Page 38 of Where Darkness Bloomed
As the ferry slipped quietly by, figures emerged among the blooms. Men and women, young and old—all shimmering faintly, their faces serene yet distant. A young woman with dark hair raised her hand in a silent greeting, her eyes meeting Kore’s as the ferry passed. Then she faded into mist.
Kore tore her gaze away. “What other places are there in the Underworld?” she asked Charon. “I... I know of Tartarus.”
When Charon’s face tightened, she quickly added, “I have heard stories of Tartarus.”
His brow furrowed, face darkening. “I pray you never see Tartarus, my lady. It holds horrors beyond imagining.”
Fear feathered coldly through her. Despite what she had told the ferryman, she had nearly forgotten. This was the realm of monsters, where the horrors of old resided, chained and damned in eternal darkness.
The Titans.
On the banks, the asphodel faded behind, giving way to bright-green meadows. The scent of thick, sun-warmed grass filled the air, so much like Eleusis, though no sun shone here.
Heartened by the familiarity, a wild hope flared to life.
She turned abruptly to Charon. “I must leave you here.”
The ferryman guided the boat to a stop, the bow bumping softly against the bank. As he helped her disembark, Charon’s iron-colored eyes driftedtoward the horizon. “Take care, my lady,” he cautioned. “I am bound to my task, but you should not walk these lands alone.”
But Kore was already stepping away. “I thank you for your help,” she called to him over her shoulder.
The thick grass underfoot was warm, reassuring. She knelt swiftly, pressing her palm to the soil. Power flickered warmly through her fingertips.
Slowly, an olive sapling sprouted from the earth. Breath escaped her in a relieved gasp, hope mounting as the stem grew taller and the tender leaves unfurled.
Rising, she walked into the sprawling fields.
Chapter 18
Kore’s legs ached. Her feet throbbed with each step.
Hours had passed.
Still, the dark sky of the Underworld remained stubbornly overhead, eternally dark, jeweled with cold, unblinking stars. There was no sun to mark the hours or guide her path. No moon to rise or fall. Only the hush of wind stirring the grasslands, still but strangely alive.
She suspected time moved differently here—if it moved at all.
Apprehension curled in her chest. He would know she was gone by now. Did he search for her? Could she even be found in this endless expanse? She stumbled on, each step growing heavier, until exhaustion blurred the edges of her vision.
Then she heard the screams.
Bloodcurdling. Piercing shrieks that ripped through the air. Not one voice, but many. A chorus of agony rising over the meadows.
Exhaustion vanished in a jolt of cold terror. The screams swelled on the air, growing louder with each passing moment, though there was no one in sight.
She crept forward with careful steps. The crest of a low, grassy knoll rose ahead, and she dropped to her knees, then peered over the edge.
The meadows ahead unfolded like a nightmare come to life.
Across the scorched plain, mortals writhed in torment—limbs twisted, mouths contorted in agony. One man fled desperately, pursued by a hellhound snapping at his heels, its eyes crimson and ravenous. Another lay pinned beneath a boulder, serpents coiled around his shoulders, venom dripping acidly against flesh.
And thousands more... the Underworld’s horrors sprawled before her in a macabre tapestry of suffering.
Too late, she realized the truth of Charon’s warning—she had wandered too far.
A wicked hiss cut across the cries of the damned. “Faster!”
Above the fields, a withered figure hovered, leathery wings stretched wide. The creature’s face was a shriveled mask of malice, yellow eyes gleaming in pitiless delight as the hag-like being surveyed the suffering. A whip of flames unfurled from one gnarled claw.
