Chapter 8: Death Reincarnate
The Cyclops moved closer to them with every single breath they took. It
felt like the air was getting warmer—Josephine’s skin was boiling to the touch.
She’d never had to fight for her life like this. Cyclops were known for
being rather violent. They usually didn’t usually attack others or go out of
their way to harm people unless they were convinced to by a god, or someone
wondered into their hideouts. This must have been the home of one.
Her father’s words replayed over and over in her head. Surely Persephone
brought some weapons. There was no way for Josephine to smuggle any knives or a
bow and arrow through the gates; the guards would’ve noticed immediately.
Josephine and Persephone didn’t even discuss the need for any weapons. There
was no other way to cut off the Cyclops’ nose or gouge his eyes. Unless…
“How good is your aim?” Josephine asked, her breath scarce with every
inhale. They needed to steady their breathing. Ares always emphasized how
panicking didn’t help in any situation. She may not be close with her father,
but she always knew those were wise words.
“I’m better with hand-to-hand combat,” Persephone whispered, backing up
so that her back was pushed up against the stone wall, “Why?”
“We need to blind him. “We need to throw these stones,” Josephine picked
up a ragged, chipped stone from the ground, and handed another to her friend, “I’ll
throw the first one, but I have to get his attention. If we confuse him, we may
be able to get away.”
“Look at you, using your brain and all. I’m proud, princess.”
“We need to talk about that new ‘princess’ nickname you have for me
later. Right now, let’s focus on this hungry monster,” Josephine threw a stone
behind the Cyclops, which caused it to turn around and inspect. Josephine took
that time slot to slide silently across the dirt and onto the large boulder on
the right of the one she was previously hiding behind. Persephone nodded.
Josephine chucked the first stone at the Cyclops, barely missing his eye
by an inch. It hit him in the cheekbone, causing him to spin back around and
groan loudly. The whole tunnel shook—more stones scattered at their feet and
dropped from the ceiling, causing them to shield themselves. He knew their
general location now. They needed to handicap him, and quick.
Persephone threw the next stone, and in between all the rumbling and
dust from the shattered walls, the Cyclops was confused on where it came from.
It hit him square in the iris. He screamed in agony and raised a hand to his
bleeding eye, “WHERE ARE YOU? I will rip you apart slowly and use your bones to
pluck my teeth!”
“NOW!” Josephine yelled as she darted in between the Cyclops legs. The
top of her head just barely made it underneath, and her feet ached with
soreness as she ran as fast as she could towards the opening of light beyond
them.
She could hear Persephone’s footsteps behind her. She also felt the
tremble of the Earth beneath her feet, and with each step she knew that the
Cyclops could sense their movements. She just barely reached the end of the
tunnel before the sound of her friend’s screams caused her to halt.
The Cyclops had Persephone.
“Go!” Persephone screamed in terror, her eyed bulging.
Josephine stood there, frozen. She wasn’t going to leave her friend, but
she also wanted to live. She didn’t want to die in the hands of a monster. What
would she be called then? A coward is what they’d call her. She took a step
towards the large thing that was the Cyclops.
“Drop her or the gods will kill you,” Josephine said to him, “You are
holding the Queen of the Underworld in your hand!”
The corner of his mouth curled into a grin, “She will be delicious in my
stew, then. Goddesses always taste better than—”
The Cyclops’ mouth dropped. The air became almost unbearably chilly, and
darkness surrounded the floor. It danced around the Cyclops ankles, causing him
to stumble backwards. Josephine felt someone behind her. She smelled death.
“Hello, my love,” A deep voice purred behind her, “And hello, Daughter
of Ares. Brontes, I would drop my bride if I were you.”
~
They trekked the Valencia Desert alongside the God of the Underworld. He
was much leaner than Josephine imagined, with his skinny frame and sunken skin.
He walked with grace, and darkness followed. He was death reincarnate.
Her mother would scold her if she knew who Josephine was next to. She’d
been quite clear to stay away from dark gods—such as Hecate and Hades.
Josephine thought he would look older, but appearance wise he was in his
mid-twenties. Josephine stayed silent while Persephone and her lover exchanged
words—they talked of Persephone’s first two victories in the Trials and about
how much Tartarus missed her. They didn’t seem at all like the storybooks told;
they actually looked in love.
The Valencia Desert was a wide-ranged land filled with hot sand and sun. The sky was a pink hue, with dunes layered as far as the eye could see. Most people mortals who entered the Valencia Desert never returned, but the
three of them were deities. Their skin was created to withstand most elements.
“I would make the weather more bearable if I could, but for some reason my magic doesn’t work
in Valencia,” Persephone said as she wiped a heap of sweat from her temple.
“It’s radioactive,” Hades said. His voice was a haunting, seductive
growl. No wonder Persephone fell in love with him. He stopped walking and held
out his hand to his lover, bowing in her direction, “I have a meeting to attend
to, my love. I’m sorry I couldn’t stay and get to know your…,” he glanced at
Josephine, “friend. I assume we will meet another time. Remember, stay hidden
when you get to Troy. Hermes is not as dumb as one may think.”
So, Hades knew about the plan. This changed things. Josephine now
wasn’t sure if Persephone was avenging herself, or Hades. She needed to find
out who she was really fighting for.
He disappeared in a cloud of obsidian, and nothing was left of his
presence besides the smell of death. Josephine shuddered, “That went well.
You’re lucky he sensed you were in danger, Persephone. You could’ve died!”
“I knew he would come for me,” Persephone continued walking. Her shirt
was now soaked with sweat. At this point, Josephine had sweat so much—that her
undergarments looked one shade darker. Her white blouse was now a deep gray
color.
They said nothing to each other for the next hour in the Desert.
Josephine was visibly in pain—her limbs and skin burned with every breath, and
her cheeks started to blister along with her lips. Persephone slowed down too,
her legs shook with every step and they both breathed loudly in order to keep
their oxygen intake steady.
The dunes were endless. The further they got, the deeper they trekked
into the unforgivable heat.
“We need to stop for an hour or so,” Josephine finally argued, dropping
to her knees. She wanted to sleep. Her heartbeat slowed, along with her vision,
and she fell forward—her face hitting the scorching hot sand.
Darkness.
~
Josephine woke in an infirmary. The lights blinded her as her vision was
restored to normal. She was relieved to find she was no longer in the Valencia
Desert. An IV was connected to her arm, so she yanked it out and tried to sit
up in her cot.
The room was bare, a few medical tools sat on the revolving desk in the
middle of the room. She glanced down at her body to find she was only wearing a
hospital gown. Her thin legs had goosebumps by the time she brought herself to
her feet.
There was no sign of Persephone, nor anybody else for that matter. She pinched
herself to make sure she wasn’t dreaming.
“Hello?” She said. Her voice cracked, causing her to clear her throat
and search for the sink.
“It’s about time you woke,” A male voice sounded behind her, and she
spun around to find a tall, broad man standing in the doorway. He was wearing a
white doctor’s jacket but was tattooed from his temple to his ankles. Shapes of
all sorts outlined his large frame, and his scruffy brown hair sat perfectly
over his forehead. He looked to be in his mid-thirties.
Josephine stepped back, “Where am I?”
“You are in Troy,” he said, pulling a clipboard from his jacket. He
fixed his glasses before licking his finger and flipping through the numerous
pages of paperwork, “You were found by our merchants. You and your friend were
on the verge of dehydration when they found you. You’re lucky to be alive.”
“Where’s my friend?” She asked. She didn’t trust this man, even if he
claimed to have saved her life.
“She’s fine. Why don’t you lie back down so I can examine your progress?
We were quite worried when we saw you pass through those doors.”
Josephine studied him. Could she trust him? She wasn’t done
healing, that’s for certain. She could still feel the burns on her body—and her
body temperature was still adjusting. She was sure she’d had a fever. She sent
him a murderous glare before she sat back down on the cot.
The man walked to her and pulled out his stethoscope. He pressed the hard,
cold metal to her chest.
“Breathe in three times for me.”
Josephine obeyed, even though this whole thing seemed eerie. She didn’t
hear the rush of doctors outside—no voices echoed through the hallways, and the
more her vision cleared the more the room looked like a bedroom in someone’s
home.
Something isn’t right.
Josephine grabbed the man by his arm and twisted it so that her face was
now facing his shoulder.
“Where is my friend?” She asked with malice, “And who are you?”
He grinned, “Was is the room that gave it away?”
She pulled his arm tighter and gritted her teeth, “I won’t think twice about
breaking your arm if you don’t answer my question.”
The man pursed his lips, “I mean, you can. But it would heal. Gods heal,
after all. If you let go of me, I can explain where your friend is. If you don’t,
well…I’m afraid I’ll have to notify Zeus of your absence from the Grande Hall.”
Josephine completely forgot about the Trials. She was too busy, fighting
for her life in Valencia. She let go of his arm and crossed her forearms across
her body, furrowing her brows.
“Who are you?” she asked once more.
“Asclepius. The God of Healing and Medicine, Master Healer, Encyclopedia
of Cures and Diseases…” Persephone’s voice sounded in the doorway, a smug look
plastered across her face.
Josephine bounced to her feet, “What the hell, Persephone!?”
“Stop being such a baby. If it wasn’t for Asclepius’s merchants, you’d
be dead. Now sit back down and let him finish his assessment.”
“I’m fine. Forgive me, for being defensive,” Josephine snapped sarcastically,
“I woke up in a strange place with no recollection of what happened!”
“Put her out,” Persephone told Asclepius, “Heal her, and then wake her
up, if she won’t cooperate.”
“Wha—” Josephine’s voice was cut off by the sting of a needle in her
arm. Her eyes widened before she slumped over, and the world went black.
Again.
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