Deception

14 ¦ Lessons from Hades

Once again my eyelids fluttered open and I gazed at the bleak stone walls in Lord Darius' study. Squirming in my oak chair, I struggled to get comfortable after four hours of non-stop training.

"Dig deep, child!" he shouted in my face as he gripped the armrests. "You've done it before."

My gods, a drill sergeant would make a better teacher! This man has no patience.

"There aren't any flames," I explained. "In my dream, I go to the hearth, but there's nothing left. Sometimes, there isn't even a fireplace or a house at all."

"What in Hades is your problem today?" he hissed. "I thought you already mastered channeling your magical power."

"I'm trying, but I can't find it!"

"Trying is for the weak-minded," the Shadow Rider scoffed as he backed away and shook his head in frustration. "Either you succeed or you fail. And you're failing."

"I just can't see it," I yelled in frustration. "Can't you help me? We've been at this for hours."

"Again!"

With a groan of frustration, I pictured the same memory I conjured in the stony pit of Castle Halcía. This time, my stomach balled up in knots as soon as I entered my childhood home. Instead of seeing an idyllic family picture, I felt trapped in a gruesome nightmare.

Twin gargoyle pillars stood in the foyer--each tiger with a tethered dragon in one paw and a trapped falcon in the other. A cold draft whistled through the house, followed by an eerie moan. The whole house appeared as though it were covered in a shroud of dark fog.

"This isn't right," I muttered under my breath.

Shivering from the bitter cold, I made my way into the living room. When I turned towards the sofa, where my parents normally enjoyed their books for the afternoon, my hand flew to my mouth to stifle a yelp.

I barely recognized them beneath their favorite fuzzy blanket, which did little to conceal their desiccated skeletons. My parents looked as though they'd made one last desperate attempt to embrace before death. Their skulls rested against the expensive silk pillows with their chins tilted upwards and their mouths twisted in horrific screams. The sound of my mother's death cry echoed in the chamber, numbing my mind.

Stumbling towards the fireplace, I saw only a few dying embers. Almost no heat emanated from the fire, and my teeth began to chatter. A solitary log remained in the wood basket--I couldn't find any kindling, small logs, or even matches to reignite it. Desperate to drive the cold away, I threw the log on top of the embers and used the bellows to help it catch.

No luck.

The large log smothered whatever embers remained until the fire died out. Pitch darkness fell upon the entire room, and I couldn't see a foot in front of me.

A sudden creak echoed in the lounge, and I whipped around towards the source. The door to adjacent hallway had opened, and a raven perched by the open window.

"Time ... to ... die," it croaked as a gale blew through the room.

I jumped away with a gasp, and the hair on the back of my neck stood on end. I felt a cold presence like icy fingers trailing upon my skin.

My chest heaved with panic, and I groped for any potential weapon. When my hand found a fire poker, I snatched the iron rod and stood ready to defend myself.

They wouldn't get me without a fight.

"Who's there?" I shouted as I gritted my teeth.