Descent into Tartarus Read online

  "That yellow stuff is from the claw. Some demons are like lizards, with venom in their claws," Delfina told Brianna as she worked to catch all the fluid and not get sick.

  After a few minutes, satisfied that the wound was as clean as she could get it, Delfina turned to Brianna.

  "Got those forceps? What we will do is numb her up, then stitch the wound. Then we bandage her up and hope for the best," Delfina said as she filled the other syringe from a vial.

  "If I'm not needed for a while, I need to hunt down Hermes or Thanatos," Tisiphone said. "One of them might know what has happened to Megaera." When no one objected, Tisiphone disappeared.

  It took Delfina about an hour to stitch up the wound and deal with Gaia's nose. She stuffed wadding in her nose and gave her a mild sedative to help her sleep. She sat next to the goddess until she was sleeping soundly.

  "She'll be OK for now. Until we can get a healer here, and a good one, she'll not get any better. She won't get worse..." Delphine explained. "I mean a superb healer."

  "Only one I know of is Megaera," Alecto told the shaman. "Who's missing."

  Delfina checked on her patient one more time and hustled everyone out of the room.

  When they all gathered in the living room, Tisiphone arrived, with Thanatos in tow.

  "I found one," Tisiphone said as they entered the room.

  "How is mother?" Thanatos asked.

  "She'll be fine, won't be better until we find Megaera," Alecto said.

  "I sent out couriers, seeing if I can fathom what has taken place in the Underworld. One returned with disastrous news," Thanatos told the group. "Sorath has taken Megaera. Undoubtedly, she is in the prison cells, which is where they have Hades."

  "Someone will have to go get her, just who?" Alecto said.

  "Can't be one of us," Tisiphone said. "We'll be needed here in case he strikes again on the surface."

  "What about my uncle?" Brianna suggested. "He's a cop and if anyone can find a missing person, it's a cop."

  Tisiphone looked at Alecto and smiled. "He'd be perfect. He got her pregnant, he can go to hell and find her."

  "I wouldn't put it that way, but it's an excellent idea," Alecto admitted.

  "I can't go talk to him, he wants to arrest me for taking out that serial killer, but maybe Brianna?" Tisiphone suggested.

  "I would love to, but he can't see me at all," Brianna objected.

  "Allow me to call on him. I believe I can convince him to see things differently," Thanatos said.

  CHAPTER TWO

  A coyote trotted between boulders on its way to the river of fire, the Phlegethon. The animal was a demon that preferred the form of a coyote. There were several in Tartarus and served as "go-fers" for the higher order of demons.

  In the endless gloom of the Underworld, Naalnish relied upon his sense of smell rather than sight. He traveled to the surface and acted as a messenger for the demon, Bune. Now, he had to watch for Sorath, returning at any moment from the surface. All he had to do was figure out where the portal was that would drop his boss. That could be anywhere in Tartarus.

  And it would be his bad luck if Sorath appeared anywhere but where he was expected. Typical of surface engineers, the portal crew had broken through in two places, and both led to the edge of an area known as California. Their excuse this time included twisting time lines and fluctuating energy levels, but in reality, they did not understand why. They were just covering their asses.

  The coyote spotted several flying dragons overhead. The dragons were Sorath's idea of an air force. Four enormous dragons streaked across the dark sky in perfect formation. When their leader banked left, the entire flight banked. It was a beautiful sight to watch as they performed aerial acrobatics in perfect sync.

  The lead dragon is piloted by Minoru Genda, Japan's illustrious air force leader in the surface's World War 2. Rommel had wanted Goering in that position, but the German Luftwaffe commander was too obese to ride a horse, much less be light enough to fly on a dragon, so Genda had that honor. His dragon was an Apalala named Cong.

  Naalnish sat and watched. His tongue lolled out and the corners of his mouth pulled back into a grin. He caught himself in time and shook his head. He was acting like a domesticated dog, not a coyote, and certainly not a demon coyote. He looked around, just in case another demon was nearby and watching. He'd never live it down with his pack if they'd caught him acting like a stupid dog.

  He sniffed around; he was close to where one engineer said to expect Sorath. He rounded a small pile of boulders and stopped. He jumped onto a boulder, climbed another, then climbed higher. He sat and looked out upon the plains of Tartarus. The fire river was to his east, its ruddy red glow lighting up the horizon.

  Now, where is that damned portal? He sniffed the air for the sharp and tangy smell that was the telltale hint of ozone mixed with a metallic tang.

  He caught a slight hint, to his north.

  Quickly, he climbed down the boulders and set off. He slipped between some cragged boulders when a huge clawed foot struck out and roughly knocked Naalnish onto his side.

  Naalnish jumped back up, growling, and ready to attack when he saw it was the boss, Sorath.

  "Where the fuck were you?" Sorath growled. He was leaning up against a boulder, holding his shoulder. A deep gash caused by Gaia's iron-tipped spear. "Don't just stand there like a lobotomized Chihuahua! Go! Get! Help!"

  Naalnish shook himself and set out in a loping run for Sorath's welcome committee, not too far away. The boss had capitalized each word, so this meant he was in serious pain. Naalnish wasted no time in making his way to a group of imps who were awaiting Sorath.

  He skidded to a stop and, in-between breaths, he said: "Boss. Man. Hurt. Come!"

  Naalnish wheeled and ran back to where he'd left the boss. Several imps stood looking at each other, then the leader, a greenish imp, Balaur, shouted. "One of you run back to the Palace and get a healer. The rest of you, follow that dog!"

  Naalnish skidded to a stop and looked back. When he saw the imps running his way, he took off, slowing down so the imps could see where he was going when he entered the boulder field. After a few turns he rounded a boulder where he'd left the boss.

  Sorath wasn't there.

  Naalnish sniffed and looked between several boulders, then sat, looking confused.

  I left him right here, he thought. Not more than a minute ago.

  He sniffed the air again, detecting that faint coppery-ozone smell from earlier.

  As the imps came running, Naalnish took off around another boulder and found Sorath, looking weak as orange blood pooled on the ground between his legs.

  Demon blood comes in multiple colors. There's red and green. A lot of demons have green blood, but there is also orange and white. One breed of mindless demons is black, which is a poison and is present just to inflict further damage on the enemy during fighting. The color red is due to the iron in the blood, green is from the copper and sulfur, and orange is a mix of sulfur and iron. White is a keen mix of borax and gypsum. You are what your environment makes you.

  Sorath's blood was a deep orange and there was a lot on the ground by his legs. He had slid down the face of the boulder and his head had dropped to his chest. His orange hair hung in greasy strands over his face, and his breath was ragged. Sorath was having a hard time getting his breath.

  Balaur slowly approached his leader. He exercised extreme caution because a wounded demon is far more dangerous than an angry and wounded grizzly bear. There was a huge gash along Sorath's shoulder, another along his ribs below his arm, and his leg was torn open along the calf.

  A huge clawed hand reached out swiftly and grabbed Balaur by the throat.

  Sorath pulled the imp closer. "Don't just stand there gawking. Patch me up! I'm not finished with the Furies."

  "It looks terrible, boss," Balaur gasped. "I sent for a healer, but you're not going back up there for a whil--"

  Sorath squeezed the imp's neck until it snapped
, then he tossed him away. Balaur landed in a crumpled heap and didn't move. The other imps stood in a huddle out of reach. Naalnish watched his boss, then he picked up a new smell.

  He looked up to see a bright copper-colored dragon circling overhead. The massive beast was getting lower, and larger, with each turn. He could see the pilot, a man dressed in a leather helmet and goggles, and someone else behind the pilot, holding on for dear life.

  The dragon hovered overhead and gently landed between two huge boulders. The man on the back slid off and took a small satchel from the pilot. The man appeared very grateful to be back on the ground. He looked towards the group standing near Sorath, but not too near.

  As he approached, he glanced at the dead imp, Balaur. He faltered, then slowly walked to where Sorath lay bleeding.

  "Your highness, I'm Doctor Clauberg. I was told you needed aid," the balding man said. Sorath opened one eye and looked the short, round doctor over. Oval face, rimless glasses perched on a stubby nose. He was balding with a comb-over that started just above one ear.

  "Approach," Sorath growled.

  The doctor sat his satchel down and inspected the wounds. Sorath hissed through his teeth as the doctor probed the shoulder injury. Clauberg peered at the ribcage and then down at the gaping leg wound.

  "Herr Sorath," he began, then he paused, readjusted his glasses, and continued. "The shoulder wound is quite deep. The wound on your leg is to the bone. The cut over your ribcage is minor, but quite nasty. We need to get you back for treatment. Can you walk?"

  Sorath grunted, then grinned. "If I could walk, I would have been home by now, having thrown you into the sulfur pits, doctor."

  "Perhaps you shouldn't have gone into battle against an iron weapon without some form of armor," Clauberg snapped. He stood back and picked up his satchel. "I cannot treat you here, we need to be someplace less... dirty."

  He made "dirty" sound the way most people would say "cockroaches."

  Gudmundson, the man piloting the dragon, spoke up. He leaned forward and shouted.

  "Mabel can pick him up, if he doesn't mind," he said, patting the dragon on the neck.

  Mabel carefully wiggled her way into the space between the boulders and looked at Sorath with glittering, golden eyes.

  "She'll also fry you where you stand if you hit her, boss," Gudmundson warned.

  Mabel reached forward with one huge paw and lifted Sorath like a rag doll. She placed him on her back and Gudmundson turned to hold on to Sorath. They lifted into the air and turned towards the western edge of Tartarus; to the Black Palace.

  <<<>>>

  Mabel made great time getting to the Black Palace, the name for the huge monstrosity built by another warrior demon at the dawn of time.

  Even from a great height, Tartarus spread out below and stretched forever. Her target loomed ahead. The Black Palace was not anything like the main palace that Hades had built for himself. This was a squat, stubby structure, uneven sides made of rough blocks of stone, crenelated at each corner, as if ready to repulse an attack. In fact, it had repelled invaders in bygone eons.

  It all started when Hades decided on a complete hands-off approach, allowing Tartarus self-rule. Thus, within a few months of this policy being put into place, Tartarus had broken out into civil war, as one war-lord after another tried to wrest power from the others. It was a bloody period that lasted centuries.

  Which suited Hades, because as long as they fought among themselves, they would not fight the rest of the Underworld.

  Until Sorath appeared in Tartarus. He took a while, perhaps two centuries, but he consolidated power and turned his attention to the rest of the Underworld.

  Shortly before the Furies left to live on the surface, Sorath attacked Hades. The small skirmishes led to a final, huge battle between Hades' forces, led by the Furies, and the demonic army, led by Sorath.

  Tisiphone and her sisters, Megaera, and Alecto, had led Hades' army of Grecian heroes into battle. Sorath's army was defeated, and they banished Sorath into the newly constructed prison blocks, to spend eternity locked up.

  Until he escaped with the help of Hades' youngest daughter, Melinoe. Teenage angst turned up to 11.

  Sorath tricked Hades into one of his own cells, and there he stayed while Sorath plotted to take all the Underworld. Once that was accomplished, his plans included attacking the surface, pitting one super power against the other, hoping for the ultimate nuclear Armageddon. With a capital "A".

  Mabel silently glided through the perpetual gloom of the Tartarus sky and sat down on a parapet. Once there, several servants and slaves, all human, rushed to the dragon and assisted Sorath down to the stones.

  "I'll return with the doctor. Get him into his bedroom," Gudmundson ordered. He tightened the leather harness that held him in place on Mabel's back, then she lifted off and flew off.

  Once Sorath was upright, he limped to the open doorway, through a tunnel of the blackest stone one could image. Take that blackness and deduct three more levels of light, and you will have the interior of the Black Palace.

  To call it a palace was putting a good face on the most malevolent looking structure in seven dimensions.

  He limped into his room and was helped onto a four-poster bed by the slaves. The bed and four posts were black, like the walls, and were decorated with iridescent carvings of the most grotesque scenes the demonic artist could image.

  In reality, the carvings illustrated small kittens playing with yarn balls. During his absence, someone put "googly" eyes on one kitten.

  Sorath laid back and glowered at two of his bureaucratic red-tape imps.

  "I require drink," he demanded. "The stronger, the better."

  "Maybe, perhaps, we should, well," stammered the taller imp, Themis, who was now in charge after Sorath "fired" Balaur. He stood back, well out of reach of Sorath's hands.

  "YOU should fetch me some drink!" Sorath bellowed.

  Themis bolted for the door, leaving Sorath alone.

  Outside, the dragon arrived bearing Doctor Clauberg. He was escorted to Sorath's bedroom by a slave, a youth wearing a red tunic. Entering the bedroom, the doctor pulled the slave to the side. "Fetch me a bowl with the hottest water you can find, some bandages and an imp."

  The slave looked startled. "Why an imp?"

  "To give him something to bite on while I sew up his injuries," Clauberg pointed out and dismissed the slave.

  Clauberg stood back and watched the demon getting himself settled in the bed.

  "Sir, just lay still. Once we're ready, I will suture your wounds," Clauberg said. "I can also administer a light sedative, if you wish."

  "That would be fine," Sorath grumbled.

  Themis returned, carrying a small earthenware jug. Sorath snatched it out of Themis' hands and tilted it back, guzzling the liquid.

  When it was empty, he tossed it back to the imp. "Proceed, doctor."

  Clauberg had readied a large hypodermic needle. Sorath, like a lot of the higher demons, had a hide as thick as a rhinoceros, so it took a larger needle to pierce the skin and deliver the contents.

  "First, something to help you relax," Clauberg said as he took Sorath's left arm. He thumped a vein, then stabbed the needle into the skin.

  Sorath grimaced, then he visibly relaxed as he pushed the drug into his system.

  "Ahh, thank you doctor," the demon sighed. "I may not have to kill you now."

  Clauberg watched Sorath's eyes flutter, then roll back into his head.

  There was a general sigh of relief in the room as everyone had been holding their breath.

  Clauberg looked at the wounds again, and saw that the slave had brought bandages and a bowl of water, still steaming.

  He looked at Themis. "The wounds were caused by iron, and they're quite deep. We must keep him sedated until there's some healing. I must cut away the tissue to repair the cuts."

  Themis looked ill. "May I leave the room before you start?"

  Clauberg sighed and nodded. "Brin
g me Bosel, she used to be a nurse. I'll need her help with this."

  "Right," Themis said, hurrying out of the room.

  During the procedure, Clauberg had to sedate Sorath two more times. If not to dull the pain, at least for the safety of everyone else in the room. When the debridement was done, Clauberg stitched up the wounds and covered them in cloth. Sorath had started to wake up, so everyone took a few steps away from the bed. His eyes blinked, he looked around the room, and tried to move around.

  "Sir, you will have to stay in bed until the wounds begin to heal," Clauberg instructed. "Your left arm will be useless, as well as the leg, until it's completely healed."

  "Useless, huh?" Sorath said. "You, the woman, come closer."

  Bosel, a short, rotund ex-Nazi nurse, approached. She stopped by the bed. Sorath reached out with his left hand and clutched the woman by the neck. He grunted as he tried to lift her. She just grasped his fingers and pried her neck loose.

  He laid back down on the bed and growled. "I must finish off the Furies, we must attack this evening," Sorath sighed.

  "You can't even strangle an old woman, what makes you think you can defeat the Furies?" Clauberg asked. "What you will do is lay still, let the injuries heal, then we'll discuss you going to the surface to fight anyone."

  "Get out of here!" Sorath ordered. "I'll determine when I am able to fight! Not some human doctor who was executed for war crimes. You should have died fighting, like a real warrior!"

  Clauberg took Bosel by the elbow and hurried them both out of the room.

  Sorath locked eyes with Themis, who was trying his best not to be noticed.

  "Bring Bune to me."

  Themis bowed and rushed out of the room.

  Sorath looked around and spotted the slave, hidden in the corner. "Why were you thrown into Tartarus, boy?"

  He stepped forwards and held his head down. "Uh, depraved sex acts with a priest of Apollo," he confessed.

  "Really? Then you shall entertain me while I recover!" Sorath laughed.