Jeremy and Aristotle jumped off the road. They scrambled up the hill and hid behind a boulder.
A black chariot pulled by two black horses burst through the mist. The horses had flowing black tails and manes. Red rubies sparkled on their harnesses.
A tall man drove the chariot. He wore a black helmet that glistened with diamonds. His black cape swirled in the wind. He cracked a long thin whip.
“That’s Hades,” said Aristotle. “He’s the god of the Underworld.”
Jeremy shivered.
“Whoa!” shouted Hades.
He pulled the reins. The horses reared. Smoke poured from their flared nostrils.
Hades stared up the side of the hill. He stared right at their boulder. His face was like cold stone.
Goose bumps prickled the back of Jeremy’s neck. Then Hades looked the other way.
“He’s searching for shades,” whispered Aristotle. “Dead people. He wants to take them to his palace to be his slaves.”
“Oh,” said Jeremy. He tried to crunch into a tiny ball. His runner kicked against a loose rock. It rattled down the side of the hill.
Hades spun around. He looked right at Jeremy.
“Run!” shouted Aristotle.
Aristotle bounded up the steep hill. Jeremy scrambled after him. He grabbed onto tufts of grass to pull himself up.
Jeremy looked back.
The gray mist swirled around him. He could hear rocks sliding and heavy breathing.
And then, when Jeremy turned around, he couldn’t see Aristotle!
He was in the middle of a thick gray cloud.
A voice squeaked, “Over here!”
The voice came from inside the hill. A large rock ledge jutted out in front of Jeremy. He crawled underneath into a tiny cave. Aristotle crouched at the back.
Jeremy squeezed beside Aristotle.
There was a loud crunching sound. A pair of huge black boots loomed right outside the cave.
Jeremy gulped.
They were close enough to touch!