Dicing with Death (5 page)

Mopsus had disappeared.

Max dug his heels against the pegasus's sides. ‘Whoa!' he shouted as the pegasus broke into a gallop from a standstill and headed straight for the opposite wall. The huge horse skidded to a halt, and Max grabbed a handful of mane to stop himself being catapulted over the creature's head. He felt a surge of temper.

‘Look here, horsey,' he hissed in the pegasus's ear. ‘As much as I hate to admit this, you're the only one that can get us out of here, but that's only going to happen if you engage your brain. Now why don't you try again, only this time – ' He nudged the creature's sides again. ‘ – go
up
!'

The pegasus flattened its ears, and for a moment Max thought it was going to refuse. He felt a gust of Cerberus's stinking hot breath on his neck and screwed his eyes shut. A moment later, a strong draught fanned away the stench. The
winged horse rose into the air, and Max resisted the natural urge to look down as a triple howl of rage sounded beneath him.

‘Whoop, whoop,' he yelled. He threw his arms around the pegasus's warm neck and clung on while they continued to defy gravity.

Once they had left the arena behind, Max twitched the robes off the great beast's eyes. He needn't have bothered, since a moment later they flew into darkness. All Max could do was hold on and hope for the best, until finally a huge shape appeared in the darkness front of them. It was Death's fortress.

The pegasus clattered onto a stone balcony and nosed open some double doors that led into the main hall.

Mopsus stood with his back to the fire that blazed in the hearth, warming his buttocks. His mouth dropped open at the sight of Max and the pegasus.

Max slid off the animal's back and collapsed on the ground, gasping for breath.

‘Oh good.' Death looked up from where he was seated at the table. ‘You've got the robes – although I had expected you to be wearing them.'

Max forced himself into a sitting position just in time for the pegasus to whip its tail against his
cheek. Giving a low whinny, it trotted up to Mopsus, who fed it some of Liah's tooth-destroying bread. ‘How are you, Buttercup?' he said over the sound of crunching.

‘Buttercup?' Max couldn't imagine a less appropriate name. ‘Killer, more like. And he's not the only one. Why did you leave me in the arena with that monster? I could have been turned to stone!'

Death slowly swivelled to face Mopsus. ‘What is the boy talking about?'

‘Erm, nothing really. Just a small test I devised to ensure that he's up to the task ahead of him.' Before Max could process the idea of another task, Mopsus turned to him and said sniffily, ‘If you'd put on the robes before summoning Cuppy, you wouldn't have had a problem. As Death's…
assistant
,' he almost spat the word, ‘any creature of the Underworld is yours to command when you're wearing them.'

‘I didn't summon him,' Max objected, before remembering he had blown the silver whistle. ‘Is there any other vital information you've chosen not to share with me?' He narrowed his eyes at Mopsus and flipped the baseball cap on to his head. ‘What about this, for instance?'

Wordlessly Mopsus sloped across the room, collected a pewter plate from the table and held it up in front of Max.

Staring into the polished metal, Max almost passed out when nothing stared back. ‘I'm invisible?' He tugged off the cap and was relieved when his reflection flickered on to the plate.

‘Evidently,' Mopsus drawled. ‘Do you always go out of your way to state the obvious?'

‘What about the belt?' Max said faintly. ‘What does that do?'

Death picked it up. ‘
Age quod agis
.' The belt wriggled out of his fingers and zigzagged across the floor. It slid up Max's waist and tied itself into a knot.

‘So this is to save me from my jeans falling down?'

‘Untie the belt and flick it at Mopsus,' Death instructed, to Mopsus's obvious annoyance.

Max did as he was told, thinking that if he
did
have a weapon it would be a pitchfork to skewer the nasty little creature.

‘Interesting choice,' Mopsus sulked.

The belt had turned cold and heavy in Max's hands. Staring down, he saw it had turned into a gleaming pitchfork.

‘It will turn into whatever you want, although it hasn't quite got the hang of anything automated,' Death continued. ‘You are free to experiment but be warned: it has been known to get messy. Now, get dressed.'

Max yanked on the robes, which were several inches too long.

‘Now you are ready,' Death told him.

‘Ready for what?' Max shoved the whistle into his pocket. ‘I'd have to be desperate to use that whistle again. That animal is loopy.'

Cuppy snorted, spraying Max with chunks of bread.

Death waved his bony hand, indicating Max should sit at the table. ‘Mopsus is good at telling tales. He will fill you in on the background of your task.'

Mopsus sat opposite Max and waggled a finger in his ear. With a satisfied grunt he withdrew a plug of thick yellow wax and rolled it between his thumb and forefinger.

‘Many centuries ago, in the city of Alexandria was a library which was famous the world over,' he said. ‘Nothing has ever been built to rival it: floors of gold, pillars of silver, archways framed with diamonds and rubies. In its vaults were
treasures said to be gifts from the gods, including an elixir.'

Max frowned. ‘You've lost me.'

‘A liquid with life-giving powers,' said Mopsus, pausing to suck the wax from his fingers with obvious relish. ‘The elixir could heal injuries, extend life and even bring people back from the dead. Recently something happened to make us believe that perhaps the elixir survived the library's annihilation.'

Death placed a bony hand on the table. ‘Days ago a soul that was due to be harvested regenerated itself.'

‘Perhaps you got the date wrong?' Max suggested. ‘Or maybe there was a mix-up…' He trailed off, aware the temperature in the room had suddenly plummeted.
Another note to self, do not ever suggest that Death could make a mistake
. Max shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

Mopsus broke the silence. ‘There is no error. The elixir needs to be retrieved before whoever has it can use it again. Interrupting death disrupts the natural order. If the person who has the elixir keeps using it then we're looking at a natural disaster on a grand scale. Not just for the Earth, but for the whole universe.'

Not for the first time, Max wondered why he had been chosen. The suspicion that he was being manipulated by the Grim Reaper refused to go away.

Death pushed back his chair and stalked up and down, electricity sparking from his robes.

‘He is not a happy bunny,' Mopsus pointed out in a hushed tone. ‘Death never usually interferes with the affairs of man. But this time, it's
personal
.'

‘Why doesn't he just go and zap whoever it is that's got the elixir?' Max asked.

Suddenly he found himself up close and personal with Mopsus's lengthy nasal hair. ‘The truth is,' Mopsus whispered, his breath almost as potent as Cerberus's, ‘he's not allowed to interfere with what goes on in the Overworld. Even
he
's accountable for his actions.'

Death rejoined them and withdrew from his cloak a leather pouch. ‘Mopsus,' he boomed. ‘Give the boy a key.'

Mopsus crossed the room and unhooked a familiar brass key from a hook beside the fireplace. ‘Don't lose this,' he warned Max, ‘it's not easy getting spare ones cut.'

Max's eyebrows shot up when he read the slogan on the machine-gun-shaped fob that was attached to the key:
I like you, so I'll kill you last
.

Death tossed over the pouch, which clinked when Max caught it. ‘The address of the house is in there. Use the key to travel to the Overworld. Insert it in to any door and a pathway will open between the two worlds. It will take you to the right place.'

‘You want me to find the elixir?'

Death nodded. ‘Bring it to me as soon as you have it.'

Max pushed back the chair, his mouth feeling dry. He needed a drink of water before embarking on his task. His stomach growled and he figured that while he was at it he'd look for something to eat that hadn't been cooked by Liah.

He had his hand on the door when Mopsus called his name. ‘We don't have to remind you not to talk about this to anyone, do we?' he said warningly.

‘Uh uh,' Max said quickly, before stepping into the kitchen.

Liah had a chopping board out and was attacking something that looked as if it had spent its whole life in a dark, damp environment. She flicked a stalk on to the floor where something dark and furry pounced on it and dragged it under a kitchen unit.

Max's appetite shrivelled. ‘Um, hey Liah, I'm just going to get some water.' He looked around for a tap.

‘Over there.' Liah pointed to a bucket placed on a rocky sill. Water dripped into it from the ceiling.

Max set down his cap so he could scoop out a handful of the cold clear liquid.

‘So, what jobs does he have lined up for you?' Liah frowned. ‘And why are you wearing a pair of curtains?'

Max avoided the first question and looked down at the voluminous robes. ‘Like I don't know they don't fit me. But I'm stuck with them since they're part of the job description.' He had no intention of them remaining part of the job description once he was in the Overworld. ‘Do you have a bag?'

Liah put down the knife and rummaged in a kitchen cupboard. ‘Here.'

Max looked at the fluffy koala bear backpack. Was she serious?

Liah shrugged. ‘Mopsus likes to bring back mementos from his trips to the Overworld.' She pulled out a stool and sat down. Her green eyes coolly assessed him. ‘You still haven't explained how you ended up being here.'

‘I offered to play Death for my little sister's life,' Max said. ‘He offered me the job instead. How about you? What happened exactly?' He
remembered she had said she was down here for a similar reason.

Liah circled her finger on the table. ‘My fiancé. He was in a duel – fighting someone else over me. He lost a lot of blood. Death turned up and…' Her voice wobbled. She took a deep breath. ‘You know the rest.'

Max blinked. Her fiancé? She couldn't be more than a couple of years older than he was.

Liah stared past Max, clearly caught up in her memories. ‘I really thought I could play him and win,' she said softly. ‘When I lost, both my life and Tom's should have been taken… but Death offered me a job instead.'

‘So you saved Tom's life,' Max said.

Liah sniffed. ‘Yes. Just like you've saved your little sister. You must be a really good brother.'

Max suddenly wished Liah would go back to being her usual self – the girl who would sooner chew her own arm off than part with a compliment. He felt his cheeks turn hot. He wasn't a great brother to Amy.

Liah pushed back her stool, her eyes suspiciously moist. ‘I need to get some beans from the stores. I'll be back in a minute.' She hurried away and Max decided now would be a good time to leave.
Tugging off his robes, he stuffed them into the backpack before heading over to the nearest door. He opened it and discovered a cupboard full of brooms and dusters. Closing the door, he inserted the key Mopsus had given him and turned it. When he opened the door again, the cleaning materials were gone. A winding staircase took their place.

Max's mood lightened with each step he took. He was leaving Death's kingdom behind, even if it was just for a few days.

At the top of the staircase was another door, which he pushed open.

Bright sunlight made his eyes water. Traffic roared, people chattered and in the distance a horn sounded. Max turned his face up to the sky to feel the warmth of the sun on his skin and took a deep gulp of fresh air.

He turned to lock the door and was surprised when it burst open, forcing him to take a step back.

Framed in the doorway was Liah.

‘What is this place?' Liah shrieked. She pointed a shaking finger at a bus rumbling past, before covering her ears with her hands and cowering against the door.

The wrong side of it
, Max thought grimly. ‘Liah, you have to go back!' he cried. She was acting crazy. Too much time spent in Death's kingdom clearly wasn't good for a person. He snapped his fingers in front of Liah's face, trying to get her to look at him instead of the traffic whizzing past. ‘Earth to Liah? Hello? Listen to me. You need to go back. You can't stay.'

After a few minutes of trying to get Liah to focus, he gave up. He gripped her arm and towed her along the pavement to the nearest café.

He pushed Liah into a chair. ‘What is wrong with you? It's like you've never…' He broke off when a dark-haired man with olive skin approached them.

‘What can I get you?' the man asked in a heavy accent.

Max ordered the first thing he saw on the menu and turned his attention back to Liah. He finally had an inkling of what might be wrong. ‘Liah, what year was it when you went down into the Underworld?'

There was a long silence. ‘1842,' said Liah, at last. She took a deep breath. ‘How long have I been down there, Max?'

Max did some quick calculations in his head. ‘About a hundred and seventy years.'

Liah eyes brimmed with tears. ‘He'll be dead,' she whispered. ‘All this time he's been in the Underworld, while I've been working in Death's kitchen.'

Max realised she was talking about Tom. He tried to think of something positive to say. ‘At least when you go back you'll be able to find him.'

Liah blinked rapidly, her expression suddenly becoming like flint. ‘I'm not allowed to mix with the dead.'