The Day of Battles always began after a pause. There’d be a lining-up of fighters, and then they were chosen and pitted against each other in tests of strength. Those who did best rose in the hierarchy of Tartarus, while those who did poorly were humiliated until they could redeem themselves the following year.
But this year was nothing like those that had taken place before.
A giant head of a wooden horse appeared between the doors, monstrous and sharply angled. Smoke billowed from its nostrils as it pushed through the widening crack and rolled into the room.
Cyane pressed against him as the beast’s head slowly rolled from side to side, considering all the guests in apt hunger. The rest of it remained solid and still.
When the horse finished passing through the doorway, it stopped at the center of the obsidian dancefloor. The doors shut with a resounding bang. The horse continued to creakily take in the partygoers that gathered around it and touched its enormous hooves with glee and curiosity.
“The Battle of Troy?” Cyane murmured with awe.
Hades turned around. “Very good, Cyane. The Trojan horse burned up in flames long ago, and like all dead things whether they were alive or not, ended up here in my realm. And like all dead things, it can be revived.” Hades sat back down on his throne; his smile was gone. He played with the ring of hair around his finger. Cerberus gritted his teeth.
The hounds gathered around them from the shadows, surrounding the dais.
“I don’t want to be here anymore,” Cyane whispered beside him. “Please.”
Cerberus glanced down at her.
“This is not for you, mortal, this is for them,” Hade said, his voice carrying across the ballroom, bringing with it snickers and clapping. The clapping grew louder, drinks were spilled, and Cerberus unsheathed his weapon for the second time that hour.
The horse reared up on its hind legs and slammed its front legs down on the Arae before it. The claps transformed into screams as blood splattered across the floor. It thrust its head down, snatched up several daemons in its jaws, and crunched them between its blunt, wooden teeth.
Cyane shrieked, and Cerberus gripped her arm to keep her from fleeing.
Hades was the only one laughing now as everyone ran for the walls, clawing at them to get out.
“Why?” Cerberus stepped forward.
The horse killed the Arae behind him.
“We have to get rid of the old to make room for the new,” Hades said.
“The gods will look upon this unfavorably,” Cerberus swore, feeling Cyane shake against him.
“The gods? They’re spared such deceit. Take in the scene, Cerberus. The horse is not bothering the gods in attendance. This is a place of death, of darkness. We’ve had too much life here that is not of my own making for far too long. How can we bring in new life when the house is full of meaningless swine?”
“Is that your plan? To bring in new life? Is that why Cyane is here?” Cerberus wrapped a protective arm around her as she clung to him.
“Hmmm…” Hades lifted his hand and eyed the ring made of Cyane’s hair. “So many questions, and in front of the court.” Hades’s gaze shot to Cerberus’s as the pounding of the horse’s hooves beat down like a drum.
The crunch of bones and the snap of its jaw filled Cerberus’s ears. The screams ebbed as the death count rose.
“I did not think you had the courage to confront me,” Hades said. “Should I demand you to renew your tribute, old friend of mine? Aren’t you hungry? I’m surprised you’re not itching to join the Trojan horse in its feast.”
Cerberus snarled. A part of him did want to join in. The part of him that Hades himself had buried deep under Cerberus’s man suit. Copper scented blood filled his nose, making his mouth water, his teeth ache. If he opened his jaw wide enough, he could hear the screams of all the souls he’d devoured still trapped deep within.
His hounds, all around, salivated from the shadows, watching the slaughter with their own yearning.
Hades’s twisted smile returned to his lips. “You do want to join it. Go ahead. This gift is as much for you as it is for me. You can leave the mortal with me. I promise she won’t be hurt. It’s been a long time since you’ve had a real meal, hasn’t it?”
Cerberus clenched his hands, scanning the bloody ballroom as his hounds crept forward eagerly. Cyane cried silently against him.
“Unless she’s stopping you? Interesting.” Hades took in the mortal clutched rigidly against Cerberus. “Your choice—take her away or enjoy the battle. I’ll enjoy it either way.”
“This isn’t a battle, it’s a massacre.”
Hades turned away. “Perhaps.”
