Authors Note:
I'm sorry this took forever! I'll try to be quicker in the future.
this one come with a song, as usual.
When the Chips are Down - Hadestown (srsly it's an incredible concept album and I use it SO MUCH for inspiration of the underworld)
Chapter 7: the way home.
Uma leads us to the cave where she hid after the cotillion, the one where she waited to the opportunity to swim across and reunite with her crew at the next opportunity to slip through the barrier.
As soon as I see it I know it's no wonder she wasn't caught- the place to small, dark, and encompassed almost entirely in the rock of the cliff. It's not comfortable in any way, and there is barely enough space for the four of us to sleep comfortably- but it's hidden, dry, and the close proximity to the others makes it warm enough to sleep in.
Or at least to try and sleep.
Gil volunteers to take the first watch of the night and I the second. I sleep close enough to the cave mouth to be easily accessible when his two hours of the watch are done and I am to take over.
In the end, he doesn't even need to wake me up.
I spend those two hours wide awake, looking out at the patch of night sky visible from the cave's mouth and trying to quiet my restless thoughts. To say that my mind is all over the space would be an understatement.
I think of the tomorrow's ritual. I think of what would happen if nothing comes forward, and even more terrifying- what happens if it does?
How do I lead an army? How do I stand and command with confidence when I have never felt less confident in my life?
Before my father became sick, before I had to leave the crew to take care of him around the clock I would be a spy and a scout. I would be the creature that hides in dark corners and creeps to learn all your moves. I would be the thing that comes out of those shadows and presses a blade to your throats. I would be the wind that flies in an out of your house- leaving a threatening note from the crew in its wake. If Uma was the head of the crew, the glorious leader bathed in the spotlight and sure of herself- than I was its shadow.
My work was good. It was important- I had no doubts about that. But a shadow couldn't lead an army, not if it wanted to be obeyed.
My father was made of shadow, but he wasn't one. He pretended well enough, smiled and flattered, attended parties and baby showers, all to avert suspicion from himself. He did that for thousands of years, while he schemed and plotted the plan that nearly won him Olympus (only to be brought down by not killing a baby himself). He embraced the shadow, but he wasn't one. Not truly.
Me?
I guarded myself my whole life. I never let anyone see my weakness of my tears; I never let them know about my fears and desires. And as a result no one trusted or cared for me. The only one who did know was Uma, whom I came to trust over the years due the bond between us- a bond made by blood and strengthened by friendship. Only she knew all that I dared not tell anyone. For the longest time only she knew that I used to wish for my mother's magic as a child- to rule spring and make flowers blood as I walked. She knew I as in love with Harry long before he gave me a shot. She knew I dreamed, more the anything, to see a firework show up close. She knew my secrets and let me know hers. It was worth it. Only ones did I let someone accept her see me this unguarded- with Harry. And that didn't end well for any of us. Yes. My father was just pretending to be a being of shadows. As I lied awake there in the cave before my watch I was starting to fear that maybe I truly was one.
"Sem?" Gill whispers as he touched my shoulder softly. He didn't need to wake me. I was wide awake.
I get up from my place on the cave floor and smile at him, "is it time?" I ask
"Yeah" he says and hands me the clock he used to tell the time. It's Harry's clock, I notice with surprise.
"Thanks" I say as I take it. Shuffling as quietly as I can to take his spot on the watch
"Are you alright?"
I turn and look at him with surprise. I am not, that's for sure, but how the hell could he tell that- he is hardly the susceptive sort.
"Yeah" I say casually "it's just hard to sleep here"
"Ok" he says. He groans a bit as he tries to find a comfortable spot on the floor. Silence takes over the cave once more; I stare out at the shore and listen to the waves when suddenly-
"Are you nervous about tomorrow?"
I look at Gill in surprise. He doesn't look at me, his head in the cradle of his palms he looks to the cave's sealing.
"No" I shrug, but that feels so fake that I am sure even he can read through it so I add "Why do you ask"
"Because I am" he says with truthfulness that makes me regret lying. Damn him and this weird nature of his. Sometimes I wonder where the hell does it come from, this behavior that is so much like genuine kindness. He would be dead on the isle tan times over if he wasn't also so damn good in a fight.
"Me too, I guess" I say after another silence. This time there is no reply. I figure he just fell asleep. I sigh deeply and open the watch to take the time, make a mental note to wake up Harry in another two hours as I settle down in a more comfortable position for my watch.
We sleep in late this morning. Making sure everyone is feeling lively and ready to work as soon as the sun sets later that night. It's one of the points my father was always specific about- summoning the dead is to be done away in the dark, the witching hour, midnight and the first hour after sunset being the most powerful options to choose from. I decide to go for the earliest option for two reasons- the first is that I am nervous and eager to get this over and done with as soon as I can; the second is so that I have two extra time windows to try again in case the ritual fails.
The ritual of summoning itself would be unbearably complicated if I haven't had a solid proof last night that I can, in fact, do magic. Now that I know that magic works as I tell it to and that it operates in the way that my father always promised it would, the ritual itself boils down to some very simple compartments.
The first two we brought with us from the isle, the first one was a thick red paste made of muddy earth, blood and the ashes of my father's own funeral pyre (or as much as w could actually gather from the shore the next morning). That would be used for me to draw the gateway, to door in the wall through which my army would march.
The second bit if the ritual we brought from the island was harder to come by, and took bribing, stealing and breaking into every the lab of every potions master in town.
On an island populated by evil masterminds and their minions there was luckily a large selection to choose from. In the end we found our prize in Maleficent's old castle, back in the area that used to be the town's centre back when the high queen of evil was the biggest authority on the island. Back before (according to rumor) she got herself turned into a gecko. But I digress. The bit we stashed away from her stores was several old bundles of dried asphodel- the flower used in the days of old to call on favors from my father and offered to him as token of respect. My father always said the dead liked the smell. Personally I can't smell anything from these old wreaths and I hope against all hope that they have some shred of magic left in them after all those years.
The rest of the ingredients can be gathered around us- blood, water, earth.
After we fill our "summon an unholy army of the dead" check list the rest of the day goes by slowly but calmly. I manage to catch an extra two hours of sleep as Gill lights a small fire. Harry paces like a cages animal around us, only to be partially distracted when Uma returns from the water with fish for lunch.
It's so calm and peaceful out here it's almost easy to forget that we are planning an invasion inside an enemy territory. I sit by the flames, leaning casually on my cousin's shoulder and calmly warming my feet.
I try to think if this is how kids in Auradon spend their autumn nights, with friends, with a full stomach, and without a care in the world. I think of the large rooms and the servants, the clean water at every tap. I think of the fact that the children of magical creatures such as the fairy godmother and the genie will never know the suffocating feeling of breathing air without magic. Just as I never knew the freedom of breathing in air that is rich with it.
The isle is barely visible from where we set our little camp. I can see the edge of the perpetual dark clouds above it and I think of how our family is spending their evening. In decaying buildings, eating rotting food and sleeping with a blade.
The unfairness of it boils by blood.
"It's almost time" I say, drawing the other's attention to me. They stare at me- as serious as the grave.
"You sure?" asks Uma, she places a soft hand on my shoulder and squeezes gently.
"No" I admit "but I won't be any more sure at midnight.
The others stand on the shore in a safe distance from me. They would have stood closer, but I directed them to stand far enough to run away if something unexpected rushes through once the door in open.
With the color Uma and I created I mark an oval shape on the cliff wall, making sure that it's hidden from direct reach of moonlight. The dead scorn the light, he told me once, that's why in the underworld the only flowers and night bloomers.
Then, I crush into a bowl the dried flowers and light them with a match. The spicy, earthy, smell fills the air around me. I place the bowl in front of the gate- to lead them out.
The last piece of the ritual is rather simply- it's me. I take my blade to my palm and make a cut across it, clutching and flexing it to force the blood to flow.
I place my palm on my would be door and reach out.
This time I find the threads of magic around me immediately. The connection is so instantaneous I wonder how the hell did it take me so long to establish. I grin to myself.
Maybe it's like one of those doors that once you have seen once- you will never miss again.
I reach out further, deeper, following thread after thread as I try to find my home, my kingdom, the underworld.
I follow from my threads, my body, my mind. My blood- into the cliff. From the cliff I follow deeper and deeper. Layers upon layers of ground and soil. I keep the scent of the burning flowers and the pain in my palm as my anchors to my body and this part of the world as I travel deeper and deeper into the earth. I follow underground rivers and the boil of the earth under my feet.
"Come to me" I whisper "show me the way home. Come to me. Come to your queen"
And the threads lead on. Deeper. Until there is nowhere deeper to go. And there they are.
"What queen?"
I hear a croaking voice in the darkness. An ancient ,dry, thing that echoes in a space much larger than this.
I open my eyes.
In front of me, the door is open. The cliff's wall is gone and I can clearly see a room somewhere else. But I am not quite sure if it's the underworld. It doesn't look like anything my father has ever described. There is no river of souls, no looming towers, no castle. It's look like nowhere.
It may sounds like I am describing a place that is forgotten or empty or unrecognizable (and in a way I am) but it's also- simply not a place. I can't see any features of the room. If it is a room. I can't see anything but a vast endless purple haze.
The women… no. the creatures in front of me are dark, monstrous and old. They are as old as time and maybe older. The small one, a fat purple shaded thing, stares at me with a single large eye. The others are looking at me with dark gaping holes in their faces, and I have no doubt they can see me just as clearly. After all- they already have.
"The fates" I whisper.
I can't believe they are here.
Clotho the spinner, Lachesis the weaver, and Atropos the cutter. They were there before the gods and they will be there long after. They will be here to turn up the chairs and switch of the light on the universe after everything that ever was has perished. They are without end and without beginning. My own father feared and respected them as he sleeked their counsel. And now they are here- talking to me.
Honestly I am feeling a little star struck.
"H,hello" I stammer "I am-"
"Semele" they cut me in unison "we know"
Yeah, I should have known that they would. I assume that there is no reason to introduce myself or my crew any further so I just stand there, dumbstruck as I try to figure out what to say that they do not already know. Try to outsmart fate. Nice one Semele.
"You called" the short one says impatiently
"Well I tried to call-"
"An army, we know" says the tall one, I am not sure which one is which "a bit presumptuous of you".
It feels like a scolding from a teacher and I am not entirely sure how I found myself in this position so I stand straighter and say coolly "I am the queen of the underworld. They are mine to command". I sound way more sure than I actually am. I wonder if my father would have been proud. The fates, however, don't seem impressed.
They grin wickedly. It's a horryfying smile full of rotting teeth still sharp enough to tear flesh and skin.
"Do the dead know?" asks the short one with wicked delight.
"I- what?"
"The lord of the underworld is dead, it is true" says the middle one in something that might just be an honest attempt at softness
"We know child" says the tall one "because we know everything" she adds as she reaches with terrifying long talons into her sister's eye socket and retrieves the eye for herself. It take a great measure of self restraint. The middle one grunts in disapproval and with a swift movement snatches the eye back before her sister can set it to rest in her socket.
"but you have lived among the living all your life" she says her she turns the shared eye to look at me "how are the dead to know?"
I stare at them, dumbstruck, as I try to think of a good answer.
How were the dead to know? Did I assume that just because the title was free it will belong to me automatically? Or that the lands of the dead, who stood without a king for nineteen years, will randomly know that their rightful king is dead and they now belong o his daughter. The fact I thought it would be this simple infuriates me. I clutch my fists are frustration only to be reminded of the open cut is my palm. I suck in a sharp breath in pain and, to my annoyance it seems to amuse the fates. Their eyes (or… lack of) are staring right at me and they cackle in delight.
I am angry and frustrated enough that their laugh makes me want to cut the connection, but I still need some answered. So I let out a long breath to calm down my nerves and ask in my calmest, sweetest voice
"Ladies" I start "my fate is in your hands as is everyone's. What am I to do now?"
Their smiles, already wide and menacing, widen even further. It's a grotesque sight that would probably haunt my dreams that night.
"You seek a kingdom which is not yours yet" says the tall one
"If you want a throne you should come and claim it" says the middle one.
I look at the short one, she who could, if she thought me worthy, tell me my future. Her smirk is wide but her lips, so it would seem, are sealed.
"How do I get there?" I ask them.
"Stupid girl" says the tall one in frustration "you are wearing the map around your neck".
"My neck, what do you-" my fingers reach up and find the locket around my neck, the same locket that hasn't come off once since harry put it there yesterday. How was it a map?
"Come home and claim your crown little princess" says the short one mockingly "we will wait for you in the underworld"
"Why?" I find myself asking. It's not in their nature to be kind or giving, why would they bother to leave their home for me?
"They don't answer. Instead they laugh wickedly as the portal start to close in front of me.
"Wait!" I yell "how will I read the map?!"
"Try the starlight" says the middle one "your mother missed it when she was underground"
And with a final cruel whole of laughter, the portal snaps shut. And I am left of the beach- staring at the cliff's wall.
"So" says Uma as we sit later around the fire "you are not actually the queen of the underworld"
"Not yet" I say "not unless I go there and claim it. If I do that then I will be"
There is silence around the fire as we weighed our options. After the ritual was over and the portal closed I collapsed on the send, dropping t my knees with the exhaustion on holding a gateway to such a far off place for so long. The others brought me back in the cave and re-lit the fire. I told them all that the fates told me.
"I'm sorry Uma" I murmur. I can see the disappointment in her eyes as she stares into the flames. She went to the beach armed to the teeth and ready to wake war tonight. Instead she got another restless night in the cave that must hold nothing but feelings of bitter failure to her.
"It's not your fault" she sighs "you couldn't have known"
Her remark should make me feel better- but it doesn't. A part of me is aching for an argument, yearning for it. I want someone to lash at me and tell me it was absolutely pathetic just so I could scream at them that it's not my damn fault that my father kept such a vital piece of information to himself. I feel like frustration in coiling in me like a living thing. Frustration at myself for not doing better, at the fates for being too annoyingly cryptic, at my father for preparing me all my life but not preparing me enough at the same time. Anger is sleeping beast inside my belly and that if I don't let it out soon it will eat me whole. But now is not a good time. We are still in enemy territory.
"So what do we do now?" asks Gill. He and Harry look to Uma and me. Neither of us has an answer.
"Well we could go claim Sem's throne" says Harry. He is fidgeting with his pocket watch as he leans on the cave wall. I look to him in blunt surprise and he shrugs "you do want to go there don't ya?"
I do. More than anything. I want to see my father's home. As terrifying as it is I want to meet the fates face to face and try to wring more answers out of them. I want to go so badly I can almost feel the threads of magic pulling at my heart to go.
But I don't dare ask it of them. Such a diversion of the journey might take weeks and achieve little. After all our work to make such a wild detour seems absurd.
Uma looks to me "can I see that thing?" she asks and reaches with an open palm. I don't need to ask what she means. I take of the locket and hand it to her.
"Fancy" she says as the turns is gently in her hands "but sure don't look like a map"
"My dad made it so my mom could find her way home. It says so on the bottom, look" I turn the jewel in her hand to show her the inscription "the fates said something about starlight"
"Starlight?" asks Uma. I shrug in response. With restrained frustration she hands it back to me. I take it back and inspect it again.
"They said my mom missed the starlight when she was underground" I grunt.
"Did they tell you any specific constellations?" she tries, her mind going immediately to the same thing I thought- that it must me some sort of a star map.
"No, I think actual, non cryptic, answers are not really their style" I click on the crown of the fruit to open the locket. Inside is the picture of my parents on one side and the mirror on the other.
I look at them both, studying every detail, almost expecting the picture to speak and tell me what to do and where to go… he was good enough at doing that in life after all.
"Starlight" I mumble. I brush my thumb softly over the mirror. It's a reflective surface, damaged slightly with stains and scratches but still clear as crystal. It's made of a material I don't recognize- black and smooth and cold to the touch. I suppose the reason I thought of it as mirror despite the odd color it reflects my features back to me clearly. Golden eyes are staring back at me from it.
An idea strikes me out of nowhere and I jump to my feet at once.
"What's wrong?" asks Harry, his hand flies to his hook. He clearly interpreted my sudden movement wrongly and his first thought is that we are under attack. He is immediately ready to gut anything that might come into the cave.
I shake my head "just hold a moment" I say distractedly. I walk to the mouth of the cave, looking around until I find a hidden spot that has a clear view of the sky. When I find a good spot to stand, I open a locket again and turn it towards the sky- mirror facing the stars.
As first, nothing happens. The mirror reflects the night's sky and the constellations as clearly as it does anything else. I sigh, thinking I might have misunderstood the fate's clue
When suddenly the mirror come alive.
It still reflects the star, but now it multiplies them, creating an image that is as deep and dark as the ocean. It reflects more stars then there actually are in the sky right now, and when it runs out of space in itself it actually pours them out.
"Uma" I cry "Harry! Gill! Come quick!"
"What is it?" asks Uma. She is by my side in an instant.
"It's doing something" I mumble, so at awe with the mirror in the hand to contemplate the idiocy of my comment.
The others crowd around my and we all stare at the little ornament, as in reflects the night skies and spits it out. Tiny reflections of stars arrange themselves in mid air in front of the mirror, swirling around in a mesmerizing tempest of silvery light.
They keep spinning around as more and more specks of light join their numbers, until there is a little cloud of shimmering dots hovering in my hand. They dance around for another moment until, suddenly, they stop, as slowly as they emerged; they arrange themselves in a pattern. At first it makes no sense at all until finally, as promised, I can make out a map. A map of her beloved stars to guide her home. Who know my father was such a romantic?
The isle, Auradon, the rest of the ocean and the land, they are all clear and shimmering as they hover above my open palm.
A single red stars is twinkling on the shore of Auradon "that's us" I whisper
"So that would mean that this" says Uma as she points at another purple shades dot "is the underworld". It's far. But not unreachable.
We stare at the map for a moment that feels like eternity. I have no doubt that Uma already maps in her head the implications of the journey suggested by the map of star in my hand. I look to her, trying to net let the pleading and hope show as I await her decision. She is my captain and as such she should prefer the mission above all else. But she is also my cousin and my friend… I dare not hope and yet.
Finally she lets out a big sigh and gestures to her first mate to come closer
"What do you think?" He muses, casually leaning his elbow on her shoulder in a gesture of fondness and familiarity.
"I think" she sighs "that we are going to need a bigger boat".
Authors note!
I know I know this one took ages...
truth is it was good and ready to go but I am a bit stuck with the one after the next.
I WILL FINISH THIS FIC!
srsly I've seen a show about Hades and Persephone i a fringe festival yesterdy and it made me all sparkly eyed about greek mythology again so yeah...