Untitled Part 34
Hazel felt like she was in a horror movie because of all the screaming around her.
When the Mist broke, an entire school group was exiting the de Young. Once the kids saw two Cyclopes yoked to a wagon, they scattered in all directions with their teachers chasing after. A mom pushing a stroller was politely navigating through a crowd of tourists when she realized the tourists were actually bloodsucking vampires with donkey legs and flaming hair. She shrieked and pushed her stroller from zero to sixty as she fled down the sidewalk. A taxi swerved off the road to avoid a giant scorpion, went airborne, and landed in the plaza wedged between two cypress trees.
Every mortal in sight was behaving similarly. Hazel couldn't blame them.
The moment the world shattered, a compression wave exploded outward from a point just between Hazel and Pirithous. Zigzagging lines of white smoke like horizontal lightning split Golden Gate Park—breaking trees, buildings, cars, streets, and even the sky into a million jagged puzzle pieces.
It was as if Hazel had been looking through a lens her entire life. She simply hadn't realized it until the glass fractured and fell from her eyes. When the white lightning faded and the dust settled, everything looked normal again—except sharper, rawer, and somehow uglier. She'd never realized that Laistrygonian giants had so many warts, or that Cyclopes suffered from pink eye, or that Pirithous's hair was actually a toupee.
What she did realize was that the Mist was gone. The curtain separating mortal and godly realities had been ripped away—at least in this one area of San Francisco. For the first time, perhaps ever, regular mortals were seeing exactly what demigods saw: a world full of monsters and magic. Some of the less rattled mortals were filming the scene on their phones as they backed away from the plaza, and Hazel suspected that those images would appear online with no filter.
The implications were...not great.
Hazel could think of only a couple of upsides to this situation. First, the invisible prison barrier had broken along with the Mist. She knew this because she could breathe again—cold, fresh air, rich with oxygen, without the stench of stale mythic breath and body odor. Second, the hundreds of monsters on both sides of the barrier were momentarily just as stunned as the mortals. No one was attacking anyone. At least not yet.
Her relief was short-lived, though. She was about to yell for Asterion to charge the wagon when a different sort of magical storm formed in front of her.
The ground shook from a peal of thunder so loud that even the largest monsters cowered. A black funnel cloud spiraled downward, seething like boiling water in a pot.
"Yes, yes!" cried Pirithous. "Come forth, Pluto! Come see what I have wrought!"
He snapped his fingers impatiently at his nearest minions. "What are you waiting for? Uncover the tarp!"
Kelli stared at him in disbelief, as if thinking Who, me? Then she grabbed a couple of Laistrygonian giants and led them toward the wagon.
Hazel regained her senses enough to draw her sword. "Asterion!"
Before she could order her troops into battle, another crack of thunder almost knocked her off her feet. The tip of the funnel cloud now hovered only a hundred feet above her. Every cell in her body was charged with panic. A shape descended from the base of the tornado—a smoky human form floating toward them. It was definitely not Pluto.
"Hurry!" Pirithous snapped at his minions.
He was the only one in the park who looked excited. Hundreds of mythics milled restlessly, backing away from the incoming...whatever it was. Even the minor gods looked nervous.
The smoky form split, becoming two human shapes rather than one. Side by side, they descended from the sky, until they floated just above the ground between Hazel and Pirithous.¸
Their forms solidified into flesh. They looked so much alike they might have been identical twins. The one on the right was dressed in a white tunic; the one on the left wore a flowing red palla. Both had smooth bronze skin, shoulder-length dark hair, and the most beautiful faces Hazel had ever seen (which was saying something, since Hazel had seen Venus herself). But the strangest thing about the pair was that they had no feet. They hovered just over the pavement, their legs simply ending below the ankles.
The park had fallen silent. Even the nearest mortals had stopped screaming, though a few were still filming this newest development. Everyone watched the beautiful twins—who had to be gods, Hazel thought —towering over Pirithous.
Mary Tudor and Tantalus cautiously stepped back, leaving the chief judge on his own. As Pirithous realized that he had not, in fact, summoned Pluto, a mix of emotions rippled across his face—surprise, disappointment, confusion, fear. But he managed to hide them behind a smile.
"Welcome!" he said. "Thank you for answering my call!"
The two gods interlocked their hands. They were positively beaming, their faces radiant with joyous light, but Hazel sensed something odd about them. These gods wore their smiles the same way Pirithous wore his golden mask—more to hide behind than to express real feeling.
"So," said the god in the tunic, "you meant to summon us?"
"It has been very long indeed since someone did that," said their twin, looking upon the gathered crowd with an inscrutable smile. "And you broke the Mist to do it?"
Their voices were as beautiful as their faces—soft and melodic, without a hint of displeasure—but Hazel's every instinct screamed DANGER! The rest of the crowd seemed to feel the same way. The mythics, who had been so eager to escape or to fight only moments ago, stood motionless, as tense as grenade pins.
"I— Yes, of course!" said Pirithous, doing his best to regain his composure. "It was I who orchestrated all of this!" He swept his hand across the plaza, indicating what had to be the weirdest crowd ever assembled. "I am Pirithous, chief justice of the Court of the Dead. And I have summoned you here to join our cause!"
The gods kept floating and smiling. Over at the wagon, Kelli and her Laistrygonian giants were trying to remove the tarp, all sly-like, but it wasn't really something they could do subtly.
Hazel was tempted to warn the twin gods that something was up. A trap was about to be sprung. But her gut still told her to stay as still as possible. Also, she wanted to see what would happen. Part of her wondered if these gods might blast Pirithous into a pile of cinders and save them all a lot of trouble.
"I see," said the twin in the red palla. "And what is your cause? My brother here...well, he and I are very interested in what you have to say!"
Pirithous spread his arms magnanimously. "We seek to restore order to the world! Monsters should be monsters! Gods should be honored! Many minor gods who have been forgotten now follow me. If you join us—"
"Minor gods..." said the twin who had been referred to as the brother. His voice was still pleasant—the way a poisonous flower might be pleasant. "Forgotten..."
Panic briefly crossed Pirithous's face. "I don't mean...Obviously you aren't—"
"Then you know who we are," said the other twin. "Since you summoned us in such a dramatic way."
"Y-yes, of course I know!" said Pirithous, glancing back at Kelli as if to say Hurry up with that secret weapon! "Although this poor, ignorant one"— he gestured to Hazel, which she found quite rude—"does not know of your glory. Perhaps you would introduce yourselves for her sake?"
The twins turned to study Hazel. Only Asterion's comforting presence behind her kept her from backing away.
"Poor, ignorant mortal," said the brother. "I am Veritas, the god of truth. My sister is—"
"His counterpart, Aletheia," she said. "Goddess of honesty."
Pirithous looked delighted. "You see, Hazel Levesque? You see the quality of gods I have summoned?"
From across the plaza, Hazel heard a sound she hadn't expected: a derisive snort. She glanced to her right and saw her old enemy Laverna, goddess of thieves, covering her mouth and trying very hard not to look at the newcomers.
Hazel frowned. She returned her focus to the twins and went with her gut.
"You're lying," she said. "You're no gods of truth."
For a heartbeat, the twins maintained their calm angelic demeanor. Their eyes gleamed. Hazel waited for them to blast her into the next dimension.
Then the brother grinned at his sister.
The sister laughed like she'd just heard a dirty joke. "Oh my gods. Their faces! At least this girl isn't a complete fool."
Pirithous blanched. "I don't— Wait. What?"
"Ask your friend Laverna," Hazel said. "She knows these two."
"Laverna is here?" The brother cackled, his voice now more malicious than melodic. "Where are you, girl? Get over here!"
Laverna trudged over, her expression sour. With her sack over her shoulder and leaning on a new iron pole, she looked like Santa's evil sister after a hard night's work abducting naughty children.
Meanwhile, Kelli and her giants had finally succeeded in uncovering the wagon. When Pirithous saw this, he seemed to relax, his face regaining some of its old smugness.
"Laverna," he said, "by the oath that binds you, I command you to tell me who these two...guests are."
Hazel got the feeling he wanted to use a less polite word than guests. She didn't know what oath Pirithous was talking about, but his command seemed to cause the goddess physical pain.
"The sister is Apate," she said. "Spirit of deception. The brother is her counterpart: Dolus, god of trickery and guile."
Apate leered at her. "Awww, and we were having such fun! You used to be a better sport, Laverna. What are you doing working with this puffed-up pretender, anyway?"
Pirithous's face was a mottled red. "You lied about being gods of truth?"
Dolus grinned. "That's kind of what we do."
"They look exactly like Truth and Honesty," Laverna muttered. "The only way you can tell the difference"—she gestured at their spindly floating legs—"is that this pair can't stand on their own two feet."
"We save a ton on shoes, though," Apate said, winking at Pirithous. "Now, Mister Chief Justice Person, perhaps you could explain why you threw this little party, because it sure wasn't to wake us up from our long slumber. We like the Mist. It tricks people. We tend to notice when someone breaks it."
Mary Tudor and Tantalus were now trying to hide behind each other, like they were playing some weird game of tag. Kelli stood by her cart, apparently waiting for a command. The rest of the crowd remained motionless, entranced by the two beautiful liars who appeared on the verge of doing something violent and possibly entertaining.
"It's a trap," Hazel blurted out. "You should leave right now."
The twins regarded her.
"But we like traps," said Dolus.
"Adore them," Apate agreed. "Especially since they don't work on us. But I tell you what, child, since you seem to be the only one here with a functioning brain: once Pirithous answers our questions and fails to trap us, I'll let you decide how we cook him—Cajun spice or extra crispy, hmm?"
"Yum!" said Dolus. "Now hush and let the adults talk."
They returned their attention to Pirithous, who seemed to be having trouble swallowing.
"I—I was not lying," Pirithous stammered. "My plan is exactly what I said."
"It was all Pirithous's idea!" Queen Mary shrieked.
"He forced us!" Tantalus added.
Apate smiled amiably at the two judges. "Well, good. Then we don't need you." She snapped her fingers, and Mary and Tantalus turned to dust. Maybe this should have pleased Hazel, but all the hair rose on her arms.
She reached for Asterion's hand. She could hear the rustle of Quinoa's leafy wings as he trembled in Arielle's arms. Hazel wondered if she and her friends could find a way to leave now, and let Pirithous face the ramifications of his actions alone. But she didn't want to draw any attention. Also, she couldn't abandon the other imprisoned mythics, or put mortals in even worse danger. She had a feeling these twins were not particular about who they turned extra crispy.
"Whoops!" Apate regarded the piles of judge dust she'd made and giggled like a child at a birthday party. "Laverna, my old friend, perhaps you could tell us the nature of Pirithous's trap, and why you are serving such an inferior being."
"Laverna," Pirithous countered, "you will say nothing."
The goddess of thieves looked so torn Hazel thought her head might come off again. Laverna opened her mouth, but no sound came out.
"Well then," Dolus sighed. "I guess we don't need you, either."
He snapped his fingers, and the goddess exploded into a cloud of lint.
Pirithous's eyes widened. "You dare disintegrate my goddess?"
"Don't be silly," said Apate. "We can't disintegrate goddesses. We just sent her to Mongolia. Or possibly Tanzania. Not really sure. She'll find her way back eventually."
"Now, then!" Dolus raised his voice so it echoed throughout the park. "Before I have to vaporize anyone else, what were you really trying to do here, Pirithous?"
The last remaining judge tried to stand straighter, to give the appearance that he knew what he was doing, but Hazel wasn't fooled. He looked terrified.
"I—I was hoping for Hades," he said in a high-pitched voice.
Dolus's smile filled Hazel with dread. "So, you did not intend for us to arrive?"
"No," Pirithous said. "That is the truth. But that doesn't mean we can't work together! I'm sure there is something I can do to provide both of you with what you want!"
"Oh, you can!" Apate glanced over her shoulder at Hazel. "What do you think, girl, Cajun spice, perhaps?"
The goddess lifted her arm and extended it toward Pirithous.
He backed away, his panicked eyes darting from side to side. "Kelli, now!"
The empousa cheerleader yelled, "RELEASE!"
The Laistrygonian giants and Cyclopes tipped over the entire wagon, spilling its contents across the steps of the museum. It sounded like a car being crushed in a trash compactor.
Pirithous's secret weapon was an enormous chain. Each link was made of black Stygian iron and large enough that Hazel could've stepped through it easily. At either end was a stirrup-shaped shackle about four feet wide. Just looking at them made Hazel nauseated. As a child, she'd seen similar instruments of enslavement in museums in New Orleans. This chain was bigger and probably magic. But its purpose was the same.
Apate and Dolus had a different reaction. The two gods fell into each other's arms, laughing so hard that tears rolled down their faces.
"He thinks...He thinks he can..." Dolus wheezed. "BWAHAHAHAHA!"
"With a chain!" Apate howled in delight. "What a fool!"
Pirithous did not look offended or frightened. His expression hardened.
He seemed...certain.
"Laugh while you can," Pirithous said, raising his hand. "I, too, know how to snap my fingers."
Apate managed to catch her breath. "Yes, show us your mighty power, Pirithous!"
Dolus spread his arms as if greeting the chain like a friend. "Come forth!" he begged. "Amaze me!"
Pirithous snapped his fingers. "Dolus and Apate, I bind you."
Nothing happened. The twin gods collapsed in another peal of laughter.
Then the chain lashed out like a rattlesnake. One shackle struck Apate in the neck, contracting until it had her in a choke hold. The other shackle did the same to Dolus. The gods crashed to the pavement so violently that Hazel winced. Dolus's face smacked against the asphalt.
The twins tried to rise, but they couldn't. The chain pulled them down, forcing their heads to the ground.
Dolus gasped. "What—what is this?"
Pirithous approached, once again in full command of the situation.
"I thought you knew everything about traps," he said. "Or did I actually succeed in deceiving the gods of deception?"
Apate snarled, trying in vain to raise her head. "How?" she croaked. "How is it so heavy?"
"Well," Pirithous said with a smirk, "the chain was meant for a Titan, after all. Someone far more powerful than you."
He knelt at Apate's side, cupping her chin in his hand as if he were going to inspect her teeth. Hazel wanted to run him through with her sword, but she was too horrified to move.
"You see," Pirithous said, "when Hades released me from my punishment, he thought I would quietly fade away, becoming one of those impotent shades who drift around Asphodel. But I did not. I wandered the darkest corners of Erebos, consumed with righteous fury. I knew I had been given a sacred mission—to bring order to the Underworld by replacing that lazy, incompetent, corrupt, unfair..." He shuddered, struggling to bring his anger under control. "By replacing Hades."
He stood, smiling directly at Hazel. "Oh, I had no problem finding followers who agreed with me! But I needed more than bodies. I needed something that could trap a god. It took me ages, but I found it—a chain forged by Hephaestus himself, infused with the power of Zeus and the entire Council of Olympus. And then, like so many things made by the gods —it had simply been forgotten, abandoned, tossed aside. Much like me and all my followers!" He faced Dolus and Apate. "You should feel honored, my newest recruits. You have been bound"—he paused dramatically—"by the chains of Prometheus!"
A terrible wail rose from Apate, forcing Hazel to clamp her hands over her ears.
"Free us!" cried the goddess.
"You will regret this!" howled Dolus.
Hazel shivered. She had told Pirithous much the same thing in the Court of the Dead. And yet, despite the terrible power of these gods, here was Pirithous with the upper hand again.
The spectacle still held everyone spellbound. Mortal bystanders, having recovered from their initial shock, were starting to gather around the plaza. Half a dozen cars had stopped in the street, both drivers and passengers hanging out their windows, aiming their phones at the crowd of monsters. In the distance, Hazel heard the thump, thump, thump of an approaching helicopter. A news crew? The police? Either way, it was the last thing they needed.
Asterion squeezed her hand. "What should we do?"
Hazel wished she had an answer.
Next to her, Arielle cradled Quinoa more closely. "I don't think we can fix this," she murmured. "We need to cut our losses and get away from here. If we all run at once, he can't stop us all."
"Maybe she's right," Quinoa said. "I don't want to become food for anyone!"
They had a point, but it still didn't feel right to Hazel. She couldn't simply leave all this behind, could she? She hadn't solved anything. She couldn't let Pirithous win. Demigods weren't supposed to flee; they were supposed to stand and fight!
Meanwhile, Pirithous was glorying in his newest triumph. He strutted around the chained gods, his arms raised.
"Look what I have done, Hades!" he shouted to the skies. "This will be your fate, too!"
Asterion knelt next to Hazel. "It must be your decision, Praetor. I can see you struggling with this, but we will follow your lead."
Hazel gripped her spatha. Maybe helping the others flee really was the best option—to save as many lives as they could—but it didn't sit well with her. She needed to understand these chains. She needed to take their power away from Pirithous.
"Hades!" Pirithous called out again. "I am giving you the opportunity to defend yourself! Present yourself for my judgment!"
He is delusional, Hazel thought. Father will never show up for him.
Pirithous dropped his arms, and then he turned to address his followers. "No matter! We will continue our efforts until the accused does show his face. With our two new recruits, we will be stronger than ever!"
Dolus howled in anger. "We are not your recruits!"
"We will never work for you, fool!" Apate agreed.
"That is your choice, of course," said Pirithous. "You can stay shackled in the chains of Prometheus for as long as you wish. The iron does have a way of convincing its victims, though. When I first summoned Laverna and put her in those chains, she lasted almost half a day before the eagle found her."
The twins stopped struggling.
"Eagle?" said Dolus.
"Oh, yes!" Pirithous said. "A clever bird. It knows exactly how to cut open the belly of a god and feed on their immortal organs. Very painful, I understand. And it will just keep feeding...forever, as long as you are chained. But you don't have to worry about that just yet. Your first problem will be the agony that comes from simply wearing those shackles. That should start right about...now."
The twins writhed, screaming, as their restraints began to glow and steam.
Hazel couldn't stand it. She had no love for these gods of deceit, but there was nothing fake about their cries of pain. She wasn't sure she could do much, but she readied her spatha.
As quickly as it started, the gods' agony subsided. They collapsed, gasping and exhausted, smoke still billowing from the irons around their necks.
"There, now," Pirithous said. "You probably have...oh, a couple of minutes to relax. Of course, every time is exponentially more painful. I have to give Zeus credit. When he designs an eternal punishment, he doesn't mess around."
"We will destroy you," said Apate, but there was no force behind her words. She sounded like she was about to cry.
"Let us out," croaked Dolus. "What do you want?"
"Oh, it's simple!" Pirithous said. "Bind yourself to me, as all these others have done before you. Serve the Court of the Dead. Swear your oath, and I will release you. Understand, you are not who I'm after. Together, we will bring Hades to his knees!"
Hazel could see it in the gods' faces—they were about to relent. They could not stand the pain. And once Pirithous had them on his side, he would be more powerful than ever. She and her friends would be turned to dust. Pirithous would keep going, collecting followers, enslaving the gods themselves, until finally her father would have no choice but to respond— and possibly be enslaved.
"No," she decided. She turned to her friends. "We can't flee."
Asterion nodded solemnly. "We are outnumbered. I do not think we can win. But if we must fight, I will be honored to die at your side."
Arielle grimaced. "I can't believe I am saying this, but me, too. I will fight with you, Hazel Levesque."
Quinoa grunted. "Why not? Even the best grain can't last forever. Say when."
A warm sensation coursed through Hazel's body. At first, she thought it was simply gratitude for having these friends at her side. And that was part of it, yes. But it was also a sense that something had changed, like a shifting tide.
She scanned the park.
There. Down the road to the south, about a hundred feet from the plaza, a group of people were running in their direction. And the one in the lead wore a bomber jacket.
Hazel laughed with delight, startling even her friends.
Asterion frowned. "What is it, Hazel?"
"The cavalry," she said. Then she raised her sword and shouted loudly enough for all the mythics to hear. "ATTACK!"
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