Pitchfork Page 12

  “Hello, Poseidon,” Medusa said with a soft smile as the rest lifted their heads.

  “I have no memory of ever meeting you,” the king of the seas said, studying her face. “How could I have turned you into this?” He gestured to her head of snakes.

  “You did not do this,” she said kindly to him. “I was born this way. I am a Gorgon, an ancient race of warriors.”

  “The myth?”

  “Is just a myth. I have been guarding the door long before the Titans rose to power. I know how to manipulate belief. I needed to remain hidden, known only in stories. If I stayed concealed, so did the door, but my name needed to pass down through the generations in case this ever came to pass. I am the only one who was there when it was sealed and may be the only person who can help you.”

  “Well, you failed in your protection,” Hera sneered, and both her husband and brother shot her a warning look. Her unchecked mouth could damn them all.

  “I was never supposed to guard it alone,” Medusa explained, unfazed by Hera’s disrespect. “In the beginning, the Gorgons were plentiful. A race of female warriors, we guarded the gate, but not from the Old Ones. We defended their domain from earth. Their realm is not meant for those of this world. We were not created to oppose an Old One, and on the day the first gods committed genocide, my kindred were slaughtered in their attempt to stop the bloodshed. I would have perished alongside my sisters if Hades’ ancestor had not tasked me with safeguarding the door. When he cast his wife and unborn child to earth, he did not know of the prophecy. He died before it carved its words into the stone and believed I would protect his seal from both mortals and the gods who came after. Not his own flesh and blood. Not his equal. That is why I failed. Hades is one of the first… she is stronger than us all.”

  “So, that is it?” Zeus asked after a long and heavy silence. He looked around at those he called friends and brothers and saw the beginning signs of fear etched on their faces. “They have returned, greater than we will ever be. Our reign has come to an end.”

  “Perhaps,” Medusa said hesitantly, “but all might not be lost yet.” Medusa flicked her eyes to Hades and then to the pitchfork in Alkaios’ hand. “The prophecy said when the last of their kind reunited with the lost weapon, the Old Ones would rise to power once again. Hades came to possess that pitchfork some time ago, yet the words they spoke through the Oracle of Delphi were just prophesied. Hades woke them from a centuries-long death, but they took time to manifest themselves. They are not gaining power quickly, which means we may still have time. Their strength is tied to Hades, and when she found the pitchfork, the dormant god within her woke. It has always been there, though. It is the reason the seal of the Underworld broke before her, but it was dormant all the same. The weapon awoke it, and her strength has grown ever since. It is why Hell still obeys her. It recognizes her greater power. Fighting Hades this morning told me she is stronger than she was a few weeks ago when we first clashed. She is not at full strength, and I believe it is because the door to her realm was shut. Her ancestors’ power grows from hers, but hers also from them. While sealed, neither can reach their true potential, so while Hades surpasses us, she is not yet fully Old One. Now that it is broken, her power will increase at a rapid pace, as will theirs, but we have a small window where they remain weakened by separation. There is a chance that if we all work together and use Hades while she is in control of her mind, we may push them back into their own dimension and cage them once again.”

  “Why not kill them?” interrupted Zeus. “If these gods are as terrible as you say, then we should destroy them instead of caging them in the hopes they are never unleashed again.”

  “I do not think we can,” Medusa answered, a note of defeat in her voice. “Just because they are not at full strength does not mean they will be easy to kill.”

  “But we are the greats,” Poseidon interjected. “Surely Zeus, Alkaios, and I can stand against them.”

  “We might destroy a few, but we could never eradicate them all, and once they recover from their first death, they will be nearly impossible for us to slay. If you do not believe me, try ending Hades right here and now,” Medusa said, looking to the bruised and bloody form of the Underworld’s queen. “Even in her weakened state, it will take all three of you to subdue her. Imagine confronting a host of them. It will be our genocide if we face them, and once they fully rise to power, Hades is the only one strong enough to challenge them head-on. But by that point, I doubt she will remain the woman we know. I do not believe war is an option.”

  “We must listen to her,” Alkaios spoke into the room. “She is the only person left alive who knows the Old Ones.”

  “If they are so great we cannot stand against them, how are we supposed to trap them?” Poseidon asked.

  “We have one advantage,” Medusa answered. “The last time these gods were free, they slaughtered each other. Generations of death will have done nothing to ease their animosity. If being massacred by your own family was your final memory, your waking thoughts would be of revenge, especially if the Touch of the God’s had driven your mind to insanity. They were not gods who worked together; they never had to with their absolute power. Centuries of genocide have most likely made it worse. There will be chaos among them, but if we work collectively, we may catch them unaware. They know not of the Olympians; their concern will be for their own conflict. It will take all of us, but we can strike while they are off guard. Trap them with Hades as bait; use their blind hatred against them.”

  “You believe that could work?” Zeus’ eyebrows raised incredulously.

  “I am not sure,” Medusa said wearily, “but little else is an option.”

  “I will act as bait,” Hades said decidedly. “We will find them and trap them. We will do this together,” she said pointedly at Zeus and Poseidon, “or we die alone.”

  “Once trapped,” Alkaios interjected, “the Olympians will seal the door. When Hades saved me, she transferred the Olympian in her. I am now the Olympian god of the Underworld, while she is the Old One of the Underworld. If we seal the gate, she cannot open it, not if it is a blood seal.”

  “But he will,” Medusa said with heaviness, and the entire chamber turned their raised eyebrows to her. Medusa peered at the questioning faces and understanding washed over her. “You do not know, do you?” she asked softly, looking to Hades and then to Alkaios. When both of them stared at her blankly, she twisted to Hera, who was the only one not wearing a confused expression. “But you do.” Medusa’s eyes bore down on the high queen. “You sensed it… god of motherhood?”

  The entire council went rigid, and Alkaios’ eyes flew to Hades before flicking to Hera. Hera sighed uncomfortably under the expectant stares and gave an almost imperceptible nod.

  “Hades is with child,” Hera whispered into the silent room. “It is a son.”

  “The sickness Hades has endured these past weeks has nothing to do with the prophecy,” Medusa continued. “It was nature telling her of he who is to come.”

  Alkaios stared at Hades’ battered form curled on his throne. Before he realized he was moving, he was up the stairs, his body drawn to her, unable to resist. The room watched in a trance as Alkaios forgot his audience and took Hades’ bruised face in his hands and knelt before his wife.

  “A son,” Alkaios whispered as he leaned his forehead against hers, “we are going to have a son.” At his words, Hades burst into tears and enveloped her husband’s neck in her arms. For a moment, the terror on their doorstep faded away as joy seeped into the room.

  “He will be Olympian,” came Medusa’s wavering voice, breaking the spell that had fallen over the chamber. Alkaios peeled his forehead from Hades’ and twisted his gaze to the Gorgon. Darkness passed over his eyes, and he gripped his wife with possessiveness only a husband could conjure.

  “The child will be half Olympian,” Medusa continued, the heartbreak marring her features not halting her words. “Therefore, he could break your seal. But he w
ill also be Old One. The madness growing in his mother, the hysteria of his ancestors, will pass to him, granting him both the means and the desire to open the door. They will use the boy to free themselves again, and unlike this time, they will not be weakened.”

  “What are you saying?” Alkaios asked, rising to his full height and settling himself protectively before Hades.

  “That even if we manage to lock them back whence they came, Hades is one of them,” Medusa said, the fear of her words plain on her face. “It would be unwise to let one of their monsters roam this earth. Even a single creature of absolute power, with a mind of violent insanity, could bring this world to its knees. We are not safe, not while Hades remains free. You cannot seal the door with the blood of an Old One for Hades will break it again, but the boy could shatter any Olympian bond this council creates. Just like his mother, it will draw him. He will not resist, and despite the fact they will consider him a half-bred, an abomination, they would use him as the means to their freedom.” Medusa took a deep breath and surveyed the room before landing on Hades. “The only way this works, the only way we are safe, is if we imprison you in their dimension with them.”

  “You best not be serious, monster,” Alkaios erupted, thundering down the few steps until he stood before the Gorgon. The entire chamber detonated, and Zeus leapt to his feet, bolt tightly gripped in hand, prepared in case Alkaios struck Medusa. “Because I will never let you lock her up with them. I will not allow you to take her from me so they can rip out our son and sacrifice him to their madness!”

  “She is no longer your wife!” Medusa said in frustration, “she is one of them! Look at what Hades did last night! None of us stopped her, but it is the child I am most concerned about. If he opens that door, their power will be absolute and the carnage worldwide. Even if we left his mother to roam our earth, we do not have the luxury of time to wait for his birth. We must act swiftly, and we cannot allow Hades to remain free.”

  “That is not an option!” Black smoke leaked from Alkaios’ body as a manifestation of his rage. “You find another way, Gorgon, for if anyone so much lays a hand on my wife’s head, I will drag them to Tartarus myself.”

  “And while you are searching for another way, the world will collapse in fire and blood,” Medusa said.

  “Stop!” Hades yelled into the room, her voice a booming interruption as Alkaios opened his mouth to spew more fury. “Please stop,” she said softer, looking deep into her beloved husband’s mud-blue eyes. Rage burned fierce in them, but the smoke encircling his body dissipated at her request.

  “Is there perhaps another way?” she asked Medusa, sorrow flooding her question. To hear in one breath she was carrying the child of the man she loved and then in the next to learn his fate was that of destruction made her sick, and the arguing banged around the walls of her skull like a possessed hammer. She felt exhausted and hallow, and her injured form on the throne was small and shrunken.

  “I do not know,” Medusa said, her face mirroring the exhaustion and pain in Hades’. “You are gods. Perhaps you can see a way I cannot, but I would not harbor hope. I have witnessed that evil that comes. You will be playing with fire.”

  “But there could be a way?” Desperation oozed from Alkaios’ pores.

  “This is a time where I do not believe having faith is wise,” Medusa said. “Hope could kill us all.”

  “Do not take hope away from him,” Hades whispered. “It is all he has right now… it is all I have.” Tears flooded her eyes, and as they fell, the entire chamber of gods sat rooted to their seats, their hearts breaking. There may not be a great love between them and Hades, but watching her fight the sorrow was too much to bear. Aphrodite was the first to shed a tear, and before long, others joined the raven-haired beauty’s despair.

  “I brought this evil into this world,” Hades continued, wiping tears from her eyes only for new ones to replace them. “If this is to be my fate, I accept it. I will not let the world burn for my failure, but allow my husband to hope. Let him try to save me… to save us.” Hades stood stiffly and made her way to the middle of the room and took Alkaios’ hand. “Let him try,” she cried, studying the face she loved dearly.

  “I will find a way,” Alkaios whispered, tears brimming in his eyes as he brushed hers from her lips.

  “But I understand there might not be another path.” Hades looked to Medusa. “I am aware we do not have time to waste on my salvation.” She turned around to Zeus whose face was etched with a strange combination of horror and sorrow.

  “So, Zeus,” Hades sobbed, “Alkaios will never stop trying to save me, but at some point, it might be too late. He will not admit it, but it will be. I need you, king of the gods, to recognize when time has run out. I need you to make that hard choice because it will kill my husband to do so. Please do this for me. When all is lost, I want you to lock me behind that door with them.”

  “I will,” Zeus promised solemnly as a single tear trailed down his perfect cheek.

  “No!” Alkaios blurted through his tears. “Do not trust him with this. He wished you dead before. Who is to say he will not lock you in there unnecessarily?”

  “Have some faith in me, god of death,” Zeus shot back. “I may have wanted her dead, but do you think so little of me to believe I want this? How could you think I would revel in condemning her and her unborn son to an eternity of torture? I do not want this any more than you.” Another tear wandered down his cheek as he turned to Hades. “I swear by my throne. I hope your husband finds a way, but if he cannot, I vow I will not make him do it.”

  “Thank you,” Hades mouthed and wiped her eyes. “It is decided.” She stepped closer to Alkaios and grasped his arm, clinging to him as if he was the only thing keeping her standing. “We will search the earth for them, and when we find them, we will send them back to where they came from. And if it is my fate, I will join them… now please excuse me, I would like to go home while I still have a home to go to.”

  At her words, fresh tears burst from her eyes, and Alkaios enveloped her in his strong arms before they vanished in tentacles of black smoke. Medusa, nodding to both Zeus and Poseidon, withdrew her presence, and after a long and heavy silence, the god trickled out of the room.

  “How could this all be true?” Poseidon asked, heaviness coloring his voice.

  “I do not know.” Zeus placed his hand on his brother’s shoulder. “But I think we must believe it. If we do not, and the monster is right, it will be too late.”

  “I understand. I just hope they are wrong, and not so much for our sake, but for Hades’. I do not care what has happened between us, I do not want that to happen to a new mother.”

  All Zeus could do in response was shake his head as another tear threatened to shed from his eyes. He turned away from his brother and saw a heartbroken Artemis still collapsed on her throne. She and Hades had been friends decades ago when Hades won her immortality. Hades, a mere human, had helped bring down the Titan demi-god rebellion along with a mortal that Artemis loved, but in the end, Hades was brought to Olympus a hero, and Orion’s lifeless body was added to the stars. Zeus remembered those beginning days when the grief of the two women who loved Orion the most bonded their hearts.

  “Artemis,” Zeus said. At his words, the goddess of the hunt jerked to swipe her streaked face. Zeus looked sympathetically at her and then opened his palm. One of her arrows, simple wood inlaid with vines of gold, appeared in his hand.

  “If it comes to that,” Zeus said, handing her the arrow, “I want you to be ready. I may have to lock her behind that door, but by the gods, may I be struck dead if I let her suffer for eternity with them. If I cage her, I need your aim to be true. As that gate shuts, do not miss. I would rather Hades die than be ripped to shreds.”

  “My aim is always true,” Artemis sobbed as she took the arrow from Zeus. “I will strike her in the heart. Her end will be swift. I will not miss.”

  XIII

  The soft footsteps at the door woke A
lkaios from his thoughts, and he shifted his eyes in the darkened room to see whom they heralded.

  “Hello,” Keres whispered, leaning against the doorframe, and Alkaios stood from his chair to join her in the doorway. “How is she?” Keres nodded toward Hades who slept curled against Kerberos’ protective belly. Alkaios shook his head softly in the pale light of the hallway’s torches. He looked distraught and haggard, and Keres forced her eyes from him, unable to watch as he ran a hand over his hair in a defeated motion.

  “Hephaestus is here.” Keres shifted her weight to peer at Hades. “It is possible he can help.”

  “You built her a cage?” Alkaios asked after Hephaestus explained the prison Keres had begged him to build.

  “I started to, but I never would have deployed it without your approval.”

  “Would it have worked?” Hades interrupted. She sat slouched on the old throne, feet propped up on the warm hide of Kerberos’ back.

  “I am not sure,” the smith answered, “but I am inclined to say no. I built this cage for you, Hades, as Persephone the Queen of the Underworld. No prison created for her would ever hold you, Hades, who perhaps is the true god of death despite the power you gave your husband.”

  “Why bring this to us now?” Hades asked, fatigue lacing her voice. “It is too late.”

  “Because I could not stop you from breaking that seal, but perhaps I can keep you from being locked behind that door.”

  “You can do that?” Alkaios leaned forward as if he was trying to catch the hope carried on the smith’s words.

  “Perhaps,” Hephaestus repeated lifting his soot-stained hand in a calming gesture. “Before, this would not have held Hades. I did not know who she truly was, but now that I know her truth, maybe I can tailor this prison for her and her unborn child. I will attempt to create a maze in the Underworld that will keep her and her son lost here for eternity while granting all others the freedom to leave. If we manage to imprison the Old Ones back from whence they came, perhaps Hades can be imprisoned here instead.”