The Ambassador of Athena

The station looked exactly like the one I boarded the train at, except that you could see the gates of the Palace of Hades through the windows.
It looked impressive: Made from blackened bones and stygian iron, high as a church tower and radiating terror. I activated my bow, you know, just in case. A big white sign next to the gates read in blood-red letters:
“If gate is closed, ring doorbell.”
Below it an arrow pointed at a simple brass doorbell.
I did the obvious and pushed the button. I expected a deep moan from the depths of hell or chain rustling, but not a simple, casual “Ding-Dong”.
The gates didn’t open, but three statues that looked like stone a second ago unfolded their wings and flew down to me. This must be the furies, Hades loyal winged servants. They landed in front of me and looked at me strangely.
“What do you want?” the one in the middle snarled.
“I wish to see your Master, Lord Hades. I am a hero from ancient blood and have a request.”
I hoped that the Furies haven’t forgotten the old rites and traditions my whole adventure was based on.
They seemed a bit surprised, but they bowed and said their part of the rite unisono.
“If you are a hero, prove yourself worth the encounter with the Master.”
Now here comes the tricky part. To see Hades I had to fight whichever monster the Furies decided to throw at me. Herakles had to fight the spirit of the Nemean Lion, Theseus and Peirithoos had to fight the Hydra, so I probably had to fight a Drakon or whatever.
I pulled an arrow from the quiver and prepared to fight something that would probably kill me.
The Fury in the middle whistled and from a hidden door in the wall next to the door came…
A hellhound. I expected something big and dangerous, but not a hellhound. I mean, they are dangerous, ok, but this one was only half the size of Mrs. O’Leary, Percy’s pet monster.
I almost felt bad when I shot the arrow with the suspicious red glowing tip at him that exploded at impact. All that was left from him was his collar and a pile of gold dust.
The furies picked up the collar and bowed again.
“Very well, we will get our Master.”

It took them only a few minutes to return, and when they did they landed behind me.
“Our Master will arrive soon, prepare yourself.” They snarled and laughed an evil laugh.
Before I could worry the gates started to open. Again my hopes for creaking angles and moans of tortured souls were disappointed. The hinges were well-oiled and swung open without a sound.
Hades looked really impressive when he walked out of the palace. He wore his cloak woven from really pitiful souls, his invisible-making helmet sat on top of his head and his black armour gleamed in the light of the torches fixed on the wall. Behind him walked Persephone, his beautiful wife.
“So, you are the demigod that obviously knows the old traditions and ‘summoned’ me here.”
He snarled before I even had the chance to bow or introduce myself. So I guessed I didn’t had to, so I just said:
“Actually I am not a demigod; I am a regular mortal that just knows how to behave.”
Maybe that was too sassy, but if the god was rude I would definitely not start to be nice.
Hades seemed to absorb the light around him, but Persephone laid a hand on his arm.
“Calm down my dear.” she said in a calm voice “You should follow the ancient law just as he did.”
Hades sighed and mumbled: “Ok, you are right.”
He straightened his back and suddenly had a spear in his hand. He cleared his throat and said the ancient phrase:
“I am the Lord of the Dead, the Wealthy, the Ruler of the Underworld. I am Hades. What is your request to whom who knows everything concerning the dead?”
Now I bowed, smiling faintly and answering the question:
“I am honoured to be greeted by you, Lord Hades. My request is not a humble one: I have to ask you about what you guard with your entire wrath, a soul that has passed into your domains.”
Hades and Persephone just stared at me; all I could do was to wait for a reaction. It was not exactly what I expected.
Hades burst out laughing: a deep, loud laugh.
“Oh, you mortals are funny.” He stopped laughing and looked at me, dead serious,
“Someone who knows the old ways also knows under which conditions I would give you a soul. So, do you have a soul in exchange for me?”
I shook my head and slowly moved my hand towards the quiver dangling from my belt.
“So you are such a great singer that I will burst out in tears and hand you the soul as a present?”
I shook my head again, closing my hand around the shaft of an arrow. I knew the quiver would give me exactly the arrow I would need.
“So what makes you think that I will give you the soul for free?”
“He is just a mortal.” Persephone said “He isn’t even supposed to be here.”
Hades looked at her, and this was the distraction I needed:
I pulled the string of my bow, aimed and shot the arrow at Hades.

Shooting an arrow at the god of the underworld – bad idea. But it was all I got. The ancient law said that the lord of the dead has to give you what you want if you can hurt him. The only one before me who did it was Herakles, and he was the greatest Hero of all times.
Hades saw the arrow from the corners of his eyes, but he had no chance dodging it.
Just when he started to shrink to get out of the way the arrow hit him in the shoulder.
And hell broke loose.
Literally

Notes