Page 17 of Touch of Death
Entering through the city gates, Hazel lets out a small sound of awe as she takes everything in. I smile at her wonder, but keep my eyes set on our destination.
Far in the distance, rising above the rest of the city, is a towering palace made of sapphire so dark it is almost black. There, sitting within its glimmering halls, is the one man who holds the keys to this realm and to Hazel’s freedom.
Hades, the God of the Underworld himself ...
And an absolute prick.
8
Hazel
As we move deeper and deeper into the city, I find myself pressing closer to Death.
Strange creatures, unlike anything I’ve ever read or even imagined, pass us as they go about their lives. My eyes widen as I take in the formidable beings with a healthy amount of reverent fear.
Most look almost human at first glance until I notice their horns, tails, or wings as they tower over me. Some are much smaller and more creature-like, while still others don’t look human at all. They come in every shape, size, and color I could ever imagine, and I’m left staring in awe with each step we take.
So far, no one seems to have spotted me, and I don’t know if that should worry me. The last thing I need is to be suddenly discovered and cause an uproar in the midst of all these creatures.
It’s only now that I notice the way the city’s inhabitants seem to give us a wide berth as they scurry past us. Glancing up, I realize that, to them, Death is the most frightening of them all. Even here, he stands out, towering above the rest as his inky shadows waft up around us as we walk.
I smile to myself at this. To think that I alone can walk with Death and not be afraid. Even if our story were to end here, in this city, I will never forget the way he’s made me feel. The way my heart beats for him, and him alone.
Still, with each step forward, wariness begins to weigh on me, as if the city itself can tell that I do not belong here. As if it’s watching, waiting for its chance to tear me apart.
I am still just a mortal among gods, after all.
Death’s grip tightens on me as if sensing this, only intensifying my growing fear.
Swallowing past the lump in my throat, I steal a glance up at him, but his eyes remain trained forward. His silence does little to comfort me and instead bears down on me as I wait for him to say something reassuring.
But he stays quiet.
The ground beneath us begins to slope upward, and I suddenly feel more eyes on us as the gardens grow more expansive and the palaces even grander. I can’t help but wonder if even the gods live among their own tiers.
Looking around, I realize there are far fewer beings roaming this part of the city, but those that I do see are even more breathtakingly intimidating than the ones before. These creatures carry weight to their presence in a way the others did not.
It suddenly dawns on me that, although this is the City of the Gods, maybe not all the creatures that live here areactuallygods.
Have we only just now entered the gods’ quarters? Have we even reached them yet?
Death doesn’t stop, his pace only quickening as more and more attention shifts toward us. The slope beneath our feet gives way to a wide set of stairs as we step through an archway, and then I see it.
A menacing palace that glitters with the sparkle of sapphire looms tall and imposing at the end of the long stairway. As we climb, I crane my neck to look up at the seemingly endless spires that reach far into the chaos of the sky.
Unlike the rest of the city, this palace isn’t surrounded by beautiful gardens. Instead, twisted thorns and wilted flowers fill the grounds and courtyard leading up to the main doors.
As does an uneasy silence.
It isn’t until we approach the wide-open doors of the main entrance that the silence is broken as a breeze carries strange whispers to my ears. Words that I can barely make out over the pounding of my heart. There’s something off about this place, and I shudder to think what awaits us within.
Death guides me forward, but before we can step through the doors, two giant guards made entirely of stone suddenly step into our path. They tower over us both, gleaming obsidian swords strapped to their backs as they cross their arms over their chests.
As foreboding as they are, I almost let out a sigh of relief that we’ve been blocked from entering the palace.
“State your business,” one of the stone guards says, his voice deep and reverberating.
“And name,” the other adds in the same voice.
