Anne Ursu - The Shadow Thieves

Feathers flew everywhere, and screams filled the air, not to mention some insults that Charlotte really could not repeat. Green blood dripped from the sky; a few drops landed on Charlotte's backpack and burned a hole through it. The pair of hideous, bird-like birds tumbled and pecked and screeched in the sky, and Charlotte was relieved that at least there was someone protecting the Dead-until the Griffin spit Harpy feathers at them.

This was awful, Charlotte thought. Was this what Death held? Barren landscapes and mean monsters and eternal quiet and all this boredom? Why didn't Hades do something about it? Mr. Metos had said that Prometheus believed Zeus wasn't worthy of being a god because he didn't help humans. Hades, then, seemed hardly worthy of being Lord of the Dead, but it didn't look like anyone was asking Charlotte. Maybe she could say something to him after he, you know, stopped Philonecron and saved Zee and didn't eat her or turn her into a ferret.

Charlotte walked for an hour, passing such lovely sights as Harpies dining on the carcass of one of their own, a Cyclops picking his substantial nose, and piles of steaming evidence of Hades' legendary herd of night black cattle. She didn't know which smelled worse, the piles or the Harpies. Too close to call.

The City grew closer and closer, and Charlotte was soon able to make out details. It seemed a bizarre place to find in the Underworld-its elegant stone structures and spires looked like something out of a Dickens book. But there were no jet-black palaces in Dickens, at least Charlotte did not think so.

Then, suddenly, there was movement in the silent column of Dead, a rustling, a sense of chaos, where once there had been quiet order. Charlotte turned to look at them.

"What?"

They were all staring at something off in the direction of the City. Charlotte gazed over and she started.

There was someone hurrying toward them. Someone who looked very, very much like a person. Like a boy.

He couldn't really be a boy, of course-and certainly when he got closer, Charlotte would see that he had red eyes or hands made of birds or a snake's head for a tongue. Or he spit fire or had five noses or had a hideously long tail. Or something.

But he came closer, and closer still, and Charlotte saw no deformities whatsoever. In fact… well… in fact, the boy was quite handsome. Really quite handsome. He was wearing jeans and a black T-shirt, and he had dark chocolate brown eyes and wavy black hair; he would have looked like he belonged in the halls of Charlotte's school if he hadn't been far, far more attractive than anyone who had ever graced the hallways of Hartnett Prep.

Charlotte stared. Who was he? What was he doing down here? And, um, however did he get so cute?

Charlotte stood where she was, while around her the Dead backed away slowly. She didn't really notice; her eyes were locked on the boy's chocolaty orbs. Charlotte did so like chocolate.

The boy sauntered up to her.

"Hey," he said.

Charlotte stared. "Um, hey." The boy was acting like he was, in fact, encountering her at the halls of Hartnett instead of the deathly terrain of the Underworld. Which was kind of cute, actually, in its own weird way.

"I'm Joshua."

Charlotte bit her lip. That was her favorite name. "Charlotte."

The boy grinned. "I love that name! It's my favorite."

Charlotte's heart raced. Who knew that she'd come to the Underworld and find love? What a magical, wondrous place the universe was!

"So, where are you going?" he asked, staring at her as if he might have a better idea.

"Um…" Charlotte gulped. She couldn't say she was going to Hades to save the world, how dorky was that? What a grade-A loser she would sound like!

"To the City," she said vaguely.

"Cool," The boy nodded. "Hey, though, I've got a better idea."

"You do?" Charlotte's knees seemed to be melting. She had always thought that was a figure of speech, but no, her knees were actually melting. Well, figuratively.

"Yeah. I've got great tickets to Tartarus. Have you ever been there?"

Charlotte drew back a bit. "Huh?"

"To Tartarus. It's awesome. You really can see some great stuff. We could sit and make fun of everyone. It'll be a blast."

Charlotte blinked. "Well, I have to be somewhere," she said vaguely.

"Aw, hell, it can wait. We'll have fun. I have a private box." He stared at her meaningfully.

"Oh!" Charlotte said. There was something going off in her mind, some kind of high-pitched beeping noise like the one that used to wake her up in the morning back in her old life, where she didn't spend her time talking to really cute boys.

"What's the point of saving the world, anyway? Someone else will do it. It's not really your problem."

Something inside Charlotte snapped. What was she doing?

"Yes!" she said loudly. "Yes, it is my problem!" It was her problem. She wasn't going to sit on the sidelines of Tartarus and make fun of people, no matter how bad they had been in Life. She had to act. She had to save everyone, she was the only one who could. And, hey, how did he know-

"Okay!" He held up his hands. "Don't have a Nemean lion!" He sighed heavily. "If you'd rather 'save the world'… Do you want to make out first?"

"What?"

He stepped closer and put his hand on her shoulder. The hand was strangely cold. "I said, do you want to make out? You're really beautiful."

And that's when Charlotte got suspicious. The boy looked soulfully at her, and oh, he had such nice eyes, but those same nice eyes seemed to be focused on her… neck…

Charlotte wrenched away and then kicked the boy as hard as she could in a place you are absolutely not supposed to kick boys, unless they are really mind-reading vampiric demons trying to suck your blood. She reached into her backpack, pulled out some of her bottled water, and threw it all over the boy, who was rolling around on the ground wincing, and then she turned and ran.

It wasn't holy water, of course; it was bottled in California. But it seemed to have some effect. Charlotte heard a loud, inhuman squeal, and she turned her head to see the boy transform into a flame-haired demon with the top of a woman, bronze horse-like legs, hooves, and, yes, a hideously long tail. The demon rolled around and howled, revealing two rather sharp-looking fangs, and Charlotte turned her head away and ran as fast as she could toward the City.

Charlotte had never been a particularly fast runner; she always finished in the middle of the pack in school fitness exams. But never during the exams had they used vampires to motivate Charlotte, and if they had, Charlotte would have been tops in the whole nation. It's amazing the things you can do when you're really motivated.

After she'd run for what seemed like hours but was probably minutes, Charlotte allowed herself a glance over her shoulder. There was no sign of the demon. She stopped and looked all around but didn't see the creature anywhere. The Dead, too, had begun to re-form around her, solemnly, silently following in her path.

"Thanks for warning me," she muttered.

The Dead said nothing. Charlotte exhaled. "Yeah, I guess I could have figured that one out on my own."

Charlotte sighed and brushed some sweat off of her forehead. A night black centaur galloped past her, kicking dirt in her face. Her eyes stung and she tried to wipe them out as best she could.

Charlotte was tired. You couldn't blame her; it had been a really, really, really long day. She'd been tired back in the passage to the Underworld, and that was several attempts to murder her ago. She'd been awake… oh, she didn't even know how long. Time didn't seem to have the same meaning in the Underworld. But her whole body felt ready to sink into the ground at any moment; she had to fight the urge just to curl up beside a nice rock and rest.