reached the Vale of Mourning yet. Yee haw, this was going to be fun.
A sudden damp coldness clung to the air around us. I lifted my head, eyeing the burnt orange sky. One drop of water fell, splashing off my cheek. Then they sky opened up, drenching us in cold rain within seconds.
I sighed. “Really, it has to rain?”
“At least it’s not acid.”
That was Aiden, always looking on the bright side of things.
Tugging my hood down closer, I trudged forward. The souls paid no heed to the heavy rainfall. Perhaps they’d grown used to it. I wanted to stop and yell at them to go to judgment, because whatever waited for them couldn’t be worse than this.
Especially for the little ones who were all alone—there was nothing they could have done to warrant them eternity in Tartarus.
One small boy sat alone in a large puddle the rain had already created. The child couldn’t have been more than four or five. He moved his chubby fingers in the mud, drawing a circle and then wiggly lines all around it.
The sun—he was drawing the sun.
I started toward him, not sure what I’d do, but I had to do something—maybe convince him to go to judgment. Gods knew how long he’d been here. His family could already be in Elysian Fields.
“No,” Aiden said softly.
“But—”
“Remember what Apollo said. We cannot intervene.”
I stared at the little boy, fighting the urge to break free. “It’s wrong.”
Aiden’s grip on my hand tightened. “I know, but there’s nothing we can do.”
My heart ached as I watched the little boy carve a moon beside the sun, heedless to the rain or the other souls practically trampling him. I wanted to be angry and I was—even at Aiden, because he was right. There was nothing we could do. And there would be more like this little boy—more forgotten souls.
Fighting back the sting of tears, I pulled my hand free from Aiden’s but didn’t run off. I fell in step beside him as we passed beyond the poor child, navigating the endless field of souls that had been either left behind or cast aside.
It took hours to pass through the Asphodel Fields. By the time we left the ankle-deep mud and our boots touched scattered patches of grass, we were drenched and cold, our cloaks weighted down and heavy. Rain had somehow snuck into my boot and, with each step, my foot sloshed back and forth. Exhaustion dogged me, and probably Aiden too, but neither of us complained. Traveling through the field of all those souls had served as a reminder that things could always be worse.
The rain had let up a little, turning to a constant, steady drizzle. The sky was now a darker orange, signaling that night was close at hand. Ahead, the rolling green hills led up to a thick, nearly impenetrable slate wall. It was going to be a steep climb.
“Do you want to take a breather?” Aiden asked from behind his cloak as he surveyed the hills. “It looks relatively safe. We could take a—”
“No. I’m fine.” I stepped around him, slowly climbing the first hill, ignoring the dull ache taking up residency in my temples. “Besides, the faster we can get into the tunnels, the sooner we can rest, right? We’ll be safe there at night.”
“Yes.” Aiden was beside me in a second. His hand came out from the cloak and slipped inside my hood. His palm was warm against my cheek. The gesture was brief, and gone all too quickly.
We traveled on in silence, but worry nagged at me. The headache wasn’t severe, nothing like what I’d experienced before Seth had paid a call, but I had no idea how long it would take for it to progress. The only hope was that we reached somewhere safe—preferably dry—where we could bunk down for the night. Sleep was what I needed, and the sooner the better.
The odd sky darkened with each hill we crested, forcing us to pick up our pace. We crossed a field of narcissus that rose to our knees, petals a luminous white and carrying an incredibly sweet scent. The slate wall drew closer as the flowers gave way to trees.
At least that’s what I thought they were.
They rose into the sky, their branches bare for the most part, like slender fingers reaching for the ever- increasing darkness. Around the lower branches, ruby-red fruit hung in the air. Pomegranates.
Curious to how they tasted, I reached for one.
Aiden’s hand snatched mine in a near painful grasp. I let out a startled gasp.
“No,” he said harshly. From behind the cloak, his eyes were a bright silver. “Do you know nothing of Persephone?”
I glared at him. “Uh, she’s the Queen of the Underworld. I’m not stupid.”
“I didn’t say you were stupid.” His grip loosened as he led me through the trees, toward the last mound. “Though, I’m really starting to think you should’ve spent less time in class sleeping or doing whatever you were doing.”
“Ha. Ha.”
“Persephone ate from the pomegranate trees here. If you eat anything from this world, you can never leave.”
All my smartass responses faded away. Boy, did I feel like an idiot for not recalling that. “Okay. Maybe I should’ve paid attention in class.”
He chuckled.
But all humor left him when he got a good look at the hill. “Gods…”
It was steep, covered with grassy patches, exposed roots, trees with enormous black, teardrop-shaped fruit hanging from their branches, and what I seriously hoped were fragments of pale rock—not bones, like they appeared. At the very top, a ledge butted up to the thick gray wall.
Sighing, I sidled past Aiden. “We better get going.”
We climbed the hill, using the roots to gain purchase and to keep climbing. I don’t know how Aiden did it, carrying the heavy pack on his back, but he moved a hell of lot quicker than me.
Halfway to the top, a twittering sound rose above the canopy of odd fruit. I stopped, lifting my head. The heavy hood slipped back as I stared through the drizzle, beyond the trees, to the now dark-blue sky.
Night had fallen, and I recalled Apollo’s warning.
“Come on,” Aiden called. “We need to hurry.”
Grabbing a root, I hauled myself up. “That noise—do you hear it?”
Aiden said nothing just kept on climbing.
The branches above us began to shudder, rocking the giant fruit. The twittering grew louder. “I… I think… it’s coming from the fruit.”
Above me, a black teardrop the size of a beanbag chair shook—and then it spread open, one… one long, black and hairy
“Oh, my gods… they’re not fruit.” And I
The giant spider dropped from the tree, hitting the ground on six of its eight legs. Its squeal turned my blood to ice. Another smacked onto the grass… and then another and another. Their sick chorus drowned out the sound of everything else.
Aiden slid down the hill, kicking up loose pebbles and bones as he came to my side. He grabbed my hand as one dropped beside us, fangs gleaming, raised two of its legs and made a fingers-on-a-chalkboard screech.
Shrieking, I jumped back, knocking into Aiden as the huge spider scuttled over the ground. Aiden shoved me to the side and whipped out a dagger. Jerking up, he slammed the blade to the hilt into the center of the spider.
I rolled to my knees and scrambled up, catching the sight of thousands of black legs scurrying across the ground.
Weight slammed into my back, pushing me face-first into the loose dirt and wet grass. Sharp pain sliced across my lip and I tasted blood in my mouth, but that was a nonissue when I felt the heavy, hairy weight of the
