Monsters of Greek Mythology, Volume Two (55 page)

“How about what I want now?” he said. “How about her?” He grasped Menthe by the arm.

“She shall be your companion, of course,” said Demeter. “She shall go with you to Tartarus, down to the banks of the Styx itself, and there you shall find her waiting for you each time you cross and recross that fatal stream. Will you do it? Will you serve me? Will you unlock the crops by saving my daughter?”

“I'm yours,” he said to Demeter. “Through hell and high water.”

He strode off with Menthe at his side, her long legs matching him stride for stride.

6

Infernal Plans

Hades' underground realm was laced with veins of raw gold and silver, and held great troves of diamonds, rubies, sapphires. Here also had come a working party of those gigantic one-eyed smiths called Cyclopes. Master artisans, cousins to the gods, they chose to dwell in Hell because they could use its hotter flames for forge fires, and draw upon its hoard of gems and precious metals. There in their smithy they wrought the marvelous jewelry that Hades used to bribe Zeus when he had broken the divine code and wished to evade the penalties.

But after a thousand years of buying his way over, under, and through the law, Hades had come to know the High Judge very well. And knew that while Zeus could be bribed, he didn't always stay bribed. Hades also understood his sister, Demeter—knew how hot tempered and stubborn she was, how fiercely she doted on her daughter. So he was very much aware that the Harvest queen would shake heaven and trouble earth as she sought to reclaim Persephone and punish her abductor.

In short, Hades knew that because he had kidnapped the Spring Maiden he would be attacked from every quarter. And he prepared to defend himself.

He summoned a trusted adviser, a suave devil named Thanatos, and received him, not in his vast throne room, but on a basalt ledge overlooking the Lake of Fire. Here swam those shades who had been condemned to special punishment. Desperately, they breasted the flames trying to reach a shore that shrank away as they came near.

“Greetings, my lord,” said Thanatos. “This is one of my favorite spots. It's so amusing to watch them swimming, burning, swimming, burning. The shore always recedes before them, but they never learn, do they?”

“Well, they're in agony,” said Hades. “It doesn't much matter what they do. This was Hecate's favorite spot also, you know. She liked it because it's so high. From here she could watch over the widest part of my realm, and with her matchless eyesight could spot anyone breaking any rule even in the remotest corner of Hell. From here she would launch herself on golden wings, fall upon the offender, seize him in her claws, swing her stingray whip, and flay him down to the pulsing pink core.”

“You miss her, don't you, my lord?”

“Aye, that I do,” growled Hades. “But to think that she would trade the power and privilege of her office for life in a cave somewhere with her dribbling little scribbler.… I can't understand it.”

“Neither can I,” said Thanatos, who agreed with Hades on every possible occasion. “Can't understand it at all.”

“What gripes me particularly,” said Hades, “is that there was no one like her for keeping order down here. All my fiends and demons, trained for brutality though they are, were frightened by her very shadow, and didn't dare step out of line. Since she has been gone, though, they've been fighting among themselves, stealing from each other. Their pitchforks grow rusty, the roasting pits are cold, they neglect the shades who wander about, untormented. In general, things are going to heaven!”

Thanatos shuddered. Hades seldom cursed; when he did, it meant that he was in a foul mood indeed, and that meant that anyone in the neighborhood would very soon be made to suffer. Thanatos was relieved when Hades did not smash his head in with his ebony scepter, but said:

“Another reason I need her now is that we shall soon be under attack. My shrieking shrew of a sister is raging up and down the earth and climbing Olympus to batter at the portals of the cloud castle, demanding that my realm be invaded and that my bride be taken from me by force. I shall resist, of course—unleash all the legions of Hell to keep what is mine. But in such warfare, Hecate would be invaluable to me.”

“Invaluable,” murmured Thanatos. “Uniquely so.”

“We must replace her, don't you agree?”

“Oh, I agree, I agree! No one could agree more heartily. Replace her with whom?”

“That's where you come in, Thanatos.”

“Me? As you know, my lord, I am ready to serve you with every last atom of my strength—and beyond. But I must admit, I'm not much of a fighter. Behind-the-lines strategy is more my style.”

Hades almost smiled. “No, my chicken-livered hellion, I don't expect you to take her place. Of course not. What I want you to do is visit the Upper World and use all your cunning to find a replacement for Hecate. There must be some clever, ambitious monster somewhere whom I can train to rule the Harpies.”

“Dark Majesty, I'm on my way!” cried Thanatos, hardly able to conceal his joy at being permitted to leave with his skull intact.

“Not so fast,” growled Hades. “You're not going up there on a vacation, you know. Your orders are to put yourself in the way of the ablest monsters of earth and sea. Only by canvassing the entire roster of fearsome predators will you be able to find the one we want.”

“O Hades,” cried Thanatos, trying not to let his voice quaver, “in your service I shall make danger my business—and accomplish the task you have set me, or be devoured in the attempt.”

He bowed low, and hurried off. Hades looked after him. “A coward,” he thought. “But he fears me more than any monster imaginable, and such fear can be a spur. And his wits are as sharp as his heart is faint.”

7

Advice Underseas

Thanatos knew that the sea was a prime site for monsters, that most of them had been spawned there, even those who had climbed ashore. He also knew that Poseidon would welcome the feud between Hades and Demeter. The sea god liked the other gods to be at odds; it gave him a chance to raid their territories while they were fighting each other.

So Thanatos visited Poseidon in his great coral castle in the deepest part of the Ocean Stream. He gasped as he entered the enormous throne room, for it was as opulent as that of Hades, and much less gloomy. The silver and gold from the holds of sunken ships had been used to inlay floor and ceiling. The throne was of walrus-tusk ivory. Into the walls were cut great panes of crystal through which filtered the green light of undersea. Sharks and octopi glided past. Swordfish, balloon fish, and a shoal of lithe nereids pressed against the panes, smiling in.

And Poseidon was smiling as he sat on his throne. His crown was of gold and pearl, and pearls were braided into his green beard. His scepter was a trident.

“Welcome, Thanatos,” he rumbled. “Do you come on embassy from my brother?”

“Not exactly,” said Thanatos, “but I do come on his business. It's a difficult matter, and I come to you, Moist Majesty, for counsel.”

“Speak.”

“As you may have heard, Hecate, Queen of the Harpies, has quit her post, and my master seeks a replacement. Now, your realm, so rich in so many ways, also abounds in monsters of all sizes, dispositions, and capacities.”

“Hordes of 'em,” said Poseidon. “We'll have to narrow the field. If this creature is to rule the Harpies and patrol Hell as Hecate did, it'll need wings, won't it? That rules out Ceto and Echidna and Ladon and the rest of the sea serpents. There are a pair of flying hags called Gorgons who are unpleasant enough to qualify as Harpies, but they've been exiled by their mother to the far northern wastes to guard their enchanted sister, Medusa. But that's another story. Anyway, they're not available. Besides, they're so ugly I don't think Hades could abide them for a second, no matter what service they could render. What else flies? Yes … there's another thing with wings—a very terrible thing I know only by reputation. Oh, I caught a glimpse of it once, but was too far away to be able to tell anything except that it was very big and moved with terrific speed.… Why do I call it
it
? It's a she.”

“Does she dwell in the sea?”

“Not in my sea, nor in any of the cliffs girdling it. But did her hunting here, and I bear her a grudge. There used to be a pod of charming whales who would gather in a great chorus and sing at sunrise and dusk. Marvelous voices! In the evening they would come right here beyond those windows and serenade me. But that creature I'm telling you about—who's called the Sphinx, incidentally—formed a taste for them. Hunted them ruthlessly, I'm told, diving out of the sky and raking them up in her claws like a gull after herring. So they quitted this part of the sea and migrated to northern waters. Some instinct told them that the Sphinx hated the cold, and that they could hide from her in the icy depths. So they're gone, and she's gone too.”

“Any idea where?”

“Rumor says that she burrows into the hot desert sand, in Egypt most likely. I don't know how much truth there is in the rumor. Nereids gossip ceaselessly, and make up what they don't know. But I give it to you for what it's worth.”

“I thank you, Moist Majesty.”

8

Dream-Tinkering

Thanatos hovered invisibly, watching a tribe called the Amaleki working itself into a frenzy. These were huge, ferocious warriors of the North African hill country who came into the desert once a year to catch mounts out of the wild camel herds. Not ordinary camels, but white racing stock, purebred. Astride these swift beasts, the Amaleki were the finest cavalry in that part of the world.

Now, in the valley that was their encampment, they were leaping and dancing about a bonfire, stoking themselves into the battle frenzy that had carried them to victory after victory. But their intention did not suit the plan that Thanatos had been spinning. He changed himself into a stone figure, and in a voice that was like a rock slide rumbled, “No!”

The tribesmen stopped dancing and stared in amazement. At first they saw nothing. The long, wavering shadows cast by the fire confused their sight. Thanatos came forward into the firelight. Immediately, the savage, bearded warriors fell to the ground, prostrating themselves.

One raised his head and spoke. He was their leader, Momo. “Welcome,” he cried. “A thousand welcomes, O Nameless One. Thank you for appearing to your children, O God of Rock, carved from the central bone of Mother Earth. Thank you, thank you! Fill our bellies with courage and our arms with strength, for we go into battle against a monster that is devouring our camels. Bless us, bless us!”

“I come with more than blessings,” boomed Thanatos. “I come with a gift of life. Yes, I give you back those lives you were about to throw away. You are to retire into the hills with the camels that remain to you, and leave the monster undisturbed. For if you go against her, who is called the Sphinx, you will surely die. Go, I say. Mount your camels and ride back into the hills—and think of new ways to praise me who has saved you from your own folly.”

He vanished as suddenly as he had appeared. Hovered invisibly again, watching the tribesmen prod their camels awake, and gallop away.

Thanatos watched them until they had gone, then floated over the brown sands in search of the monster's burrow.

“I have deprived my master of many fine corpses this day,” he said to himself. “But he will forgive me when he understands why I forbade the tribesmen to attack the Sphinx. He will understand that I had no wish to save their lives—far from it—but had to make sure that they did not disrupt her evening meal of camel and arouse her to fighting fury. I need her belly-full and deep asleep for my plan to work.”

A dry riverbed called a
wadi
served as a burrow for the Sphinx. Bones littered its banks—the long leg bones and sharp rib cages and oval skulls of the camels she had devoured. Jackals searched the bones, cracking them for their last crumbs of marrow. The place stank. And Thanatos was grateful for the small wind that had arisen when the sun fell.

He moved upwind of the wadi and peered over its silted bank, and gasped at what he saw. “So the tales are true,” he murmured. A lion's body she had, but of a lion as big as an elephant. Her head was hidden under her wing, and he couldn't see her face. Then she grunted and shifted, and in the bright moonlight he saw her face—that of a young woman—but her teeth were the fangs of a great cat. Her hair flowed cleanly back from her face and became a lion's mane.

He looked up. The stars flared like torches in the vast desert sky, and the moon seemed to be climbing as he watched. He raised his arms and began to spin, muttering as he spun.

Now, it must be understood that Thanatos was half brother to Hypnos, God of Sleep, and shared the family talent for dream management. It was this talent he now began to use in the service of his master.

He turned toward the north, singing wordlessly. In his song were the mingled voices of cold beasts—polar bear growl, seal bark, howl of the white wolf, cry of the great Arctic owl. The wind strengthened and swerved, and blew now from the north. An icy puff of it traveled down his outstretched arm and along his pointing finger—and blew down into the wadi, into the Sphinx's sleep.

She saw herself on the desert, in bright sunlight, moving toward her burrow. But the desert had changed. A wind scythed down from the north, lifting the sand into spouts. One of them whirled about her. And she, daughter of the sandstorm princess, whirled exultantly within it. But the old frenzied heat did not seize her; she was cold, horribly cold. The whirling cone was not sand; it was snow, fine granulated snow where no snow had ever fallen. She beat her wings, scattering the spout, and rushed toward her burrow.

But the riverbed had become a river again, and was frozen. Sunlight, hitting the strange ice, splintered and mingled with the blowing snow. Icy needles of light seemed to be aiming themselves at her very marrow. She shuddered deeply, half-knowing that she was asleep, hoping she was. She tried to awake, but could not. She was locked in sleep, caged in her dream, imprisoned in weird frost.