Apollyon

Hopefully, my visit to the Underworld would be different this time.

Toward the back of the foundation, the air rippled, reminding me of heat rolling off of hot pavement in the summer. The veil that separated the truth from the mortal world simply slipped away.

“Do you see it?” I asked.

Aiden squeezed my hand. “Yes.”

The wrought-iron gate encased in titanium was huge, latching into something neither of us could see. Instead of bars, there were two-pronged spears decorated with images of black bulls and ewes. Where the two gates joined, a replica of the invisible helmet was engraved into the iron. The musty scent grew stronger.

With his free hand, Aiden pushed the gate open. It swung backward, making no sound, revealing nothing but darkness—not the kind associated with night, but a black void. A portal. And together, hand and hand, we stepped through the gates to the Underworld.

CHAPTER 21

I almost expected that, when we stepped into the void, we’d fall flat on our faces. But the ground remained under our feet as we continued into the darkness, which eventually gave way to fog as thick as soup.

Glancing over my shoulder, I sought to find the gate before the fog swallowed us whole, but it was gone and the fog was even heavier. I gripped Aiden’s hand as tendrils seeped between us, wrapping a different kind of cloak around us. I couldn’t even see Aiden… or two feet in front of me. A pang of panic unfurled in my chest.

“I’m right here.” Aiden’s deep voice parted the veil and he squeezed my hand. “Just keep hold.”

I briefly considered using the air element to dispel some of the fog, but if the fog was supposed to be here, that could be potentially bad news if it suddenly up and disappeared.

The further we moved into the fog, the more u

After several minutes of nothing but blindly walking through fog and that terrible dragging and moaning sound, the fog started to break apart until the path was revealed before us.

I sucked in a breath, unable to stop from clutching his arm. What little part of the Underworld I’d seen before hadn’t prepared me.

The fog gave way to a sky that was the color of the fading sun, a cross between red and orange. But from what I could tell, there was no sun. And all around us were people, moving about aimlessly. Dressed in bland, tattered clothing, they shuffled to and fro. Many stayed silent; some moaned quietly, while others muttered under their breath from behind their own cloaks, but all had their gazes trained to the ground. They were young and old, from the smallest child to the most aged crone.

This… this holding place continued as far as the eye could see, to the cusp of the hills Apollo had spoken of. I didn’t understand what this place really was. It wasn’t limbo—that much I knew—as I had been there before.

None of the souls looked up as we navigated around them. There were no guards on horses, like I’d seen in limbo. It appeared as if these people had been placed here, left alone to their own devices and boredom.

“Why?” I asked in a hushed voice.

Aiden knew what I was asking. “The majority of the dead reside here.” He led me around a group of three huddled together on the dirt. “Those who have been buried, but haven’t gone on to face their judgment. Some of them may have done something in their lives to make them fear their judgment. Others are…”

A woman moved in front of us, her gaze glued to the ground as she wrung her hands. She muttered under her breath, “Where’s my baby?” over and over again.

“Some are confused,” I answered. “They don’t know they’re dead.”

Aiden nodded solemnly.

And then the sad woman simply vanished, as if she had walked through an invisible portal—there one moment and gone the next.

I halted. “What the…?”

“I’ll explain, but we must keep moving.” Aiden tugged me forward. “Legend says that some of these souls leave limbo and have turned shade. They go back to the mortal world, and then return here again. I don’t think they can even control it.”

I swallowed. “They’re ghosts.”

“Thought you didn’t believe in ghosts.” Humor laced his tone.

Now was a pretty good time to change my mind. As I peered out from beneath my hood, there was something ghastly to some of the souls. Many of them looked solid and from how they’d brushed against me, I knew they had mass, but others had that wonky fuzziness to them. And the more I paid attention, the more others simply vanished.

This place was creepy, like walking through a maze of the hopeless and forgotten. And we hadn’t even reached the Vale of Mourning yet. Yee haw, this was going to be fun.

A sudden damp coldness clung to the air around us. I lifted my head, eyeing the burnt orange sky. One drop of water fell, splashing off my cheek. Then they sky opened up, drenching us in cold rain within seconds.

I sighed. “Really, it has to rain?”

“At least it’s not acid.”

That was Aiden, always looking on the bright side of things.

Tugging my hood down closer, I trudged forward. The souls paid no heed to the heavy rainfall. Perhaps they’d grown used to it. I wanted to stop and yell at them to go to judgment, because whatever waited for them couldn’t be worse than this.

Especially for the little ones who were all alone—there was nothing they could have done to warrant them eternity in Tartarus.

One small boy sat alone in a large puddle the rain had already created. The child couldn’t have been more than four or five. He moved his chubby fingers in the mud, drawing a circle and then wiggly lines all around it.

The sun—he was drawing the sun.

I started toward him, not sure what I’d do, but I had to do something—maybe convince him to go to judgment. Gods knew how long he’d been here. His family could already be in Elysian Fields.

“No,” Aiden said softly.

“But—”

“Remember what Apollo said. We ca

I stared at the little boy, fighting the urge to break free. “It’s wrong.”

Aiden’s grip on my hand tightened. “I know, but there’s nothing we can do.”

My heart ached as I watched the little boy carve a moon beside the sun, heedless to the rain or the other souls practically trampling him. I wanted to be angry and I was—even at Aiden, because he was right. There was nothing we could do. And there would be more like this little boy—more forgotten souls.

Fighting back the sting of tears, I pulled my hand free from Aiden’s but didn’t run off. I fell in step beside him as we passed beyond the poor child, navigating the endless field of souls that had been either left behind or cast aside.

It took hours to pass through the Asphodel Fields. By the time we left the ankle-deep mud and our boots touched scattered patches of grass, we were drenched and cold, our cloaks weighted down and heavy. Rain had somehow snuck into my boot and, with each step, my foot sloshed back and forth. Exhaustion dogged me, and probably Aiden too, but neither of us complained. Traveling through the field of all those souls had served as a reminder that things could always be worse.

The rain had let up a little, turning to a constant, steady drizzle. The sky was now a darker orange, signaling that night was close at hand. Ahead, the rolling green hills led up to a thick, nearly impenetrable slate wall. It was going to be a steep climb.