Hades

28 Misery Loves Company

RETURNING to the constraints of my physical body came as a rude shock to me. Being with my family and feeling like part of their lives again had made me forget my current predicament. Now I was back in my cramped cell in the reeking chambers of Hades, where the space was so tight I couldn’t stand up. As if to add to my woes, the air around me was filled with the acrid stench of sulfur and continuous lamentations for help. I had no idea how long I’d been projecting, but I knew it must have been a while because all my joints were stiff and my muscles ached when I moved.

Someone had thrust some dry crusts and a tin cup of water into my cell. I sat in my nightgown, so besmirched by muck that its original color was almost undetectable. I tried to slow my breathing to fend off the escalating panic in my chest. I huddled in the corner with my head tucked up against my shoulder. Several times a shadowy warden walked past to further torment the captive souls. He was identifiable only by the fiery embers of his eyes and the metal prongs he rattled along the bars. For some reason he didn’t stop at my cell. Once I was sure he’d gone I pushed myself over to the tin cup and took a long gulp of water. It had an unpleasant metallic taste. My whole body was sore, but the sharpest pain was coming from behind my shoulder blades. Now that I couldn’t even stretch anymore, my wings ached worse than ever. I thought if I didn’t release them soon I would go insane.

To distract myself I thought about Molly and Gabriel. My heart went out to them both. Whatever strange connection existed between them had no hope of developing. Molly didn’t fully grasp the concept of divine love. This was love in its purest form, unaltered by human interpretation and encompassing all living creatures. It was a celebration of creation. Although he might be confused by the intensity of Molly’s emotions, I knew Gabriel would be fine. He would not deviate from his purpose. He wouldn’t even need to think about it. Molly on the other hand would suffer badly from the perceived rejection. I hoped Xavier would help her through it. He’d grown up in a household full of sisters — he’d know what to say.

I knew Jake would show up eventually and sure enough, his silhouette appeared a moment later, hovering in the darkness. His face emerged from behind the bars lit by the long torch he carried. I could smell his spicy cologne and I noticed that his presence no longer had the usual alarming effect on me. In fact, it was the first time I was actually relieved to see him.

I inched forward, scraping my skin on the concrete floor of the tiny enclosure. I would have liked to send him away, but I couldn’t. I would have liked to express my anger, but I wasn’t strong enough. We both knew I needed his help if I didn’t want to perish in this hole in the wall, buried alive until my body wasted away and my spirit was crushed.

“This is an outrage,” he hissed under his breath when the torchlight revealed my condition. “I’ll not forgive him for this.”

“Can you get me out of here?” I asked, hating myself for my lack of stoicism. But seeing as I’d survived a burning at the stake, maybe I wasn’t meant to be a martyr.

“Why do you think I came?” he said, looking pleased with himself. He touched the lock on the cell and it turned to ash and crumbled to the ground.

“Won’t Big Daddy find out about this?” I asked, surprised to hear myself casually using his nickname.

“Only a matter of time.” Jake sounded unconcerned. “There are more spies down here than there are souls.”

“And then what?” I needed to know what the future held. Was Jake only offering a temporary reprieve? He seemed to read my thoughts.

“We’ll worry about that later.”

He tugged at the cell door and it shifted a little, enough for me to squeeze through.

“Hurry,” Jake urged, but I didn’t move. Moving in any direction was difficult.

“How long have I been here?”

“Two days, but I hear you slept through most of it. Here, give me your hand. I’m sorry things turned out like this.”

His apology caught me off guard. Jake was not in the habit of accepting responsibility for the damage he’d caused. He looked at me intently and I could see he had something on his mind. His brow was creased and a look of preoccupation had replaced his usual expression of scornful detachment. His hawk-like gaze didn’t leave my face.

“You’re not well,” he observed at last. I wondered what made him think I’d be well given the circumstances. Jake was like a chameleon; he could change his manner to suit his own agenda. Right now his solicitous behavior was unsettling me and I couldn’t resist a sarcastic reply.

“Being kept in a cage doesn’t do much for the complexion,” I muttered.

“I’m trying to help you here — you could at least show some appreciation.”

“Haven’t you helped me enough?” I said, but when he offered me his hand again I took it.

Slowly and by using his arm to support my weight I managed to wriggle out of the compartment. I found that although I could stand I couldn’t take more than a step or two without my legs giving way. Jake took one look at me before handing me the torch and lifting me into his arms. He strode out of the chambers with a regal confidence and although I was sure I saw eyes like burning coals watching us through the gloom, no one made any attempt to stop us.

Outside the chambers Jake’s motorbike was waiting. He deposited me carefully on the back before mounting and switching on the ignition. Seconds later I was pressed against him as the suffocating chambers of Hades disappeared behind me.

“Where are we going?” I whispered, seeing unfamiliar surroundings.

“I have an idea I think might make you feel better.”

Jake drove without stopping until we reached the entrance to a deep gorge with steep cliff walls and black running water that seemed to flow into a channel underground. Jake dismounted lightly, watching me with growing agitation.

“Are you in pain?”

I nodded mutely. There was little point withholding information from him now. There was nothing he could do with it that could possibly worsen my situation. Jake seemed to have anticipated what was happening to me and seemed more informed than I was.

“Tell me,” he continued. “How do your wings feel?”

The directness of the question caught me off guard and I felt myself blush suddenly. There was something about it I found objectionable. My wings were one thing that defined my very existence. I had worked hard to keep them from prying human eyes. They were an intensely personal part of me and I wasn’t sure I wanted to discuss their condition with Jake Thorn, Prince of Hades.

“I haven’t given them much thought,” I said evasively.

“Well, think about them now.”

Once Jake had drawn my attention to them I became aware of how they were throbbing beneath my shoulder blades, burning to be released. Every so often they sent shooting pains down my back. I felt irritated with him for drawing my attention to the problem. I had deliberately chosen to ignore the issue of my wings. What was the point of doing otherwise in Hades?

“We need to do something about them,” Jake said decisively. “If you want to keep them that is.”

I didn’t like his use of the plural we rather than you. It made me feel as if we were working as a team, as if we had shared problems we could tackle together. I gave him a blank stare.

“Perhaps what I’m trying to say might be better demonstrated.” Before I knew it Jake was peeling off his black leather jacket and flinging it to the ground. He turned his back to me and pulled his shirt up over his head. Then he stood with his back straight and his head slightly bowed, a humbling pose that looked distinctly out of place on him.

“What do you see?” he asked in a muted voice. I scanned the contours of his back. Jake’s shoulders were slender but well formed and not unathletic. He didn’t have bulging muscles, but every tendon was taut and lean and rippled when he moved. He looked fast on his feet and dangerous.

“I don’t see anything,” I replied, averting my eyes.

“Look closely,” Jake urged, taking a step backward so he was even closer, his back bent in front of me in a white arc. Something caught my eye then and I looked with open curiosity. The skin on his back was smooth and unblemished except for two rows of tiny pea-size nodules that ran like an extra set of vertebrae under each shoulder blade. The row of little beads under his skin, only a centimeter or two apart, looked like scarring from wounds that hadn’t properly healed. I didn’t need to ask what they were the remnants of.

“What happened to them?” I asked in a hoarse whisper, the true meaning of what he was showing me suddenly jelling in my mind.

“They wasted away over time and eventually fell off,” he said bluntly.

“From lack of use?” I asked in disbelief.

“Yes, but more as a result of retribution,” he said. “The point is that I had them too once and, believe me, they were spectacular.”

Had I caught a note of regret in his voice?

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I want to avoid the same thing happening to you.”

“But how can I stop it?” I asked my eyes filling with tears. “I’m always locked up. Unless … are you saying you’re going to let me fly?”

“Not exactly,” Jake said, before I could start to imagine what seemed like an incomprehensible thought. “It would be more like supervised activity.”

“What does that mean?”

“I am going to let you fly but on two conditions. I have to make sure you’re safe … and that you’re not seen.” Suddenly I knew why we were there. The gorge was concealed yet perfectly designed for flight.

“You don’t trust me?” I asked.

“It isn’t a question of trust. You couldn’t go far even if you did try to escape. It’s more a matter of what you might run into out there on your own.”

“So how are you going to ensure my safety?” I asked. “It’s not like you can fly with me.”

“That’s where my idea comes in,” Jake said. “It might seem odd to you at first but try to be open-minded. It really is the only way for you to survive as an angel.”

“What’s your idea?” I asked curiously. My wings seemed to know we were talking about them and strained to burst open. It took all of my self-control to restrain them. I didn’t know if I could do it for much longer.

“It’s no big deal,” said Jake lightly. “It simply involves you wearing a restraint.”

“You want to put me on a leash!” I was outraged now that his meaning had become clear.

“For your own safety,” he qualified.

“You’ve got to be kidding me! I’m not going to let you fly me like some kind of weird pet! That’s just sick. Thanks but no thanks.”

I sounded so resolute in knocking back his offer, but at the same time, I was all too aware of my wings, which were itching for freedom and pushing up against my back. The dull ache behind my shoulder blades was beginning to intensify.

“So you’d rather let them wither? You know you don’t have much time before they start to crumble and fall away like old plaster. Are you sure that’s what you want?” Jake asked.

“Why are you so keen to help me?”

“Let’s just say I’m protecting my investment. Think about it, Beth. You don’t have to decide now although we are in an ideal position.”

“If I agree I don’t want an audience,” I said suddenly selfconscious.

“There’s only the two of us here. That’s not an audience. I don’t want to see you lose your wings and you don’t want to lose them. It’s a win-win situation, don’t you think?”

“If I do it,” I warned, “it’s only so that I can fulfil my Godgiven purpose.”

“Always the optimist,” he smiled.

“It’s called faith,” I said.

“Whatever it’s called I think we should do everything we can to keep your angelic essence intact, don’t you?”

Jake’s offer was both insulting and tempting. If he was right and I was at risk of losing an essential part of who I was, did I really have a choice? My wings were one of the things that distinguished me from him and his kind. My wings were a precious gift bestowed by my Father. If I made it out of Hades, what would I do without them? And how would Xavier feel if I came back with such a vital part of myself missing?

I brushed away the tears that were already snaking down my cheeks and took a deep breath.

“Okay,” I said. “I accept.”

Jake lifted my chin with his thumb, his strange but beautiful eyes scanning my face. “Good decision,” he said before steering us to a nearby rock ledge. “Put your right foot up here,” he instructed before upending the contents of a small, carved box he withdrew from under the bike. A shimmering chain made of fine silver links, attached to a manacle pooled onto the rock. It looked like a magical object from a mythological world. I wanted to ask about its origins but held back. Jake wrapped one end of the chain around his wrist and fettered the manacle around my ankle. Being made of mesh meant it was remarkably flexible, melding around my flesh as if it were a part of me.

I looked around at the ravine in which I was permitted to take flight. The rock face rose steeply on both sides and ended in a pervasive darkness. The black waterfall flowed silently. It was like a rocky void, a strange, ghostly abyss illuminated only by the headlights of Jake’s motorcycle, which cast a pool of opaque light around us.

“Knock yourself out,” Jake said.

Although I’d been reluctant about revealing my wings to Jake, they now seemed to have a will of their own. They were so desperate for release they didn’t even wait for a trigger or a signal from my brain. I didn’t try to restrain them and a moment later my linen nightgown hung in ragged shreds from my back. The thought of flight had energized me and my wings seemed to creak from lack of use as they rose up behind me. They emitted a pale silver light of their own and I felt them humming with power. My other muscles were also coming back to life now that my circulation had returned.

Jake watched me in silent fascination. I wondered how long it had been since he’d seen an angel’s wings up close. Did he still remember the intoxicating feeling? I didn’t have time to stop and consider it. My wings arched like a feathered canopy over us both. Jake studied them with a wistful longing and I felt suddenly proud of them. My wings were the one physical feature that separated us despite our common origins. They were a tangible reminder of who I was and where I’d come from. I would always be different from Jake. My flight through the darkness would be a reminder of all that he and his kind had relinquished for the sake of pride and power lust.

I rolled my ankle from side to side, testing the strength of the shackle. Then I dropped my head to my chest, sprinted forward a few paces, and let my wings lift me into the air.

The moment my feet were swept off the ground, I felt an instant relief, as if something dry and withered inside of me had sprung to life again. I threw myself against the enveloping darkness without grace or rhythm. I dived through it, fanning it with my beating wings and it seemed to part a little to let me through. When a firm tug at my ankle told me I’d gone too high, I didn’t dwell on my captor below but simply swooped down again, making sure to stay lower. I let my thoughts switch off and my body take over. I didn’t feel the same exhilaration I did when I flew with my family at Venus Cove, but the deep physical release was worth it. Jake stood on the ledge below, face upturned and the chain leash wound around his wrist.

From where I was he looked very small and irrelevant. In that moment I was all that existed — not my worries or fears or even my love for Xavier. I was stripped back to my very core, nothing but energy, darting and looping through the airless ravine.

I flew until my wings were begging for rest and even then I didn’t stop. When I finally descended Jake was looking at me with undisguised awe. Wordlessly he tossed me a helmet and swung himself onto the bike.

“Come on,” he said. “You can spend the night at the Ambrosia — our secret.”

“You can’t keep secrets from Lucifer,” I said. “You must know there’ll be repercussions.”

“True.” Jake shrugged. “But right now, I don’t really care.”