My latest book, Curse of the Spider Woman is live! Unsure if you want to buy it? Here is the Prologue!
Prologue
“Look
at that! The great god Hades gathering flowers on the riverbank like a lazy
milkmaid.” The lieutenant of the Heirs of Socrates sneered. “Our emasculated
Gods no longer care about the people of Greece.” Despite the touch of silver in
his own hair, the lieutenant knew himself to be virile and manly. Not the sort
who would wander like a barefoot hippie to appease his spoilt wife.
His superior officer spoke. “They will care after
today.” Pale blue eyes gazed over the valley of the River Styx. Nightmares,
horses made of black smoke and red hooves, champed at their bits. “Easy,
girls.” The general’s strong, competent hands gathered the reins for the
chariot. “We charge as soon as he reaches for the narcissus.”
The lieutenant squinted. Distance in the Underworld
was deceptive. What had once been a properly somber gray light was tinted with
the gold of spring; another one of Hades’ ridiculous ideas to honor his wife,
Persephone. No deity should cater to a woman in such indulgent ways. Instead of
the traditional ash and cinders, the underworld now sported daisies, roses, and
aromatic herbs like rosemary and thyme. The lack of tradition hardened the
lieutenant’s resolve.
Capturing Hades was the pivot point for the next
phase of the Heirs’ plan to purify the land.
Hades plucked a daffodil. He caressed the cup-shaped
center. A whiff of flame, and the flower transformed into a spray of yellow
diamonds on an emerald stalk.
The General slapped the reins on the night mares.
“It is time.” The chariot surged forward down the slope, a streamer of red,
black, and bronze as the nightmares unleashed their full speed.
The lieutenant’s gloved hand rose in the air,
signaling the troops behind him to ready their weapons.
“Today we get the Gods out of the way of what must
be done,” he stated. “We charge in, three, two…GO!”
All the troops on horseback charged, their mortal
mounts slower but no less eager for the fight.
They had the element of surprise on their side, but Hades,
King of the Underworld, was not some helpless, minor deity. All the dead, no
matter their afterlife, obeyed his command. The land here itself responded to
his desires. Never had he been defeated. The black-robed, black-haired god, his arms full of
blooms for his beloved, waved a hand.
The ghosts of the fiercest fighters of all time –
Alexander the Great, Quintus Fabius Cuncator, the 104 Timberwolf Infantry –
surrounded Hades. The land itself groaned and birthed skeletons, each armed
with semi-automatic weapons.
Hades saluted the oncoming enemies. “Defend our
land.”
Unexpected bullets ripped through the offense.
“Shit, shit, shit,” the lieutenant muttered. Guns?
Where did an ancient God get guns?
Salt peter and sulfur assaulted his nostrils. In
front of him, scores of his troops fell, the horses screaming and the men
writhing in agony.
The General swung a spiked ball on a chain, crumbling
three skeletons with one blow. “We are not defeated yet,” his leader’s strong
voice shouted. “We are not weak paper to crumple at the first resistance.”
Bolstered, the army rode on.
The shock troops trampled the skeletons, temporarily
breaking them apart. Behind them, the second wave scattered the precious
dragon’s teeth into the blood-soaked dirt. The general had traveled alone into the
land of Colchis to find them. Giant soldiers sprang from the ground, the same
ones that had defended the Golden Fleece from Jason and his Argonauts.
“Attack.”
Hades shouted and gestured with his staff. He placed his helmet of invisibility
on his head and disappeared. The reformed skeletons engaged the dragon’s
troops. Neither yielded, neither gained.
“Hiya!” With the skeletons busy, the general’s
nightmares raced to where Hades had stood. The God was old and smart.
Fortunately, the leader had done the proper research.
Invisible was not intangible.
A gloved hand dug into the pouch on the side of the
chariot and flung what was found there. Fine, glittering dust flew into the air,
coating everything and everyone in an incongruously pretty mist.
Not six feet from where had he had stood, Hades
brushed at himself. The general dared much and grabbed the King of the
Underworld. The Lieutenant removed the helm of darkness and swung his own club.
Hades fell insensate to the floor of the chariot.
“To the Caucasus mountains. I have the chains. They
held the Titan Prometheus. They can tame this uninterested god.”
***
Hades twisted within the ancient manacles chained to
the side of the mountain. The rocks reeked of old blood, viscera, and eagle
droppings from the generations of Prometheus’ captivity. The old iron bit into
his wrists, chewing away at his skin. Even though he healed as fast as he was
damaged, blood dripped from the cuts. He was used to the cool shadows of his
kingdom. The bright sun brought tears to his eyes and heated his black robes
until he baked inside of them.
Zeus!
He
mentally shouted. I’m captured and
trapped. Come rescue me with your lightning bolts.”
No response.
Brother,
he
cried again. Someone wants to destroy
Greece.
Nothing. As God of the Sky, Zeus saw everything.
Hades panted, panic nibbling at his psyche. What could have happened to his
younger brother?
Poseidon.
Where are you? Bring your earthquakes and topple this mountain to the ground.
Together we can stop these horrors.
Again, silence. Something had gone wrong.
And Hercules was long dead, a mighty shade in the
Elysian Fields. There were no heroes left that could break these chains.
Small black dots moved fast against the wind.
“And here come the eagles,” the lieutenant crowed.
“They must be hungry after their long fast.”
The god gritted his teeth. There would be no respite
from this torture.
The birds landed, clawed their way through his
abdomen. These were not the enormous noble beasts of his brother Zeus. They
would not carry a message to the lord of the sky, warning him of the Heirs of
Socrates’ plans.
Their sharp beaks tore his skin open and they
feasted on his liver. He made not a sound. His dark-eyed gaze held the enemy general,
challenging his captor to witness what they had started.
The General broke the staring contest and turned to
the white-faced army. Over the eagles’ triumphant noises, Hades heard the
leader exhale.
“Forgive them, my Lieutenant. They are not yet inured
to the realities of the necessity to overthrow the government and make Greece
great again.”
“I will remind them we needed the Gods crippled to
prevent any interference.”
“We don’t want a literal Deus ex Machina.” The
General wiped at blood streaked forearms. “Phase Two is complete. Now, we start
Phase Three.”
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