Hardboiled: Not Your Average Detective Story (The Lillim Callina Chronicles Book 5) (14 page)

“You don’t have to come,” Thes said. He gave me a look filled with resolve and just enough fear to tell me he wasn’t going off half-cocked. “In fact, I don’t expect or really want you to come.” He gulped, looking hard at his friend. “Truthfully, I’ve known Connor since I was a pup, and I’m terrified of going to Ancient Egypt to save him. Every part of me is telling me to abandon him. I can’t do that though. And I know, I know I could get you to come help me, Lillim. I know you’re thinking you’re a bad person because you don’t want to help. But you would help, I just know it… and I don’t want you to come. I’m telling you this, Lillim. I’m telling you that I will save Connor, and I don’t want your help.”

In that moment, I knew Thes was a better person than me, by a huge margin. It made me want to stop him because it wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that he was willing to go and, well, he
shouldn’t have to go.
It was my job to go, and I wasn’t, and he was. It made me feel horrible.

“Is that so?” I asked, my voice cracking halfway through as tears tugged at the corners of my eyes. “You want to go there by yourself to save your friend… well, I can’t have you sacrificing yourself to save me some trouble…” I stared at him and the image of Mattoc flitted through my vision. Mattoc had sacrificed himself for me, and I didn’t want that. Not even a little bit. Now this werewolf was going to do the same thing…

“Kronos says there’s a chance it’ll all be fine,” Thes replied, bending down and lifting Connor, slinging the lifeless body over his shoulder. “I don’t think he’s lying.”

“He’s just saying there’s a chance because it’s theoretically possible Like how it is theoretically possible that… that…” I swallowed looking at Kronos for help.

The Titan just stared at me, his eyes flickering like torchlight, and said nothing.

“I know that, Lillim. But you need to go stop the magician guy. You need to stop him before something worse happens. Let me take some of the burden,” Thes said, walking toward Kronos, and not waiting for my response, said, “Can you send us to Hades?”

“Yes,” Kronos said and snapped his fingers. All at once, wisps of white fog that smelled like cherry cough syrup swirled around me, clamping down over my flesh with a feeling that reminded me of the time a million tiny spiders had run over my flesh. The fog lifted me upward, blocking my vision so that I couldn’t see anything at all.

Chapter 13

The giant marble stadium stretched out like a humongous football field. The ground was even covered with that fake AstroTurf that was common on baseball fields, and the stands were filled with all sorts of creatures. From our perch in the very center of the place, I could see ghouls, orcs, and even what looked like a man-sized otter staring down at us. There was even a giant grizzly bear walking through the stands peddling popcorn and soda.

I swallowed and glanced at Thes who was staring wide-eyed at the booth in front of us. It was covered with a giant purple awning and decorated with gold filigree.

“Is that where the important people sit?” I asked, nodding at the booth because it sort of reminded me of those really expensive club boxes at baseball games.

Thes ignored me, eyes still straight ahead as a huge, shadowy form moved toward the front of the box and stared at us, eyes burning like two bright red coals in its otherwise hazy visage. “Do you know where we are?”

“Nope,” I replied, shrugging. The mist had dropped us off here only a moment ago. I’d barely had time to let my brain process what it saw. “But something tells me this is going to get worse before it gets better.”

The sound of a horn blared across the arena, silencing the crowd in an instant. An eerie silence descended over us as a door below the booth opened inward. A man clad in golden armor that reminded me of a Roman legionnaire stepped forward. He had a short sword at his hip and a spear strapped across his back as he strode out to meet us. His helmet was tucked under one arm, leaving his long brown hair to flow behind him like a shimmering wave as he moved.

He smiled, dark eyes glinting as he nodded to each of us. “Have you come to face me, too?” he asked in a voice so gentle that it made me a little scared. I’d once heard a rumor that the nicer someone sounded, the more dangerous they were. This guy sounded like he was part bunny rabbit.

“Um… not really?” I glanced from him to Thes and back again. “Besides, there’s two of us and one of you.”

“Oh,” he replied, reaching up and running one hand through his hair as he thought. “That does seem unfair. You should go get fifty more men.”

“Look, I don’t want to fight you. Not with the two of us or with fifty-two of us. There will be no fighting, got it?” I narrowed my eyes at him. “We’re just trying to get to the halls of the dead.”

“That entrance is right there,” he said, turning so that he could point at the door he had come through.

“Thanks,” Thes said, and as he took a step forward, the man put his hand against Thes’ chest. The movement was so quick, I didn’t even see it.

“Unfortunately, I cannot let you pass,” he replied. “And even if I did,” he added, pulling on the golden chain that hung around his neck. A key slipped free of his armor and dangled there in front of us. The key was so dark that it made the area around it fade in color, leeching the very life from the gladiator’s hand. “You wouldn’t be able to unlock the gates of death without this. And then there’s the matter of Cerberus…”

“So it’s tough to get there. I get it,” Thes said, looking down at the man’s hand, eyes starting to fill with that feral yellow color that reminded me of wolves.

The gladiator smirked, pulling his hand back. “My apologies, wolf. I didn’t mean to cause offense.”

“I’m not offended,” Thes growled in a low and guttural voice. “But I need your key.”

“I’m not trying to dissuade you or anything,” the man said, glancing at me as if pleading for me to intervene. “But let’s just say that you get past me, unlock the gates, and defeat Cerberus. Let’s just say that happens, you know, for the sake of argument.” He grinned at us, teeth shiny and white in the lights of the arena. “You’d still have to convince Charon to let you across the river Acheron, but I’ll assume you have money to pay your way. Do you know who sits on the shores of the Acheron waiting to kill those that appear?”

“Uh… no?” I said as a sinking feeling filled my stomach.

“The Spartans. Those same three hundred souls and their fool king Leonidas sit on the banks, destined to repel intruders forever. That is why no one has ventured into Hades since Leonidas and his werewolves perished so many years ago.”

“Wait… King Leonidas was a werewolf?” Thes asked, taking a step back, eyes wide.

“Yes,” the gladiator said, smiling so creepily it made me shiver. “He was an Alpha among Alphas.”

“So we need to kill you, Cerberus, Charon, and three hundred werewolves?” I asked in my best desperado voice. “I could do that without even eating breakfast.” I gestured at the centaur leg still clasped in Thes’ right hand. Admittedly, I was partially surprised he still had it. “And I’ve already eaten lunch.”

The gladiator laughed, a low rumbling sound that seemed to echo across the arena. “Very well,” he replied, turning toward the crowd and raising his arms. “They wish to proceed,” he boomed, his voice carrying like he was using a megaphone.

“Spartacus! Spartacus!” the crowd began to cheer as he turned back toward us and put on his helmet. I swallowed, fear rising up in my stomach as his lips twisted into a grin. This was the Spartacus? The legendary gladiator who sacked so many cities and led a slave rebellion? And we didn’t even have weapons. Okay, well maybe Thes could turn into that horrible rage beast with giant claws and stuff, but I couldn’t. I was primarily a sword fighter, and news flash, who goes up against Spartacus with a couple bracelets, magic powered or not?

“Good luck,” Spartacus said. He pulled out his spear and jabbed the pointy end at the air in front of us.

“Um… Thes?” was all I managed to say before I had to throw myself to the side to avoid Spartacus’ attack. His spear cleaved through the space by my face, so close, I felt the wind rush by me. I hit the ground hard, rolling awkwardly as Thes transformed. One moment, he was his normal, huge self. The next, he was an eight foot tall howling nightmare creature with giant black claws.

Spartacus whirled, the length of his spear slamming into Thes’ lunging form. The haft of the weapon splintered into a million tiny fragments against Thes’ moving bulk. The werewolf’s claws raked outward as Spartacus dropped to his knees and bolted to his feet under the attack. He brought his elbow up with the full force of his upward motion and drove it into the underside of Thes’ snout.

A loud crack filled the air as Thes was launched into the air, teeth and blood spilling from his mouth. He hit the ground a moment later in human form, head lolling listlessly to the side as the gladiator turned and eyed me, a stony look on his face.

The crowd began to cheer as he took a step toward me. His sandaled feet made no noise on the turf as he moved. “I am Spartacus, the greatest gladiator to ever pick up a blade. You think that you and an untrained puppy can defeat not just me, but all those who seek to guard Hades?”

He shrugged at me. “I thought that perhaps, perhaps you had something going for you. That you had a plan. Surely she must have a plan if she is acting so brazen, I told myself. But it seems you are just a couple of arrogant children.”

His foot lashed out, and I knocked it away with my left forearm. The force of it deadened my arm, and it fell limply to my side as he regained his balance and shook his head again. “I expected better.”

“Are you done?” I asked, straightening up and putting up my good hand.

“What does it matter,” he said, sitting back on his haunches and staring at me. “Call your power.” He shrugged again. “I have been fighting for over two millennia. I have long since surpassed whatever power you could bring to bear against me.”

Instead of replying, I reached out with my magic. I let it flow through me as I opened up myself to the ebb and flow of the energy around me. It thrummed in the air like a beating heart, pumping and churning across my skin. I took a deep breath, sucking in power that tasted vaguely of spearmint.

“Rise and breathe, Apep,” I whispered the words I’d heard Mattoc use in fairy. They hummed in the air, dancing like effervescent fire flies. The arena darkened as shadows coalesced around my hands, forming into wispy claws of pure darkness that extended from my bangles. I focused a little more and shadowy tentacles began to weave around me, dancing in the air like an angry anemone.

Sweat began to drip down my face as I concentrated on making the weapon solid. I still wasn’t used to wielding Apep alone. If I had Shirajirashii or Mattoc here to help me, I could whip this guy in a second, but now, without my swords, what was I going to do, blast him in the face with smoke?

I gritted my teeth as the smell of roses filled the air, and the formless smoke began to take the shape of writhing rose vines. Little bits of pink and purple light began to flit around me, like the fast moving wings of effervescent dragonflies.

“Interesting.” Spartacus smirked at me as he stood, one hand reaching down to grip the hilt of his short sword. “You’re not in the Egypt wing,” he said, smirking at me. “That’s on your left.”

I raised an eyebrow at him as a gaudy orange door appeared on his left. It was huge and adorned with gilded bones. A massive obsidian statue of a cat sat perched atop its frame, looking down on us with green eyes that seemed almost… real.

“What the hell?” I asked, so confused that my concentration vanished, and my bangles returned to normal. Dammit. I was going to really have to practice with using Apep on his own, or I was going to be about as dangerous as a field mouse.

“Your deity is Egyptian,” Spartacus said as if I didn’t know who Apep was.

“Yeah, so?” I asked.

“The hosts of non-Greco-Roman deities are to be sent directly to Hades himself for processing. Those are the rules.” He shrugged again as if to say, “I don’t make the rules, I just follow them.”

“So what if I was with Zeus?” I asked, staring at the door as it opened to reveal a swirling purple pustule of space.

“Then you know, Cerberus, Spartans, Charon.” He shrugged again. “Consider yourself lucky. And, a word of advice, don’t try entering through the Egyptian wing.” He shivered. “You don’t even want to know how they guard their entrance.”

“Um… what about my friends?” I asked, gesturing to the unconscious forms of Thes and Connor.

“I suppose they can go with you.” Spartacus winked at me. “And next time, you might just start off by saying you’re a Valkyrie. We might have saved your friend some bumps and bruises.” He glanced at Thes as he said the last part.

“You know, I’ve been called that before,” I said. “A Valkyrie, I mean. Why do you guys keep calling me that?”

Spartacus smiled and shook his head. “That’s right, you guys are called the Dioscuri now. That’s decidedly more Greek.” He smirked. “And no, I’m not going to tell you your own history. It isn’t my place, either.” Spartacus covered his mouth with his hand and looked like he was about to say something more when a man stepped forth from the doorway and shook his head once.

He had eyes as dark as obsidian, and even though his gaze wasn’t directed at me, it made my blood run cold. His skin was so pale it might have been made from milk. He had shaggy blonde hair and at least three days of stubble on his face. He glanced at me, hooking his thumbs in the waistband of his blue board shorts and shot me a grin that reminded me of Orange County surfer boys.

“Sup?” he asked, glancing around the arena before walking up to me, cheap black sandals squeaking with each step.

Instead of responding, I cocked my head, trying to read the writing scrawled across his purple T-shirt. “My eyes are up here,” he said, voice slightly annoyed, and I looked up, feeling my cheeks flush.

“Sorry, I was trying to read your shirt,” I replied, my face hot with embarrassment.

He glanced down at his shirt and smirked. “It says, ‘Don’t worry Pluto, I’m not a planet either.’” He looked back up at me, mischief playing across his face. “It’s a joke because, you know, my other name is Pluto.”