“Of course it will,” Ares interrupted. “We’ll talk more of it later.”
I had to smile, just a little. Ares was so arrogant, which was one of the traits that I loved about him. Did he truly think that everything would be fine simply because he decreed it so?
“So, we go to Tartara,” Aphrodite said. “We should move. I feel much better now. Someone else can wear the helm.” She passed it to Cadmus. He tried to give it to one of Ortrera’s warriors, but true to her nature, she insisted that he take it first.
“I’m fine,” the muscled Amazon insisted. “You should go first.” Her legs shook with exhaustion and pain, so it was evident that she was not ‘fine’, but she would never admit that.
Cadmus tried arguing with her for a few minutes before he realized that it was useless and he plunked the helm onto his head in resignation. As I looked at his chiseled face staring from under the visor, I had visions of watching him spar and fight in Egypt so long ago. My husband had always been a warrior.
It was strange. I was the goddess of peace, yet the two men I loved more than anyone in the world, my husband and my father, were warriors. And that was a fact that would come in handy in Tartara, I was certain.
I had never been there, but I had heard stories. Tartara was the place where the damned were sent, the heinous souls. It was guarded by the Eryines and contained the Dungeon of the Damned, where the most hideous of prisoners were punished for all of eternity. It was said to be dark and desolate and it killed me to think that my daughter might be there.
“We need to go,” I breathed, quickly turning and walking quickly toward the horizon.
“How do you know that you’re going the right way?” Aphrodite called. I pointed upward at the cloud of butterflies that was lingering over my head directly in front of me.
“I think Ahmose is leading the way,” I answered. If someone had told me even last week that I would be following a swarm of butterflies to the gates of hell, I would have thought they were crazy. But here I was.
Once again, we walked for hours. As we hiked onward, we felt fairly certain that we were going the right way because the sky darkened up as we continued.
The Amazons rotated the helm throughout their numbers until everyone had healed up and then Aphrodite and I passed it back and forth as our strength waned. I actually started to wonder if this was the very reason why Rhadamanthus had told us to acquire it in the first place. He had probably known, just as Ahmose had, what effects the Underworld would have on the two of us.
My legs were feeling overwhelmingly weary when I noticed a glow to the sky in the horizon, right where the sky met the land. As we continued on and drew closer, I realized that it was fire, a long line of it. I studied it curiously, but couldn’t make heads or tails of it until we were upon it. And then I realized what it was.
It was the river Phlegethon… or otherwise known as the River of Fire.
I glanced down both lengths of it and it seemed to stretch on forever. It was wide, far too wide to leap across, even wearing the helm. The orange flames lapped up from the surface, grabbing at the fresh air that fed it. I could feel the heat from the fire from here and I couldn’t see any way that we would be able to get through the flames to Tartara’s gates.
My shoulders slumped and I sat abruptly on the ground, staring at the flames in desolation. I was so, so tired. Too tired to even begin to think of a good plan. Before I had even realized it, Cadmus sat next to me and pulled me into his lap. I began to squirm away, but he held me fast.
“Don’t,” he suggested. “Just let me hold you. It doesn’t mean that you’ve forgiven me. It only means that you’re still my wife and you’re allowing me to comfort you.”
He was right and I knew it. No matter what, no matter how hurt I was, he was my husband and I loved him more than anything. I leaned my head against his strong chest. He smelled like a man, like sweat and his familiar outdoorsy scent. I inhaled it as I closed my eyes. He stroked my back and allowed me to sit in silence for a few minutes. I heard the others discussing the river and how to cross it, but I didn’t even open my eyes.
Instead, I silently cried. The stress, the drama and the emotion from the past couple of days welled up in me and I couldn’t control it. The tears began flowing. As they did, my wrist started throbbing. The outline of my birthmark began glowing and I startled, gripping it, although it didn’t hurt.
“What is happening?” I murmured through my tears. Cadmus snatched up my wrist and examined it, but before he could say anything, Ortrera shouted.
“Look!”
I followed her finger and gasped as the Phoenix descended upon us. It was massive and majestic as it swooped low over the river. The flames from the river leapt up and bled into the flames of the Phoenix. Its eyes were glowing and blue and they were fixated on me. I suddenly knew that I had somehow called it.
It landed a short distance away from us and stood quietly, its large wings quivering every so often. It was bigger than I remembered, as large as a small horse. Just as I remembered, it was made from flame, with brilliant blue eyes. As it burned, it studied me and I felt compelled to get up and walk toward it.
I stood in front of it and it dipped low, as if bowing to me. I shook my head.
“You don’t need to bow to me,” I murmured.
It remained in position and I looked uncertainly at the others.
“What do you think it wants?” I could feel the fire from its wings heating my cheeks and Cadmus grasped my hand.
“I think it wants you to climb onto its back,” he said quietly.
“But I’ll get burned,” I protested, staring once again at the bird. One azure eye looked up at me. It did certainly seem like it wanted me to crawl onto its back. I took a shaky step.
“Remember the pit on Calypso’s island?” my mother questioned me. “After the Phoenix appeared and you stepped into the fire, you didn’t get burned.”
The phoenix bowed even lower.
I caught a shaky breath and reached out to grip its neck. His fire did not burn me. Cadmus grabbed my waist and thrust me up onto its back and then quickly swung up behind me. I looked to him in alarm.
“As If I’d let you go alone,” he admonished, raising his dark eyebrow. The light from the phoenix reflected off of his shiny, dark hair making it almost seem as if he was glowing.
“But you didn’t know… you could’ve been burned. You didn’t know if I was the only one immune or not…”