On the southern edge of Greece, Alex stood along a powdery white shore, ankle deep in the rising tide. There he watched Phorcys, novice of architects, help Jessica build a sand castle.
“I can see why the humans enjoy this,” The Old Man said as he filled a plastic bucket. “Though it doesn’t hold together as well as coral, it’s fun nonetheless. I have yet to discover, however, the secret to the larger structures. I either add too much water or too little, and my work collapses. You mortals have the advantage on me in that regard.”
“Takes practice,” Jessica said, straightening the top to her green bikini. “Do you want to stay for a bit and build the barbican, Alex?”
“No, I don’t have time,” Alex said, realizing he was looking at Jessica a little longer than he should. “I came here because I need help with Euryale.”
Jessica snickered. “Lover’s quarrel already?”
“No, she’s been kidnapped.”
Jessica dropped her jaw an inch. “What? Who on earth kidnaps a gorgon?”
“Ares, which is why I came here for help.”
The Old Man pushed himself up off his knees and stood tall. “I’m aware, and though I’m not fond of her imprisonment, you will not have my aide.”
“But you’re her father!” Alex protested. He ran his fingers through his hair and dug them into his scalp out of frustration. “Don’t you always have to rescue her? Isn’t that part of the job?”
“I have spoken with…others about this matter already,” he replied. “If you love my daughter and desire her at your side, then you will win this fight without me.”
“Who have you been talking to?” Alex demanded. “Athena?”
The Old Man’s face gave no indication either way. “Does it matter? A captain is responsible for his own vessel regardless of the route he must take, regardless of who sails with him and who does not. I have made up my mind. This voyage you will do without my help. But remember what I said before, I do not take kindly to those who hurt my daughters.”
“Then help me! Ares is the one hurting her, not me!”
“Not until you prove your dedication to Euryale first and your saltiness with Ares second. When you’ve shown yourself to be a true member of this family, I will lend you strength and power beyond reckoning, but until then, you’re on your own.”
“Gah!” Alex shook his head and blew out a stress-filled puff of air. “Can you at least give me some resources? Or suggestions on what I might do? Athena said I’d need an army.”
The Old Man said nothing, which only further frustrated Alex. How he hated feeling like their plaything, and how he hated the fact that he didn’t know where else to go even more. If Euryale’s own father wouldn’t help him, who would?
“We could try Hades,” Jessica said. “Lots of dead people there that have fought in wars, right?”
Alex’s face lit up. “That’s not a bad idea at all,” he said. “That’s actually a pretty damn good idea. I’ll go to Hades and raise an army of the dead.”
“We will go to Hades and raise an army of the dead,” Jessica said. “No buts. I’m coming with.”
“It’s dangerous. You heard Apollo. The living aren’t allowed.”
“I don’t care what he said,” she replied, squaring off with him. “You think I’m passing up the chance of a lifetime and not seeing what the afterlife looks like? Not photographing the God of the Underworld? Not helping the person I care about and letting him face danger alone?”
Though Alex’s heart warmed at her determination and friendship to be at his side, he couldn’t risk her wellbeing on such a treacherous journey. As such, he looked to The Old Man. “Little help here? Tell her what’s what.”
“I’ve said already, you are on your own,” he replied. He looked to Jessica as he went on. “And you, Apollo was right in that the living are not allowed to walk freely to and from the Underworld, but that doesn’t mean it hasn’t been done before.”
Jessica’s eyes lit up. “Orpheus!”
The Old Man nodded and left without further word.
“Who?” asked Alex.
“Orpheus went to Hades to go after his wife and got by with his buttery voice and musical talents.”
“I’m hardly epic-voice man,” Alex said. “And I can’t tote a piano around.”
Jessica shrugged and hopped into his chariot. “We’ll think of something. Important thing to take away from all of this is that Hades can be bargained with.”
“And if he can’t, what happens to you then?”
“Guess I’ll become the second person you have to save,” she said with a playful wink.
* * *
Having slipped by a sleeping Cerberus an hour prior, Alex pulled the reins, and his fiery mane ponies came to a halt outside Hades’ abode. He hopped off the chariot and helped Jessica down. Ahead of them stood the massive double doors that led to Hade’s abode.
“How does this work? Do we knock?” Jessica asked.
“Probably best,” he said. “I don’t want to be rude, since I think I might have already upset him.”
“How’s that?”
“I tricked him by not eating a pomegranate that he offered. I’m sure by now he’s figured that out.”
“Ah,” she said, stepping back. “Well, you do it then.”
“What happened to helping me through thick and thin?”
Jessica laughed and stepped back again. “I never said through thick and thin. Anyhow, you’re the immortal one now, remember? You can take whatever’s coming. I’d rather not die and be stuck here forever.”
“Glad to be your meat shield,” he said as he grabbed one of the large, iron knockers and used it to announce their presence.
Alex folded his arms and drummed his fingers on his bicep as they waited. He prayed he hadn’t made a mistake in coming here or in capitulating to Jessica’s demand to help. To top things off, he still didn’t know what he was going to say to Hades to smooth things over or how he could go about getting an army of the dead from him.
The doors swung open, and Alex blew out a puff of air when he saw that it wasn’t Hades who answered, but Persephone. She still wore her royal dress and her golden crown. Her hair was still fixed the same since they had last parted, but her eyes were different. Gone were the hints of fear and uncertainty Alex had seen before. Instead, they had a touch of life to them, almost desire.
“I need to speak to Hades,” Alex said, thinking that he might as well state his intentions upfront.
“Of course,” she said. “Who have you brought with you?”
“Jessica Turner,” she replied, practically leaping over Alex to get in front of the queen. “You have no idea how excited I am to meet you. I must have read your story a hundred times when I was a child.”
Persephone tilted her head. “You’re not dead, are you?”
Alex butted in before she could reply. “She’s here on Aphrodite’s orders, more or less.”
“More or less?” Persephone chuckled. “I wonder if that will be enough. For your friend’s sake, I hope you have something to offer my husband that will appeal to him—he’s already cross with you. But if I were you, Jessica, I’d take those ponies and wait for Alex back in land of the living.”
“I’m staying,” Jessica said. “We can work something out.”
“If it were up to me, we could,” she said, bidding them to follow her inside with a wave of her hand. “I imagine you’re here about Euryale, then? I can’t think of any other reason why you’d risk coming back.”
Alex raised his eyebrows. “You know?”
“Everyone knows,” she said, leading him down the hall with her hands folded behind her back. “Before Ares had even finished turning the key that locks your wife away, Hermes had told everyone.”
“That fast?” Alex said, impressed.
“That fast,” she repeated. “She is the daughter of a god, after all.”
“I’m hoping Hades might help me,” Alex said.
“As do I,” she said.
“Why?” asked Alex.
“Oh, that someone would fight over me,” she replied. A smile, small but true, appeared on her face and she wiped away a tear. “Mother did, of course, when she made demands to Zeus to have me freed, but no one else.”
“I don’t follow,” said Alex.
“My mother is Demeter, Goddess of the Harvest,” she explained. “Long ago, when I was free and able to roam the Earth above, Hades swept me away to be his bride. I was innocent, a little naïve perhaps, and before my mother could find me, I ate some pomegranate seeds Hades had offered.”
“Binding you here in the Underworld,” Jessica finished.
Persephone nodded and continued. “Mother didn’t give up, to her credit. She hounded Zeus for my release, threatened the Earth with famine, and so he gave in, partially at least. To satisfy the Fates, Hades, and my mother, Zeus allowed me to roam the Earth for three seasons each year, but during the fourth, I’m to live in the Underworld. So you see, though mother fought for me, it’s not the same, is it? It’s not like a lover risking it all to be at my side.”
“I suppose not,” Alex admitted.
The conversation paused, and the three of them navigated the twists and turns of the dark halls in silence. Only a single, long red carpet and periodic braziers offered any sort of decoration. The foremost muted their footsteps as they traveled, while the latter held waning fires that could barely melt an ice cube. As the minutes ticked by, Alex wondered if Hade’s abode had always been so barren, or if it had started out as an extravagant home that had slowly eroded under an eternal depression. Either way, he could scarcely believe the contrast between this place and Mount Olympus.
Finally, they reached the throne room. Hades sat on an ebony throne, hunched forward with his elbows on his knees and his hands clasped together. His face looked drawn, and his shoulders sagged, as if the weight of the world above pressed down upon them.
“We have company, dear,” Persephone said, walking up a few steps to be at her husband’s side. She did not sit on her throne beside him, but simply placed a hand on the god’s shoulder. “Alex, husband of Euryale, son-in-law of Phorcys, humbly requests an audience, and he has a guest with him, a woman named Jessica, who comes at the direction of Aphrodite.”
Hades shifted in his seat, and rested his chin on one hand. “I’m surprised you came back, Alex,” he said. “Everyone else just wants to run away. Not that I blame them.”
“Well, I’m not everyone else,” said Alex when he couldn’t think of anything else to say.
“No, no you aren’t,” Hades replied. “But I’m still certain you want something from me.”
“I’ve come for your help,” said Alex.
“And why should I help you?” Hades quickly retorted as he straightened in his seat.
Whereas moments ago, Hades had regarded Alex with indifference, the curt reply and change in posture told Alex that at least one flame of anger burned inside the god. So instead of challenging the god on the question of why, Alex opted to take a different approach. “You have no reason to,” he said. “I tricked you into thinking I had taken some of your food for my own reasons when I should have been upfront and honest that I did not care for any.”
“Go on,” said Hades with a weary voice.
“For that offense, I can only offer my apologies,” Alex said. “But my wife has been taken from me, and I need an army to get her back. Surely you can empathize with my plight. You know what it’s like to be separated from the one you love.”
“Yes, I do,” said Hades, holding his wife’s hand. “But you’re still like the others. Always wanting. Never giving.”
“I don’t know what I have that you want,” said Alex.
“You have nothing I want.” Hades replied.
“Surely there is something I can do.”
Hades’ brow furrowed. “I said, you have nothing.”
“Yes, you did,” Alex said, feeling like what little wind was in his sails had been taken away and now he risked Hades’ wrath if he stayed. “I’m sorry for taking up your time. I’ll see my own way out.”
Alex turned and began to walk away, intent on finding a new way to raise an army, but Jessica grabbed him by the arm and was quick to speak. “If I may, your most powerfulness,” she said. “I know you’re saddened for your wife to leave the home you two have made for the next few seasons, but perhaps I can do something to help alleviate that pain of separation.”
“What can you do, a mortal?” he scoffed.
Jessica raised her camera. “I can take pictures of her and you two together, so you’ll have fond memories to look at until she returns.”
“Paintings.”
“No, not paintings. Similar in a sense, but not the same. If I may.” Jessica slowly approached the throne and showed the preview screen on her DSLR to the god where she flipped through all the pictures she had taken thus far. “These would be made as big as one can print, if you so desire.”
“Show me.”
To that request, she did. Jessica had Persephone drape her arms around Hades’ neck and lean into him, her forehead resting against his, and with a little extra direction, she struck the perfect balance between longing and loving in her eyes. Then, Jessica only had to spend a few extra moments setting her ISO and shutter speed to account for the gloom before snapping off a dozen shots from three different angles.
“I’m not that impressed,” Hades said. “They are decent depictions of us, but nothing special. Certainly not worthy of having an army raised over.”
“I’ll need to do the processing at home. When I’m done, the colors will be more vibrant, the mood and framing perfect,” she said. “I could easily take a hundred more of your lovely wife throughout your kingdom while you help Alex. I swear to you, what you see now are only shadows of what could be.”
“You expect me to believe you’ll work elsewhere and come back on your own, especially when your friend gets what he wants up front?”
Jessica shook her head and looked as helpless as Alex felt. “I have to have my computer. These pictures are raw. They aren’t near finished.”
“Tempting, but no,” Hades said.
“Please, though I’ll do whatever it takes to see Euryale back to me, I’d prefer having your assistance,” Alex said. “All I can offer in addition to Jessica’s service is my gratitude and service at some other time. Being the son-in-law of Phorcys must count for something.”
“It along with Aphrodite’s involvement with your friend is barely enough for me not to keep her here forever. I do not like the living coming and going from my realm as they see fit. Now go.”
“Wait,” Persephone said, grabbing her husband by the shoulder. “For my sake, help him.”
Hades looked up to her and shrugged. “I see no reason,” he said. “I’m tired enough as it is.”
But Persephone did not relent in her request. She bent down and kissed him on his forehead. “Take Jessica’s offering and help Alex. Should he succeed, I’ll stay with you another fourteen days on my own accord.”
Hades remained silent for a few moments, and Alex waited anxiously, fidgeting as he did. Finally, the god nodded. “Only if you swear by the River Styx,” he said.
At which point, Persephone quickly interjected, “I so swear!”
“And, you, Alex,” Hades continued. “You must win. For if I help you, and you fail and my wife does not stay, you’ll bear a fury like no other. Before I’m finished peeling away your sanity, you’ll beg to be made mortal again and let your body give up the ghost.”
Despite the grim warning, Alex smiled broadly. “Thank you,” he said. “Thank you. I won’t rest until she’s in my arms again.”
“Then take my scepter and go,” Hades said, offering it to Alex with one hand. “Raise your army and rescue your bride, but be sure your heart is in the work, lest the quality of men you raise suffers.”
* * *
In a large clearing, some five or ten miles south of Termessos, Alex, covered in grime, blood, and gore, looked at the countless sets of bones and half-formed corpses and wondered what he was doing wrong. Everything, probably. Hades had given no real instruction on the use of his scepter, and thus far, Alex had tried a variety of grips on its shaft, all the while trying to “will” an army to raise from the ground. Whatever the hell that meant. But since his previous attempts had ended in the most magnificent of corpse explosions, Alex decided he needed to reevaluate his plan. Perhaps his heart really wasn’t in it after all, or simply not enough.
Alex’s brow furrowed as he tried to recall every little detail he could when he had watched Hades work. The god had made it look so easy, Alex thought, but then quickly reminded himself that that was the mark of a true master, to make the complicated, the impossible, look simple. But even a master was a novice at one point. Even a master had to start with his first creation or performance, no matter how long ago that was. Everyone started at the beginning. Everyone. Still, he was up for suggestions.
“Any ideas?” he said to Jessica.
“Yeah, conjure up a hazmat suit for each of us,” she said, shaking a bit of gore off her boot. “And then some new clothes to change into as well.”
“I meant in making an army.”
“Maybe you’re trying to take on too much,” she said. “Start simple.”
Alex eyed the scepter as he thought about her remark. Maybe she was right. With that thought, he outstretched his arms, held the scepter horizontal, and began to envision a single, solitary soldier—not the vast army he originally had been trying for. The man he envisioned would be from World War II, only because Alex had read and seen enough documentaries about the period that he felt confident in knowing every detail in how he’d look. Besides, Alex couldn’t very well raise a Spartan and thrust a gun into his hand, now could he?
The image in his mind took shape: the man would be six feet even, short hair, brown, cleanly shaven. A muscular build, but not brutish. A grin that said the man kept his humor, but a thousand-yard stare that said he’d seen combat, and plenty of it. His uniform would be a form-fitting M-42 jumpsuit over a wool shirt, green of course. He’d need rank, as well. Sergeant stripes would do. In his hands would be an M-1 Garand, and atop his head would be the iconic helmet that all the US soldiers wore. As Alex thought about all of this—the more he pictured the way the man moved, spoke, even smelled—a tingly sensation ran through his arm.
Soon Alex realized his hands were moving rhythmically through the air. He continued to concentrate on what he wanted, and at the same time, he tried to relax and let the energy flow through him unimpeded. The ground several yards away rumbled and slowly peeled back. A second later, a bare hand shot forth, perfectly formed.
“Keep it up!” Jessica said energetically. “You’ve got it!”
Alex watched, amazed, as the hand groped both air and dirt as it sought some unknown thing. But as quick as it came, it stiffened and sank back into the ground. The energy that had flowed freely through his body only moments ago dwindled to almost nothing.
“No! Get back to whatever you were doing!” Jessica said.
Alex shut his eyes, knowing his spell was on the verge of collapse, but frustration kept him from progressing further. He sighed heavily. “I’m too tense.”
Jessica slipped behind him and massaged his neck and shoulders. “You can do this. I’ve never seen you not be able to do anything you’ve wanted to do.”
Alex nodded as he let his body enjoy a bit of pampering. As she continued to work on his muscles, the tension melted away, and his mind relaxed. He soon found himself replaying one of his favorite orchestra pieces in his head, In the Halls of the Mountain King.
The simple theme started low and quiet with cellos and bassoons. While they tip-toed through the notes, Alex tip-toed through the picture of what he wanted to the tune of the melody.
I need one who’s tall and lean,
Just as mean,
Dressed in green,
If I’m to save Euryale from Ares’ evil things
He must have a rifle too,
Aim it true,
Hair cut crew,
He must have an attitude that always says can-do
In his boot’s a fighting knife,
To take life,
For my wife,
He will charge right into strife, day or night too.
Shovel will be on his back,
With a pack,
Ammo sack,
On his feet are boots of black, good, not cracked too.
He’ll be fearless at my side,
As we hide,
And decide,
The very best way that we can go and save my bride.
At that point in the song, when the tempo of his mental recital picked up, Alex became acutely aware of two things. First, the energy he’d so earnestly sought now coursed through his body. And second, someone had just given a throat-clearing cough. Someone who was neither Jessica nor feminine.
Alex opened his eyes. There, standing a few feet away, bewildered but otherwise looking fine, was the soldier Alex had envisioned, right down to the frayed nametag and weathered combat boots.
“Sorry to interrupt, but where the hell am I?” the man asked.
“Termessos,” Alex replied with a growing smile.
“We still at war?”
Alex nodded. “We’re at war, but not the one you’re thinking of.”
The man looked about and adjusted the sights on his M1 Garand. “Is it just us?”
“No,” Alex said, shaking his head. He sucked in a deep breath, stretched out his arms, and shut his eyes once more. “More are coming. Many, many more.”