6 - Honest Intentions

Shrines to the gods surrounded the Oracle of Delphi - grandiose statues posed like bodybuilders, garlands of ever-replenished flowers cresting like dolphins around their taut pectoral muscles and straining biceps. Apollo's chariot racing for the sun, horses frozen in marble forever with flared nostrils and flashing whites in their eyes; Athena standing tall, gripping her spear, every vein lovingly carved in the backs of her hands. Dionysus, reclining in his throne, accepting the attendance of stone servants - all youthful, supple and sanded smooth.

A dark tree threw a leafless shadow over the final, crumbling shrine to the god of the dead. There was no statue of Hades, only a blunt and empty throne choked in poison ivy, bare of all offerings. The god himself growled as he ripped them off, their roots gripping to the stone for as long as they could. "No respect!"

He eased himself back into the seat, pausing only briefly to yank another tendril of ivy from behind his back. "You'd think a place with so many bad omens would send a little love my way, you know?"

Ganymede snapped a flower from one of the many wreaths laid at a statue of Hera's feet, examining it with dull disinterest as he dragged his shepherd's crook through the forest of statues. He tossed it aside as he stepped up to Hades' shrine, passing into the shadow of the tree, and cast his eyes to a podium positioned beside the empty throne. There had clearly been a statue on there once - a pair of sandaled feet remained, though the rest had been smashed to pieces. Even the feet themselves were barely recognisable, great chunks missing from the heels and ankles like smashed chalk.

"Who's that?" he asked. Hades didn't even look at it.

"Who cares? All I know is they never showed up for work, know what I mean?"

Pain and Panic span into their child-sized human forms and stretched out their limbs as if they were about to go for a run.

"Are you sure you're not going to come along?" Ganymede asked.

"With this ugly mug?" Hades gestured to himself before flourishing a cocktail glass filled to the brim with centipedes into his hand. "I think it'd throw the old gal off her game - what little she has."

"No..." Ganymede wiggled his fingers at him, "Shapeshifting? No dress-up games?"

"Oh please, I'm too old to run around playing pretend."

A smirk twitched across Ganymede's face like a spark of static electricity. Hades caught it, and up creeped an eyebrow. "You think I'm funny?" he asked, so obviously sweet that Pain and Panic let out a pair of concerned bleats.

"Actually," the smirk dropped like a weight he was sick of carrying, "You're the only god who isn't a complete walking joke."

All pressure lifted as Hades' teeth spread into a delighted grin. "Ha! Now that's some grade-A flattery! It's not gonna get you anything, 'cuz I'm not a stooge, but top marks. Really, top marks." Even Ganymede was shocked by how smug that one compliment had made him. "Now go-" he flicked a claw towards the cave of the Oracle, "And make me proud, boys!"

They ducked into the entrance of the cave, ducking through the smoke as if it were a bead curtain. The air stank of incense gulching from the bowels of some deep fissure beneath them, through glowing yellow cracks in the paving stones, in such thick wads that colours started dancing in the corners of their vision. They stepped around scuttling insects and down the long passageway ahead of them, Pain and Panic trotting close behind Ganymede's feet.

The walls, though constructed by human beings, were old enough that time had dislodged them. Each limestone brick sat at odds with those around it, and though the statues in the plaza outside spoke of the majesty of the gods, those that lined these walls seemed to imply something else. In here they crumbled, their strong and noble stances transformed into frantic, deformity by the loss of limbs, heads and faces. The statue of Hephaestus, preserved forever with his hammer held heroically aloft, had no arm. Without it, he seemed to cringe forward in a pocked and broken ball. It was almost certainly unintentional.

"I don't see Hades anywhere," Pain whispered. Panic stuck close to the hem of Ganymede's tunic.

"Shh!"

There was no door to the central chamber, only an open hole. They walked straight into the darkness.

Ganymede knew where his two companions were only by their occasional, nervous shuffling. What little light came from the corridor behind them petered out and faded at their feet, leaving them to face a black expanse whose size could only be predicted by their own echoes.

A spasm of light burst out of the ground. They leapt back, screaming and cursing, as sulphuric goo splattered the broken podiums. In that flash, twisted and half-melted bodies lunged from the walls, and Ganymede swung his crook out in front of him with a terrified yell. A second blast of magma surged into the air. This time the substance clung to the rocks and continued to glow, bathing the chamber in a dim and warping light.

The walls rose high above their heads and joined in a single, domed point. Rather than statues, the walls themselves had the gods carved into them, and it was their stretching, clenching bodies that had first sprang to life in that blast of light. As the three of them turned to gaze at the layers upon layers of figures, their shadows and the parallax of their limbs seemed to move, and as the wind rushed in from behind them they seemed to wail just out of hearing. It was as if they were at the bottom of a pit, and as if all those bodies were climbing over them to get out. Except that the dome closed over their heads, and they were all sealed in.

A shadow bloomed to life across the back wall. Again they jumped, because this one did move - with hunched shoulders, like an ape approaching a projector.

"And who is this?" An elderly voice echoed around them. This shadow, far larger than a human being, showed itself to be emaciated whenever its silhouette sprang a limb. A leonine mane obscured the outline of the face.

Pain and Panic exchanged glances before shoving the backs of Ganymede's knees. He stumbled forward in a spindle of hair and limbs, hissed back at them, then straightened up.

"I am Ganymede," he said, wiping a now-clammy hand down the front of his tunic. "Son of Tros."

The shadow paused, listening. "And your purpose?"

He craned his neck over his shoulder to the mute stares of his companions, who were now doing an excellent impression of real children, before replying, "The god of the dead... seeks a prophecy." The child that was Panic gave him a thumbs-up as Pain examined the cracks in the floor.

"He does, does he?" The shadow paused again. "And he didn't come in person? Is he too good for a soothsayer?"

"... Words to that effect, yes," Ganymede said. "Is that going to be a problem?"

"I can only speak for those who seek me directly," the shadow said. The walls began to glow brighter, the cracks in the floor preparing for another eruption. Ganymede backed up, whipping out the end of his crook and yanking Pain by the neck.

"Oh no!" he cried, "I don't want to know what kind of barrel I'm staring down!"

The cracks erupted, flooding the chamber with smoke, heat and light, obscuring everything but the shadow of the Oracle.

*"Sing, O barren one, sing!
Lengthen your cords and strengthen your stakes,
so your heart can burst at the seams!

*The gatekeeper will open the doors of oblivion,
and all will be well!"

Panic muttered between Ganymede's sandals, "That doesn't sound very 'well'." Ganymede could feel him shivering against his ankle and kicked him away.

"But beware, Ganymede, son of Tros,
because your heart lies dead,
and you will be called to answer for those you leave behind."

The smoke rose until all was white, then sucked suddenly into the ground. All went dark, and the shadow was gone. Ganymede's vision, dazzled by so much change, stumbled forward. "But-!" His voice no longer echoed, but seemed to hit the grotesque statues and fall dead to the ground, "But what about Hades? What about Zeus?!"

Though none of them could tell exactly where it came from, a thin voice echoed in their ears. "Hades," the Oracle said, "Is your problem now."

Hades' fingers trilled against the arm of his throne as he watched the Oracle building belch smoke. "Hm," he muttered to himself, speaking out the very corner of his mouth, "Maybe I shoulda gone in there."

A roll of thunder drew a dark curtain across the sky, turning Hade's eyes from a sickly yellow into glowing headlamps once again. One by one the statues turned black, every poised javelin and every raised sword swallowed by the sudden and unnatural night.

Slinging his cocktail glass to the side with a shatter of glass, he leapt to his feet. "Zeus!" His voice broke against the word, though he would deny it in court. "Heyy! Look, you've caught me all unprepared!" A staircase made of clouds unfurled from the heavens, lightning darting across the surface of the steps, each step expanding down from the next until they came to a stop in front of him with a final, damning thud. "I-I really didn't expect you to follow up so soon! What, you didn't feel like calling ahead? What if I'd been in a meeting?"

Zeus himself, mighty and regal, descended down to the earth. Hades' eyes darted from him, his grand stature, his sweeping robes, to the distinct lack of an entourage following behind him. The god had come alone. He fixed Hades with a glower just like their mother's.

Hades darted behind his throne, but at least respected them both enough to lean out from behind it as he spoke. "Let's not be too hasty! Remember - who'll fill that job opening if you get rid of me? A-and don't forget all the bad publicity you got from that whole Prometheus thing! 'Cruel and unusual punishment', remember?!" Zeus clenched his jaw and lunged for the throne. Hades swung to the opposite side. "So it was a one-time blip! You know, I've been reading a lot about male menopause lately and hoo-boy, it was like looking in a mirror-"

"Hades..." Zeus growled as he circled the throne. Hades kept light on his feet.

"Okay, so we haven't always seen eye-to-eye, we're both managerial types! Both leaders! You have your realm, I have my realm, why muddy that up now, you know what I'm saying?"

"Hades!"

"Yeah babe."

Zeus jabbed a thick finger at Hades' face, and for a moment his nose curled as he remembered, quite against his will, what sort of activities those hands had engaged in. Zeus spoke in a low growl, just barely keeping the quake of anger out of his voice. "You're not off the hook, Hades. Mark my words, your reckoning is coming. But I'm here about something else!"

Big, yellow eyes blinked at him. "What?"

"I'm looking for a human. One who may have wandered into your realm."

And the holy choirs sing. Joy passed over Hades' face like a sunbeam. He dared to step out from behind his makeshift barrier. "Oh, now don't get me wrong, Zeus-y, I'm obviously at your beck and call, but mortals don't usually 'wander' into the Underworld. And there are protocols to this kinda thing - remember Orpheus?" Zeus' upper lip twitched with the distemper of a big cat with gristle caught in its fang.

"Don't you dare play games with me!" His voice rose loud enough to shake the rocks from the mountains. "You're in no position to be making deals right now!"

Hades couldn't help but disagree. Stretching his most disconcerting smile over his teeth, he templed his fingers together. "Well hey, whoever it is you're looking for must have mattered a great deal, right? Maybe I can make a special arrangement - after all, we are family."

Zeus rolled his eyes to the heavens, and while his gaze was elsewhere Hades pumped his fist with delight. Zeus' eyes fell back to him and he was the picture of innocence.

"I'm looking for a young man," Zeus explained. "More of a boy, really. About yay high. Blond, a little coarse in the mannerisms. A high-pitched voice..." Hades kept nodding as his pulse sky-rocketed.

"A twink with a bad attitude?"

"Your words," Zeus coughed awkwardly before continuing, "His name is - or maybe was - Ganymede." Hades bit down on a whimper of glee. "Hermes tells me he was something of a looker, but I'm not one to notice these sorts of things."

"No, of course you're not," Hades sneered, something about that comment putting a temporary douse to the flames of his heel-clicking joy - but it quickly returned. He threw his arms in the air. "Nope! Not seen anyone matching your description, and I know every soul that passes through my doors. But hey, uh..." He made a show of wincing, and wiggled a finger in his ear. "Just to talk real hypothetical for a moment, if I was to come across this unfortunate little pool boy of yours-"

"Hades!"

"- Would I be able to expect any form of compensation?"

"You know I'm not going to wipe the slate clean!" Zeus almost laughed in his appal over the idea. "Not over a single mortal!"

"Right, right, mmhmm. And, still in the realm of hypotheticals here, what would this kid be getting out of his parole? You gonna send him back home or what?"

Zeus placed his hands on his hips, filling the cold shadows of the shrine with a simmering sense of wounded paternity. "I'm going to offer him a place in Olympus," he said.

"Why?" Hades replied, instantly.

"B-because I feel sorry for the lad! Is that such a crime?" Building steam in his chest, he continued, "You're an outcast now, Hades! Do you really think I'm going to share Olympus' internal politics with you?!"

Hades smirked through his disgust. "Fair enough. I guess you probably miss that brat of yours, huh? Empty-nest syndrome?" Zeus rounded on him like a grizzly bear, one huge paw swiping forward to attack, grab or just somehow punish the figure smirking in front of him. His knuckles hit smoke as Hades stepped to the side. "Woo, what was that about?" he asked, his teeth spreading into a needle-filled grin again. "Tell you what, I'll keep my eyes open, 'kay? But no promises."

He cast a glance at the Oracle's cave and noticed that the smoke had ceased. He hurried towards his brother and flapped his hands at him as if shooing off a bird. "You'll be the first big galoot I mention it to! Now get outta here, don't you have a cloud to inspect or something?" It almost worked until Zeus paused to scowl.

"What exactly are you doing here, Hades?"

"Getting my horoscope read. Now get outta here!" He noted that he had overextended his advantage when Zeus snatched his collar and yanked him in so close that their noses touched.

"You are on very thin ice, Hades," he said with a cold fury that burrowed its way from his eyes and deep into those of his brother. "If you try anything, you'll be sorry." Hades drew in a breath, but Zeus replied for him, "It'll make Prometheus look like a walk in the park."

Hades raised his hands in a slow show of surrender, his smile leaching hatred.

"I read you loud and clear, O Mighty One."