‘Easy now,’ Danae called as they jolted down past the marble-threaded rock. A bitter coldness enveloped them, the air so oppressive it felt as though it had not been disturbed for several lifetimes. Hylas took them lower and lower and still she could not see the bottom. She began to wonder if there was an end at all, if the poor miners who’d been caught in the collapse were still falling endlessly into the darkness.
‘Look, below on the far wall!’ shouted Orpheus.
She peered down, her eyes raking across the rock until she spotted a horizontal split, just wide enough for Hylas to alight.
The horse landed on the ledge and once she and Orpheus had dismounted, Danae took in their surroundings. The cleft in the stone gave way to another passage, similar in size to the first, yet here the walls were smooth and rippled like a seabed, as though they had been worn down by the elements, rather than chiselled by man.
They did not have to go far before encountering their first challenge. A fork in their path. The passage was revealed to be part of a series of natural tunnels that burrowed into the rock bed, splitting into a labyrinth.
‘Which way?’ asked Orpheus.
As Danae gazed at the passages, she glimpsed a dash of movement in the one on the left. She grabbed the torch from Orpheus and ran a few steps into the tunnel. The undulations in the stone threw pitted shadows along its length, but the passage appeared empty.
‘Did you see that?’
‘No.’
‘There was movement, I saw something …’
‘There’s nothing there, Daeira,’ he pressed, then repeated, ‘Which way do we go?’
She turned slowly to look at him. Orpheus’ face was drawn in the flame light. Unease crawled up her spine. Was he deceiving her?
‘How did you discover there was an entrance to the Underworld in Taenarum?’
The musician’s brow furrowed. ‘A farmer in the neighbouring village to mine said he’d heard there was an entrance at the furthest point of mainland Greece. He could tell me little else, but I had to try …’
Danae stared at him, wishing her gaze could pierce those red-rimmed eyes and lay bare what thoughts swam beneath.
She looked back at the tunnels and forced herself to make a choice.
‘We go this way.’
Their path split again and again. Each time they were forced to choose, Danae tried not to think of the odds mounting against them. Orpheus followed at her heels like a child, always looking to her to decide the way. She cursed herself again for not extracting more information from Theseus. A map for a start.
Her mouth had grown parched. They could have been below ground for hours or days, without the sun she could not tell.
‘Take this,’ she proffered Orpheus the torch and drew out a waterskin from Hylas’ saddle bag, along with his bowl. She poured the horse a drink, took a draught herself, then offered the skin to the musician. ‘Don’t suppose you’ve got any more food in that bag?’
Orpheus shook his head, took a glug, then handed back the skin.
They only had enough water between them to last another day or two. After that it would be a slow, painful death by dehydration.
‘Before, you said you wanted to bring Eurydice home,’ Danae said as she packed away Hylas’ bowl. ‘How will you do that?’
‘I will convince Hades to fashion her a new body, just like the old one.’
Danae’s chest tightened. ‘You believe he has that power?’
‘Yes,’ Orpheus said simply. ‘The gods can do anything.’
She thought of Hera, the Queen of the Gods, blazingin golden majesty, as she had hurled spears of ice at Danae atop the Caucasus Mountains. Fear, all-encompassing as the darkness around them, threatened to consume her as she imagined what would happen if she fell into Hades’ hands.
The musician will not find what he seeks. Nor will you, said the voice.There is no afterlife in the Underworld.
A wave of weariness crashed over her. It was much harder to battle the voice when she was sleep-deprived and ravenous.
She tucked the waterskin back in the far saddle bag, but as she reached for the strap the horse jerked away from her, tossing his head.
