Christopher Golden - Tears of the Furies

Danny could see that Doyle and Ceridwen were helping Eve. He hoped that she was all right. Between the fight with the Hydra and now this, she had been taking quite a beating lately and he wasn’t sure if she was as durable as he was. Ceridwen, at least, seemed a little better. She’d been drag-assing back in the tunnels and he’d thought she was just going to pass out or something.

As the others made their descent, he took the opportunity to look around. It was a cruel place, rocky with strange, skeletal trees rising up out of the gray dirt like the hands of some animated corpse. Even though the air was still, the strangely shaped leaves rustled, producing a strange grating sound.

Weird, he thought. Danny began to look more closely at what he believed to be leaves, but the sudden sound of growling distracted him.

The boy turned, stunned to see the giant dog stalking toward him on wobbly legs. Cerberus hadn’t been killed in the fall after all. Huge chunks of its flesh were missing, and exposed muscle and bone glinted wetly through the various rips and gashes.

"Give it up," he told the dog as it slowly moved closer.

The animal continued to growl, bloody strings of saliva dripping from its two remaining mouths. Danny glanced in the direction of his friends, but they were not close enough to lend him a hand. It looked as though he was going to have to deal with this problem on his own.

"Last chance," he told the animal. "Just get the hell out of here, and we’ll call it even."

Cerberus continued its inexorable advance.

"All right," Danny said, reaching up to break away a limb from one of the skeletal trees. The branch came away with a loud snap, followed by a metallic rustling from the weird leaves.

He turned back to face the dog and saw that the animal had stopped. "Changing your mind?" he asked, a snarling smile on his face.

Cerberus seemed to have forgotten about him, its two remaining heads looking around as the sounds from the trees began to intensify. Its ears had gone flat against its blocky skulls, and Danny thought that he heard at least one of the heads whimpering.

What now?

The dog seemed afraid, and even though he would have liked to think it was because of him, something told him that really wasn’t the case.

Suddenly Danny realized that the leaves weren’t leaves at all. He watched in awe as the shapes dangling from the trees began to drop, unfurling sleek, angular wings just before hitting the ground and gliding back into the air.

"Son of a bitch," he whispered in awe, as the strange birds filled the air, their bodies catching the muted light of the Underworld, their feathers like tarnished metal. As he watched them dip and dart about, he trawled his knowledge of mythology, gained mostly from television, for the identity of these strange, metallic creatures.

One of the birds flew past his face, the side of its wing gently glancing his cheek, and he recoiled from its touch. His hand came away from his face covered in fresh blood. Wait. I remember. Birds, but with metal razors for feathers, some shit like that. Something to do with Hercules.

The swarming birds cried out, their strange song reminding him of the shriek of a rusty screen door, only much louder. They were agitated, maybe picking up on the vibes from him and Cerberus. Most flew in a shrieking cluster above them, but they were starting to dip lower, single members of the flock dropping down from the sky, razor-sharp wings coming dangerously close.

From the corner of his eye he saw Cerberus leaving, its heads and body tucked low to the ground as it began to trot. The flock apparently didn’t care for the dog’s sudden movement. Their grating cries grew louder, and more of them glided down from the sky, the touch of their wings slicing into rotting, broken flesh of the hound. Danny could hear the giant dog yelping in pain as it fled across the barren landscape, shrieking birds in pursuit.

Then Cerberus fell and the birds swarmed him. Even at that distance, Danny could hear the dog whimpering and he almost felt bad.

Almost.

Most of the razor birds had left with Cerberus, and Danny used the opportunity hurry to the cliff to meet his friends. They were almost to the bottom.

"You all right?" Eve asked weakly. "You look like total shit." She smiled at him then, and he knew that she was okay, despite the fact that she was covered in drying blood.

"You guys might want to hurry," he said, looking back over his shoulder. Only one or two of the birds were visible in the dark gloom of the cavernous sky. Most of them were still savaging Cerberus, and perhaps they would roost there for a time.

"What now, Daniel?" Conan Doyle sounded a bit exasperated.

"I think we’re okay." He reached out to help Eve with the final step to the Underworld floor. "But there were these crazy birds made of metal and — "

"Stymphalia," Conan Doyle interrupted.

"Whatever," Danny agreed. "They’re nasty."

Conan Doyle nodded as he removed his handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the sweat from his brow. Both Eve and Ceridwen were sitting on the rocks at the bottom of the cliff path. Eve was already starting to look better, but now that he could see more clearly, Danny wished he could say the same about Ceridwen. The Faerie sorceress sat with her face buried in her hands. She might have gotten her second wind before, but it seemed like she had just about used it up.

Danny caught Conan Doyle’s eye. "Is she okay?"

The mage nodded, going to her side and putting a gentle hand on her arm. "This place seems to be having a debilitating effect." Danny noticed an uncharacteristic touch of concern in the man’s voice.

Ceridwen leaned her head back against his chest and looked up into his eyes. "Don’t be concerned," she told them all while speaking directly to Conan Doyle. "Give me a chance to acclimate myself, and I’m sure I’ll be fine."

Eve was up now, walking around, stretching her legs. But Danny saw her freeze in mid-step, and she turned toward him. "Hey, kid. Your friends are back."

She gestured with her chin to a rocky hill, where at least a dozen Stymphalia perched, watching them silently. More fluttered down from the sky with a metallic clatter.

Conan Doyle frowned as he watched Eve and Danny, in the twisted landscape of this new level of the Underworld. They were gesturing to one another, but for the moment seemed in no danger. He turned his attention once more to Ceridwen with an ache in his heart that only resonated more deeply when he caught her gazing at him. Something was happening here, between them. The caution, the resentment, the echo of the past was being stripped away.

It frightened him. He had caused her so much pain before that he knew he ought to keep her at arm’s length. But Conan Doyle did not know if even he had the strength for that. Particularly not now. Her normally pale skin was starting to turn an unhealthy gray, and it looked as though she were having a difficult time staying awake.

"I’m sorry," he said.

Ceridwen smiled weakly. "For what? This is not your doing, Arthur. You spend far too much time blaming yourself for things not in your control."

"If I had known this damnable place would have such an effect on you, I would have — "

"You would have done exactly as you have done." The sorceress cut him off. "I am not the focus of this mission." She stood and moved to him, reminding him of an old woman who had sat too long in a cold winter chill. "Drive your concerns for me from your mind," she said, placing the palm of her hand against his face, her cool touch providing a moment’s respite from the heat of the Underworld. "Stopping Nigel Gull should be your focus."

He took her into his arms then, and he could not stop himself. In the tongue of the Faerie he whispered to her. "For so long I had lost my heart. So many years that I stopped noticing it was gone. But now I have found it again, and the fear of losing it weighs heavily upon me."