CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED EIGHTY-THREE

Styx!, Part 2

WARNING! You’ve been caught in an [Paralyzing Glare]. Your Wisdom is not high enough to repel it. ALERT! Regeneration is working to counteract the paralysis.

Seconds ticked by while Sam was frozen in place, with Regeneration failing to break the paralysis placed upon the hero. Thankfully, the hooded figure eventually chose to lower his gaze, and the spell that had locked Sam’s limbs broke.

Sam pressed the left node on his belt and summoned Gram to his hand. At the same time, he activated the Shades feature of the Mask of the Argonaut as added protection against ocular abilities. Despite this obvious provocation from him, the hooded figure made no move to attack Sam. Instead, a man’s voice could be heard from deep within the hood, although he spoke in a language Sam didn’t understand.

He is speaking in an ancient Greek dialect that hasn’t been spoken in more than two thousand years.

Can you translate?

Yes. However, the system can also teach you how to speak and understand ancient Greek if you prefer.

Do it.

Sam felt a sting inside his head—the beginnings of a massive migraine—but the pain subsided as quickly as it had come.

“H-hello,” he said.

Sam thought he’d spoken in English, but the words coming out of his lips were certainly not English.

“Who are you?” A cold voice asked. “Why do you interrupt my solitude?”

“I can understand you…” Sam whispered. “Holy Ze—”

He stopped himself again.

“I’m speaking ancient Greek…” he finished lamely.

“No. You speak the language of dead men.” The hooded figure replied. “Yet you are not one of the dead.”

“I’m not.”

At Sam’s declaration, the hooded figure began to laugh. Not the taunting laugh Sam often heard these days from people who kept underestimating him, but a burst of genuine laughter one makes after hearing a good joke.

“Um, I didn’t say anything funny…” Sam protested.

“No, you did not,” the hooded figure replied after his laughter had subsided. “I simply found it funny that I was speaking to a living man. I have not done that since D.B. Cooper stole a fortune in precious gems from Hades’ treasury.”

Anyone who walked the path of heroism has heard of D.B. Cooper, the famous thief who hijacked a plane carrying the wealth Hades had sent to the mortal world for one of his mortal mistresses so that he could steal that wealth and then parachute out of the airplane without ever getting caught by gods or men.

“I heard about that…” Sam tried his best not to smile at remembering a misfortune that had befallen the god of the Olympian underworld. “They say no one ever caught him.”

“Indeed.” The hooded figure nodded. “To this day, D.B. Cooper remains the most wanted man in Hades. Although no one knows if his spirit even arrived here after his death.”

“Um, how did you know I wasn’t dead though?”

“I did not know at first… when you approached me, I thought you were one of my admirers seeking a retelling of how I’d died from a wound in my…”

It didn’t seem like he wanted to say that last part out loud, making Sam curious about his new acquaintance’s identity.

Triple-A… did you do this?

The system tweaked your internal energy output to mimic the life force signature of the target.

Smart. But tell me next time.

Yes.

“It was only after our conversation began that I noticed your life force flare up,” the hooded figure continued. “You shone so brightly in this dark place that I was surprised I did not notice you before now… I assume you are an illusionist like Houdini.”

Sam recalled a conversation he’d had with Chiron about Houdini’s formidable gift of illusion back when he was fighting the Trickster inside the New York Metropolitan Museum. It was quite flattering for the hero to be compared to such a well-known magician.

“You know Houdini and D.B. Cooper…” Sam reiterated. “Who are you?”

The figure removed his hood, revealing wavy golden hair framing a chiseled face with handsome features, the kind of classic look Sam would often see in paintings of old heroes. He had seen this particular face once before in a painting at the Met’s Greek exhibit.

“Holy Zeus!” Sam couldn’t help himself this time. “Aren’t you Achilles?”

Achilles, hero of the Trojan War, the greatest warrior of the ancient world, and Sam’s senior in the hierarchy of Argonauts. That was a very big name, and Sam couldn’t believe he was meeting one of his idols.

“You know me?” Achilles asked.

Sam nodded. “I’m a huge fan, sir.”

Achilles raised a bushy eyebrow at Sam. “What is a fan?”

“Ah… someone who admires your, um, achievements and stuff.”

“I see… You are an admirer then…” A melancholic look passed over Achilles’ face. “Achievements…”

An awkward silence passed between them, with Sam guessing that he might have struck a nerve because everyone knew that Achilles had failed his final quest after getting struck by an arrow in his heel which was the only part of him that was vulnerable.

“Um, Achilles, sir…” Sam didn’t have time to let the old hero wallow about the past though because he needed to reunite with his friends as soon as possible, and he thought Achilles might have some intel he could use in his search. “I was wondering if you’d seen other living people like me while you were fishing here…”

Sam glanced sideways at the river Styx and wondered what Achilles was even fishing for. There didn’t seem to be anything living inside that hopeless river.

“I have,” Achilles replied after a while.

Sam’s eyes lit up. “Where?”

Achilles frowned at Sam. “Information is power here in Hades. It is not given freely.”

“What do you want?”

“What can you give?”

“Um… hold on.”

Triple-A? Sam called. What kind of trade would entice a dead man?

The dead have many desires, but a lost soul idling by the river Styx instead of enjoying the pleasures of Elysium could have something to do with his regrets.

It was a good piece of advice because someone like Achilles would naturally have many regrets, leaving Sam to the conclusion that if he could help Achilles solve his problem then the fallen hero might help him in return.

“How can I help you… move on?”

Achilles smiled. “You catch on quick for a living man.”

The fallen hero’s gaze drifted back to the Styx, and Sam could see the sadness clear in his eyes.

I have had many companions in life, and even more in death,” he began, “but one companion I have not seen is the one man I long to see.”

It didn’t take long for Sam to guess whom Achilles had meant as he was a huge fanboy of the hero and knew his myth.

“Patroclus,” Sam answered. “You’re looking for Patroclus…”

Achilles nodded.

“I had hoped to find a clue of him here in this river where failed dreams gather… and I did, but someone else found him before I did… Now my dear friend, like so many others, has become a prize in a game of blood and sand wrought by a crooked fool who plays at being judge, jury, and king.”

“A game of blood and sand…” Sam had heard these words uttered before as they’d been used to describe the old gladiator tournaments in Rome. “There’s a coliseum in the underworld?”

“In Elysium… the one place I cannot go,” Achilles’ whispered angrily.

“Why not?”

“Because I am filled with regret… and even the greatest of heroes cannot enter paradise with broken hearts.”

“The one thing that can rid you of your regret and heal your broken heart is Patroclus’ soul… but you can’t go to him… So, you want me to rescue him?”

Achilles nodded. “Truly… you are wise beyond your years.”

Truthfully, Sam could understand exactly what Achilles was going through as he was feeling that very same desperation himself. Thunder was his heart, and she was missing somewhere in Hades while Sam was frantic to find her. It’s why he couldn’t agree to Achilles’ request because it seemed that going to Elysium and joining the ‘game’ held there would delay Sam’s reunion with Thunder. Not to mention his mission to stop Medea from raising Pride from its grave.

He explained this to Achilles, but the fallen hero told Sam that their fates might be more connected than Sam was aware of.

“What you seek, you will find in Elysium… It is not for the dead that the game has been reinstated,” Achilles explained.

“Medea…” Sam realized. “She’s in Elysium too.”

“Do not speak that name out loud where others can hear… the dead have long memories and even longer grudges against evil sorceresses,” Achilles warned.

“Sorry-sorry…” Sam said placatingly. “Um, about this game you were talking about… It’s not a gladiator game, is it?”

“It is…” Achilles answered. “One greater than any before it for this Contest of Champions will feature some of the most storied heroes and villains in all of Hades.”

“Except for you…” Sam pointed out.

“Except for me.” Achilles puffed out his chest. “Which means you have a chance to win it.”

“And if I agree to join this game and save Patroclus’ soul, will you tell me the way to Elysium?”

Achilles held up a hand. “You must swear on the river Styx. Only then will I believe in you.”

Sam knew that an oath made by the river Styx was binding. Disaster would befall him if he failed to keep it. Still, he now had a clue about finding Thunder, which is why Sam didn’t hesitate. “I swear by the river Styx that if you show me the way to Elysium then I will join the Contest of Champions and try—”

“There is no try,” Achilles began, to which Sam finished with, “Only do…”

He sighed.

“Fine.” Sam balled his hand into a fist. “I swear to win the Contest of Champions and reunite the soul of Patroclus with Achilles.”

No sooner had these words spilled from Sam’s mouth when the river beside them began to glow a cold steely hue. It lasted only a moment, but when the waters of the river Styx cooled once more Sam could sense a shift inside of him. As if a chain had just been placed over his heart which he instinctively knew would only be removed after his oath was fulfilled.

“Very well,” Achilles nodded. “I accept your oath.”

“So, you’ll show me the way?” Sam asked.

Achilles raised his arm high and a spear appeared in his hand.

“I’ll show you the way…” The fallen hero grinned. “After I teach you how to win the game.”

Sam gulped. “Why do I feel like another training montage is about to begin…”