17.1
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"Diana, I am in your debt" gasps Egeria, coughing and breathless in the dust. "You should not have placed yourself in danger for my benefit."
Diana coils the Lasso of Hestia and returns it to her side.
"We are as one. Each of us must care for the others."
Back to back the three women arrange themselves in skirmish position, expecting the onslaught of demonic forces certain to attack. But there is nothing more to battle. As inexplicably as they had arrived, the evils of Hades had vanished, drawn back into Tartarus or everlasting inferno or whatever abyss from which they had emerged. While the amorphous grey shapes remained, rising not from beneath the ground but forming the surface, itself; these did not attack nor appear to present any danger. Surely they constituted a presence; but what, or who these shapes were was not known.
"Menalippe", Diana spoke while the three continue to stand at each others back, prepared for battle; "do you know of this place? In what part of the Underworld have we arrived?"
"As chronicled in the texts, I believe this to be The Asphodel Meadows. It is the realm of neither the good nor the bad; for all who are sentenced to this impermanence it is a mindless, meaningless endurance meant to remind the dead of all they had forsaken in life. In time, when there is no one remaining alive with memory of these souls, they fade away as if they had never existed."
"Do you think we will...find Steve in this place?"
"You say he died selflessly. If this is also how he lived his life, the Judges of the Underworld may favor him to dwell in Elysium, the realm of heroes."
"A lair; a murder; and a smuggler", Diana remembers. As Etta had said, perhaps these actions were only done for a higher good?
"No, Steve would not be here. He was a good man. We must seek the realm of Elysium. That is where we will find Steve."
Cautiously the three begin to move apart, each looking for dangers seen and unseen; vigilant yet growing in familiarity of their surroundings.
Egeria offers: "And we cannot avoid Hades, himself", tentatively testing the pulsating surface with her spear; "If we seek Him out, present our gifts and explain our purpose perhaps he will allow us to complete our mission and return without interference." In reaction forms reach out only to quickly recede; seemingly not as a threat but in submission.
"Yes, that is unavoidable. Diana, do you have your offering?"
"At my side. I trust in the gods that it has withstood the journey."
"You have not confirmed its worth?"
"The offering is fragile and easily lost. I have taken every precaution. I am certain it is suitable."
There is little use lecturing her now, Menalippe resolves. "Then we must proceed. The texts do not describe where the throne of Hades can be found; only that, in the Underworld, he may be anywhere and everywhere. I believe he will prefer to remain where there is the greatest suffering; therefore we must descend into the furthest reaches. Ahead the ground seems to rise; from there we can overlook a greater area."
And the three move ahead, each within her own purpose: To seek; to assure; to defend. Each carefully measures her gait and tests each footstep; for as they walk the ground flows and changes, sometimes taking the shape and form of an easily-traveled path; yet with another step as mushy and viscid as a primeval bog. Frequently the soundness beneath one foot is betrayed by the fluidity beneath the other, a disturbing disconnect in which the placement of every step is questioned as the women stumble and fall, growing ever more insecure of the shapeless morass. Despite the earlier debate of who will lead and who will follow, that concern quickly becomes irrelevant as the Amazons trudge forward, more often assisting one another side-by-side than proceeding in file.
Suddenly Menalippe disappears from view, falling not as by gravity but compelled by force, the surface around them changing from unwieldy globs of protoplasm that rise but quickly fall in response to their footsteps into a chaos undulating and bursting forth in violence and passion. The surrounding forms no longer shapeless but taking on the image of men and women; or the partiality of men and women; some nearly fully-formed; others arms, or hands, or faces only; many flowing between the contours of head, body and face – at times together, melting and spouting from one to another; or grotesque with multiple heads and numerous arms. Their only constant the gnashing, grating teeth within mouths opened as to yell but without sound; moaning, crying and wailing originating not from the beings themselves but invading from throughout the realm; and the endless hands reaching outward, grasping at the womens feet and legs and clothing; pulling them downward even as Diana and Egeria slash and slice and sever.
"Menalippe!" Diana calls into the depths, seeing nothing of her Aunt but a slightly risen, undulating surface where Menalippe had last stood.
Egeria speared one, two, four beings at once even as she cut down others by sword. "Diana, can you reach down and pull her free? I will fight off these...things while you search." But for each creature rendered in half, three more surged upward. Diana, striking by the Sword of Zeus with one hand even as she sought for her aunt with her other, severed attackers cleanly but these did not perish but flowed into the whole, joining the mass to rise again – for how can anything in the land of the dead once again be killed? Quickly Diana, also, found herself pulled downward, fingers strong yet without substance ripping at her skirt, tearing against her legs; her hand cast into the tangle in search of Menalippe finding not her Aunt but the formless grip of collective souls seeking her downfall.
Within a moment Menalippe bursts forth to the left of her niece, appearing worn and battered from her unseen combat but eyes intense with determination. Knives flashing brightly even in this land of shadow, within two arced slashes she carves the grasping limbs overpowering Diana, splitting them from their mass and freeing her companion. Gaining her own stance, Menalippe attacks with all her furor, joining Diana and Egeria in fighting off these beings which both cannot die and are never-ending. Within the throbbing forms Diana begins to see shapes which appear familiar; but cannot be. The Germans she killed in the War; Amazons – her sisters – lost on the beach; innocent villagers choking from gas in the fields of Belgium; faces known but unknown; briefly, but clearly, the forms even take on the image of Steve. "These beings...these things...are they all that continues of the dead that have fallen by my hand? I am responsible for their fate? Is this suffering due to me?" But she must continue to strike them down even as she questions her actions. Beside her, Egeria hesitates for no known reason; carefully targeting only a few specific creatures while others she disregards; or even, it appears, attempts to protect. Yet all continue to pull and lash, draining the warriors strength. Menalippe, also, wavers, frozen for a moment while she is once again drawn into the depths. Despite their strongest efforts, all three grow weakened and dazed; without hope; beyond expectation. In fighting an infinite enemy, the fight is never fair. An endless battle grants no victors.
A spear surges from above, connecting with the covetous shadows enveloping Menalippe and severing from their bulk the grasping shapes which...immediately shrivel and sputter, not to rise again.
"Never let your guard down!"
A sheaf of arrows soar into the fight, each directed toward that enemy which is most threatening; every bolt finding its target which, again, fade and topple.
"You expect the battle to be fair?!"
In a flash of radiant ivory-orange, a figure appears yielding in each hand a sword, sweeping and arcing within the ill-formed void until nothing of the obscenity remains; one warrior shattering that which could not be defeated by the most powerful Amazons.
"The battle will never be fair!"
Exhausted but undefeated, in unity Diana; Menalippe; and Egeria look toward their victor; and as one exclaim:
"Antiope!?"
