Authors: Steve McHugh
CHAPTER
8
B
y the time I’d gotten dressed and returned to the hotel, the kids were already being loaded onto the buses. The witches, once again, were being ferried in their own private bus. Mara glanced at me as I got onto one of the buses, a look of anger on her face. She was quickly ignored as the sounds of a hundred school kids took over, and I wished I’d decided to hike up to the compound.
The journey was short, but even ten minutes with forty sugar-hyper kids and someone talking through a megaphone is about five million years in “how-it-feels” time.
We drove away from the hotel and toward the mountains. The road cut through the forest as it snaked away from the lake,
eventually
leaving the mass of greenery behind as we started the climb upward toward Hades’s compound. It took several
minutes
’ drive along steep mountain roads to reach the
compound
itself, and although the roads were well maintained, it was still a slightly bumpy journey as the smaller rocks regularly fell from higher up the mountain.
After a few hundred yards, the rocky exterior that had been on either side of the road began to change to dense woodland. As we climbed higher, those trees became covered in snow. During previous visits, I’d gone running through the woods that stood all around us on the mountain ridges. They contained enough security that anyone uninvited who was trying to get to the compound would never be able to do it stealthily.
The tree cover only lasted a short distance before the mountains took over and the compound came into view. The sides and back of the place were protected by mountain ranges; the only safe entrance or exit that didn’t include helicopters was the main road that we traveled.
The name for the compound was The Wolf’s Head. It was named that because one of the three mountains that jutted out over part of the compound gave the impression of the top of an animal’s head and jaw—but also because when Hades wasn’t around, Cerberus ran it.
“Okay, we’re about to stop for a quick search,” the head teacher said in a deep voice. I decided that she was definitely part troll. “Once we’re given the all clear, we’ll go into the compound. Everyone stay together when we exit the bus;
no one
runs around . . .”
I stopped listening at that point, as the bus came to a standstill. Guards in black body armor, with Hades’s corporate logo adorning their breast—a raven perched atop a shield—used mirrors to search under it. At the same time, werewolves in wolf form walked around, sniffing at the air. When they’d decided that we were safe, one of the guards signaled for us to go through the main gates.
The Wolf’s Head consists of a dozen two- or three-story buildings, dotted around the sizeable compound. The buildings all had different functions: some were barracks or housed administrative staff, but none of them were all that interesting in the long run. On the surface, there was nothing that wasn’t in a hundred military installations the world over.
Various helicopters and trucks sat idle outside of a huge workshop, where dozens of men and women fixed and modified equipment as needed. Most of the permanent staff in the compound would have been well versed in war and fighting. Neither Hades nor Cerberus would ever have had fresh recruits in such a demanding job.
The bus doors opened, and I remained seated while the students filed out, their excitement and expectations about what they were about to see almost a physical entity.
As the last of the bus emptied, I got to my feet and followed them out into the cold but sunny mountain morning. In the corner of the compound, several hundred meters away, sat the garage and helipad. I spotted Hades’s UH-60 Black Hawk being worked on. It was a heavily modified version of the same one used by the president of the United States of America. I’d been in it a few times and found it to be quite a pleasant experience. Until someone opened the side door while we were in midair. Then it wasn’t so fun.
The head teacher continued talking to the now fully assembled group of children, running through the dos and don’ts concerning their time in the compound. I ignored her as a man walked over toward us, a grin on his face, although you’d have been hard-pressed to see it through the massive beard he’d managed to cultivate in the few years since I’d last seen him. He was over six feet tall and looked like he could bench-press a car, which technically he probably could. His muscles bulged under his blue shirt, and unlike the guards at the gate, who were all fully armed with either MP5s or sidearms, he didn’t have anything on him that I could see.
“My name is Cerberus,” he boomed, silencing the chatter that had moved through the group as he’d approached.
I noticed several people exchange glances, something that Cerberus was clearly used to and saw too. “I do not have three heads,” he told everyone. “You can all stop counting now.”
Some of the children laughed.
“I am a werewolf,” Cerberus continued. “The three heads thing is probably because I can be human or my wolf form or my beast form. Three heads for one body. So that hopefully answers the first question everyone has about me when we meet for the first time. For those of you who don’t know, I’m the man in charge of this facility for ninety percent of the year. It’s my job to make sure that everyone behaves and that there aren’t any massive fuck-ups that undermine the whole reason we’re here.”
A lot of the kids laughed at fuck-ups. Even I couldn’t stop
a smile.
“Yes, I swore. I do that a lot, although I’ll try my hardest not to do it in front of you. Even so, I’m not exactly the best person at keeping his language bottled up, so if I offend anyone, I’ll
apologize
now. I don’t give a shit, but I’ll still apologize.” He smiled and a lot of the group laughed, although I noticed Mara and several of her witch friends cross their arms and maintain an
expression o
f stern disapproval.
One of the group raised her hand, and I recognized her as the ginger girl who had told me that Mara wasn’t very nice to her daughter, Chloe. Kasey and her friends seemed to create some kind of protective wall around Chloe, keeping her separate from her mum, and Chloe appeared to be trying very hard not to glance at Mara.
“Yes?” Cerberus asked.
“Are we really going to travel to Tartarus?”
“That’s why you’re here,” Cerberus told her, and she smiled, but there was a little fear there too.
“Cerberus, are you scaring our guests again?” asked a tall, thin man who left a nearby building and walked over toward us.
Cerberus bowed his head slightly as Hades stood before the group. There were gasps and mutterings of “It’s Hades” from several of the teenagers, and even a few remarks like “He doesn’t look so tough” from the more stupid of the boys.
“I was just explaining that we will be taking them through to Tartarus,” Cerberus told him.
“First, a tour of the compound,” Hades told everyone. “The really good stuff is underground, but we couldn’t work down there without everyone up here.”
Cerberus called several men and women over, none of whom were wearing the intimidating armor of the guards from the gate, and he explained that they would split the group up and go exploring the topside of the facility. As the teenagers very quickly huddled together with their friends, I caught Hades’s attention, and we wandered off, away from the group.
“I heard you had some trouble last night?” Hades said.
“Doesn’t take long for news to filter up here.”
“Kurt called; he wanted me to know about the witches. Do you think those who came with you today are going to become a problem?”
I shook my head. “Only if you’re a sorcerer. Apart from being a gigantic pain in everyone’s ass, Mara hasn’t actually done anything wrong. Sarah, the witch who attacked me, admitted to knowing of Mara, but certainly didn’t seem happy about it.”
“The guards are on the lookout for anyone out of the ordinary arriving, just in case someone is stupid enough to take a run at us. It wouldn’t be the first time.”
“Have the Titans been informed that they’re having
visitors today?”
“I take it you don’t mean the kids?”
“Do they know I’m coming?”
“Yes. Most seemed less than interested. Atlas appears to want to tear your head off still. But he agreed to behave, so long as he doesn’t have to talk to you or acknowledge your existence in anyway.”
“Some people hold grudges,” I said.
Hades stared at me for a second. “Yes, Nathan, they do.”
I smiled. “Is that a dig at me about someone?”
“Hyperion.”
I cracked the knuckles on my hands. “He’s also free, so it’s not like I’m concerned about bumping into him.”
Hades stopped walking. “About that: Hyperion is here
today, along with a
small group of Avalon employees, to do their yearly check.”
I pushed down an ever so slight annoyance at the idea of bumping into someone I didn’t like. “Odd day to do both that and the school trip.”
“They arranged it, and sometimes it’s easier to agree and get it done. They’re here at the moment, but in the building next to the hangar. There’s a possibility you could bump into one another.”
Anger bubbled gently inside me; I pushed it down and remained calm. “He’s an asshole—”
“Yes,” Hades interrupted. “But he’s the asshole who helped cost you someone you love. And you haven’t seen him since Selene and you went your separate ways. If you meet him, you wouldn’t do anything silly, would you?”
“I’m not going to attack him, Hades. He’d rip me in two, for a start.”
“That doesn’t mean you wouldn’t try. I know you too w
ell, Nate.”
I placed a hand on my heart. “I promise I won’t attack
Hyperion
.”
“Or piss him off in any way.”
“Yep, that too. I will be the best guest you’ve have ever had. Besides, Hyperion got what he wanted when he married off his daughter. I’m pretty certain he no longer cares what I or anyone else thinks about him.” There had been a concern that Hera’s petition to release Hyperion to her care would pave the way for others in Tartarus to be released. There are many down there that should never leave. But thankfully that never happened, although why Hyperion was so important to Hera, no one really knows.
“I assume Hera uses Hyperion for her checks on this place? I doubt very much that Hera herself would be very welcome in Tartarus.”
“It wouldn’t be a fun visit,” Hades agreed. “Hyperion comes about once a month to talk to them. I get the feeling he misses a lot of them. He might be free, but it’s on Hera’s whim—if she so decided, he could just as easily go back.”
“My heart bleeds. What does Hera actually want?”
“Tartarus,” he said simply. “She wants everything here. Some of the Titans might want Hera dead, but there are plenty more who would gladly pledge their allegiance to her if it meant freedom and power.”
“That would be very . . . bad.”
Hades clasped one of his hands onto my shoulder. “And that, my friend, is the biggest understatement anyone has
ever uttered.”
We caught up with the tour and stayed with the group at the back, which also consisted of Tommy, Kasey, and several of her friends. The whole thing took an hour. I pointed out several nice-looking weapons and showed them the antiaircraft guns that were sitting at either side of the compound, which brought glares from a few of the other parents. Apparently, I shouldn’t have been pointing out items of destruction on the tour. Who knew?
Once the groups had finished, everyone met up once again at the courtyard and followed Hades and Cerberus toward the rear of the compound. There were three lifts built into the mountain itself, and we split back into three groups again, to take them underground.
It was a long way down, and the lifts moved slowly, giving the security teams enough time to scan the occupants.
Hades passed metal wristbands to me and the other adults on the trip. Each was painted a different color; mine was deep blue. As the metal had cooled, runes had been carved into it. The entire compound beneath the surface used an updated form of the security system that, among others, Avalon and Tommy used. Without the wristband, occupants would be unable to access their abilities at all. But with it, Hades’s system allowed people to still remain conscious of their connection to their power, although they were still unable to actually use it, as any ability used was instantly shut down from completion.
I hadn’t been back to the facility since the new system had been put in place, but Hades had been very vocal about how much he loved it, primarily because having your magic—or any ability for that matter—removed from you was like suddenly losing a sense. Having their magic or ability there made people feel comfortable, even if their use was impossible. Even so, I was less than thrilled that for the second time in a day I was being forcibly made unable to use my magic.
When the lift doors opened, we were in a brightly lit hall. Hades’s mark was embroidered on the smooth floor, and security cameras watched not only the lift but also the four corridors that exited from this one room.
Everyone followed Hades down the corridor closest to us, passing several doors with names of places, such as Washington, Athens, and Helsinki. They were used as meeting rooms when school trips or dignitaries visited. I’d been in a few of them over the years as an invited guest from Avalon. We stopped outside a room whose sign said “Edinburgh,” and Hades opened the door, revealing a sizeable auditorium. He invited everyone to take a seat, and Tommy and I followed those ahead of us to the front of the rows of chairs.
Seating the group took far longer than you’d expect. Apparently some people have to sit next to others, and some want to sit at the back and get told off by teachers for being a pain in their ass. Once everyone had taken a seat, Hades switched on a projector, and the screen behind him lit up.
“As some of you may have heard over the years,” Hades started, gaining silence from the auditorium in an instant, “
Tartarus
is a prison for those who have crossed Avalon or her allies and been deemed too dangerous to allow to stay in this realm. This isn’t the whole truth. We used to cultivate the idea that it was the worst place ever created, our very own little hell where we sent only the worst offenders. Telling someone that they were to be sent to Tartarus was enough to gain cooperation through the fear it instilled.