Megara paced the shadowed ledge she'd picked out a fair distance from Hades. He could yank her leash whenever he wanted, but as long as he remained fixated on his nephew's impending doom, she had some sense of freedom.
This might be, on balance, the worst thing she'd ever done in her life. There was a list by now, one she dared not contemplate, but she'd never knowingly lured a man to his own gruesome murder before. If not for the fact it served him, Hades would have every right to damn her into Tartarus for this. Maybe he still would. That would track with his sense of humor.
Even worse was the crowd gathering along the carved steps into the gorge. All manner of citizens had heard there would be a feat of heroism and left the gray misery of their lives to witness it. How many of them would escape a rampage by the Cadmean Hydra?
That was only if Hercules succeeded in lifting the rock, and the Hydra had survived all these years. Maybe she'd died in there.
Megara clasped her hands, watching Hercules struggle.
He had to fail. It was the only way. The boulder was massive and had contained a monster for generations. Nobody mortal could be that strong. It would be all right.
From her vantage point, Megara could see every second Hercules struggled, and wagered against his success with every tremble. Even still, by the will of the gods, Hercules lifted the boulder over his head.
She'd known him for a competent warrior, but this was another matter, entirely. There he stood under the weight of a massive boulder, and though he shook with its weight, he did not let it fall. If not for what came next, she'd have been applauding the moment.
Pain and Panic raced up the stairs toward Hades's hiding place, but Megara had no time for them or the big boss.
She only turned to acknowledge how Hades praised her performance. "What a dish. What a doll." If he'd known the impact of his words, he might have taken extra time to mock her for being so noble when it didn't matter. She'd already sealed his death sentence with her personal signet ring.
"Get outta there, ya big lug, while you still can," she whispered.
Hercules was lingering in the open, too near the opening he'd created by throwing the boulder from its resting place. She couldn't hear what he said from there, but his body language made it clear he was proud of himself. He'd even won himself a tepid applause for the unwitting instigation of his own doom. He hadn't even noticed how she'd abandoned him.
The hissing started first.
Then it was the eyes.
Hercules backed away, stupefied by the magnitude of the Hydra. How ironic, Megara thought when it stepped out of the shadows, that the Draconic beast's monstrous scales were the same purple favored by the Theban dynasty. The Hydra's head sat atop a towering serpentine neck, with spines along its back.
She tasted the air of freedom for the first time since Cadmus had carved his name into the annals of history. She must still harbor animosity toward heroes, for she recognized Hercules as her prey immediately.
He may have trained for years, but it had not been long enough to steel his resolve in the face of this monster. He fared no better than he had in his first brush with Nessus. Though he first lost, then valiantly swung his sword, he soon rallied enough to throw a jagged boulder at the Hydra's face. Despite this, the creature laughed at the hero, who then found the Hydra's tongue wrapped about his ankle. The beast threw her head back, and the screaming young man fell between her jaws with all his potential.
Megara clutched at her own throat, disgust intermingling with regret. Only with the hero's scream silenced forever did she recognize how she had prayed for his victory.
Hercules was too strong to be crushed by the Hydra's esophagus. He would endure into her stomach, where he would either suffocate or be slowly dissolved in her stomach acids.
Now everyone standing on the ledge would fall prey to the Hydra and join him in his final moments… or even hours…
Rainfall heralded the sorrow of Zeus. His face appeared in the clouds, his sadness converting to rage.
Hades leaned back on his throne, which had been placed there at the mausoleum to honor him, but seemed in need of toppling. "Looks like your boy couldn't cut it," he said.
Zeus's rage only compounded, but neither the Olympian king nor his brother were ready for the Hydra's attack to come up short. She never devoured a single onlooker.
A bulge appeared midway down her neck, drawing every eye in equal confusion.
Megara leaned closer, heedless of the height she stood at over the valley. Her heart had only moments to realize Hercules was alive before in one clean sweep he sliced through the Hydra's throat and stood victorious on the stump. The hideous thing slammed to the valley floor below, and he stumbled free, covered in a slushy green liquid.
He seemed no worse for wear, aside from a few rips in his cape and the way he stumbled about. From the looks of it, he'd been at a particularly raucous bacchanal, but he'd walk it off.
This miraculous feat earned a more positive response than before. It was amazing to see Thebans pleased with something. They'd probably spent their whole lives nonplussed from the cradle.
"Relax, it's only halftime!" Hades assured his hyperventilating minions.
Hercules stumbled through the Hydra's green blood, too dazed to function. Behind him, the corpse of the Hydra stirred. Hercules and the satyr turned in time to watch the headless beast stand, and then a mucous membrane formed over the stump.
Three fresh heads burst free where there had been one.
It had been miracle enough that Hercules had survived once, but how could he pull through a second, even grander miracle?
Zeus glared down at Hades only briefly, too preoccupied with his son to care what his brother was up to. Hera appeared beside him in the clouds, clinging to her husband's arm. Impotent thunder rolled over the battlefield while the panicked heir of Olympus swung his sword madly from his flying mount.
It seemed with each passing second there were three more heads emerging from a severed stump until Hercules and Pegasus stared, helpless, down at the tangle of Hydra heads. They must number in the hundreds! Untold multitudes would fall prey to her endless appetite. The fate that her ancestor had fought so hard to postpone would befall Thebes at Megara's own hands.
From her perch near the edge of the cliff, Megara clasped those hands together to stop the shaking.
Hercules flew through a mass of heads, screaming and throwing wild strikes as he confronted, then dodged untold horrors.
Above him, his divine parents huddled together to watch their son pinned to the canyon wall in one massive talon. The most powerful beings in the cosmos were helpless, bound by their own laws of not intervening to tip the scales against the hands of Fate. In earlier centuries, they may have reached down to pluck Hercules out of the valley, but for the same reason they'd left him to be raised by mortals, he fought alone. They were so focused on his impending fate that Hades didn't bother to disguise his glee.
"My favorite part of the game…" Hades sneered down at his nephew. His flames were molten orange with anticipation. "Sudden death."
The Hydra reared its many heads back, prepared to rip Hercules apart. His death would have been an agonizing one before, but now? At least it would be over sooner. The heads all charged forward at once, just as Hercules slammed both fists into the cliffside behind him.
A fracture in the rock face splintered the valley wall until it rained down upon monster and man with a hail of boulders. The Hydra pulled up short, but she could not dodge her fate. Both were lost under the rockslide.
This time, for sure, Hercules had been sent to the Elysian Fields. His uncle had no access to hassle him there, but he could not oppose Hades in his uprising. At least now, he could rest.
Zeus and Hera wept together in the clouds, sending rain down to express their sorrow over the scene. They turned away, unable to fathom the scene before them.
Hades lit what he called a cigar, while Megara was simply glad she was too far away to smell it. For the time, he was satisfied even if he hadn't gotten his rampage through Thebes to lap up souls. After years of trying to get the better of Hercules, he'd finally cracked the kid's defenses. He was still celebrating when the Hydra's claw stirred.
Every eye turned to watch for whether the monster would re-emerge. It seemed no mortal breathed until the claw broke apart to reveal the triumphant hero.
He resembled a toddler's doll after getting chewed on by the family dog. Hercules stumbled free of his enemy's grasp, just as surprised to be alive as anyone was to see him. His divine family parted the clouds so the sun could shine just for him.
It was an uncommon experience for Thebans to have cause to celebrate. Many were too young to remember the days of the hero king, Oedipus, but most could remember his end. How many of them had ever had cause to cheer in their entire lives?
Megara was no different. Her hands moved on their own to applaud, though she forced herself to remain as inconspicuous as possible. "Well, whaddya know?" she murmured to herself. This could be the dawn of something different for Thebes. She wasn't fool enough to hope, but she took some secret delight in knowing there was someone in this cosmos who stood a chance of taking down the nigh-unstoppable force of Hades and the Titans.
He was more than a poser, after all. In his golden halo of light, hoisted on the shoulders of her people, even Megara's cold, walled-off heart had to admit she admired his bronzed perfection. In years past, she might even have allowed herself to contemplate how she'd never seen a handsomer man in her life.
But today was not years ago.
Today, she turned to check on her master. This wasn't over.