"Someone will be right with you."
"Thank you," Charlotte said. "Um, I don't want to be rude, but are you, you know, trapped in there?" She'd read about people in Greek myths getting punished by being trapped in trees. Columns were another story, but…
The column laughed. "No, no. I'm a spell, lovey. An awfully good one, if I do say so myself. Unfortunately, no one gets to see it much these days. Not too many people come to the front door requesting an audience with the King, you know? It's my cross to bear. Well, anyway"-he yawned again-"I think it's time for a nap."
And with that, the eyes and mouth disappeared. A few moments later the enormous door creaked open, and Charlotte found herself staring at a man in a tailcoat, with stark white skin and no face at all. He bowed deeply.
"Mademoiselle," he said in a voice that sounded like smoke. "Come in."
"Um, okay," she whispered.
Before her was a long hallway, impossibly long, really, with an impossibly high ceiling. The walls, floor, and ceiling were all in black. Black doors lined the hall in perfect symmetry, candle sconces lit the walls, and an eternally long Persian rug rolled off into the distance.
"Wow," Charlotte whispered under her breath.
"It's hand knotted," said the butler rather ominously. Charlotte did not stop to wonder how he talked with no mouth.
"The Palace doesn't look this big from the outside…" she said faintly.
The butler laughed a knowing laugh. "No, it doesn't, does it? Come this way"
He led Charlotte through the hallway into a small sitting room, which looked like it belonged in that railroad baron's house she'd been to on many years' worth of field trips. Ornate furniture, rich fabrics, opulent art, and even some lace doilies dotted the room. The only sign that this was not an ordinary room in an ordinary manor was the size of the furniture – clearly built for those many feet taller than she.
"Wait here, please," the butler said, bowing. "I'll come get you when the King is ready to receive you."
Charlotte nodded, feeling a little like a dwarf.
"Would you like anything?" he continued. "Tea? Our chef makes an excellent scone. Light as air."
"No. Thank you," Charlotte said firmly.
"As you wish." The butler left. This all seemed surprisingly easy to Charlotte. She suspected that you couldn't just waltz into most palaces, ask for an audience, and be shown right to the king. Shouldn't Hades have a bit more security? This did not seem to bode well. Charlotte sat in the room, her legs swinging in the giant chair, hugging herself, thinking of all the things that did not bode well, and practicing what she would say to the King of the Underworld. Coup … army… shadows… danger. And when that was done and settled, when he had sent out his army to squash Philonecron, she could ask him why he didn't treat the Dead better. At least let them into the City! Not that the City was that great, but, you know, it's not nice not to let them in. It's the principle of the thing.
Then she could go back and get Zee and Mr. Metos, and they could go home. Wouldn't that be nice?
Soon the butler returned and led Charlotte back down the endless hallway. The butler knocked on one of the black doors, and a voice boomed, "Bring her in."
An involuntary shiver ran through Charlotte. The voice seemed to penetrate her body, resonating straight through to her heart. It was as if she had been thrown into a bath filled with ice water, as if her blood had suddenly changed to ice. She gulped and followed the butler inside.
She entered a vast throne room, which appeared, in itself, to be as big as the Palace walls. Two giant ebony thrones loomed at the end of the room, and the black marble floor gleamed. On either wall two large sets of glass doors led onto balconies-which Charlotte hadn't seen from the outside, and for that matter, one of the balconies was where the hall should be. The walls were lined with intricate tapestries. (The tapestries portrayed the formation of the earth and the ascendancy of the Olympian gods, though Charlotte didn't notice-and could you blame her? When you are in the presence of the Lord of the Dead, you don't stop to look at the art.)
And there was said Lord of the Dead, lording over the cavernous room. As Charlotte approached, the room seemed to shrink, while Hades seemed to grow.
With a face of shadow and bone, he looked as though he had been carved out of a tree. A black beard hung gloomily on his thin face. He had at least a foot of height on Philonecron, though he seemed to stretch before her eyes. He wore a plain crown, wielded a scepter, and was cloaked in blackness. Next to Hades stood an angular figure with pitch-black skin, white eyes, and a shiny, bald head, but Charlotte barely noticed him- she only had eyes for Hades.
She reached the thrones and kneeled, for that is what one does in the presence of a king.
"Charlotte Ruth Mielswetzski," Hades intoned.
She started. "How… how… do you know my name?"
"I know everyone's name," he said. "You all belong to me, after all."
Well, that was one of the creepiest things Charlotte had heard all day-and it was a long list.
"But," he continued, peering at her, "you're mortal. What are you doing here? How did you get here?"
Charlotte gulped. "Your Highness. I'll tell you later. There isn't time. I'm here because you're in danger. The Kingdom is in danger…" In a rush she spilled out everything she could about Philonecron and the shadows, ending with a plaintive, "They'll be here soon!"
"Oh, yes, Philonecron." Hades waved his hand. "Assistant Manager of Sanitation. Charon told me all about it. He'll never be able do it. He needs that boy to enchant the shadows, and he'll never be able to get him down here. It's impossible." Hades nodded importantly at Charlotte and the black-skinned man. "I made a Decree!"
"But," Charlotte said, bewildered. "The boy is down here. I mean, I'm down here."
"Yes, you are!" He tilted his head. "How did you get down here?"
"I took a bus to the Mall. And there was a door, and we opened it."
Hades leaned in. "Just like that?"
Charlotte nodded.
"Impossible," he declared.
This was not going well. Charlotte stood up, brushed off her knees, and said quietly, "Sir, Zee-the boy-is here. I'm here. We opened the door, and we came down, and the Harpies made fun of me, and now Philonecron has Zee. Please believe me."
"Hmmm…" Hades looked at the black-skinned man, who was, of course, Thanatos, Chief of Staff. "I see this Philonecron's power is growing. Banish him, will you?"
"My Lord…" Thanatos bowed. "Um, he is already banished."
"Oh," Hades said. "Clever of me…" He looked off somewhere in the direction of the window. "Where is my wife?"
"I don't know" Thanatos bowed again. "Probably in her garden."
"Yes, yes, probably… I'm sure she'll be back for supper."
"Excuse me? Your Highness?" Charlotte inhaled and stepped forward. Underneath Hades' cloak she could see the faint outline of a potbelly. "The shadows are coming. They could be here any minute. They're coming to overthrow you. You have to do something! Do you have an army?"
Hades blinked at her. "Army?"
"To defend the Kingdom?"
He glanced at Thanatos, then shook his head. "Why would I need an army? This is the Underworld. No one else wants it."
"Well," Charlotte said, "someone does now"
Hades sat back in his chair and stared at Charlotte. At that moment the marble floor seemed to shake. Something in the distance rumbled.
Hades tilted his head. "Did you hear something?"
"Oh no," Charlotte moaned.
CHAPTER 24
ZEE PACED BACK AND FORTH IN THE SMALL CAVE. THE footmen had shut the secret door to the shadows cavern behind them, and he found himself in a ten-foot-by-ten-foot prison with nothing but a flat rock on the floor to keep him company and the dank smell of the Underworld sneaking in from the cave entrance. Zee kicked the walls a few times, until it started to hurt a lot, and then he kicked up some dust and then threw around some pebbles and then chastised himself for kicking and/or throwing things when he should be doing something to save humanity.