He turned to the shadows, who were standing in formation behind him. "Shadows! That man is chained to the cliff." Zee pointed toward Mr. Metos, his stomach twisting.
Was he condemning humanity to save one man? He had no choice. There are people in the world who have the constitution to sacrifice one for many. Zee was not one of those people. "He's been injured. I want you to unchain him and bring him down to me. Be very careful with him."
In a moment two of the shadows sprang from the group. Long arms and legs flickered out from their bodies like flames from a fire, and in a blink they were swimming up the rock face, their arms and legs treading air as they moved swiftly upward. Zee's stomach turned; he'd rather expected them to go the normal way, like walking up a path. They were inhuman, unreal; they were shadowy monsters who moved like night. Were their counterparts swarming up the walls of the Palace even now?
Soon- frighteningly soon- the two of them had reached Mr. Metos. Zee watched as, in perfect synchronicity, they each stretched an arm out into the iron manacles that held him. In the next moment the manacles exploded-bits of iron flew everywhere. Zee hugged himself.
And then Mr. Metos began to fall. A gargled scream escaped from Zee's throat as he watched the man plunge toward the ground. Zee tried to yell something to the shadows-anything-but his words choked in his mouth. Mr. Metos's arms went out into the air, thrashing, a drowning man trying desperately to swim in sky.
It was as though the Footmen were there, slowing time down-but they were not; there was only a helpless Zee, a flailing, plummeting Mr. Metos, and the murderous shadows.
Zee closed his eyes and clutched Mew to him, waiting to hear the sickly thump of man against ground.
But the sound never came. His eyes opened and he saw a thicket of shadows in front of him, arms raised into the sky, holding Mr. Metos up in the air as if he were a virgin to be sacrificed. The shadows walked Mr. Metos over to Zee and deposited him gently at his feet, then stood at attention again. Mew let out a squeak, burst out of Zee's arms, and limped her way toward Mr. Metos, while aftershocks of horror rippled through Zee's body.
Mr. Metos lay on the ground, clutching his stomach, grimacing at the shadows, and muttering to himself. Zee sprang over to him.
"Mr. Metos, are you all right?"
Mr. Metos looked at Zee darkly and shook his head. "Zachary, you fool! There was no time for this. You should have -" Suddenly he stopped talking; Mew had started honking her head lightly against Mr. Metos's arm, and he was staring at her, wide eyed. "Is that a cat?"
"Yes," Zee said. "It's Charlotte's cat…" He paused, then asked carefully, "You don't… know her, do you?" If she were some sort of Greek somebody, it would explain a lot.
But Mr. Metos just looked at Zee oddly. "The cat? No!" He shook his head quickly. "What is she doing down here?"
Zee shrugged. "Saving us?"
Mr. Metos tried to prop himself up and then winced abruptly. He sighed and laid his head back. "I must admit, Zachary," he said softly, "I do appreciate your getting me down…"
Zee regarded Mr. Metos. His eyes had lost their sharpness, his skin was deathly pale, and his mouth was set with strain. Blood slowly seeped from his stomach.
"Here," Zee said, taking off his T-shirt. "Use this." He placed the shirt against Mr. Metos's stomach, and Mr. Metos nodded and pressed his hand lightly against the shirt. "Mr. Metos, what happened?"
Mr. Metos closed his eyes. "They knew I was coming. The Footmen were waiting for me. Charon must have told them. I was a fool." He shook his head and broke off in a fit of some very nasty-sounding coughing.
"Oh…"
"I thought I could just sneak down here and free the shadows. This is all my fault." He blinked and stared at Zee intently. "Zachary, you have to go. You have to go now. They're already in the City" He smiled grimly. "I'm afraid I had quite a good view"
"What do I do?"
"You enchanted these shadows, Zachary." He motioned around him. "You know what to do."
Zee nodded. He did know what to do. He had known all along.
"Zachary," he continued, "when you get to the Styx, there's a bridge. The shadows built it, I saw them. Just cross it." Zee looked at him questioningly. "Don't worry about Charon, you'll find him lying unconscious in his boat with a nice lump on his head." He closed his eyes and took in a labored breath, then looked at Zee again. "And then head straight for the City, as fast as you can. You'll know where to go… Charlotte certainly did."
Zee stopped. "Charlotte?"
"Zachary," he said, and coughed again, "you'll learn that there are some people in the world you can't make deals with. A Footman tried to drown her, but she turned the tables on him." Mr. Metos allowed himself another grim smile. "That's a tough cousin you have. She made her way all the way to the City, and that's the last I saw of her. Now, go. Go as fast as you can. It may already be too late."
Zee nodded. He regarded Mew, who stared at him earnestly, her bound leg dangling in the air. "You stay with Mr. Metos, okay?" She narrowed her eyes and glared at him. He leaned over and scratched her on the head, and she mewed softly. "You can come save me if I get into trouble." He turned to the shadows and motioned to the injured pair. "Protect them. If I don't come back"-he gulped-"take them to the Upperworld. Listen to Mr. Metos, he will tell you what to do. Follow his orders as if they were mine."
Mr. Metos nodded. Zee nodded back, and with a last glance at the bleeding man, the injured cat, and the lurking shadows, Zee made his way to the Styx.
CHAPTER 25
YES, CHARLOTTE DID HEAR SOMETHING. VERY definitely. Some sort of rumbling thing, some sort of stomping thing, some sort of banging and thumping thing. Something was coming.
The shadows were coming. The shadows were coming, and they were coming loudly and they were coming soon. In the throne room the two gods and the girl froze, listening to the approach of their doom.
So this is what it sounds like: Gentle at first, a thunderstorm off in the distance. It grows louder, and louder still; the sound begins to overtake the pounding of your heart. There is fire, there is destruction, and there is this – this relentless approach. You are still, you are aware, and there is nothing you can do but wait.
Hades stood up and swept to one of the pairs of glass doors, and Thanatos quickly followed, with Charlotte-heart in throat- following right behind.
From the balcony one could look over the entire Kingdom. Charlotte could not help but think Hades did not do that very often. On a given day, standing on this balcony, he could see his bustling City; he could see his languishing Dead; he could see the great, smoking blackness of Tartarus; the steaming, snakelike form of the Styx, with Charon on his boat and the unending line of Dead waiting patiently in the rope lines to cross into his Kingdom.
Now, though, now Hades looked down upon a vast and unending column of dark marchers bursting into his City. The shadows were alive now; they were tall and dark and fierce, like creatures of night black flame moving inexorably through the Kingdom. And there were so many. They stretched on from the inside of the City through the plains back to the shore. The City's iron gates lay twisted and useless on the ground.
"Impossible," he said. "How did they get over the river?"
To Charlotte that didn't seem the best question to ask at that moment. However they had gotten over the river, well, they had gotten over the river, and the point was pretty much moot. The Dead throughout the Kingdom had flown away from the wide path of the marchers and were cowering in the distance, so clustered together that they looked like great masses of light.