“We should...” Kore coughed. “We need to go.” 

Hades nodded, laced his fingers with hers, and they continued forward. 

As they walked, he considered his decision. His siblings wouldn’t approve (Zeus would forbid it). He couldn’t say for sure who, but he knew many would be up in arms. Hades may even lose most of what he considered dear, but he refused to live his life dictated by others’ plans. 

Hadn’t enough of his life already been wasted because of that? 

Hades’ hold tightened on Kore’s hand. She flashed him a smile that twisted his stomach in a pleasant way he hadn’t felt before yet craved more of. He wanted to be closer to her, to touch her hair; feel every inch of her skin. He forgot the discomfort Tartarus thrust onto him. With Kore, he could endure whatever obstacles this realm presented.  

When they neared the edge of the forest, Cerberus woke up but didn’t whimper. He nosed the back of Hades’ neck, though. The god reached back with his free fingers and scratched under the pup’s chins and promised him as many bones as he could stand once they left Tartarus. 

Cerberus settled back into his harness. 

“What do you think our odds are?” Hades asked; his mind fixated on what lied ahead. 

“It’s hard to tell.” Kore shrugged. “I guess it all depends on the Hecatoncheires’ jailer.” 

“Any clue who that could be?” 

Kore shook her head. “Though I grew up here, I don’t know all of Tartarus’ secrets. That’s also assuming the jailer is even native to here. Cronus could have brought anyone down here.” 

But only a few beings would consider spending eternity in this desolate place. 

Hades didn’t have much information on Cronus’ connections before the Titan had taken his throne. Those that could assist Hades were dead or would sooner rip out his throat than offer aid. 

Going in blind set Hades on edge, but he’d been doing that this entire journey. Why should he expect the end to be any different? 

Not far past the field running alongside the forest stretched a desert. Luckily, the mountain wasn’t too far away, but the sight of all that sand made the fierce ache in Hades’ throat intensify. He swore the skin at his elbows stretched and turned leather-like before his eyes. Hades would fight a horde of Aeternae if it meant he’d be spared the harshness of Tartarus. 

Kore tugged on Hades to prompt his reluctant feet to move quicker. “Not much longer now.” 

Hades trailed behind her. “I feel you’ll be telling me this forever while we never reach our destination.” 

“My father’s a cruel bastard, but he’s not that bad.” 

Hades gestured around. “Have you ever thought of utilizing this place?” 

“How so?” 

“What do you do with the spirits that come to you?” 

Hades already had an idea, but he didn’t know how Kore went about separating the spirits and what she did with them once they were sorted. 

With a grin, the Daemon Queen described how the Underworld worked. Her set-up impressed Hades, and he almost couldn’t believe she’d come up with the structure on her own. 

“Won’t the Fields get full?” 

“Not for many thousands of years, if not longer.” 

“What if you put the worst spirits down here?” 

“I can’t. Yovar will—Oh.” 

“Could you do it?” 

“I’d have to acquire Tartarus as part of my domain.” 

“That’s feasible.” 

“... Yes.” 

They didn’t speak as Kore thought over Hades’ proposal. He couldn’t gauge how she viewed the idea. Though her mind had to race like Helios’ chariot across the morning sky, Kore wore her diplomatic mask.

Her composure intrigued Hades. 

How, after all that had occurred once they’d come to Tartarus, could she muster the strength to maintain her regal air? 

Hades had long ago given up presenting the dignified stance expected of his breeding. 

Skeletal, coarse-skinned creatures as large as Hades’ foot but as big around as his thumb scurried across their path. Cerberus’ heads whipped back and forth, and his legs moved like he was running. He released a mournful cry when his attempts got him nowhere. 

The creatures didn’t glance the pup’s way. 

Kore’s concentration broke, but she didn’t reveal whether she’d implement his suggestion, and Hades didn’t press her. Kore rattled off innocent, cordial questions about Hades’ life and interactions with his family. 

Much happiness couldn’t be gleaned from the god’s experiences, yet he tried to keep the conversation light. If today was their last, he didn’t want his life’s sorry beginning to mar it. 

Thanks to Tartarus’ nature, every word he uttered caused him pain, but Hades didn’t avoid any query. He focused on controlling his limp. A while back, he’d gone deaf to his stomach’s demands. 

Hades exhausted his answers, so the attention turned to Kore. She seemed much more willing to expand on her previous experiences, even those that involved Yovar. Many of her stories made Hades chuckle. 

The more he discovered about her, the more solid his conviction became. 

How could he leave Kore? 

He’d never find another being like her, and he couldn’t fathom attempting to.

Their talking made crossing the desert easier, and it seemed to pass in a few heartbeats. Before Hades realized it, Kore ordered him to stop.

She gestured at the mountain that appeared to stretch into the heavens. “This is it.” 

“The entrance is here?” 

“Yes, just beyond that rock formation there.” She pointed to her left. 

“Are you sure?” 

“I sense... something extremely powerful here. It has to be it.” 

The tentative calm Hades had clung to since that morning threatened to snap. None of what had happened, what Kore had sacrificed, and Hades had put at risk, would be worth it if they didn’t overcome what lay ahead of them. He’d never had this pressure bearing down on him. 

What of the jailer? 

It could be a beast long thought dead or too ancient to be remembered. Maybe a monster as powerful as Typhon. 

How could Hades and Kore face this unknown enemy, weakened and practically weaponless? 

Kore turned to Hades and took his head between her palms. She kissed him long and hard until his desire overrode his fear. He went to pull her more firmly against his chest, but Kore ended the kiss and stepped outside his reach. 

“Sword or staff?” she asked. 

The fog hadn’t cleared from Hades’ mind. “What?” 

Kore rolled her eyes but gestured to her sword and staff. “Preference?”

“I, uh...” Hades cleared his throat; willed intelligence into his thoughts. “I’ve never—I’m not too good with a staff.”

“Good.” Kore removed her sword and passed it to him. “There wasn’t an option anyway.” 

Hades chortled as he corrected his grip on the sword’s handle. Its weight wasn’t right for him, but, if it had a sharpened blade, he’d make do. 

What other choice existed? 

He couldn’t go up against Cronus’ jailer with nothing. 

Kore played with her staff; heavily favored her left hand. She winced when she used her right hand. Once, she mumbled a curse under her breath but smiled at Hades when she caught him studying her. 

“Ready?” 

“Are you?” 

As a reply, Kore marched to the rock formation she’d signaled out. A moment later, she tapped the enormous boulders with her staff and muttered a spell in the under-dweller language. 

A bright red light flashed in front of the rocks before disappearing. In its wake was the glowing outline of a massive door. 

Kore touched it and frowned. 

“I can’t open it.” 

“What will we—” 

Kore gestured for him. 

Hades stepped up next to her. 

She took his hand and placed it in the center of the door outline. 

Hades felt strong magic pulse under his touch, but he had no idea how to penetrate it.       

  

Kore watched Hades for a moment. “Oh, it wouldn’t be that easy.” She sighed and gazed into Hades’ eyes. “Do you trust me?”

Without hesitation, Hades answered. “Yes.” 

“Draw your ichor and smear it on the outline.”  

Hades didn’t like the idea of more bodily harm, but he did as Kore instructed. When his ichor coated the rocks, a rumbling sounded around them, as if the rock formation were about to collapse. 

Kore didn’t flinch, and Hades stood his ground; didn’t remove his palm. 

The rumbling stopped, and the outline filled with polished obsidian. Within a few heartbeats, a solid door manifested before the pair. Kore told Hades to push it open. 

The god didn’t believe it’d be that simple, but he complied despite his doubt. As if it was the door to his own chambers, the door in the rocks swung back. 

Kore threw Hades a satisfied grin before she crossed the threshold. 

Hades squared his shoulders and followed her. 

Part of Hades had hoped he’d find relief inside the mountain, at least from the dry air, but Tykhe didn’t bestow her favor on him. The mountain climate oppressed him as much as the outside did, yet differently. 

It seemed all the moisture absent from the rest of Tartarus had been collected inside the mountain. As soon as Hades stepped within the hollow tunnel beyond the obsidian door, large beads of sweat collected on his face and arms and dripped over his cracked skin; lit his agony anew.

A stale, rancid smell wafted from the opposite end of the tunnel and seemed to cling to the slick, mucus-covered walls. Soft, hazy light from a source Hades couldn’t find illuminated his surroundings, but not in the detail he preferred.

Kore led the charge on the path, but her feet whispered across the ground. Hades trailed after her. 

“Will this tunnel take us to our destination?” 

“If it’s here, yes.” 

“If?”

Kore smirked over her shoulder at Hades. “I never made Keuthonymos swear to tell the truth.” 

“An oversight.” 

“No, a show of respect.” 

Hades resisted pointing out the massive fault in her action. Saying something wouldn’t change it now. 

Kore went to resume walking, but Hades stopped her. He gestured to Cerberus. “I need to put him somewhere safe.” 

“Yes...”

Kore glanced around, and her eyes lit up. She took Hades over to a slight crack in the wall just big enough to fit the pup. If Cerberus stayed quiet, he should go unobserved. 

The pup growled when Hades removed the harness from his back. 

“No, you behave,” Hades said as he coaxed the hound into the crack. “We won’t be gone for long.” 

Three tongues licked the god’s cheek and six round eyes pleaded with him.

“I know, but it’s for your own good.” 

Cerberus whined, but lied down; his heads on his paws. A firm order from Hades silenced the pup.

One last glance, then Hades and Kore continued down the tunnel. 

The light got brighter the further they traveled into the mountain, and the smell grew unbearable. Hades was glad he had had nothing to eat. His stomach would have expelled it. 

“What is that?” he asked. 

Kore’s nose wrinkled. “Festering flesh.” 

Like anyone who’d seen a battle, Hades had been around his fair share of decaying bodies. Though the smell no longer upset him, he’d never forget it. The scent that filled the tunnel was more than simple decomposition. Hades shuddered to think what else it consisted of. 

Without warning, the tunnel spilled into a huge cavern a quarter of the size of the Fields. Across from the tunnel’s opening was a wall of tree-thick, metal bars that extended from the ceiling into the floor. 

Behind the bars stood three hulking figures, each with several heads protruding from their necks and dozens of arms extending from their torsos. Their bodies flickered and swirled like they’d been constructed of lightning and sea storms but were solid. 

On the other side of the cell, closer to Hades and Kore, slept a creature as impressive as those she guarded. The jailer wore no clothing, which allowed an unimpeded view of the stunning, cool appearance of her topper half that could rival Aphrodite. 

Her lower half ruined the pleasant illusion, for the lower extremities were that of a drakon. A huge, curling scorpion tail dripping with venom attached to her drakon half.

Strangest of all, multiple types of animal heads (from both the Upperworld and Underworld) formed in the area where her top and bottom halves met. They snarled and cried out, disappeared, only to be replaced by a new creature moments later. 

Two flaming swords rested beside the jailer. They were too close to her to steal without the jailer waking. 

Kore half-turned to Hades. “Plan?” she breathed. 

Hades gestured to the mouth of the tunnel. “Wait here.” 

“But—” 

Hades scurried away, toward the cell.