PART 7: LIGHT
WHERE THE CURSED BELONG
Ahead of me was this endlessly dark... let's call it a pit.
I had no idea of how I had came there, but I realized I wasn't sleeping – barely conscious, perhaps, but still awake. My motions were like normal, not in the speed of light, like in the dream which determined my fate with the one I feared of losing so, but whose face I couldn't remember anymore. Nothing more I could see than that endless pit which seemed like my only option. I feared to approach it, and now, as I thought about it, it felt like something was pulling me closer to the edge, like a million pairs of invisible hands pushed me from behind. I closed my eyes and shook my head, staring at my feet – in the darkness they were invisible, so it was impossible to tell was I moving or not, but the less I thought about it, the more it helped. I was probably about to sigh, but almost tripped over of fear, hearing something.
It was like a whisper, almost like the hiss of some reptile, and it grew louder all the time – until it suddenly stopped, and a cold breeze blew over me. I didn't dare to look up; I gazed left and right, saw nothing.
The shouting came back. It was almost like someone was swearing there, millions of swears even more terrible than all the curses I had ever said aloud put together. Clonking, this noise which reminded me of old water pipes struggling they didn't fall apart. Like someone was scratching metal against metal... Tartarus was the freakiest zoo in the universe.
What was I doing there? This wasn't where I belonged, and the last time I had seen a ray of sun seemed like a million years ago. I had all the time thought my dream was more of a nightmare, but it still had the light which kept me from opening my eyes, but now that it was gone, there was no return, and waking up was impossible. How many times had Ivan told me about Tartarus – the bottom pit of the whole universe, the place for someone or something so evil, it unchained would be the end right there and right then. Why I was seeking for my father from a place like this? The only ones trapped here were the Titans and a couple of possessed guys a 1000 times eviler than Hitler. That kind of evil was inherited, and if my father was one of those guys, I'd have already either killed myself, lie in prison or blown the camp up. Those were actually very little to the something I would have really done.
Closing my ears from the voices wrapping around me like a clutching fist, I started to memorise all the things ever happened to me – to forget the reality and escape to long-gone summers, even winters and rainy days, anything to fly away from here.
"I can see him in you... Though he faces these worlds in endless sleep, his spirit lives through you."
Hades words were like a riddle to me. Though I had always been good in solving them, this one seemed impossible – only for the reason I couldn't say anything about Morpheus, more than he was the god of dreams. I didn't yet even understand how Zeus and Hades had claimed me, and by this mission to nowhere I was sent because of Hades had doomed me. Hades still couldn't believe my words, and neither I would – the only thing proving this was this theory I had been developing since what happened with Titus. I had always believed I had murdered him, I had murdered even all those animals and snakes and birds, chased all life away with my deadly aura. But I guess Ivan saw it too, my nature and the look in my eyes, how I wasn't a murderer, how they only lie in... deep sleep.
This was the time for my decision; to prove who I really was, to find my way out from where I didn't belong. In the skies the Lord of the Universe was probably scanning through the layers of the earth, his eyes trying to stalk me here further from home than ever, but I was covered with a dark haze, and no prayer could save me now.
I turned around seeking for my salvation. I searched for a way out, but it was too dark to see anything except the bottomless pit of Tartarus. I couldn't move closer or further, and only imagining what would lie in that darkness made my head spin and gave me the cold shivers.
There seemed to be this odd light glimmering, which revealed me that darkness within darkness. My gaze moved everywhere, but nothing I could see; I only heard how something seemed to be growling down there, like they sensed me coming and hated me so. I closed my eyes and let a silent sigh – I bet no-one except a maniac thought of it the way I did, but I actually wished to see what was down there and tell them I wasn't there to interrupt their peace, but how crazy would that be? Evil never listened to anybody, it was a force of its own, using foolish kids like me as their instruments of power on their way for their vengeance on mankind. If I'd say hello the Titus-way to any Titan, I'd be either possessed by their spirit or blackmailed to send some nasty surprises to the gods in no time. I was the most miserable, the most mad demigod ever faced a decision like this. So heroic I almost had to hurrah for me.
Only looking at that huge pit, only thinking of it made my will to go closer larger. The growling grew larger, and I started to think about everything else than it – then I heard a voice like someone would have winched, but it didn't come out of the pit. Suddenly I knew the growling neither came fully from the pit – the echo was different...
A wind blew over my head again. I didn't know what I had against watching up – maybe it was some childhood trauma from this trailer of an R-rated ghost film with some ghost circling a chandelier in the ceiling, but this time I dared to raise my gaze. I had never actually seen a ghost up there, so it was time for me to master my fear – and I saw nothing.
The breeze though, it kept on blowing. I tried to figure out the direction it came from, and there was no else option than Tartarus, but for an odd reason I felt it didn't come from down there. So I raised my gaze and looked at the roof above the pit, like wishing to see a hole to the upper world.
That was of course impossible there, as this was the deepest of hell. But I just couldn't deny the fact there was something up there, and thinking of it, I guess I saw it, too. The light which shone on Tartarus seemed to be a reflection from a mirror hanging up in the ceiling – high above, so high I couldn't believe it, a celestial bronze plate, like a gigantic cauldron. Instinctively I moved a little closer, looking only up, and now I could feel the emptiness coming closer, the black hole in the bottoms of Tartarus. I wished for me having something to keep me on my feet, like the footballer shoes Thalia had, but no – so I only concentrated deeply to something so simple even a mortal could do; not falling down.
My breath turned shallow as I came to the edge of the bottomless pit. Now I could see it clearly, the plate hanging from the ceiling. I was sure the growling and winching had to come out of there – what kind of beast was trapped like that, there? Listening to the voices clearly... they sounded almost like snoring. The plate shone almost black as it reflected the nothing down there, and looking at it nearly made me trip over – the sounds of Tartarus turned sharper. The lost one falls here seeking for the lost god, hm? I was sure I heard someone whisper, but it came from the depths, and it wasn't English – something older, and I could understand it, but almost like... ancient.
I shuddered and stared up. Still unaware of what was my exact mission, that one single plate there sorta fascinated me, and nothing more I thought of than climbing up there. But there was no possible way, and even though I was a demigod, I couldn't fly or anything. I searched my pockets for anything which would help me climbing, but I had nothing than my golden watch and a back of drachmae - neither was any use there. I thought of my friends – Ivan, who could maybe use his shadow travel, Marié, who was a daughter of Hermes – and probably had some tricks up in her sleeve, Pruce, whose powers were more awesome I had ever seen on any demigod.
Gracie.
Gracie had her gadgets; her nunchuk-necklace, her anklets and ringlets. I knew the one around her left arm morphed into a shield and the one around the right could morph into about anything, but I also knew she had one in her ankle; a ring she could morph into a rope – I had seen her take it out before, but never use it. More than ever I needed it now.
In desperation, the voices from the pit spoke to me again. The lost god... he is fading.
And then another voice began; but she must succeed, to fulfil what will prove their existence – and vengeance on the glorious...
How crazy was I then? Hearing voices in my head. The growling had faded to almost nothing compared to those two speaking then, but yet I couldn't tell what those down somewhere meant – the second voice had said something about them, but I didn't know what it was supposed to point at; the existence has to be proven... I swallowed and closed my eyes.
I honestly didn't know what happened then. It was like I was falling into a dream again, and the first thing I knew I did in my dream... I jumped.
I probably took the words the lost one falls here seeking for the lost god too literally, because I literally fell; I only remembered how the growling faded to nothing and the wind in my ears turned so strong I felt like freezing – my brain froze, I fell into nothing. Everything around me was simply black, and I knew the voices came closer, their whispers hungrier. A hand seemed to be reaching out to me from the blackness, but suddenly the scenery around me seemed to shatter, like I was jumping through a window – the blackness fell apart like glass. And then... I saw Gracie.
She stood on the edge of a huge chasm, the size of a freakin' city. All alone in the dark, she kneeled down to the edge, like she wished to see her reflection from what she imagined as water, or that's what it seemed like. Soon it was noticeable she didn't kneel only because of kneeling, but she took something from her ankle – a golden ringlet, which morphed into a rope from the snap of her fingers, and in lightning speed she was there again standing, her gaze fixed to a golden plate hanging from the ceiling of the cave.
There hung four hooks from the edges of the plate, one on each side. I saw how Gracie took out something which looked like a golden stick, stuck it to the ground and tied the rope around it, throwing the other edge up to where my gaze didn't reach.
When I woke up I noticed there were tears in my eyes; the reason was unknown to me, but even the fact I was still there depressed me so I felt like my whole world was nothing than a sea of sorrow.
But where I found me wasn't the depth of Tartarus, in the clutches of something even worse than a million monsters and a situation worse than death. I stared left, at the place where I had imagined Gracie. But she wasn't there anymore – the golden rope alone dangled from the plate in the ceiling. I wondered where she had gone, had she fallen too?
I took hold of the rope and prayed to every god I could, but mainly to my father, to tell me why and because I was in this dream, why I couldn't wake up, a big why. Still a fear of Gracie in my mind, I took hold of the rope, and that second the growling stopped, like I had awoken the monster.
I let go in horror. A second I stood there, waiting for it to begin again, and with a winch, I took hold of the rope, clutching my both legs around it like I was wishing for a big hug, tugging, I started climbing. I didn't know how long it took or for what I did it, but in the end I knew one thing; I wasn't dead.
Arriving there I noticed how the rope hung loose in the other end, where Gracie had tied it. I was unbelievably high – still somewhere in the middle of the cave, because the ground was so much lower than me and the ceiling so much higher.
"Oh my... Olympus."
I bet the monsters in the depths didn't like it – the whispers grew that second so loud I almost wished I had bullets in my ears like Gracie did. But it was exactly how I felt that second, seeing what was there, inside that golden cauldron, on which edge I sat.
All snuggled up, thus taking over ¾ of the plate (which was pretty huge, thinking of it) snoring so loud and so hard it was heard down there as growling and felt as a breeze, there lay a figure. But it wasn't a monster, or... I couldn't tell what I was thinking then. I only stared at the sleeping god unbelievingly, my jaw probably down at my chest or something. He was tall, shabby and... tired. His orange hair reached over his shoulders, even longer than mine and a wild stubble grew on his chin. He wore this knee-length leather jacket like some teenage goth, and a baby blue bonnet. The Sandman.
My eyes were like the size of plates then. I couldn't just believe it – the god of Dreams, trapped over Tartarus, for a crime I didn't know.
There the whole universe seemed to stop. It was only me and that sleeping Sandman, only that plate hanging high over hell. And we were so missing, but still so safe; but why was Morpheus asleep?
I rose my finger very carefully. The plate started to swing from direction to direction as I moved, so I only reached my finger very high, poking Morpheus straight in the eye.
He was fully asleep.
His snoring blew the hair off my face so it almost parted. How I could ever wake him up? If he and I were related at all I'd say he'd never wake up unless he wanted to; I could sleep like that for days, but rarely did it. I wished I'd know some myths of Morpheus, but the only myth even close to it was the myth of freakin' Orpheus, and they had as much in common as a cat and a teapot.
Leaning over to him my gaze stopped to my watch. I had this crazy idea then, sorta like the one Marié had when she sent the snakes after me, but... why not? The poison I had in my drug-needle wasn't deadly, it only put to sleep for a while. Morpheus would sleep for all eternity if I'd keep on poking him with it, but right then it felt the only option, unless I'd want to dump over the whole plate so we'd fall to the pits of Tartarus to visit those two hungry voices which almost had me. The dream still brought the tears to my eyes.
Turning my head, I snapped the button on my morph-watch and felt it melt to the shape of my needle in seconds. Winching and praying for my father to not take this as an offense, I struck it into his left arm.
The silence scared me, and I turned around. A pair of tired, deep, hazel eyes matched with my gaze.
"What is this dream?"
I shuddered listening to his voice. I knew it wasn't because it freaked me out, but it was somehow familiar – like listening to some song lastly heard like a 10 years ago; it stays in memory, though heard rarely.
I swallowed, sorta smiling after my sentence. "A... dream, within a dream, within a million other dreams."
"And in a world like ours, reality is so very hard to tell."
I saw I held the drug-needle still in my hand, and embarrassed, I was already putting it away, but then the god of Dreams came in the way, snatching it from me like stealing a lollipop from a kid.
"This is masterfully crafted work. I believe this is the makings of Hephaestus, am I right?"
"It... that..." I stammered – gods, I didn't even know how to speak anymore. "Her name is Gracie."
"Gracie? I know many of that name."
I stared at him straight in the eyes. It was so very... odd; we didn't even know each other, but still we spoke of stuff like my drug-needle, though that'd be the last person a guy waking from a 10 year coma would do. He gave my needle back to me, and I morphed it to a watch – there was a strange light in the god's eyes.
"I almost believed the prophecy would never come true."
He sighed, but very silent; in sleep he made the racket of a cursed elephant, awake silent like a cicada at daytime. That brought to my mind everything I had ever wondered of, and now I knew it was due the god of Dreams, even my second name. Cicada, a loud insect of the night.
"It is your turn. How did you come up with that idea? The venom of those certain snakes is perfect for an antidote – especially for one spell as powerful as this."
"I..." and then suddenly, I turned very silent. My father gazed at me waiting, and as I took a deep breath, I explained everything from since Hades' last words, and I guess Morpheus understood nothing more than Hades' name, because when he heard it, the earth shook so the plate we were hanging in almost turned upside-down, and I felt sorta drowsy.
I had a bad feeling about it. "Don't say... you put the whole damn world asleep, right?"
Morpheus smiled. "Only half of the Underworld, young heroine. You seem to resist my spell quite well, almost too well."
I wrinkled my eyebrows. "Don't you still know-"
Morpheus laid his hand on my shoulder, and suddenly I felt as calm as if I would be only asleep, not in dream. "I know lots. But Ash... she is unforgettable. It isn't hard to recognize a daughter of her, listening to the speech of one. She called this so often a damn world."
A crooked smile spread on my face. I had always kinda thought of that expression – I had been using it since I was a kid, and thinking of how my mum had used the same expressions as me when I was little... it was hard, but sorta easy to imagine.
"Awful to say, I hate this situation. I am weary, Eleanor. This..." he tapped the tip of his chin, his wild stub, with one of his fingers, "Wasn't here before."
My brain had sorta registered the fact my father called me with my whole name, this name I hated so – but listening to him call me that, it sounded almost beautiful. Only he could say it the right way; the Greek way. I still hated it, though, I didn't deny it. And I hated Morpheus, too, for leaving me so, but still loved him – the way I had done with Titus. But this time, I wouldn't let him go.
"Father..." I sighed, leaning over to examine his long, orange hair, which had probably been shorter before. "What did Hades speak about? Of you facing this world in endless sleep... What have you done to deserve a fate like this?"
He took hold of one, thick bunch of his hair, which drooped the second his hand touched it. "You seem to have inherited something of mine... but though my memory is hazy, I can tell, that your hair wasn't that color at birth."
I huffed. "I know. But why... why can't you tell me?"
"Tell you what? I can't remember anything of the past years. I have been dreaming my life away, sleeping to die. So long it has all been mist to me."
"How long?"
Morpheus took a great pause. There, a place with nothing more than blackness and a plate of celestial bronze, I couldn't tell time, and in a place like that, everything seemed so very slow.
"Yes... the second Titan War. It remains too sharp in my mind, though those years I wish to erase. And they... they wished to erase the existence of me."
"Do you mean... the Half-Blood Heroic War?"
Morpheus grumbled, so the plate shook. "Another of these fashion names! They ruin the original meanings. Oh... this darkness is nothing compared to the one blurring the minds of those warriors, that time. It all seemed so simple – a couple of half-bloods and an old centaur, that's it – against an army of so many, even the Titans. I am too young of a god to remember the first war; but this one seemed like one extraordinary – this time the gods couldn't win. And those others, caring for the safety of us half-bloods, for the safety of the world, we chose the wrong side."
"What did you do?"
"Something I wish you will never be able to do. There was this prophecy; you shall face the world in endless sleep. I... didn't put the whole world asleep; it would be a catastrophe, but year 2005, New York was in a deep slumber. I didn't care for how the Titans would do, how the gods would do. I only wished this world wouldn't fall; so many would die for no reason."
My expression darkened, and I gazed into the black emptiness, right over Morpheus' right shoulder. "That's not even wrong... this punishment... they didn't throw even Nemesis here, though she was on the same side as you – why you?"
Morpheus sighed. "Sometimes Zeus has his dark days, too. I woke up New York, yes, but the spell... let's say it backfired. So few know of this, but whole Olympus fell asleep due that. The powers ruling this world... they never really sleep. If they do, they find themselves a substitute, and during the Winter Solstice, the most important day of the year... it's not a very good time, then."
I blinked my eyes a couple of times. Had I just heard it right? But didn't the war take place in summer? That was one of the little amount of events I actually could remember. When did the spell actually backfire?
"The 21'st of December, 2012."
I shook my head. "No way! And how... did you know? Chiron does that all the time. Reads my thoughts."
Morpheus laughed, but silent, because that'd draw some attention, for sure. He knew me well, and we hadn't ever even lived together. He was wonderful – though he had never seen me before, he had sneaked into my mother's dreams, seen a baby with pitch-black hair and a flat nose like I had rolled of my bed and crashed into some wall. (It wasn't Morpheus' nose – darn.) He had never been able to read anyone's mind, even my mother's. No god could read minds except Apollo, and those ones who knew things, they only made guesses; they could read our faces.
Now I think I even understood Ivan. He had probably been testing Chiron, the immortal centaur who thought he knew everything – but in the end he had only been guessing everything. That was a skill to brag off, if to say. Like a sixth sense.
"That year was all haze to me... I only could tell... well, my hair changing colour."
Morpheus maybe would have blushed, but in that dark I couldn't really see anything except his funky bonnet. "Yes... many do that, in the age of twelve. Actually only few change their hair color – you are the only one I know. That must've happened on your birthday? I... sent it sort of as a gift."
"Why? All the perverts started chasing me then!"
Gods, I sounded offended.
"I knew this was coming soon; the spell backfired seven years from the war; it is a long time. But it came back stronger than before, and that solstice, even Hades and Persephone took part. So I willed to tell you something before my punishment, as I knew it would be taken as an offence. Zeus is a drama queen, let's say."
We both laughed then, but Morpheus only shortly, turning dead silent, lowering his weary head.
"Dreams are everything we ever seek for, Eleanor. They are of the most wonderful gifts of gods given to mankind. But though they are a great escape, no-one should dream their life away; only live a dream."
"But what is this? There is a real life, some place where everything which should be possible is possible, not anything more. There have been so many dreams within, I can't tell what is real anymore."
Morpheus gave me a downcast smile. "Yes... this is a dream."
I took a deep breath, clutching my fists. "Then I don't want to wake up."
"You never have to, Eleanor. You can live the life even without your eyes closed, without fear. How many of the wonders in your life have happened in a dream? These dreams... they go on after opening your eyes, even when you are awake. You are meant to dream in this world. I am meant to dream this world."
"I don't want you to stay here. Hades... he can go to Tartarus himself. He can't keep you here forever."
"No," Morpheus interrupted me, holding my hand in his palms. "I am here until time comes. And Eleanor, why would you see me awake, if this wouldn't be a dream?"
I feared to turn my gaze or close my eyes, because then I would wake up, instantly.
"You were here to solve out something. To find the reason. You are not here to wake me up, bring light to somewhere, where it will never belong. Tell this to the world; so they wouldn't be missing anybody."
I understood Morpheus. Maybe he deep, down inside knew even of me and Titus; the one I had lost, due I had only been dreaming. I had never before known it, but now I did. If I would only sleep the sunny days and starlit nights, without waking up ever, only because I thought I was better off somewhere else, I would only stay, until the day I would be carried away, to a world so different I could never understand it. I would be so wrong. No-one was better in a dream. It would all be a lie.
"I... I need to return. The daughter of Iris..."
"Iris?" I heard Morpheus say, and this time, his voice was different, like he spoke to me from beneath the surface. "It has been long since..."