Rocks skittered down the side of the mountain behind Ryder. They echoed through the too-still night and scared us both. We jumped apart and quickly surveyed the area, expecting the worst.
Something flapped its leathery wings overhead and we pressed ourselves against the cold rock of the mountain.
“There will be more time for that later.” Ryder nudged my side with his elbow. “You’re going to get us killed.”
I smiled even though he couldn’t see me in the pitch black of the passageway. “Death by kisses. That doesn’t sound so bad.”
I heard his smile as we inched along. “True story.”
His hand slid down my forearm and took my hand again. He pulled me along the gravelly road, occasionally tripping over a large rock we couldn’t see.
Bats, or something like bats, screeched overhead. In this kind of darkness, the rest of my senses were hyperaware of every little thing. My hearing picked up the flapping of their wings as they swooped from perch to perch and the scratching of their claws as they landed somewhere on the rock overhead.
Ryder and I had to turn sideways to fit through the ever-narrowing tunnel. The mountain pushed in on us from either side. The sharp rock jabbed at my sides and exposed arms. My gown snagged more than once and I was afraid I would be standing in nothing but a rag if we ever managed to make it out of here.
The darkness just got darker.
I had never experienced anything like it. It weighed down on my skin, making my arms sluggish and numb. My feet tripped more often and I started to worry that there were drugs in the air.
My mind spun with possibilities. Was this the Fates’ defense? Did they incapacitate intruders before they got anywhere important?
Ryder’s grip on my hand grew weaker and weaker, his steps moving slower and slower. My stomach clenched with fear, but it was a muted reaction compared to normal.
“Ryder,” I whispered, thinking we should go back. He didn’t respond.
Was it just my imagination or had the bats creeped closer? Had something flown by just over my head?
Ryder’s feet stumbled and our hands nearly slipped apart. His fingers slid from mine, but our pinkies linked and I felt that connection as strongly as I did the haziness in my head and the sluggishness in my muscles.
I couldn’t let him go. This was my one lifeline to something real. Something lasting.
I was completely blind in this place. My eyes never adjusted to the darkness. They couldn’t, there was no light to give them any reprieve. But after a while, I started to hallucinate that I could see things.
Insidious images started to flash before me. I saw hideous creatures with bloodied talons and gaping mouths. I saw men beneath them with their guts spilled out. Their eyes were wide with agony, but their mouths curled into pleasured smiles.
I saw serpents the size of humans with horned heads and forked tongues. Their bodies wrapped around more creatures made from nightmares. Their heads bobbed our direction as we walked by them.
Instinctively I knew not to look in their eyes. I knew to keep my head down and my eyes on my feet as much as I could.
A woman walked through their midst wrapped in dirty gauze. Her hair moved around her shoulders in thick, tangled strands as if it had a life of its own. I knew not to look at her face, but I watched her clawed toenails grip the harsh ground with every step she took.
Medusa, my Greek brain told me.
Her hairdidhave a life of its own. Orlivesof its own. The slender snakes moved as one unit, but each had its own head, each had the power to kill.
Another woman caught my attention. Her long, black hair reached her feet and wrapped around her ankles and calves like a vine. Her pale legs seemed to glow in the darkness, so frail and delicate that their weakness was a visible thing. Her thin arms wrapped around her too small waist and hugged her torso with a desperation I felt in my bones.
I braved looking at this woman’s face and nearly stumbled off the path when I took in her lifeless eyes and slack jaw. Her dark eyes would have been pretty once, as well as her high cheek bones and heart-shaped lips. Once upon a time.
Now, she looked like a living corpse.
I stared at her long enough to see that her scalp was bleeding. Thick droplets of blood dripped from her hairline and streaked down her temples and into her eyes. As I watched, one of her hands snaked up to grip her hair as if she could rip it out. She clawed and scratched and opened more sores.
Sickness roiled through me. Persephone, Hade’s bride. She had been a goddess once, until Hades kidnapped her and forced her to be his queen. Her story was one of the great tragedies that helped instill a healthy fear of Hades in every little girl in the Greek circle. Now, seeing her like this… she looked completely robbed of life. Hades hadn’t just stolen her life and her godhood; he’d stolen everything inside of her. He’d left her an empty husk that did nothing but suffer and feel pain.
Had we accidentally wandered into the Underworld? But how?
We had to get out of here.
