Chapter 6

~~Chimera~~

He did not like where this was going.

The ship moved at a slow pace, or at least he thought it was slow. In the middle of the night, the stars and breeze should have been more than enough of a guide, but the fog of the dead blocked his senses. It felt almost as if they were holding still, but the rest of the crew assured him they were moving, slow but steady.

Crew. He sneered, and looked across the deck to the others. The two satyrs were chatting about the tale of Bellerophon, and the female one, Pinna, shared specific details with her husband. She spoke of the battle between Chimera, Bellerophontes, and Medusa. She spoke of the nights the two had enjoyed each other’s bodies. She spoke of Bellerophon’s journey into Tiryns, and his battle with the Amazon inside its walls. She spoke of his escape, and how the giant had saved him in a primal slaughter.

How could she have seen so much? It ate at him, rats in his gut, and he clicked his fangs across his teeth as he glowered at her. Every time she looked his way, he could see she was weighing whether to taunt him or not. She chose wisely.

The other two, the serpent monster and the volatile ‘hero,’ they held each other’s hands, walked the railings of the enormous ship, and spoke of ridiculous futures. What they would do once they were done this journey, with Pegasus free, the Fates no longer at Bellerophon’s back, and perhaps even Medusa’s curse undone. It was a silly fantasy; stories never ended so well, and not only did Chimera know it, he knew his old enemy knew it too. Or at least, so he thought, but the wisp of hope edged into Bellerophon’s voice, and it earned a frown from the giant each time it did.

But none of that was the reason for his current frustration. The fog of the dead may have covered his senses, blocked him from Gaia, but he could still feel the world in his bones. He could feel the water through the unnatural wood, he could feel the faintest breeze sneak through the fog and touch his skin, and he could feel the rising of the sun.

He knew the direction they were heading.

“Chimera,” the male satyr said, “you said you can’t track with this fog?” He hopped up to stand near the giant at the front of the ship, wife at his side.

“Not well. What animal can with a wet cloth over their nose?”

Gallea laughed. Chimera did not see what was funny.

“Are we at least heading in the right direction?”

He nodded. “We are.”

The two satyrs nodded in return, and went back to the deck. They seemed oblivious to his discomfort, but it was likely a farce. Tricky, mischievous creatures, satyrs were, and too smart for their own good.

He turned, and stared out against the wall of fog. Thoughts drifted through his mind, ruining the stillness he sought, waves on what were once calm waters. Would he see them again? Would their old bones recognize him?

“Chimera.”

Bellerophon. Chimera growled and looked over his shoulder to the small man. Dressed in only his tunic, the small warrior looked smaller still, an easy kill if he had the desire.

“Bellerophontes.”

“I really wish everyone would just call me Darian now. Bellerophontes is a dead name of a dead man, okay? Zeus saw to that.” The fox man hopped up onto the railing and sat upon it next to the giant. “No more glory, no more epic battles, no more conquests. Okay? If the situation was repeated, and I was offered a quest to kill you, I’d spit in their face.”

Chimera eyed the little man. “You did not enjoy the battle?”

“I did ... and I still do, but if I had to pick between that and a woman’s arms? I’ll take the arms.” He winked, and motioned with his head to Medusa and the two satyrs she now spoke with. “A year in a quarry lugging around rocks, and then shipped off for slave labor who knows where? Shipwrecked, I end up with the most amazing woman ever. I’m taking my miracle and I’m leaving my old life behind.”

What a fool. The Fates would never leave him alone, they never did, Chimera was sure. They would hunt him for all time, no question. He didn’t need to say it though, Bellerophon knew how childish his wishes were. The way his old enemy glanced down, then back at Medusa, and then back at the floor each time the topic of the future came up, it reeked of uncertainty and worry.

Chimera shrugged. “What do you want?”

“Just wanted to talk.”

“Why?”

“Because we’re going to be fighting side by side. You don’t want to know the person you’ll be fighting next to?”

He knew well enough. “A fox.”

The small warrior smirked, and stood up on the railing. One slip and the warrior would fall from the boat, and yet the agile little man walked down its length a few feet, turned on a heel, and came back again, pacing with hands together in the small of his back.

“I guess that makes you the lion.”

Chimera nodded. “It does.”

“Can I count on the lion to watch my back then? Lots of opportunities to kill me coming your way, I’m sure.”

For a moment, he considered getting angry. He pledged himself, what more was there to discuss? But, humans were humans, sneaky and conniving creatures. Traitors to their own kind without a second thought. He could not blame his old enemy for the concern.

“Our fights are over. It is her I wish to see unleash her anger.” It was his turn to gesture to Medusa.

“ ... you think she will?” The tiny warrior hopped down onto his butt on the railing, and looked at Chimera with heavy eyes.

“I do. She suppresses her anger, and for what was done to her, I do not blame her. But you taught her to hope, little fox, and when she’s forced to fight for that hope...” He tilted his head to the side, and groaned with release when the motion earned a loud crack. “Her name will be remembered for all time, for the death she will cause.”

It would not be him, the predator who hunted the humans and gods for centuries, whose face would be painted onto the vases of the future. It would be hers.

The small warrior did not look happy about it. Bellerophon looked at Medusa, who was circling the two satyrs in a game of predator and prey. The two half-beasts laughed, and jumped over her coils. How quickly the serpent beast regressed to a child, despite a century of solitude and turmoil. How had her innocence withstood the years?

Is that jealousy crawling up your spine, ‘Chimera?’

“I suppose that’s why I like her so damn much,” the small man said. He scratched his short beard, ran his fingers through his hair, and nodded. “And I’m jealous of her.”

Chimera quirked a brow at his old enemy, and rumbled a chuckle. “I saw the Erinyes return your armor. Repaired, I assume?”

“Yeah. They can’t have their precious main character going into battle with compromised armor. It’s back, shiny and whole.” Bellerophontes groaned and cracked his knuckles. A bundle of anger, the little warrior.

“ ... do you still think you are the main character in this story, Bellerophontes?” Chimera said.

“What do you mean?”

“Raped, cursed, and ruined by the gods she served, a monster, the once innocent woman becomes. The ancient serpent who finally finds the courage to leave her cage, and embark on a quest to free herself from her curse, when a human at last shows her compassion.” His voice grew deeper, quieter, and it rumbled deep in his belly as he spoke. “The Fates may have their eye on you, Bellerophontes, but your name will be forgotten as well. It is hers people will remember.”

Bellerophon’s eyes opened all the wider. But, as if awakening, he shook his head before he hopped down from the railing, and smiled.

“If people remember her name, I don’t want it to be for the bloodshed. We can do something better than that.”

“Oh? And what story do you think will strike harder than a story of murder and slaughter, little hero?” Chimera shook his head; no story he knew.

But Bellerophon grinned at him, and winked. “Redemption maybe? Guess we’ll find out.”

And with that, the fox walked off to join the snake.

Alone with his thoughts again, Chimera turned back to face the fog, and frowned. Redemption. For who, for what? He was a relic of a dead age; he had no sins to atone, only the vengeance of a murdered race to dole. Bellerophontes was nothing more than an angry man with the power of the Fates behind him – or perhaps there was more? His old enemy never spoke of his past; what little Chimera learned of him was nothing meaningful.

Medusa though, the only sin the serpent had committed was being beautiful when she was human. Redemption for her was ... what, to be forgiven by the gods? Chimera snorted, gritted his teeth, and stroked the claws of the dead creature’s paws around his neck. What had Bellerophon meant? Sly, the little fox was.

He glanced over his shoulder. The group were chatting, smiling, and nodding at each other. Bellerophon didn’t remain with them though, he moved past them after sharing a quick kiss with the serpent. His old enemy did not like the satyrs, but then, neither did Chimera. Storytellers, poets, musicians, liars. Every word they spoke set him on edge; they were trouble.

A day past. The satyrs, the serpent, and the hero all stirred with anticipation. No patience, but at least Bellerophon did not start any more arguments. Medusa, as Chimera expected, played mediator, and kept the peace. Pinna and Gallea also regaled Medusa with tales of other heroes, of gods and goddesses, and of wars. But they kept to the stories with romance, and spun exaggerated tales of valiant men saving women from monsters and the like. Chimera found it sickening, Bellerophon did not care, but Medusa was enamored.

The serpent sat, coiled, chin in her palms and weight on her elbows, eyes wide as she listened to the tales. Like a young girl. He smirked, memories of his own family coming to his mind, children sitting around the fire, eyes wide. Eyes wide with the power of the Earth of course, with fire and dirt and water and wind, not the lies of storytellers.

A slow ache filled gut. At first, he assumed the memories were stirring the pain, but then the beat of his heart ached as well. A deep, slow ache that made his fingers tighten and his teeth clench. He got up, turned to face the fog in front of the ship again, and rumbled.

“Gallea,” he said, loud enough his voice carried over the empty deck, “we are near. Take down the veil, so I may see.”

Everyone got up. Bellerophon was by his side in a second, dressed in his armor, weapons at the ready. The satyrs joined him next, while Medusa was slow to slither across the deck to join them, eyes down and shoulders heavy.

“Medusa,” Bellerophon said. He must have noticed his lover’s concern. “You can stay here, you know.”

“No! No I ... if there were civilians, I would. But if it is deserted as Chimera says it will be, then I should come.” The serpent forced herself to stand tall, and removed the bow from her shoulder before plucking at the string.

“I suppose you two will be staying out of harm’s way?” the small warrior said to the two satyrs.

Gallea snorted. “We will. Want no part in the violence, just here to tell the tale.”

Chimera rumbled deep in his chest. Would Gallea say the same if Chimera forced him into the fight, he wondered. But it was not worth the trouble. He was there to protect Medusa, not make things more difficult for her.

On the same flute as he used to summon the ship, Gallea played another tune. Another sad, slow piece, with mournful notes that rung across the empty deck; a perfect match for the laborious rowing of the undead beneath them.

The veil came down as would a settling mist. Heavy, but unhurried, the thick wall of fog fell to the deck, and then off of it over the railing and onto the sea. Chimera knew the sun would be setting, but the others had lost track of the time of day, and they each looked to the West in surprise.

But it was the sight before them that made them gasp.

The mountain rose high, black, and quiet. Where once, he would remember the rumbling of the Earth, the whisper of Gaia to her children, and the call of the wind along her fingers, the great mountain had long since gone dark. Now, only the blood of Gaia cracked along its sides, hot and red, dripping down into the sea, and where once earthquakes were like thunder, they were now only quiet murmurs.

Medusa, jaw dropped and eyes wide, slithered up next to him at the front of the ship. “The mountain ... it’s...”

“As I feared,” Chimera said, “the Amazon has gone to Sreria, where death is a part of its land.”

Bellerophontes hopped up onto the railing and peered out toward the black mountain that jutted from the sea like a thorn. “Death?”

“Giants died here,” Pinna said. She winced when she said it, and took a small step back when Chimera looked over his shoulder down at the little thing. Quivering, but she spoke nonetheless. “Most died in Phlegra, where the land looks much the same. Bleeding, and hot. Some giants went to Sreria, a mountain, isolated in the sea. The gods chased them there too, and...” She looked back to Chimera, as if waiting for him to strike, or stop her. But he did nothing, only rumbled, and stared at his old home. “The giants accepted death.”

Accepted was not the word he’d use.

“This is not a coincidence,” he said, “but I do not know what the Amazon, or the mask thief would have of this land of the dead.”

Medusa shivered with his words. Bellerophon had said she’d spent a hundred years surrounded by the dead, statues of people she’d killed. Another island, another mountain, and more bones. He would have to keep an eye on her.

“Alright, plan.” Bellerophon paced back and forth on the railing, shield on his back, sword in its scabbard, spear in hand and helping him balance. “We need a plan. I figured she’d be hiding in another city, somewhere she can use our reputations against us. But there’s nothing here according to you two.” He gestured to the giant and the satyr. “It looks like it’ll be a hot place. You going to be ok Medusa?”

“I’ll be fine.” She nodded, and humphed.

“Chimera, you should lead. You refuse to die – stubborn bastard – so I can count on you to be at the head. And you know the land better than any of us. You alright with that?” As if a general to his captains, Bellerophon pointed his spear at Chimera in wait.

The giant smirked. Guard captain, Bellerophon said he used to be. He could see it now.

“I am.”

“Good. Ready the away vessel. Let’s put the veil back up, hide Charon’s ship in the fog, and see if we can get to the island on the smaller ship without being spotted.”

Chimera groaned, but nodded. It was as good a plan as any, but being trapped on the tiny boat – tiny compared to him – with a giant serpent, two satyrs, a volatile Fate’s Child, and an array of undead rowing, was not an enjoyable experience. No room to stretch his legs.

~~Darian~~

Nervous. Again. He never used to get nervous, just excited. Now, it was definitely nervous.

Andromeda. Whoever she was, this thief had stolen a Moirai mask, and the Fates had said it was her who attacked him when he was a prisoner on a boat. A giant sea creature had attacked the ship, so ... what, the thief could control that? Or had tricked it into doing so somehow? This thief had Pegasus, they had an Amazon queen at their beck and call, said queen was turned into a Fate’s Child by said thief, and who knows what else. It was going to be the hardest quest he’d ever been on. And this time, he had people with him. There were plenty of good things about friends, and plenty of bad. If Medusa died on this journey, he didn’t know if he could take it.

He breathed deep, and stared out at the mountain before them through the eye-slits of his ebony helmet. It wasn’t just Medusa’s life making him nervous, it was Otrera. He remembered sinking that sword through her shoulder, deep and hard enough that the wound would have bled out anyone. He remembered the thrill of the kill as he butchered and slaughtered her entire tribe. Over a hundred women, battle-hardened, sword and shield and bows and spears; he destroyed them all in the shadows of the trees.

And Otrera was a stark reminder of how much he really did enjoy that. He hated it, loved it, and hated that he loved it. Conflicted much, Darian? Bellerophontes? A name change was doing little to protect him from his past. Only Medusa was interested in the ‘new’ him, while everyone else seemed content to judge him purely on his history, Otrera most of all. And she deserved to.

He had to capture her, so she could take them to Andromeda. He had to capture her, so he could prove he was different now? What a joke.

Chimera got out of the boat first. He had no weapons, but Darian doubted the giant would be any better off with a weapon over his hands. He had no armor, but they didn’t have time to hunt down a blacksmith and force him to make armor that could fit someone twice as tall, wide, and thick as a normal man. And yet, the wall of flesh and muscle stepped forward onto the black sand of the island as if he had all those things and more.

Unless someone had a giant axe to cut his head off with, he doubted the beast would ever die.

Medusa and Darian got off after him. The sea water, up to his ankles where the smaller boat stopped, was warm. He frowned down at it, and the black beneath. Were it a normal color, he’d probably have entertained lying down and enjoying the odd warmth, but the whole beach seemed sullied. Land of the dead, as Chimera put it.

“We only have an hour of sunlight left. I’d rather not do this in the dark,” Darian said. No time to wait, he slipped his shield onto his left arm, spear in his right hand, and walked beside Chimera. “So let’s follow your nose, and go on the offensive.”

“You wish to spring their trap?” Chimera said.

“Yeap. We have a secret weapon.”

“ ... which is?”

Darian motioned to Medusa beside him. Both the giant and the serpent raised a brow, and Darian smirked.

“They’ve never seen what Medusa can really do, they’ve only heard the stories. If it comes to it, Medusa can jump in, same as she did with me and you.” As loath he was to admit it, when Medusa transformed, she was a force, and one that not he or Chimera or any Amazon could contend with. He tried to offer her a smile, maybe the best one in the world, but it wasn’t there. He didn’t want this.

Medusa nodded, snake eyes closing, breath slow, snake hair flat to her scalp, before she drew her bow and readied an arrow.

“A hundred years of practice. I’ll be ready.”

He nodded, but his jaw clenched inside his helmet. A hundred years of killing and you’re still soft, Medusa. He loved that, and hated it; how familiar. It was going to get her killed.

And so, the three monsters moved forward. The weird mountain was only tall at its center, otherwise the island was a wide berth of gentle slope, black leading up to cracks along the mountain’s face that bled red. The closer they got, the hotter it got. Medusa would have trouble if it got worse. Sweat was already dotting his forehead.

“I’ve never seen lava,” Darian said, “only heard it described. This is ... this is unreal.” The waves of heat that poured out onto the slopes of the mountain were, unlike the land they trod, anything but dead.

“I hope where we’re going isn’t so hot!” Medusa shook her head and tasted the air with her forked tongue. Her snake hair did the same, though the nest of snakes had flattened to her head even more.

The giant rumbled. “It is cooler inside the mountain.”

“Inside?” Darian shook his head and leaned on his spear. “You think they’re in a cave?” It made sense, he supposed. Chimera slept in a hole; it must have been a giant thing.

Chimera nodded, and marched forward. “Gaia’s blood is deadly, even to a giant.”

Gaia’s blood. More ancient entities who didn’t have the good sense to die. Darian gritted his teeth but didn’t say a word; pissing off Chimera would not be a good idea.

The walk up the mountain side was easy, except for the heat. The ground was smooth, flat, black, and calm. Vibrations filled the ground, rumbling depth that reminded him of Chimera’s voice, deep but gentle. It’d be almost soothing, if it wasn’t for the heat. The blood of Gaia, as the giant said, was so hot he couldn’t even approach it. The bleeding red poured down crevices of black rock in small rivers, slow like mud, but alive. Some of the strands of red were small enough that he could approach, and not find himself buried in a cloud of exhausting heat. Close, he watched the lava flow, watched the lines of black along it glowing reds and oranges, and watched Earth’s blood ease its way down to the sea. He tossed a rock in, and smirked at how it didn’t sink immediately when it landed, but rather coasted along the surface of the lava before eventually succumbing to the crimson.

“Is there anything else here?” Medusa said. “It’s all rock, and heat, and ... more rock.”

“It was not always this way. But nothing remains of then, only the ashes.” The giant shrugged, and motioned for them to continue.

A higher slope greeted them, steep enough it’d be difficult to climb, but the slope also broke way into a flat path that came to a quick stop at an entrance. A grand entrance, tall, obsidian rock not dissimilar to the color Darian’s armor. Squinting, he could make out the faded remains of carvings, indentations, or designs that must have been carved into the rock long ago. A cave big enough for giants.

“Stay behind me,” Chimera said. “This old home, it is one room, a stairway down, and then another room, larger, deep in the mountain.”

Darian nodded. “Probably in the second room then.”

The giant snarled, and gritted his teeth together hard enough Darian could hear it. Darian didn’t care about the dead; what did the dead care if you touched their things? But he knew he was unique in that. Most people cared, and apparently that included the beast in front of him.

The cave was huge, tall, big enough that Chimera did not have to crouch at all. The walls were carved, polished, and shelves were cut into the odd rock. A couple of lit torches had been set on the shelves, out of place among the soot-covered relics. The shelves were decorated with carvings of things he only barely recognized: places, animals. And skeletons as big as Chimera were propped up against the walls. Odd decorations for a home.

Chimera stopped, and he stopped too. Darian blinked at Medusa, and she blinked at him, before the both of them looked to whatever the giant was looking at. He was staring at the skeletons, six of them, bones thick and long, tinted dark gray with age, and yet refusing to crumble with what must have been centuries of standing there. Real bones.

Real giants’ bones.

“Gods,” Medusa said. She came up closer to Chimera, raised her height to his, and put a hand on his shoulder. “They’re ... that’s...”

Chimera sighed, pushed her hand off his shoulder, and turned to keep walking. “Come. I can sense them, just ahead.”

He moved on, leaving Darian and Medusa staring at the skeletons. Who were they? Why were they standing up? Definitely not the time to ask. He tapped Medusa on the hip, and walked after Chimera.

The hallway, down a rough slope almost like a stairway, opened up into another huge room, tall, wide, and more skeletons. A room big enough that giants could have run around to play. In the center of the room, some more torches were laid out to provide light, and two people sat in the center. They were examining a pebble, a glowing white necklace.

Past them, a white horse stood, a gold ring of thorns around his muzzle, and dark eyes looking at Darian. Pegasus, he was still alive! He almost called out his name. The ring on his muzzle looked horrible, painful, thorny and brutal. Cruel. But, Pegasus was a tough old bastard. Darian breathed relief, smile sneaking in, and tried to step around the two in the center of the room.

They both got up, and faced the three.

“Otrera,” Darian said. He’d been hoping they were distracted with whatever they were doing. No such luck.

“Bellerophontes.” The Amazon plucked at the string of her unusual bow, a small grin on her lips.

“What are you doing?”

“Waiting for you.”

“Is that it? Sort of looks like a ritual to me.” He gestured to the center of the room, where the glowing bauble sat. Its white light mixed with the torches, and lit the room well enough for all to see. It made their bodies cast colossal shadows along the cavern walls.

“Forgive me. Perseus thinks himself an actor, and thought we should pretend to be doing a ritual.” Otrera gestured to the man at her side with a nod of her head.

Perseus. A tall man, blonde hair reaching his shoulders from under his helmet, blue eyes, and he was wearing armor not dissimilar to Darian’s, except gold instead of black. A radiant warrior, with an absurdly massive shield on his back.

“Perseus?” Darian said. Chimera stood beside him through all this, arms at his side, fingers flexing into fists. No doubt, the beast was looking to break the people who sullied the home of the giants.

“Bellerophontes. I’ve been looking forward to meeting you.” Perseus drew his sword, a perfect mirror of Darian’s except for the gold grip, and smiled. A great smile.

Darian stabbed the shaft of his spear against the floor, hard enough to bring a loud thud of wood to rock. “I’ve never heard of you.”

“No, I don’t suppose you would have, Fates’ favorite.”

Darian froze. Otrera’s and Perseus’s eyes began to glow.

Oh shit.

But before Darian could react, Chimera took a step forward, and slammed a foot down hard enough to shake the mountain.

“I have no fear of Fates’ children. I’ll devour you all.” He pointed a finger at the Amazon, and rumbled. “I owe you.”

Something wasn’t right. Darian reached out for Chimera’s hand, to try and pull back the giant, but rustling grabbed his attention. He looked back at Medusa; she had a bow in hand, arrow ready, but she was looking around in confusion as well.

There were more skeletons. Four giant monoliths of bone, taller than even Chimera, stood along the walls of the great cavern, and they began to move. They stirred from their sleep with the crack and twitch of snapping rock and grinding of sand in the joints. Bone clicked against bone, and each skeleton took a step forward. Some had lost a finger or two, one their jawbone, but each rose from their slumber all the same. Their steps were harsh, uneven, and they twitched with unnatural cracks of their bone. But as they approached, their movements grew more and more fluid, until each was standing, moving, and prowling the same as Chimera would.

And their empty eye sockets leaked a black, heavy mist down their torsos, rows of ribs, all the way down to their ash-covered talons.

It was Chimera’s turn to be shocked. He stood up straight, and stared at the oncoming dead. His mouth opened, jaw hanging slightly at the sight.

“You dare?” he said.

Perseus chuckled. “Andromeda dares. And before you ask, no she is not here. She works her magics from a distance, because she is no fool.” The gold warrior slipped his enormous shield off his back, and hooked it onto his left arm. The face of the shield held two swirling vortexes that looked more like a pair of eyes than anything. “I don’t suppose you will surrender if I threaten to kill your beloved Pegasus, Bellerophon?”

“Sorry,” he said, and he pointed his spear at his new foe. “Pegasus would never forgive me. You probably treat him like a cart horse, but he’s a war horse.” They’d never understand his old friend.

Pegasus neighed in response, and tapped one of his hooves against the rock. Don’t worry Pegasus, I’m coming for you.

“He’s so ... beautiful,” Medusa said, eyes switching back and forth between Pegasus and their targets. “How could you do that to him?”

Perseus frowned. “You probably think me cruel.”

Darian stepped toward the man, his own frown turning into a grimace and growl. “Then I have you to blame for Pegasus’s capture? I’m going to cut out your innards and–”

“You’ll be killing no one. Murdering bastard.” Otrera raised her bow – great, another magical weapon – lined up one of her massive arrows, and aimed it straight at his head.

“He captured my friend!” Darian pointed the spear at the Amazon. “I’m sure you’ve both been using him to drag you around places! Or is that what your Andromeda wants? An army of slaves?”

Otrera winced.

Darian blinked.

“Enough!” A booming voice erupted from one of the skeletons, and echoed throughout the cavern. The voice of a god? It filled the cave, vibrated the walls, stirred the dust and ash around the skeleton’s feet, and made Pegasus jump away. “Perseus, you know better than to entertain a victim. Stop playing with your kill, and kill him. Hu–”

An arrow lodged its way into the skeleton’s forehead. The mass of bones took a step back, then reached up to pluck the shaft from its skull. A hole remained.

“You’ll be killing no one!” Medusa nocked another arrow, hissed, and slammed her tail against the rock floor.