It seems that I am constantly apologizing for the length of time it takes me to write and post each chapter. I just want to make sure my writing is flawless, and all plot holes are filled. In this chapter, Athena meets her uncle Hades (Ruler of the Underworld) and the two negotiate. I confess that the "deal-making" trait was borrowed from actor James Woods' ingenious portrayal of Hades in the 1997 animated film Hercules (a film from my childhood that I always liked, despite its mythological inaccuracies). Hopefully, I won't get sued for that. Other than that, I have tried to give an unbiased, villain-free characterization of the Lord of the Underworld (of the three sons of Cronus, Hades is my favorite and probably the smartest) based on the original myths. Any other liberties I have taken with his character and appearance are almost entirely my own. I am also working to correct my use of ancient Greek terms for clothing, so please bear with me. As always, I do NOT own Greek Mythology.

CHAPTER 11

For a moment I am once again in complete darkness. But only for a moment. The next thing I know, I am standing in one of the most unusual rooms I have ever seen. Unlike the rooms on Olympus and in the mortal world, this room is…round. The large torches that flicker cast an unusual light over the room. It is light enough for me to see where I am going yet dark enough for me to see shadows present on the walls.

Another shocking sensation that hits me is that I can hear low gusts of wind blowing softly across the room. Yet I do not feel them billow through my dress or even brush against the veil over my hair and lower face. As I walk into the center of the circular room, the wall opposite me is thrown into sharper relief and I see an even more remarkable sight. Four differently-colored doors with circular overhead arches are carved into the wall ahead of me. Each door stands between a thick black pillar which helps support the cavernous ceiling. The first door is a deep wine red- the color of a good wine. The second door is a dusk-colored purple like the late-night sky. The third door is a deep blue probably darker than Poseidon's deepest ocean. I find myself briefly wondering where these doors lead when my eyes fall upon the fourth and last door. The sight of this door clears my head of the momentary distraction and I feel the sparse hairs on the back of my neck prickle as though shocked by a miniscule version of Zeus' prized lightning bolts. The door is entirely black- the color I now know most mortals associate with death. It is more than likely that Hades' Roster of the Dead is somewhere beyond that door. As strong as my desire is to go through that door- I am aware of another now-familiar feeling just as powerful- fear. Whether it is fear of death itself or my uncle, I do not know. What is clear to me for perhaps the thousandth time is this- I must discover the truth of Karme's fate and somehow make my way back to Dorian's house before morning. Just because time does not exist in the Underworld hardly means that it is the same in the mortal world.

I walk through the black door and am through it before I have time to rethink my policy. The space beyond this door leads to an open recess where I see solid forms shepherding other solid forms up and down the hall. The "shepherds" wear dark black or grey robes and carry long poles which they use to keep the crowd moving in a semi-orderly fashion. I suddenly realize that I will likely need to ask one of these officials where I might find my uncle (having completely forgotten to ask Charon before leaving his grouchy company). Otherwise I might be stuck down here forever.

I seize my opportunity when the end of the line comes into sight and pounce upon one of the unsuspecting guards bringing up the stragglers. The guard looks stunned when I pull him out of formation and drag him over to the side. To my surprise, he is no more than a slight-figured boy, perhaps seventeen or eighteen years of age. His skin is pale, although I do not know whether this is genetic or just environmental. His light blonde hair hangs over his forehead, almost touching his amber-like eyes.

His eyes dart to the retreating figures and I know without a doubt that he is going to scream for help. I quickly clamp my hand over his lips, letting my veil come away from my face. "Do not cry out," I hiss urgently. "I will not hurt you. I just want to know where I might find the Lord of the Dead. I have an urgent message from his niece, the Lady Athena."

The boy's eyes widen, and he makes a squeaky noise. I take my hand off his mouth and wait for him to give me an answer. Instead he lets out an adolescent scream that carries down the hall and bounces off the walls: "Intruder in the Underworld! Intruder in the Underworld! Hellllp!"

Cursing myself for my stupidity, I kick the boy sharply in the shins before pushing him aside and taking off running down the hallway. I do not look back to see if the Underworld guards are following me although I have no doubt that they are. For all I know, that boy's scream might well have carried all the way to Tartarus. Charon had said that the Underworld guards would not stop me from leaving as it is quite clear that I do not belong here. But he never said what they might do to those that they view as intruders! As I run, I silently vow to somehow get my hands on the wretched ferryman and give him a piece of my mind. Several times my peplos gets in the way of my charging feet, causing me to stumble and fall. But I keep going despite the unpleasant feel of blood trickling down my thighs.

My clothes are impeding my flight, so I rip off my outer peplos and hurl it to the side as I run. I do the same with my grey veil and sandals and run faster than I have likely ever run before. Within an unspecified amount of time, I manage to elude my pursuers and find myself in what seems to be a cross between a forest and a lagoon. Although I am not by any means a great nature lover (a fact that constantly pains my aunts Hestia and Demeter), it is impossible not to feel the utter beauty and peaceful atmosphere that lies over this place. Looking up, I do not even see the cavernous ceiling that is present in the other rooms I have seen thus far. In place of the ceiling is a pale grey sky, the kind that is often present on fragile sunny days when rain threatens to fall. As much as I prefer sunshine-filled skies, I admit that the greyness has its own allure- cool, solitary, and mysterious. At most, this sky is likely an illusion Hades conjured up to maybe help him forget the dark dreary place he is forced to call home. The pine trees that make up the forest look picturesque next to the vibrant green grass and the glasslike waterfall that overlooks the lagoon. It is the sight of the waterfall that sharply reminds me of my adventurous escape from the Underworld guards and the injuries sustained in said event.

I am relieved to find that I still possess my satchel, which I failed to realize I was clutching tightly all this time. I sit down next to a tree, open the satchel and pull out a few supplies which I use to create a salve. I use the remaining tatters of my peplos to apply the salve to the scrapes on my legs before rinsing them off with a small vial of water. The sting of the salve is sharp enough to make my eyes water, but only momentarily. I then take a good look at my shoeless feet. As I had surmised earlier, each ankle has fresh angry blisters on the skin and feels slightly sore whenever I put my full weight on the heels. I am therefore forced to tear four long thick strips of cloth from the bottom of my dress and tie them around my feet (two to each foot- one around the heel and the other around the upper and lower sides of the foot).

I have just finished tying the last bandage when I suddenly hear what sounds like a thunderclap. But a thunderclap in the Underworld? My mind has barely voiced the fact before I feel the ground shake beneath my feet. An earthquake, too?

And then I see the cause of this unnatural disaster- a large black three-headed dog who bounds happily towards the waterfall like an overgrown puppy. As his paws collide with the ground, patches of grass are sent flying. With alarm I realize that I am standing almost directly in the enormous beast's path. Forgetting about my blistered feet entirely, I dart up the tree with speed so alarming that I barely experience the climb. Simultaneously, my mind seems to shut out all physical pain (particularly that emanating from my feet). I soon find myself on the highest branch I can reach, and I clutch the bark with all my might, trying to catch breath.

My lungs feel as though they are on fire and my heart is pounding so hard that I feel it might explode into pulpy bits. And on top of everything else, my arms now carry scratches from my quick ascent up the tree. My hair has come undone from its bun and now hangs down to my upper back. I am also pretty sure that my dress is torn in several more places…

As my breathing slows and my heartrate returns to normal, I hear the canine give out another deep thunder-like bark and again I feel the ground tremble as the dog likely bounds over to someone he has just realized is present. Although my line of vision is clouded by the canopy of tree branches below my feet, my hearing remains unimpaired.

The dog's barking has now diminished to a quieter, albeit still heavy, panting. I now hear a new voice, one so unlike any I have ever heard that I do not at first recognize its owner.

"Good boy, Cerberus. Good boy."

The voice is difficult to describe, but I shall do my best. It invokes the image of smoke rising gently from a pile of flaming logs. There is also a solidity about the voice- an awareness of self and the individual's personal role in the world. I am very certain that I know the speaker's identity, but it takes descending a few branches and peeking through the leaves for me to be sure. Even when my suspicion is proved correct, I can barely believe my eyes.

A dark-robed figure is crouching over a sprawled-out Cerberus, undoubtedly in the act of giving the contented canine a belly rub. The newcomer can only be Hades- I recognize him from that one time on Olympus when I saw him conversing with Hestia- but he seems different now. From what my limited mortal vision can see, the Lord of the Underworld looks…happy?

I may not be as familiar with Hades as I am with the other members of my family, but that hardly means I lack an impression of him. Ever since I can remember, my father's eldest brother has been like a shadow one likes to keep at bay. It is likely because of his association with the dead- that state of decay so abhorrent to mortals and gods alike- that makes him an unwelcome figure to behold. But Hades does not look grim and macabre now as he engages with Cerberus and scratches behind each of the large dog's ears. Although I am too far overhead to see his face properly, I have no doubt that my uncle is smiling.

The stillness of the moment is shattered when I feel the branch beneath my feet snap and before I know it, I am spread-eagled on the ground with a new pain probably in between my ribs. It is entirely possible that I am overreacting to the amount of small injuries I have received since setting foot in the Underworld, but this is the proverbial "last straw." I silently vow in future to leave all such dangerous activity to those mortals who call themselves 'heroes.' It is a wonder that I have not broken my neck!

I am so preoccupied with my inner rantings and self-scolding that I fail to notice just how much noise my crash made. The sound of low growling brings me back to my current situation and I gingerly raise my head to find the dog Cerberus (or rather, his three heads extending from his stretched-out neck) standing about ten stones' throws away from my body. All his eyes are fixed upon me and every one of his mouths reveals bared teeth. And that is not all that is facing me. My dreaded uncle- the Lord of the Underworld himself- is standing right next to his hound's lowered heads, staring down at me. Until now I had forgotten that gods tower over mortals in height; now I realize what a terrifying experience it can be.

If I could run, I would run. If I could scream, no power in the world would be able to silence me. But I can do neither of these things, so I just lie prostrate (head included) on the ground and try very hard not to give in to the terror that is coursing through my body like wildfire.

I do not hear any footsteps, a sound I had grown accustomed to hearing as a mortal but had completely forgotten is not made by deities.

"When my guards told me there was an intruder in the Underworld, I would never have guessed that one of my own nieces was behind the infiltration."

I raise my head again, this time to find Hades up close in front of me. He is crouched down on one knee, a trace of amusement visible on his otherwise reserved face. Like his brothers, the Lord of the Underworld is dark-haired, blue-eyed, and strongly-built of body. Unlike Zeus and Poseidon, though, Hades' face is clean-shaven. Though he is the eldest of the three, Hades is not quite as tall and imposing as Zeus or Poseidon. Perhaps the amount of time he spent locked away in Cronus' stomach (which was considerably long when compared to that of his younger siblings) somehow stunted his growth. Having suffered the same fate at my own father's hands (though for a much shorter amount of time), I can very well relate to the frustration my uncle must feel at not being able to completely tower over his younger brothers.

How could Hades possibly recognize me in this mortal form? He has never been on Olympus long enough to become familiar with his youngest brother's offspring!

These questions are clearly visible on my face because Hades says matter-of-factly, "Even in mortal form, a deity still carries a hint of his or her immortality. The fact that mortals cannot sense it hardly means that other gods are unable to as well."

He now frowns in thought. "The question is, which of my nieces are you?"

My hands are instantly brushing off my dress as I attempt to keep my voice steady and (hopefully) terror-free. "Athena. I am your niece Athena."

A brief silence follows while my uncle stares at me, his eyes taking in every detail of my appearance. He crosses his arms against his chest, his dark eyebrows shifting high in his austere but handsome face. "And what, may I ask, brings you to my domain?"

Again, whether it is because Hades is the Lord of the Underworld or because he is also my father's brother, I cannot say. All I know is that I find his intense gaze uncomfortable and turn my face away to choose my words carefully. I give him a summary of the circumstances that led to my demotion, my acquaintance with Medusa; Karmê's strange disappearance at the wedding, and my deduction that a god was behind the abduction.

Like Hestia, Hades has the gift of remaining silent until he has heard everything I have to say. Only when I have finished and am catching my breath does he speak. But first he convinces me to look at him directly, something I do with great difficulty. "What makes you think that your Karmê is here in my domain? Is it because I am the first god you think of when mortal girls go missing or wind up carrying children?" His tone has become slightly icy and I am so taken aback by his straightforwardness that I am momentarily stunned into silence. But I recover myself quickly enough to mount a spirited defense.

"Actually, my first suspect would be my own father. I am not blind to the way he shuns Hera's bed and… physical company- he does both on a frequent basis. What I am here to establish is whether Karmê was killed in addition to being kidnapped. Between coming here to find out if such was the case or staying in the mortal world and eventually coming across a mangled corpse, I much prefer the former option!"

I have been shouting and only just now do I realize it, but it is too late to take back my outburst. I half expect Hades to flare up with righteous anger at being told off by me, a goddess-turned-mortal, but he does not. Instead, he surveys me with something almost like approval.

"You have a surprisingly morbid mind, niece," he observes drily as a smile threatens to form across his nearly-pale face. "But you are also honest and spirited- both qualities I admire. Very well, I will help you. My Death Rosters are in my workroom."

He offers me his hand, but I stare at him warily. "Why are you so eager to assist me, uncle? And furthermore, how can I go anywhere in this deplorable condition?" I gesture to my torn clothing and bruised body.

Hades responds by letting out an exasperated sigh. "I may be the Lord of the Underworld, niece, but I am also a god of honor. That is more than can be said for my brothers. More to the point, I am happily married (although my wife is not presently with me). I promise on the river Styx not to trick you or make any improper advances. I will even restore you and your attire to the state you were in before coming down here. All I ask is that you do not remove your friend's soul if you do discover that she is indeed down here. Do we have a deal?"

His hand remains outstretched and I place my own across it. After all, my mission here is to simply find out the truth, not bring the dead back to life. Besides, I have no desire to get on my uncle's bad side. "Deal," I say, shaking his hand firmly. The next thing I know, my body and clothing have been properly restored and we are both walking to Hades' private abode to peruse his Death Rosters.