Jimena felt hope rising, but just as suddenly her optimism vanished. Maybe the Atrox had opened the earth to allow them to escape because there was more to its plan.
They continued up a narrow path through rocky terrain covered with silt and sliding mud. The soft glow of moonlight shining through the rip in the earth illuminated Veto’s ghostly image. He seemed to float more than climb as he led the way up.
Then they heard a crash of thunder.
Jimena looked up. The earth closed over them. All hope was lost. In the pitch-black darkness that followed, Jimena tried to climb forward but she lost her grip and slid down over craggy outcroppings, ripping her palms. Finally, she caught herself on a sla
b of stone. She waited in complete darkness, trying to capture her breath.
“Don’t worry,” Veto whispered beside her.
She hadn’t even been aware that he was with her until he spoke.
“I’ll show you how I’ve been sneaking out of Tartarus to see you.” His words sounded sure.
He started forward again, up through a cramped cavern. It was dark and misty inside. A pale greenish light seemed to emanate from the churning mists. Jimena crawled after him. She kept imagining movement in the darkness around her. Something brushed against her cheek and then was gone.
A terrifying shriek filled the passageway.
She stopped, her heart slamming against her rib cage. The cries sounded like three dogs howling in terrible distress. Their wailings pierced her ears and filled her with an uncanny fear. She had never been afraid of dogs before.
“What is it?” she asked Veto, her voice shaky.
“A dog guards the entrance,” Veto explained.
“That’s only one dog?” she asked and started to turn her head.
“Don’t look back,” he cautioned. “You don’t want to see.”
She didn’t look back. She didn’t want to know what kind of dog could make such a terrifying sound.
A few minutes later, they crawled from the narrow passageway and stood.
“Careful now.” He led her along the thin and crumbling bank of a vast underground river.
Veto’s body seemed more dense now. He took her hand to guide her, but his flesh felt too soft and she had the strange feeling that if she grasped his hand too tightly she would press completely through it.
They edged along the bank. Mud and dirt gave way beneath their footsteps and fell into the water below.
The murmuring flow of the underground river was starting to make Jimena drowsy. She pulled away from Veto, cupped her hands and scooped them into the water.
Veto pulled her up and away. “What are you doing?”
“I was getting sleepy,” Jimena answered. “I thought some water would wake me up.”
“Not here.” Veto nudged her forward. “The souls of the dead drink these waters to forget their lives on earth.”
She stared down at the water, her tongue dry and her desire to lap the waters huge.
A channel of gray light struck her eyes. She squinted. She was sure it wasn’t an illusion, but light from the outside.
“Stay here,” Veto ordered. He pulled himself up. Dirt spattered down on her, then his hand reached for her. She took it. His skin felt warm and solid now.
She scrambled out after him, surprised to find herself standing in the middle of MacArthur Park. Traffic moved slowly down the wet streets surrounding the park, headlights reflecting off the pavement. She gratefully held her face up to the rain and let it wash the dirt from her face.
“See, easy.” Veto smiled triumphantly.
“Too easy.” She shook her head sadly.
His smile fell.
“Our escape was too easy,” she warned him. “It has to be part of some larger plan.” She sensed that the Atrox was still planning to use Veto to destroy her. They stood in the rain, trembling and unsure.
“If it’s still planning to use me,” Veto said, “then let’s show it that it can’t. Risk it all, Jimena. The Atrox hasn’t won yet.”
She clasped her moon amulet, thinking. There had to be a way to free Veto from the Atrox, but how?
“We need to find someplace safe.” She grabbed Veto’s hand and pulled him.
“What?” He followed after her. “Where are we going?”
“We have to hide,” she answered.
They ran across the park, sloshing through rain-soaked grass. She thought of heading to Maggie’s. Maybe she would know how to protect Veto, but that journey required the use of a bus and she felt intuitively that they didn’t have that kind of time.
“There,” she said suddenly and pointed to a church.
Veto rushed ahead of her up the wide steps and reached for the door. When his fingers touched the metal handle, a bluish flash of lightning struck his hand and he tumbled backward.
Jimena understood at once. Veto was denied entrance into the church because he was still animated by the Atrox, the primal source of evil.
“Go inside. Protect yourself,” Veto ordered.
Jimena dropped to the ground beside him. “I can’t abandon you.”
The air around them changed. The rain stopped suddenly, and she knew the Atrox was coming.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
AN OVERWHELMING CALM filled the air. Jimena looked around her, expectant, knowing the Atrox was about to attack.
Then a strange sureness came over her and for the first time since Veto had returned to her, she knew what she had to do. She stood and opened the church door. Holding it propped against her foot, she reached for Veto. “Come on.”
“I can’t go inside.” His eyes looked with longing into the interior of the church.
“Yes, you can. Part of you is still Veto.” She motioned with her head. “Hurry. The Atrox can’t reach you there.”
He stood up tentatively as if a great weight pressed down on him. He bit his full lips in a grimace when he tried to take a step forward.
“Hurry!” She could feel an unnatural storm building around them.
Without warning a gust of wind ripped the door from her hands and screeched around her in wild triumph. The door banged closed and she staggered backward.
Veto’s face was a mask of fear.
She struggled against the wind. This time it took all of her strength to move the heavy wooden door.
“Go inside!” she yelled, but she doubted Veto could hear her. His eyes seemed touched with something unfamiliar.
Wind hammered down on her in cold gusts. She could feel her strength ebbing. She felt afraid, not for herself, but for Veto. A huge force seemed to be controlling him now. He started to walk down the wide steps that led up to the church, his eyes staring back at her with pure hate.
She was filled with utter and complete despair. She couldn’t bear to lose Veto this way.
“No fear,” she whispered. The wind ripped the words from her lips but not the power she could feel building inside her.
She battled against the wind to open the door, using her body as a wedge to force the door against the building. When she had it propped open, she charged down the steps to Veto, grabbed his hand and propelled him inside.
A tortured scream left his body as he stumbled over the threshold.
The wind slammed the door behind them.
Immediately Veto began to weaken and fade, but he didn’t seem afraid any longer. He looked peaceful and happy.
She helped him sit on a back pew.
“I promised you nothing was ever going to separate us,” Veto said softly, his words only whispers. “Not even death. I tried, Jimena.”
“I know.” She knew that she was watching him die a second time.
“I’m fading—I can feel it,” he explained.
“It’s going to be okay.” She touched him reassuringly and wondered what emotions he must be feeling.
“I’m scared,” he started again in a low voice. “It’s from loving you so much and not wanting to lose you.”
“Don’t be afraid, Veto.” she cradled him in her arms. “You won’t be alone. Part of me is going with you. That’s how it feels anyway. Part of me will always belong to you.”
He smiled but it seemed to take all of his strength. “Go light a candle for me. Pray to La Morena to beg God to take back his fallen angel.”
Afraid that he might slip away before she had one last look at him, she hesitated, then bent down to kiss his cheek. It was like kissing air. His hand reached for hers but was unable to clasp it.
“I’ll light the candle.” She started to go to the sanctuary, but Veto stopped her.
“Go with that punk gabacho,” Veto said. “He’ll love you fine.”
Unable to speak, she nodded, but she d
idn’t think she could ever love someone again.
She stepped slowly to the sanctuary, took a wooden match from a tin container and lit a small white candle. The flame flared as she felt, more than heard, Veto speak to her. “I’ll always be with you.”
She was afraid to turn back and see what she knew was true. When she finally did, he was gone. She walked to the back of the church and sat on the pew, still warm from Veto’s body.
When the flood of tears finally subsided, she remembered what the woman in the park had told her. “Quae tibi nocere possunt, etiam te adiuvare possunt.” She thought a moment. “What can harm you, can also help you.” And she made a decision.
She wiped her face on her sleeves, then stood to leave, but stopped abruptly. The rain beating against the stained-glass windows didn’t sound like the workings of a normal storm. She hadn’t noticed the way the wind screeched around the roof while she was crying, but now she did. The storm seemed malevolent and alive and waiting for her.
She decided to spend what remained of the night in the church. She stretched out on a pew, ignoring the angry sounds of thunder that seemed to shake the very foundation of the small church, and soon fell asleep.
When she woke up, soft gray light filled the sanctuary and rain was gently tapping against the stained-glass windows.
She stepped outside. Soft rain sprinkled her face. She started walking back to her grandmother’s apartment. She had only gone a little way when she saw Serena running toward her, a red umbrella sheltering her from the rain.
Serena ran up to her and held the umbrella protectively over Jimena. “I’ve been waiting at your apartment all night. I’d just about given up hope. Collin came home—”
“I told him.”
“I know. I was so worried about you. I knew you were going to try to go down to Tartarus to rescue Veto.”
“I did.”
“I would have gone with you,” Serena told her.
“Thanks,” Jimena answered. “But it was something I needed to do alone.”
“Come on.” Serena started walking quickly toward the bus stop. “Catty and Vanessa have been looking for you, too. We’re meeting back at my house.”