Simply the Quest Read online

  Elliot felt his jaw clench at the reminder of Thanatos’s promise. His mum cured in return for the Chaos Stones.

  A mum who remembers your birthday, said his dark voice.

  ‘I don’t believe you,’ said Elliot.

  ‘I presumed so,’ said Thanatos. ‘So I thought you might like to see how I can deliver.’

  ‘Like I’d go anywhere with you.’

  ‘So much distrust. So young. So much potential,’ sighed Thanatos. ‘I swear on the Styx I won’t harm you in any way. You will return to your home alive and well. For what it’s worth, I’d like to help you.’

  ‘Help me to die?’ said Elliot. ‘Thanks.’

  ‘Why would I want you to die?’ asked Thanatos. ‘You’re guarding the Earth Stone. You alone know where the other three are hidden. So if I lose you, I lose my Chaos Stones.’

  ‘You’re never getting them,’ said Elliot.

  ‘Well, that’s entirely up to you,’ shrugged Thanatos. ‘One of these days, you might feel differently. So. How about our little trip?’

  Elliot wavered. When he’d visited Thanatos in the Cave of Sleep and Death, he’d been lucky to escape with his life – and only because Virgo had saved him. Thanatos wanted him dead, and no one would know where he was.

  But then again, the Daemon had sworn the sacred oath on the Styx – if he harmed Elliot, he would lose his kardia and become mortal. Thanatos would never risk that. And Elliot was curious – Zeus had said that the Gods couldn’t heal Mum. So how could Thanatos?

  ‘This isn’t a trick?’ he asked the smiling Daemon.

  ‘Unusually, no,’ said Thanatos. ‘Come along. I’ll summon Charon.’

  Elliot paused for a moment. What harm could it do to see what Thanatos was offering? It wasn’t like Elliot would ever take him up on it.

  But good to keep your options open, said his dark voice.

  With a quick look around him, Elliot followed Thanatos towards the River Avon to take a voyage with the Daemon of Death.

  19. Devil in the Detail

  Charon pulled up outside the imposing bronze wall of Tartarus in the Ship of Death. Elliot hesitated as Thanatos headed for the mighty gates. He knew that Tartarus was where the most evil souls spent eternity. It didn’t look like a fun day out. He’d felt the same creepy sensation when Mum took him to Little Motbury’s short-lived amusement park, Clownland.

  ‘You’re quite safe,’ said Thanatos.

  ‘Good to know,’ said Elliot uncertainly. ‘Charon, if I don’t come back, get a message to the Gods.’

  ‘Will do,’ said Charon, producing a clipboard. ‘If I could just take a few details . . .’

  ‘Sorry?’ said Elliot.

  ‘Oh – new business venture,’ he said. ‘Courier service, DeadEx. What is the content of your package?’

  ‘Er . . . “Thanatos is trying to kill me. Please save my life.”’

  ‘Righto,’ said Charon. ‘Would you like our premium same-day delivery or economy in three to four business days? It’ll save you a fortune.’

  ‘I’ll pay the extra,’ said Elliot.

  ‘And would you like the item gift wrapped?’

  ‘Why not,’ said Elliot.

  ‘Great,’ chortled Charon, ticking his form. ‘See you later. Or not!’

  ‘Thanks,’ said Elliot, following Thanatos to the security desk, where a ferocious dog was watching security screens with two of its heads and playing a computer game with the third.

  ‘Hello again, Cerberus,’ said Thanatos.

  ‘Damn it!’ yelled the dog. ‘I’m all out of angry hamsters . . . All right, mate – how you travelling?’

  ‘Well, thank you,’ said Thanatos. ‘I’ve brought young Elliot with me – this is Cerberus, the finest security guard any world has ever known.’

  ‘Hiya, pal,’ said Cerberus’s left head. Elliot smiled weakly in response.

  ‘How are you?’ asked Thanatos.

  ‘Totally skint, mate.’ Cerberus shook his middle head. ‘The wife’s expecting again.’

  ‘More pups?’ asked Thanatos.

  ‘More shoes,’ groaned Cerberus. ‘The woman must have more feet than a mutant millipede . . .’

  Thanatos laughed cordially. ‘Do you mind if we pop in?’

  ‘No worries – help yourself,’ said the hound, returning to his game. ‘Ah – hamster-wheel power at last – result!’

  The almighty gates to the fiery prison creaked open and the anguished screams of the inmates coloured the stagnant Underworld air. Elliot peered inside. On balance, he preferred Clownland.

  ‘It’s not so bad,’ said Thanatos reassuringly. ‘Quite toasty really. Come.’

  Elliot stepped tentatively through the gates into the scorching wasteland. A tortured scream made him jump. Perhaps prison wasn’t his worst possible future.

  ‘So this is where you go if you’re really bad?’ he asked.

  ‘Allegedly,’ said Thanatos.

  ‘What have they done wrong?’

  ‘Ah – now that’s a matter of perspective,’ said Thanatos. ‘Wrong is a highly subjective construct.’

  ‘You what?’ asked Elliot.

  Thanatos laughed.

  ‘Let’s say Man A kills Man B,’ Thanatos began. ‘You’d probably say Man A was wrong.’

  ‘He is wrong.’

  ‘OK. What if Man B had stolen from Man A?’

  ‘Still wrong,’ said Elliot.

  ‘What if Man B was trying to set fire to Man A’s house?’

  ‘Man A and Man B are both wrong,’ said Elliot.

  Thanatos stopped and looked deep into Elliot’s eyes.

  ‘What if Man A’s children were inside the house?’ he asked. ‘What if the only way Man A could protect them was to kill Man B? Still wrong?’

  Elliot paused.

  ‘Yes . . .’ he said uncertainly.

  ‘But it might be more complicated than that!’ said Thanatos. ‘What if Man A had hurt Man B’s family? What if Man B was seeking justice? Who is wrong now?’

  ‘Man . . . I . . . it’s . . .’ said Elliot.

  ‘Ah – you see!’ said Thanatos triumphantly. ‘Now it’s not so clear. Right or wrong? Good or evil? Hero or villain? It all depends what story you’ve been told.’

  Elliot struggled to answer back. That was unusual. He thought of his dad’s story. Was there a different one? A better one?

  He stored ‘wrong is a highly subjective construct’ in his bank of excuses as they continued in silence through the wasteland of tortured souls.

  ‘Oi!’ shouted a passing woman as Thanatos knocked into her. ‘You made me drop it!’

  ‘Drop what?’ scoffed Thanatos. ‘You weren’t holding anything.’

  ‘Yes, I was!’ said the woman, showing her damp hands. ‘My sisters and I are trying to fill that over there.’

  She pointed towards an immense bronze urn, the size of a large house, at the top of a steep cliff. A long chain of women were walking barefoot up the jagged rocks between the lake in the bottom of the valley to the urn hundreds of feet above.

  ‘The jars they gave us to carry the water had holes in, but we can’t leave until we’ve filled the urn,’ she explained.

  ‘I remember you – you’re Asteria, one of Danaus’s daughters,’ said Thanatos. ‘I came to your wedding. Fifty sisters marrying fifty brothers. Nice affair. Excellent buffet – the best-man speech was a riot. Just a shame that forty-nine of you murdered your husbands on your wedding night.’

  ‘Don’t I know it,’ moped Asteria. ‘And now we’re stuck here. You try climbing up there with a handful of water. We’re lucky to get two drops in the urn. Still – we’re almost there. A few more runs and we’ve made it.’

  ‘Well – you know what they say,’ drawled Thanatos. ‘Blood is thicker than water.’

  ‘I’d slap you,’ said Asteria. ‘But there’s a drop on my pinkie I don’t want to waste.’

  She trudged off up the cliff. Elliot and Thanatos came to a lone, scrawny figure pushi
ng a vast boulder up the other side.

  ‘Sisyphus!’ cried Thanatos, throwing his arms open.

  ‘You can keep your “Thithyphuth” to your-thelf,’ he huffed. ‘I am theriouthly not thpeaking to you! Latht time you thet my progreth back dayth and weekth and months. Thith ith impothible enough ath it ith!’

  ‘I’m truly sorry,’ said Thanatos, bowing in apology. ‘I was only joshing. Here – let me help you.’

  Sisyphus stood with his arms across his boulder. ‘Not another thtep.’

  ‘Please,’ said Thanatos, bowing meekly. ‘Let me make amends.’

  Sisyphus looked to the top of his hill and back to the boulder. ‘No funny buithneth?’

  ‘None whatsoever,’ said Thanatos. ‘I’ll have that up there in a jiffy.’

  Thanatos rolled up the sleeves of his black robe and positioned himself beneath Sisyphus’s boulder. Elliot watched as, with his Daemon strength, Thanatos rolled the boulder up the hill as if it were made of cotton wool.

  ‘There!’ he said at the brow of the hill, making sure that Sisyphus could bear the weight. ‘I’ll leave you the satisfaction of finishing the job.’

  ‘Thith is thenthational!’ cried Sisyphus. ‘It’th the betht day ever! I will finally be releathed!’

  ‘Well, I’ll leave you to it,’ said Thanatos, heading back down the hill. ‘Enjoy your freedom.’

  ‘I thertainly will!’ strained Sisyphus, about to give the boulder one final push. ‘You’re a thuperthtar.’

  Thanatos rejoined Elliot, then turned back to the hill.

  ‘Oh, Sisyphus?’ he yelled. ‘One last thing . . .’

  ‘Yeth!’ groaned Sisyphus, milliseconds away from completing the task.

  ‘Your flies are undone!’

  ‘Oh, graciouth!’ exclaimed Sisyphus, releasing the boulder and clamping his hands to his trousers. ‘Thankth! That could have been thpectacularly embarrathing! Oh, no . . . ! No! NO! You thly little thnake . . . !’

  But it was too late. The boulder – and gravity – seized its moment. With a groan, the almighty rock began to plummet down the hill.

  ‘I’ll get you for thith!’ yelled Sisyphus, as Elliot tried hard not to laugh.

  But the boulder wasn’t done yet. Such was the speed of its descent that after it reached the floor of the valley, it started to climb the other side – straight towards Asteria and her sisters.

  ‘Look out!’ Sisyphus cried.

  ‘Don’t you even—!’ shouted Asteria, standing in front of the nearly full urn with her hands outstretched to protect it. ‘No, you don’t . . . no, you don’t . . . OK, yes, you do . . . Aaaaaargh!’

  She dived to avoid the approaching boulder, which crashed into the urn like a giant bowling ball, pouring centuries of water back down the hillside and into the valley below.

  ‘YOU IDIOT!’ shrieked the sisters as they raced down the cliff and up Sisyphus’s hill, forcing him to flee ninety-eight angry fists.

  ‘Now that was wrong,’ laughed Elliot in spite of himself as they headed away from Sisyphus and the crowd of angry women baying for his blood.

  ‘Fun, though,’ smiled Thanatos as they continued through the firy wilderness. For an evil maniac, Elliot had to admit that Thanatos had a decent sense of humour. Although this place was no joke.

  ‘Why have you brought me here?’ he said, looking nervously back to the distant gates. He didn’t ever want to be trapped in this place.

  Don’t get caught then, said his dark voice.

  ‘I want to show you what I can offer you,’ said Thanatos. ‘Here we are.’

  Elliot surveyed the stone prison built on a small island, surrounded by a river of fire.

  ‘No offence,’ he said, ‘but it’s not your best argument.’

  ‘Comrades!’ bellowed Thanatos. ‘It is I, your leader – I have returned!’

  Elliot could hear frenzied whispers within the prison.

  ‘In order to verify your identity, we need to ask you a few security questions,’ came a shrill voice.

  ‘Epiphron, Daemon of Carefulness,’ Thanatos whispered to Elliot. ‘Stickler for procedure . . . Go on!’

  ‘What is your date of birth?’ asked Epiphron.

  ‘I know! I know!’ shouted a new voice enthusiastically. ‘The second of June 1979 BC.’

  ‘Shut up, Zelus!’ Epiphron chided.

  ‘Daemon of Competitiveness,’ winked Thanatos. ‘Proceed.’

  ‘What was the name of your first pet?’ asked Epiphron.

  ‘Bubonic, my rat,’ said Thanatos. ‘He was wonderful.’

  ‘Loyal?’ said Epiphron.

  ‘Tasty,’ smiled Thanatos. Elliot stifled a laugh.

  ‘And finally, please state the top-secret, randomly generated, highly secure unique password we sent you,’ said Epiphron.

  ‘“Password”,’ sighed Thanatos, raising an eyebrow.

  ‘Correct,’ said Epiphron. ‘Now tell us, O great one . . . when the bloomin’ heck are you busting us out of here?’

  ‘Soon, my subjects, soon,’ said Thanatos. ‘But until then, might you give Elliot here an indication of your abilities? I’m trying to show how . . . pleasant we can make his life.’

  ‘My name is Soteria – I am the Daemon of Safety,’ a gentle voice began. ‘I can take care of you, Elliot . . .’

  ‘I am Eutykhia, Daemon of Luck,’ came another voice. ‘Every day is a lucky day when I’m on your side . . .’

  ‘Let’s be friends, Elliot – I’m Eudaemonia,’ laughed another. ‘As Daemon of Happiness, you need never be sad again . . .’

  ‘I’m Oizys, Daemon of Misery,’ moaned another. ‘I can make your life completely awful.’

  ‘Bad example,’ said Thanatos. ‘You see, we Daemons each take care of a different aspect of mortal life. We understand mortals because we share your experiences. Can you say the same of the Gods?’

  Elliot thought of Zeus trying to do the ironing and said nothing.

  ‘But there’s one Daemon I’m sure you’d like to know. Where are you, Hygeia?’

  ‘I am here, Master,’ said a soothing voice.

  ‘Tell Elliot what you can do.’

  ‘I am the Daemon of Health,’ she lilted. ‘There’s no one I can’t cure. You and your loved ones need never be ill again. I can give anyone perfect health.’

  Perfect health? Elliot scanned Thanatos’s face. Was he lying?

  ‘It’s true,’ said Thanatos, reading his doubt. ‘Isn’t it Pistis, Daemon of Truth?’

  ‘Yes,’ came the reply. ‘Although the chances of you staying alive long enough to take advantage of it are—’

  ‘Fantastic,’ said Thanatos. ‘So you see – we have a lot to offer you.’

  ‘But you want the Chaos Stones,’ said Elliot.

  ‘Not just want – need,’ insisted Thanatos. ‘Only they can free my Daemons from this place – it will take an earthquake, hurricane, flood and fire.’

  ‘So why don’t I just free them?’ said Elliot. ‘I don’t need you at all.’

  ‘I like your style,’ nodded Thanatos. ‘But I am their King. They only answer to me.’

  ‘No, we don’t,’ squeaked a voice.

  ‘Silence Dysnomia!’ roared Thanatos. ‘Daemon of Lawlessness,’ he explained to Elliot. ‘Total managerial headache . . . Think about it, Elliot. Don’t you think the world could do with some more of these qualities – joy, happiness, good luck?’

  ‘Misery, lawlessness . . .’ said Elliot as they started back towards the gate.

  ‘Every silver lining has a cloud,’ said Thanatos. ‘But these are not matters you need concern yourself with. You need only worry about your mother. And I think you worry about her a great deal . . .’

  ‘Don’t you talk about her,’ snapped Elliot.

  ‘Sorry,’ smirked Thanatos. ‘But as it’s your birthday, I’m prepared to improve upon my initial offer. Give me the Earth Stone. Tell me where the others are. I will bring your mother to my Daemons and heal her. You’ll both be safe from my
. . . plans, I swear it. I’ll even throw in Plutus, Daemon of Wealth. Have a mansion on me.’

  Elliot’s brain worked overtime to remember what he’d be agreeing to if he handed Thanatos the Chaos Stones, the elemental gems so powerful even the King of the Gods feared them. Thanatos wanted to enslave enough mortals to serve him, then cull the rest with natural disasters. That meant innocent people, people he knew, people in Little Motbury indiscriminately wiped out with tsunamis or earthquakes. How could he live with that?

  In a mansion, said his dark voice. With Mum.

  ‘Think on it,’ said Thanatos. ‘You get your mother – I get the hassle of retrieving the stones. No rush.’

  After a silent stroll back through the hellish wilderness, they arrived back at Charon’s ship.

  ‘Tell me,’ Thanatos began. ‘Why are you allowing the Gods to stay at your home?’

  Elliot shrugged. ‘They’re my friends,’ he said. ‘They’re protecting me.’

  ‘Protecting you?’ Thanatos asked. ‘Or protecting the Earth Stone?’

  He gestured towards the watch in Elliot’s fist. Elliot hadn’t realized he’d been holding it.

  ‘Me,’ said Elliot, less certainly than he’d intended.

  ‘Just ask yourself, who is protecting what?’ whispered Thanatos. ‘Charon – you take Elliot home, I could use the leg-stretch.’

  ‘Right you are, guv,’ said the boatman. ‘All aboard.’

  Elliot stepped thoughtfully into the Ship of Death.

  ‘Why can’t you just release the good Daemons?’ he said. ‘Why not just leave the bad ones there?’

  ‘Because I told you, Elliot – there’s no such thing as good or bad. Only the story you’ve been told,’ smiled the Daemon, removing a piece of parchment from his pocket. ‘You must go. But if you ever need me, write me a note on this parchment and throw it into the night – it’ll find me. I look forward to seeing you again. And, Elliot?’

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘Happy Birthday,’ said the Daemon of Death.

  The ship pulled away from the bank, carrying Elliot and the weight of all his thoughts back towards the Earth. It might not have been the happiest birthday he’d ever had. But it certainly wasn’t one he was likely to forget. ‘WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?’ screamed Aphrodite, nearly knocking Elliot over with the force of her hug as he walked into Home Farm.