Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more.
Oliver and I couldn’t have gone more than a mile when the tunnel came to an abrupt end.
“Holy shit,” I said, awed.
We stood at the bottom of a cavern so towering, so vast that I felt like an ant, peering up at the world through tiny, inconsequential eyes. The walls were gray, uneven stone, with veins of ice running through them as if it were gold. I had no idea where the light was coming from—it seemed to shine from the ice itself—but it lit the colossal space as if we were above ground.
The ice’s glow also shone along the surface of the long, glassy pool stretching through most of the cave.
There was something at the other end of the cavern, I realized as I finished my perusal of this surreal place. A bright, golden glow. We’d need to cross the water to see what was causing it. Conveniently, there was a boat a few yards away. It looked like someone had dragged it up the sand long ago and the vessel was still waiting for its master’s return, lilting onto its side like a mournful frown.
“You know there’s going to be something in the water, right?” Oliver said. He’d probably seen my gaze linger on that distant light, then move to the boat.
The corners of my mouth tightened in resignation. “Are you going to sit this one out?”
Oliver didn’t grace this with a response. He just adjusted the weight of his backpack and started in the direction of the small, sad boat. I hurried after him, touching both of my weapons in reassurance.
Once we’d gotten the vessel upright and in the lake, Oliver pushed the boat a little more, then hauled himself inside the moment we had enough momentum. Touching the water as little as possible, I thought with a twinge of unease. It didn’t help that our newfound boat was incredibly prone to swaying. I held onto the edges and searched the glassy surface around us, praying I wouldn’t spot a single ripple. Oliver found a pair of oars and handed one to me.
“Row fast,” he said. He didn’t need to tell me twice. We dipped our oars into the eerily still lake. I held my breath, waiting for something to leap out at us. When nothing happened, I relaxed a bit and added some strength to the push and pull. I kept my eyes on that unexplained source of light.
We hadn’t gotten far when something struck the wood beneath our feet.
I jumped and nearly dropped the oar. Oliver started to speak, but a moment later, the stillness shattered with noise, a blood-curdling blend of shrieks, yowls, and shouts. The sounds bounced off the walls and made them even sharper, longer. It was the eeriest symphony I’d ever heard, and I knew my eyes were wide as I looked at Oliver. He looked back grimly.
We rowed faster. Waves raced over the water.
“Sirens?” Oliver questioned, his voice overly calm while my skin had gone clammy with fear.
“No. They don’t sound like that.” Rowing even harder, I mentally ran through every water-related creature in Mom’s books and stories. Scylla? Charybdis?
As if the creature were trying to answer me, it hit the bottom again, this time with such force that the entire boat tipped.
My scream became a wet gurgle as we hit the water.
There was no chance to react, though. A second after I found myself in the warm, wet darkness, something grabbed me. I felt a solid weight around my shoulders before my body flew upward.
I was screaming again when I emerged from the lake. The creepy noises still came from every direction. From the dim lighting that still shone on the other end of the cavern, I was able to make out the creature’s wingspan, which was so huge that I could feel every beat flap as we rose higher, higher, higher into the darkness. Whatever held my arms—all I could see when I wrenched my head back was the swell of a round, fur-covered belly—was probably carrying me off to a quiet place where it could feed.
“Ollie!” I yelled, my voice echoing.
“Fortuna!”
Relief filled my chest at his answering shout. I couldn’t see him, but at least I knew he was alive. For how much longer, though? I had to do something. Had to take action. Think, Fortuna. There was no way to reach the weapons in my backpack. Any biting or scratching would be ineffectual against an animal of this size.
I was still trying to come up with a plan when the creature dropped me.
Instinct kicked in, and my body moved without any commands from my fear-frozen brain. Though I had no idea how far we were from the ground, I landed on my feet. I threw my arms out to fight for balance, wobbling at the hard impact. The noise was so loud it was painful now, not just echoes anymore, but cries mere yards away. I looked up automatically, and as my eyes adjusted, I was slow to register what I was seeing. It was too strange, even for me.
There was a city amongst the stalactites. An entire underground collection of oddly-shaped structures made of stone. I could see windows, pathways, steps, stretching across the length of the space, both on the ceiling and along the ground. There were two enormous caves, stacked on top of one another. The one below held the water and the memory, and this one held all the imaginary creatures my mind had created to keep me from it.
The imaginary creatures that, like the minotaurs and the cetus, now surrounded me on every side.
Before I could decide what to do next, the swarm of creatures surged forward, pushing and prodding me with jabs that were none-too-gentle. I discovered that I’d lost my weapons at some point, so I resorted to fighting with my fists and feet, lashing out at the ones that got too close. There were so many of them, their features so strange, and only my strict lessons with Adam kept me alive. But they had me by sheer numbers—while I fought a creature with three heads, two more came up from behind. Tentacles lashed out, wrapping around my wrists, throat, and legs. Before I could react, the slimy appendages yanked with terrifying strength, making me slam down on my knees with a teeth-gritting crack.
At the same moment I fell, I heard a bellow of rage. The sound of it made me jerk around. Ollie.
“Stop,” someone else said, the command ringing out. This voice was feminine, and strong.
And with that single word, the entire cavern went silent.
Shaking, I raised my gaze. A wide set of damp, half-broken stairs rose up before the horde. Oliver stood at the halfway point, his back against the chest of a terrifying bat-like creature. A finger-sized talon was being held against the hollow of my friend’s throat. Surprisingly, Oliver’s gaze wasn’t on me—he was looking at the creatures that had touched me. I’d never seen such ferocity in his eyes before.
But what caught my attention was the female standing above all of us.
At the top of the stairs, there was a flat surface. A platform, of sorts, except it had been made by the elements instead of someone’s hands. That was where this bizarre queen stood, if ‘stood’ was the right word for it. She had thick, black hair that hung to her waist. She wore no clothing, and her bare breasts gleamed in the firelight. Her skin had a subtle green tint to it. Leathery wings rose up behind her, the tips ending in black talons.
Where legs should’ve been was the body of a snake.
Like a snake, I knew this creature devoured her victims alive, and I hid a rush of revulsion and fear. As if she could hear my thoughts, the female smiled, revealing black and pointed teeth.
“Echidna,” I breathed. The Mother of Monsters.
Now I looked at the creatures around me with dawning comprehension. They were her children. Or descendants of her children, because some of the monsters around me bore traits that belonged to Chimaera. The Gorgons. Lernaean Hydra.