Pitchfork Read online

“Alkaios!” Hades’ voice caught in her throat as she plummeted off the wall. Her fingers clawed at his body for aid, her stomach punched by the wall’s sharp ledge. The impact forced the air from her lungs, and her breath wheezed as pain dug into her abdomen. With divine speed, Alkaios grabbed Hades’ arm, jerking her to a halt as the witches dragged her down. Their talons ribboned her calves, the scent of crimson blood pitching them into a frenzy.

  “Let us eat her!” they cried in unison. “Let us taste!”

  Hades grit her teeth and pulled her legs up. Her knees grated against the jagged walls, but a wave of strength washed through her veins. She refused to be consumed by venomous monsters, refused to allow her blood to bathe the swollen lips of the demons below. Warmth flooded her as Alkaios pushed his power through her skin. Her muscles began to knit together, and Hades clutched his straining forearms as he hauled her to his side. Blood pooled around her toes. Its slickness threatened to slip her from her purchase, but Alkaios did not hesitate. He launched their bodies at the wall across the path not waiting for Hades’ flesh to fully heal. The ancient stone crumbled beneath their feet with each thundered landing, but they leapt from one wall’s ledge to the next, never slowing.

  Reaching the pillar, they dropped from atop the walls, and without pausing, Alkaios raced to the base and hunched his back.

  “Go!” he commanded, and Hades bolted forward. With a mighty leap, her foot slammed into Alkaios’ shoulder blades and vaulted her through the air, arms straining for the eye.

  Wham! Her spine screamed at the impact, and Hades plummeted toward earth. Her body hit the ground with a resounding thud as a screaming witch landed on top of her.

  “I want this one,” she crooned as Hades heaved beneath her, breath harsh and jagged. “She smells different. Gives her to meeeee!”

  Hades watched in horror as the witch drew a taloned finger to her lips and ripped the stitching out thread by thread, freeing her mouth. The stench of death bathed Hades’ face as a blackened tongue slid past the swollen lips. The coarse threads hung in swinging deformity as Hades struggled to throw the witch off, but the demon’s claws only dug in deeper, refusing to release her prey. Her putrid mouth grinned with savage hunger, revealing a row of filed fangs.

  “Why does this one smell different?” she hissed. Foul breath washed over Hades, the witch’s voice no longer in their minds but echoing clear in the air.

  Hades wrenched her arm free and punched the witch, but the mud-clothed woman merely flinched at the blow and retaliated by clutching the queen’s throat and slamming her head violently into a stone. Hades’ eyesight blurred, and she could feel the witch’s rough tongue drag across her cheek, tasting her sweat-bathed flesh.

  “Alkaios!” Hades yelled, bucking her hips in an attempt to dislodge the witch. “Get the eye!”

  Alkaios paused only for a moment, caught between aiding the woman he loved and obeying her command. His stomach clenched in nausea’s fist at the sight of the dark, oozing tongue savoring Hades’ cheek. His hesitation would cost Hades’ her flesh, and as the naked form peeled back rancid lips, he backed further into the clearing and bent his legs. The muscles in his thighs curled with tension, and loosing his fury, Alkaios vaulted up the pillar. He crashed into the pedestal and dug his hands into the unforgiving surface. His fingers burrowed deep, dislodging dust and pebbles as he raced to the eye.

  “This meat is so sweet,” the witch crooned below, and opening her jaw wide with a loathsome roar, she lunged for Hades’ face. Hades pitched sideways, but it was of little use. The witch’s talons were tethered in the queen’s flesh, and Hades knew she could not escape the razor fangs, so she recoiled into the dirt, pooling dark power in her chest. It churned and festered, begging for release. It yearned for the puncturing of flesh so it could flood this filth-clad monster with the poison of death, but just as her filed teeth grazed Hades’ throat, a hulking mass barreled through a shattering wall and collided with the witch’s bare skin. She screamed as Kerberos slammed into her, and with a crazed evil in his six eyes, he clamped all three of his massive jaws around the witch and pulled. With a sickening tear and a sudden muted scream, Kerberos tore her body into pieces. Blood dripped in sticky streams from his mouth, and he turned to stare at his mother. The witch’s head hung from one jaw, her torso in the middle, and her cleaved legs dangled from his third. Screams of anguish ripped through their skulls, and Kerberos spat the severed frame onto reddened mud. Carnage oozed down his necks to pool at his feet, and Kerberos loosed a roar in response to the demon’s mourning wails.

  The remaining witches barreled out of the maze and with a swift slit of their stitching, shredded the coarse twine binding their lips. They wailed, brandishing their fangs as they bore down on the offenders, but Kerberos leapt forward. His massive paws landed protectively on either side of Hades’ torso. The blood of the dead witch stained his hide in a warning. A warning they refused to heed.

  “Gives it back! Gives it back!” they both screamed suddenly as they skidded blindly to a halt. Their arms flailed. Their legs stiffened as their world was plunged into bitter darkness. “We have not had meat in so long.”

  “Silence!” Alkaios boomed. He had captured the eye in a solid fist, denying them their sight. Careful not to move his finger and let an ounce of light grace their eye, he extended his hand over the edge of the pillar where only jagged debris would cushion its fall. “Take one more step, and I will crush your sight.”

  “No! Gives it to us!”

  “No,” Alkaios said as Keres, Hydra, and Chimera suddenly burst into the clearing. “You will grant us safe passage through this maze now and once again when we leave. Only then will I return your eye, but if you attempt to kill or harm any of us, by the gods, I will crush it.”

  “Very well,” the witches spat. “We will allow you to pass, but you must gives us the eye when you are gone from our labyrinth.”

  “So be it,” Alkaios agreed and looked down at his wife. His heart finally slowed its frantic pace, and peace overtook him at the sight of her loving eyes peering up at him. With Keres’ help, Hades had stood to her feet, her body beginning the healing process, and all panic trickled from Alkaios’ veins as her skin fused together. “Hades, Medusa turns men to stone, so you, Keres, and Hydra have a better chance in that temple than I. Take the pitchfork and go. Find what you need so we can be rid of this place. The beasts and I will keep watch over these witches. Kerberos will eat them if they so much as move.” At that, the witches cried, their voices whining through the air, but a single growl from the hellhound silenced them.

  “Watch over him,” Hades said to Kerberos and Chimera as she bent and snatched the discarded weapon from the dust. Keres and Hydra followed as she began the trek toward the shrouded mountaintop.

  “Hades!” Alkaios called before she disappeared back into the maze, and Hades turned over her shoulder to look at her husband. “Be careful, my love.”

  VII

  Hades stood flanked by Keres and Hydra at the base of an ancient and massive temple. Battered and bruised by unkind centuries, the sanctuary loomed above them, its top disappearing into the clouds. The barren and harsh soil lay undisturbed before their feet, grey and bleak as far as the eye could see. The silence was desolate and eerie, an eternal graveyard reverent of the horror this place housed. Unlike the witch’s maze, this land was void of stone men. Empty and alone, the temple towered above them, its crumbling features hunched like a proud man bent under the weight of age.

  “I go alone from here,” Hades said into the stillness, gripping the pitchfork with white knuckles.

  “Absolutely not,” Keres hissed. “You will need us. If those witches were her guard dogs, how much more dangerous will Medusa be?”

  “That is why you cannot follow me,” Hades answered. “It is I who needs her answers. I will not risk your lives.”

  “We are with you always,” Hydra said, stepping forward to place her hand on Hades’ arm.

  “I know,” Hades re
plied, “but this is for me to do, and me alone. Whatever darkness I am about to face in there is somehow tied to me. I cannot allow my concern for you to distract me from this evil.”

  “We will wait here then,” Keres said, “but only if you promise to call upon us should you require our help.”

  “If I need you, I will call,” Hades promised as she separated from her companions. Her heels padded softly up the cracked steps toward the shadowed mouth, gaping to swallow her whole, and she entered the temple that until that moment had been nothing more than a myth.

  Hades slipped silently into the dark, eyes well-adjusted to the blackness of the crumbling structure. To her surprise, there were no statues within these walls, mimicking the barren land she had left Keres and Hydra to watch over. Perhaps all who stumbled upon this gods forsaken mountaintop never survived long enough to make it into the belly of the beast.

  Hades ventured further into the depths until all signs of the sun disappeared. Her feet made no noise on the archaic stone. Her senses remained peeled for any sign of life in this vast temple, but only oppressive silence greeted her. The absence of light would have rendered most intruders blind, but darkness was Hades’ home and no match for her. As the impenetrable blackness oppressed her vision, the heavy air turned suffocating, and Hades could feel an ancient presence brush against her skin. The beast was here. She was closing on the monster laying in wait for blinded prey. Pity the Underworld was darker, and Hades’ eyes were all seeing. Medusa would be cheated of an easy kill.

  And then there it was, ever so faint. Hades halted, ears hunting for the noise. It came again, the sound of a slithering snake. A body so impressive, its scales engulfed the vast hallways. Hades gripped the pitchfork, her skin electric. Medusa was here.

  Hades lowered her eyes to the floor and cocked her head sideways, staring down her arm to the dark stone. From this moment on, her sight must remain cast down. It seemed no one ever made it into the temple to be petrified, and Hades would not be the first. Her body quieted to listen for the slithering as she held her breath. It came again, growing closer, tickling Hades’ right ear.

  Whack! Something whipped out from the dark silence to her left. Instinctively, Hades raised her eyes but forced their focus back to the ground as she lunged out of the way. That small glimpse, though, was all she needed to see a massive tail crash with a viciously crushing purpose. Hades swung the pitchfork faster than the tail could retract and plunged the dual prongs into the scales. She thrust with such demand; they pierced clear through the flesh and drove against the stone tiles. In the obscurity of the hidden hallways, Medusa sucked in a breath of pain. Her first mistake. Hades now knew where she was, and like Hydra, the beast’s head would be her weakness.

  Hades bolted through the darkness. Her feet slapped the floor with an uncanny silence, and within moments, she slid around a pillar. Launching into the air, Hades curled her knee and felt the sickening blow reverberate through her bones. Medusa cried out as Hades’ kneecap cracked her face. The beast plummeted backward, but her speed was alarming for a creature of such mass. Before Hades’ heels could reconnect with the ground, Medusa’s massive tail barreled through the corridor and into Hades’ back. The impact hurtled the queen of death forward, and Hades tumbled through the air before slamming face first on the cold, hard stone. No sooner did she hit the floor, she rolled to her feet just as the tip of a spear pierced the space where her heart had been. A solitary breath barely had time to escape Hades’ lips when the air whistled a second warning. In a flash, Hades lifted her hand and caught the careening spear. With a single snap of her wrist, her iron fist shattered the wooden handle into splinters, the broken pieces clattering to the tiles with little ceremony.

  A sudden slithering rushed behind her, and Hades leapt into the air just as the tail thrashed beneath her and landed lightly on the massive scaled body. With deft speed, she bolted up the tail, feet slapping the icy scales. Gracefully, Hades vaulted over the beast’s head and wrapped her legs around a neck seething with snakes. With a jerk, she pitched forward, sending both of them diving for ground, but Hades caught herself at the last moment and used her thighs to force Medusa’s face into the stone. The woman let out a scream of pain as her nose shattered, and Hades took advantage of the monster’s averted gaze to flick her eyes to Medusa’s downcast skull. The tiny snakes that composed her hair seethed in fury. Their miniscule faces challenged the dark queen, but she ignored their taunts and hoisted the pitchfork above their bodies. The weapon plummeted, its aim true and harsh, but just as metal was about to strike skin, Medusa reared her tail and drove it against Hades’ ribs. The raven-haired beauty balked and tumbled to the floor. In a fraction of a second, the serpent slithered forward and grabbed Hades’ ankles, dragging her onto her back. Hades slammed her eyes shut as Medusa loomed above her, the snakes licking the scent of flesh off the air.

  Hades bucked, and Medusa beat her spine into the stone with jarring strength. In her blindness, Hades could hear a spear drag across the tiles. Panic reared its ugly venom in her chest, but Hades smothered it, and before Medusa could react, she slammed the pitchfork into her attacker. The snakes screamed their pain, but Hades did not stop. She crushed the metal against Medusa’s skull repeatedly, blood splattering her fist, and when she felt the serpent’s grip loosen, she drove her head into Medusa’s, sending the monster sprawling.

  Hades panted with exertion and scrambled to her feet. Eyes trained on the floor, she cracked her eyelids to slits, and watched the impossibly large body slither away before it doubled back on itself. Through her lashes, Hades saw Medusa’s torso lunge, human hands reaching down to seize a spear in each.

  Refusing to allow the beast the upper hand, Hades launched herself at her opponent. Pitchfork raised. Eyes pitched down. Medusa swung both spears and blocked the assault with bone-jarring force, yet Hades simply sidestepped the assaulting tail and drove her bident down. The razor prongs pierced Medusa’s scales. The scream that ripped from Medusa’s lungs was the only warning she gave before plunging the spear at her intruder, but it was all the warning Hades needed. The queen whirled on her heels and caught the pike as its tip grazed her forehead. With a groan, Hades heaved the spear free and flung it to the ground. Without wasting a single breath, Medusa aimed her second spear, but the clang of metal echoed through the temple as the pitchfork deflected it.

  “Look at me!” Medusa demanded; their weapons locked in electric resistance. Hades’ only response was a wicked punch to Medusa’s mouth. The beast staggered, spitting blood, and Hades’ coiled her foot and kicked Medusa savagely in the gut. The snakes screamed, tiny voices piercing the echoes, but Hades refused to relent. She drove her knee into the beast’s belly as she fell upon the scaled body and punched Medusa. Her aim was true as ribs cracked beneath her knuckles. From behind, Hades sensed the serpent’s tail and swung the pitchfork, slicing the flesh. The pain-filled scream was all she needed to pinpoint the monster’s head, and in a flash, the pitchfork hurtled through the air. The sound of its metal curve strangling vocal cords echoed in the vast space followed closely by the ringing clash of the dual prongs burying into the stone wall.

  Hades paused, Medusa’s grappling with the bident in an attempt to escape the only movement in the empty space. But it was no use. Only Hades could free her now.

  Eyes still downcast, Hades maneuvered around the serpent’s writhing body and seized the end of the pitchfork. With a massive heave, she yanked it from Medusa’s neck and raised it for the final blow, but just as she lifted her arm, a hand clutched her wrist in a desperate hold.

  “There is only one person who can wield this pitchfork like you do,” Medusa hissed. “And I have been waiting for you for a very long time.”

  VIII

  “Yes, my dear,” Medusa hissed. “I have been waiting for you for a long time… Hades.”

  Hades froze, the pitchfork’s blow halted midair. She stared down at the human fingers that gripped her free wrist and the immense serpent that
coiled behind her.

  “How do you know who I am?” Hades whispered into the darkness.

  “Because… I have been watching you.” At her words, her body began to shrivel. Inch by inch, foot by foot it shrank until the colossal mass dissipated. In the colossal serpent’s place stood two very human feet peeking from beneath a tattered skirt. “I always knew the day you found me would come too soon.”

  “Why did the Oracle send me in search of you?” Hades asked, eyes still trained on the ground.

  “Because I hold the answers you seek,” Medusa answered, her voice no longer a hiss. “And I have something to show you. Come, you may raise your eyes.”

  “I am no fool. I will not be added to your stone collection.”

  “My dear,” Medusa laughed, “I have no desire to turn you to stone. I know the fate that awaits me should I curse you. The Olympian god of death waits outside for you, and I saw how that dog of yours shredded the witch. I do not wish to anger such opponents. Come, you may look up. I assure you my eyes hold no power now.”

  Hades lowered her weapon but made no move to lift her gaze. Medusa’s assurances of safety could be a cornered animal’s desperate attempt to save itself from a superior predator, and for a breath, Hades’ desire for truth battled with her better judgment. Medusa remained silent, allowing the queen of death to weigh her decision, but curiosity conquered Hades’ urge for preservation. With careful dignity, she leveled her gaze at the beast trapped before her. For the first time in centuries, eyes fell on Medusa’s face without consequence, and Hades sucked air into her lungs. An impossibly beautiful woman stood before her with eyes slit like a snake’s and hair composed of small green-scaled snakes. The pulsating mass hung docile at the moment, coiled around each other to form a long braid.

  “By the gods,” Hades muttered, “I cannot believe you are real.”