New Olympus Trilogy: Teenage Goddess Teenage Star Hell on Earth (23 page)

This is the most realistic nightmare I’ve ever had. I awake all of a sudden in a dark place, humid and foul-smelling. There is not the slightest patch of light. This is what blindness must feel like. I grope for the bedcovers, but they are gone. I lie on the ground, bare hardened earth from the feel of it. I am still dressed in my silk nightgown.

“Wake up, Melinda!” I tell myself. “It’s not real!” But even pinching
myself hard in my arm does not help. Reluctantly, I face the possibility that I am actually here in this place. Only, where is “here”?

I can tell from my bladder and lack of thirst that only a short time has passed since I went to bed. And I’m certainly still tired, though my pounding heart and fear will not let me go back to sleep any time soon.

Have they managed kidnap me after all? And who is “they”?

I need more information. Cautiously, kneeling, I feel all around me with my hands and move a few inches at a time.

There are no walls in any direction. This place seems to be a kind of huge cavern. If the ground is made of hard earth only, how secure is the ceiling from caving in?

I touch what I guess to be bones of various sizes here and there. Some feel damp and icky, and I cut my hand on a sharp edge.
Animal or human? I shiver. At least I haven’t encountered any skulls yet; that would settle my doubts on the matter.

Will Hell be able to find me here? That my boyfriend is a powerful god gives me hope. Surely the people who brought me here can have no idea of his abilities. I might get out as soon as he learns of my absence. No need to despair just yet.

I stop my exploration, wipe my hands on the hem of my nightgown, and try to imagine who could be behind this crime.

Revenge for Uncle Hector’s actions? Surely anyone with a smidgen of honour would take him rather than a mere great-niece, but these are irrational and
cowardly people, as their murder of poor Rosario has proved. Still they would probably have murdered me also, right away. Abduction does not fit with the motive of revenge.

Somebody who wants a ransom from Grandmother or my parents? That would explain why I’m still alive. But whether the ransom is paid or not – surely Grandmother would make sure it was – abducted victims don’t always survive. Nevertheless I hope this is what happened. Hell can probably rescue me while they negotiate the details of the ransom.

My brothers – I hate to think it – might not be too sorry if I die before Grandmother leaves her billions to me. Wait – wasn’t that what I thought I heard Diego say last night, that I would not live to inherit? I thought at the time that I must have mistaken his meaning, but now his words take on a sudden significance.

Still,
an abduction makes no sense if that is the motive. The most logical solution would have been to inject me with some drug overdose and let them find me dead in bed, another tragedy among the decadent rich. The papers would pontificate and shed their sanctimonious comments on the matter, and three days after the funeral everyone but Mom and Grandmother would have forgotten all about me.

Well, and Hell. I would have been avenged, I’m sure. Better this place, however dark and foul, where at least I can still hope for survival. And if I get out of here, I will not wait for Hell to avenge me, I’ll do it myself, with a blunt knife.

I surprise myself with the bloodthirstiness of my plans. Focusing on Diego as the most likely culprit I imagine him bound to a stake, with a blindfold over those unusual gleaming eyes and a foul-smelling pad stuffed in his mouth.

Stop, I tell myself. Torture is wrong under any circumstances. I don’t have to sink to their level.

Maybe not. If I get the chance for real, I probably will not follow through. But imagining things I might do to my abductors in vivid detail at least helps to pass the time.

How long will I have to stay in this place? How long can I survive without water? At least it’s not too cold, though the humid air makes the silk cling uncomfortably to my damp skin. It is originally a pale blue, but by now must be stained and filthy.

I wonder why I’m not bound or gagged myself. Is this place so secure that it’s not necessary? Am I the only denizen of this darkness? I cautiously call out, “Hello? Anyone there?”

The echo tells me that the cavern is even bigger than I supposed. I listen hard. There is no answer, but a few seconds later I hear something slither, like a huge snake moving among the bones on the ground. 

I go still, barely breathing, and desist from making any more noise.

Just what
is
this place?

For the rest of the night, Hell and Myra searched the house. Hell focused on the male guests, but found nothing suspicious. The large servant wing did not yield any clues either.

Remembering Melinda’s remarks about her brothers, Hell searched their rooms with special care and went over their papers and laptops.

Pedro, the eldest, had a passionate correspondence with a woman in Tokyo. Their emails were most explicit. Maybe his late arrival had not been merely for business reasons.

Jorge turned and tossed in his sleep. He apparently liked to gamble and lived right up to the limits of his huge income.

Esteban finally stumbled to bed around five in the morning, fully dressed, and immediately began to snore drunkenly. He had brought no less than four rifles along on this family visit. Hunting was clearly his passion in life. There were a couple of reprimands from his father among his emails, because he’d missed important appointments while indulging in this pastime. Rifles and alcohol seemed like a bad combination to Hell, but Esteban did not look guilty as he lay there in bed, breathing heavily.

Hell marvelled how Melinda could have come from the same genes as these three young men, to whom he would not have given the time of day. Could they be complicit in their sister’s abduction? Would they be able to sleep with such a thing on their conscience?”

He heard Pallas’ voice in his ear, from one of her lectures. “Conscience only afflicts some ninety per cent of humanity, and even in them it is wonderfully flexible. A good many have none to begin with.”

Her brothers’ sleep proved nothing, one way or the other.

What most irked Hell was the lack of evidence for any supernatural involvement. None of the men he’d investigated so far used any indigenous sacred objects. They seemed to have no religion at all, apart from socially inspired attendance of major Catholic feasts; all had brought Christmas presents. In their lives dedicated to money and pleasure, worship of ancient deities surely had no place.

I have no idea how much time has passed since I first woke up in this strange cave, but it feels like an eternity. At some point I have emptied my bladder on the bare ground, and afterwards crawled for a good distance, though for all I know I’m crawling in circles. I still dare not walk in case there is some crevice hidden in the floor.

Thirst is starting to plague me, despite the humidity of the air.

I wonder if the snake – if it is a snake – is listening to my movements. Esteban used to keep a viper in a glass terrarium when I was a child, and I uneasily remember how it ignored the scampering mice he fed it until it was good and hungry; no mouse escaped in the end. I believe snakes have excellent hearing. I pitied the mice, but not enough to save any of them from Esteban’s pet snake. I wish now that I had, but of course I was only about five or six at the time.

I strain my own ears, but all is silent – as a grave? No, I determine, this is
not
going to be my grave. This is going to be just an adventure that Hell and I will laugh about in future years. He will find me, and even if not, I will find an escape myself. I’m not as powerful as he, but I’m not stupid.

My knees and hands are torn and bleeding from several hours’ careful movement, when I hear the slithering of the giant reptile again.

And to my surprise, I can also see it now. There is a dim green glow in the cavern, emanating from the reptile. The snake has small useless wings, and must be a good ten metres long. It moves towards me with sinuous grace and speed. Escape is clearly useless. I stand up and face it.

The creature stops a short distance away and raises its head in a swaying motion, higher up than mine. I stare into its gleaming golden eyes with their vertical slits. There is an inhuman intelligence in them.

Having nothing to lose, I talk to it.

“Please don’t eat me,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady, “as you can see, I am thin and small, hardly a sufficient meal. However, my family and boyfriend will gladly provide a whole herd of pigs, sheep, or cattle in exchange for me.
Or chicken or fish, whatever you prefer.”

A long forked tongue emerges from the snake’s mouth, and probes my skin. I remain motionless, staring into the cold eyes of the snake.

“I don’t know how I got here, but my boyfriend will find me soon. He is a god and if I am dead he will wreak terrible vengeance. If you help me, on the other hand, he’ll reward you. Think about it.” Does the snake understand Spanish? I can only hope.

For a long time – at least three minutes – the snake looks at me, its head still swaying gently. Then, to my amazement, - though as Hell’s girlfriend I really should not be surprised at anything – it morphs before my eyes into a middle-aged, tall indigenous woman. She is naked but totally at ease in that state.

Only her golden eyes remain similar, though the pupils are now round. In fact they remind me of someone. “Are you related to my cousin Jacinta’s boyfriend Diego?” I blurt:

“My son,” the woman says shortly. Her gaze on me is not friendly. Just like her son she scares me to death.

“You are a local Goddess, I believe? I am honoured to meet you.”

“I am
Yila. I was here long before you humans arrived,” she confirms. “Humans used to worship us, but now they have mostly forgotten we exist. You have destroyed my forest and pullulate like ants. You are good for nothing but the occasional snack.”

“I’m sorry you feel like that,” I try to sound sincere, though personally I could never worship this snake woman. “May I know why your son Diego – if that is really his name – brought me to your cave? Do you have another home above ground?”

She hisses. “What a lot of useless questions. He occasionally brings me an offering, as a tribute to his mother. I don’t tell him whom to take. But they usually don’t talk back before I devour them.” She adds, grudgingly, “At least you have some backbone.”

“I was not bluffing about my boyfriend being a god,” I tell her again. “He is the son of the Greek gods Zeus and Hera, and would take it very amiss if you harm me.”

“Somebody in your family gave you to my son,” she slyly observes. “Those are his rules – the victim has to be offered by a near relative.”

My throat closes up for a moment in shock. Can that be the truth? Maybe Jacinta hates me even more than I was aware.

“Oh. Well, how come they get to offer me, and I never got the chance to offer one of them?” The whole thing seems extremely unfair to me.

“It has to be one of our worshippers. You don’t qualify.”

“No, I’m afraid not,” I admit. “May I ask where this huge cave is located?”

“Not anywhere on your earth. Your boyfriend will not find you here. Only my family can enter and leave.”

That does not sound good. “Well, what do you want, that is in the power of a rich human or a god, and will get me out of here?”

She is silent for a while, looking at me with those unnerving golden eyes. It is difficult to remain calm and hide my fear, which she can probably smell on me, anyway.

“Tell me more about that god you claim to know,” she says at last. “What are his powers? Where does he reside?”

I swallow. Am I going to betray Hell and his family to some enemy by telling her all I know? A quick glance around the squalid cave in which she lives tells me that this snake is probably no match for Hell, even on her home ground.

The Greek Gods have survived for millennia, and can no doubt hold their own.

I start to talk, though my throat is getting sore from thirst.

The family was late to rise, only natural after a ball, though the household staff began their usual tasks soon after six in the morning. Hell had briefed Myra on the ball, the inheritance tangle, and the people comprising the household. Seeing his sister wearing Melinda’s face, and dressed in a pair of Melinda’s favourite linen slacks and matching top, made him miss the real Melinda even more keenly.

“I’m not sure I can be as perky and vivacious as Mel,” Myra said, doing up the tiny mother of pearl buttons of her blouse. “Our temperaments are rather different.”

“Apart from her mother, nobody in this place knows her that well. We both saw more of her in our school, than her brothers have over the last few years. Anyway, nobody is always vivacious, especially after a late night. They will see what they expect to see.”

“Except for the person who kidnapped the real Mel, if they are even here.
I hope they give themselves away quickly, I’m not at all sure how long I can keep this up.”

“All we need is to pinpoint a suspect,” Hell said. “We’ll force them to speak the truth. In fact maybe we should have done that with the brothers already tonight.”

“Yes, why didn’t you?” Myra fixed her dark hair in a pony tail with a coloured rubber band, the way Mel used to do. Hell’s heart lurched at the sight.

“If some local god is involved, using our powers on one of his worshippers would put us immediately at odds,” Hell pointed out. “We are on foreign ground, and father has told us to avoid any incident with foreign deities, remember.”

“Who cares when Mel is in danger? This is not like you, Hell.”

Hell shrugged uncomfortably. “I know, and mainly it’s just a feeling I have, an instinct if you like, that we had best be extremely careful and discreet, or it could harm Melinda. Once we have her back and safe, I’ll fight these local gods myself, to the death if necessary.”

“All right, it’s your show. Down to the left on the first landing, right?”

“Yeah,” Hell sighed, and followed his sister, invisible to everyone else, as she went to confront Melinda’s family.

The yellow Salon, where breakfast was served, was a light, spacious room facing the gardens, decorated with big bunches of fresh flowers. On a pristine white tablecloth, impeccably ironed, a lavish buffet was set out – scrambled and soft-boiled eggs, sausage, ham, baked beans and tomatoes, fried fish, fresh fruit, croissants and baguettes, butter, and urns of tea and coffee as well as jugs of fresh tropical juices. Around another table, Melinda’s grandmother and parents, as well as Pedro, Jorge, Jacinta, and Aunt Teresa, Jacinta’s mother, were already seated.

“Buenos
días, everybody,” Myra said with Mel’s voice.

“Hello, darling!
Up at last?” Mel’s mother replied with a fond smile. Hell carefully scrutinized all the faces, but apart from Jorge’s scowl nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

“How does it feel to be the richest heiress in Colombia?” Pedro asked Myra. “Congratulations, by the way, I didn’t get around to saying so last night.”

Jorge’s scowl deepened at his elder brother’s words, and he viciously speared his mango with a silver fork.

“Thanks. Maybe I can still get Grandmother to change her mind,” Myra replied, as she indicated her choice of food to the maid standing by the buffet and took an empty place at the table. “How did you all sleep?”

“Like the dead,” Melinda’s father said. “The mountain air here always has that effect on me.”

“I had a strange dream of being taken away from my bed,” Myra said casually, pouring cold water into her glass from a covered pitcher.

“We have so many guards around the house, nobody could to that,” her grandmother assured the false Melinda. “No need to worry, sweetheart, you are safe as houses here in my place.” Hell wanted to shake her. 

“I’m not altogether sorry to be cut out of the succession,” Pedro told the family, putting down his coffee cup with a decisive gesture. “I’ve been thinking of relocating to Japan, and founding my own company there. I will be doing that now, as soon as I’ve handed over my responsibilities in an orderly fashion. I’ll also be getting married in Tokyo. You are all invited.”

Hell scrutinized him carefully, but could not find any indication that Pedro was anything but sincere.

“Married!
What excellent news!” Melinda’s mother exclaimed. “Who is she? I am looking forward to having grandchildren soon. You’ve all made me wait long enough!”

“Congratulations,” Myra added in Melinda’s voice. “I hope you’ll be very happy.”

The rest of the family echoed her words, though Jorge was less effusive than the others. Pedro told them about his Japanese girlfriend, not hiding his devotion to the woman; Hell had already gathered as much from Pedro’s emails. It was maddeningly normal and civilised.

Myra turned to Jorge. “What about you, are you also planning to strike out on your own?”

“Not just yet. I have invested too much time and effort in the company to just walk away. And you haven’t inherited
yet.
”

“Jorge,” their grandmother said with a slight frown. “Remember that it is my decision. Your sister had nothing to do with it.”

“Yeah, right.” Melinda’s brother threw the cloth napkin on the table and got up, full of nervous energy. “Please excuse me for now.” Jorge left the breakfast room, while the others looked at each other in dismay.

“He’s not taking this well,” Melinda’s father said drily.

“How do you feel about it?” Myra asked.

Melinda’s father smiled. “It was a surprise, and at first I felt a bit disappointed. But I already own almost twenty per cent of the company’s shares from father, and if the rest passes directly to the next generation, the family saves a lot in inheritance tax.”

“But you expected my brothers to get their share?”

“We all did, but it’s not like they’ll starve. Mother is right that big fortunes should not be broken up. Besides, your brothers will get my shares eventually.”

Hell could tell that the man was speaking the truth as he saw it. One suspect less, then, not that he’d have expected Melinda’s own father to be behind her disappearance.

Jorge was the prime suspect, but his scent was nowhere in Mel’s room. Did he have a confederate?

Hell easily located Jorge in the mansion’s extensive rose garden, and noiselessly shadowed him. The young man went straight to a hidden corner behind the blooming bushes, his heavy tread on the white gravel path eloquent of strong feelings.

Once arrived in this location Jorge cast a careful look around to check that he was by himself. Making a complicated gesture with his right hand, Jorge called out “
Yasmatolotl!” in a low voice.

A minute passed, then there was a sudden flash, and another young man stood in front of Jorge, looking at him with a cold expression. Hell had noticed him in the ballroom for his extraordinary good looks –Jacinta’s fiancé Diego, though apparently that was not his real name.

“You dare to call me!” Diego said. “I hope you have a good explanation.”

Jorge nervously bowed. “Last night you assured me that I’d never see my sister again, that the matter was taken care of. Yet today she waltzes in at breakfast, the picture of health.”

“You lie,” Diego said coldly. “She is in my mother’s realm, probably devoured by now.”

“Devoured?” Jorge swallowed, and paled. “I don’t want to know the details. Anyway, something must have gone wrong, she’s still here. You can see for yourself.”

“Impossible. A god does not make mistakes.”

Oh, yeah?
Hell thought, trying to put away his horror at Melinda’s predicament and gauge the other god’s power. This one had certainly made a terrible mistake in his choice of victim. Could Hell force him to bring Melinda back?

Diego was looking at Jorge with a frown now. “I see you believe you are speaking the truth. You will be served to the Great Snake yourself if you lie.”

“I wouldn’t dare,” Jorge said with an audible gulp. “This is inexplicable. Could she have escaped?”

“Nobody escapes from the Great Snake, and anyway, a human could not find her way back to this realm.”

Hell felt his heart sink as he realised these local gods had created their own inaccessible realm, like New Olympus or the Underworld.

“Maybe the Snake took pity on her and let her go?”

“It would be the first time. No, it cannot be. Does your sister have a twin?”

“Of course not.
I would know.” Under his breath, Jorge muttered, “That would be the last thing I’d need, another brat to get in my way…” 

“I will see this girl. Lead me to her.”

Jorge and Diego turned in the direction of the house. Desperate to waste no more time, now that he knew of Melinda’s peril, Hell cast a golden, sticky net over Diego’s body, remaining invisible as he did so.

The young god stopped for a moment, and tore through the net with an impatient gesture. He did not notice the spider-thin golden thread clinging to his hands as he brushed away the heavier net.

Diego looked around angrily. “Who did this? Show yourself!”

To his dismay, Hell felt himself become visible.

“Who is that?” Jorge said, confused. “He was there all along?” As he realised that his perfidy had been overheard, he began to fidget nervously with his hands.

“I am like you,” Hell told Diego, “though a stranger here. You have abducted my girlfriend. I demand her immediate return.”

“Too late,” Diego smirked. “I’d be very surprised if she’s even still alive.”

“If she has died through your actions, my vengeance will be terrible. Take me to her now.”

Diego shook his head. “This is priceless. I will feed you to the Great Snake later, when I’ve dealt with this second Melinda – or was that you, in disguise?”

Hell realised it was best not to give this punk deity any more information. He shrugged. “You can try.” As Melinda’s brother was looking from one to the other of them in horror, he quickly froze Jorge to immobility with a gesture. The fewer witnesses the better. “How did you hook up with this human scum?”

Diego looked at his immobile follower thoughtfully, but did not immediately unfreeze him, though Hell had no doubt that he could have. “Scum? Aren’t they all? Once power and wealth are dangled before a human, almost all will succumb.”

“Melinda is not like that, and yet you have stolen her away. How do you justify that?”

“I am a god; I don’t need to justify anything. Surely you know how that works, if you claim to be like me? This is merely a game, and my rules are that I take anyone who is gifted to me by a close relative, as Melinda was given away by Jorge. That is the price I demand of my worshippers. A large percentage of this country’s elite have taken the bargain.”

Hell felt outraged. “One human does not have the right to sacrifice another against their will, and without their knowledge. It goes against any principle of justice and fairness.”

“Yeah, so? Those are just words. I make up the rules here. And we’ve talked long enough – now I will destroy you.”

Hell saw and even felt the bolt of lightning coming at him, almost as impressive as his father’s, he dispassionately reflected, as the energy dissipated harmlessly around him.

“This is childish,” he told Diego, “we must look like some comic book hero and villain, though at least we are not dressed in capes or ridiculous outfits.”

Diego, looking truly angry now, tried to engulf him with a cloud of poison gas, but that had no
effect either. “Can’t you do any better than that?” Hell taunted his opponent. “You don’t seem to have a lot of practice at this. Probably because you confine your aggression to puny, helpless humans. Sissy.”

That last word drove Diego to a paroxysm of rage, which unfortunately lent his efforts more power. He manifested a gigantic python, which started to encircle Hell and press on his body with irresistible force. Unlike the previous attacks, this was dangerous. Expending all his power to hold off the snake’s vice-like grip, Hell slightly tugged at the string on his index finger.

Myra appeared at once, still disguised as Melinda, and took in the situation at a glance. She heightened her glamour to such an extent that Diego was momentarily blinded. While he was distracted, rubbing at his eyes, she cut through the snake’s neck with a laser ray that passed uncomfortably close to Hell’s own spine. The two halves of the animal fell to the ground and disappeared as suddenly as the creature had come into being.

As one, Hell and Myra turned on Diego and counterattacked. Hell had not properly appreciated the full strength of his sister – she rarely used her powers, but they must have been steadily growing, and of course she was his elder by two years. Myra must be stronger than this Diego, despite the alien environment.

With united effort they enveloped Diego in a solid glass cube, like a giant paperweight. He was alive and still powerful inside it, but the solid glass would contain him at least for a while.

“He was the one who stole Melinda away?” Myra asked, slightly out of breath, when they were done. “What is Jorge doing here?”

“Jorge betrayed his own sister to this local deity; apparently he promises his followers power and wealth in exchange for sacrificing a family member.”