The Angel of Death

Chapter Thirty-Four

Chapter Thirty-Four

Everything was falling apart. Dick had been treated for his burns, bruises and concussion by Alfred, but he hadn't said a word since we'd brought him back to the manor. Jason hadn't even come back. He'd run off as soon he'd passed Dick's crying form over to Bruce, and none of us had seen him since. Damian had disappeared to Gods-know-where, probably beating up the training dummies in the gym. Bruce was closed in his office. He had to come up with a story about how Tim had died to give to the press.

I was packing my bag again. I had hardly unpacked it from the whole Minos thing, and now I was stocking it with anything I would need for my journey- ambrosia, my remaining nectar, my dagger, some mortal food, water, an extra sweater, and a small flute I had in my shadow pocket, for emergencies like this. It had only been two hours since Tim had died. The quicker I left, the better chance we had.

I was going to bring Tim back.

I had done it before, with Hazel, and I hadn't even really meant to then. I would be more prepared this time. Plus, Hades wasn't around to tell me it was breaking whatever law of the underworld or some other legal jargon. Not that I would listen.

I didn't really trust my powers after receiving the blessing, but I had to shadow-travel to the doors of Orpheus. There was no way anyone in this house was going to let me leave. They had already lost Tim, and I didn't want them to think they were losing me, too. If I locked my door, there was a good chance I would be left alone for long enough to hopefully get to the Underworld, find Tim, and get back out before anyone noticed I was missing. They were all so busy grieving Tim's death that they wouldn't think twice about me locking myself in my room for hours. But still, I left a hastily-written letter on my desk, just in case. It was written in Greek, but I assumed it wouldn't be much of a problem for them to translate it.

I shouldered my bag and sighed, glancing around the room. I really wanted this to work out. Not just for me, for everyone. If things with the prophecy went sideways, at least I could have a real family to fall back on. But I needed them all here, and that meant Tim, too, no matter how much I got the feeling he resented me. And so I slipped into the shadows, and pictured Central Park, aiming for the big collection of rocks that hid the doors.

The journey was quicker than usual, but other than that, nothing felt different. Maybe my father's blessing was more of a latent power?

The doors opened as soon as I had played my little flute melody. I had improved considerably since the last time I'd come here. I had discovered that the small instrument was actually pretty enjoyable to play, and had picked up quite a few different tunes during my time abroad, and some lessons with Will and a few satyrs had helped, too. The stairway down was just as foreboding and dark and I remembered, and the descent was long and tedious.

When I reached the bottom, I took a few moments to calibrate my inner compass before I began walking. Given the amount of time Tim had been dead for, he was probably still in the long line of recently dead, waiting to get into the Underworld, so that's where I headed. If I couldn't find him there, my next stop was Elysium, since I had a feeling all the Waynes would end up there.

When I reached the gates to the Underworld, I was able to slip through as a few souls passed in from the other side. Once outside the gates, I could see the line stretched out in front of me. I tried not to let my gaze linger too long on any of the souls there- some could be quite tragic, like the little blonde girl in a pair of dirt-stained overalls that couldn't be more than seven. Instead, I made my way down the line, scanning the faces for a black-haired teenager.

As I made it further and further down and still hadn't found Tim, I started to worry. So many people were always dying, constantly- there were hundreds joining the line even as I searched. I couldn't be too late. Not like with Bianca. I would find Tim and I would get him home.