Metanoia: An Ancient Greek-inspired Epic Fantasy (The Ruined Gods Book 2) by Alex Robins

Author:Alex Robins [Robins, Alex]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bradypus Publishing
Published: 2023-09-12T16:00:00+00:00

19

LAPITH

“Persephone bade me

Listen to the cries

From that blood-drenched land;

From those shadowy skies.”

‘The Tragedy of Orpheus’, Act 4

The only way to reach the top of the wall protecting the House of Hades was by a vertiginous set of steps that protruded from the bronze like thorns, zig-zagging back and forth several times before reaching the highest point. Elena stopped counting after a hundred and twenty, focussing instead on breathing … and not looking down.

Her legs ached terribly by the time she hauled herself onto the ramparts, dripping with sweat from the effort. She was still getting her bearings when a kerberos nearly knocked her down the steps again as he scampered past, heading in the direction of a wide flat area above the nearby gatehouse where the rest of his pack were gathering under the watchful eyes of Kyon. He growled an apology but didn’t stop.

A host of colourful swearwords occurred to Elena, although in the end, she decided her time would be better spent taking stock of her surroundings. The ramparts she now found herself on were roughly nine feet wide and made of solid bronze, worn smooth over the years by hundreds of clawed feet. To her right, a waist-high parapet overlooked the blasted wasteland of Erebos and its bubbling pits of magma. Figures were congregating around the lavatic pools, half-hidden by great clouds of superheated steam that poured forth from cracks in the wounded earth.

She moved closer to the edge. The outer wall was bathed in a soft yellow glow that made it shine like a thousand torches. It was the reflection of the River Phlegethon, a blazing current of liquid fire that ran along the entire perimeter, its flames soaring and leaping as if trying to scale the sides. It crashed against the raised drawbridge of the gatehouse, a massive slab of metal held in place by two thick chains. Elena stretched out her hand and could feel the heat warm the tips of her fingers. Any living creature standing on the banks of the river would have the flesh seared from its bones in under a minute.

“Admiring the view?”

Elena snatched her arm away and turned to see a woman glaring at her. She bore an uncanny resemblance to the two female archers who had accompanied Persephone; the same long black braid and carved wooden bow strung across her back. Only her face was different; the entire right side was marked by a series of burn scars that descended as far as her neck, stretching the skin of her cheeks and jaw. The remains of her eyebrow had been fused with the flesh of the lid, leaving the eye below bloodshot and weepy.

“Ask me,” she said flatly, the movement of her lips warping the scars.

“I’m sorry?” Elena asked.

“You’re staring at my face like an idiot, so you must be curious. Ask me.”

Elena jerked her eyes away, her own cheeks flushed red with embarrassment. “No, I mean, I don’t—”

“It was one of the Danaids,” the woman said. “I

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