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jflashandclash · 7 years

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Attrition of Peace

Thirty-Three: Joey

What a Nice Day to Kill for Love

Joey was having a lovely dream about punching Apollo in the face when she heard his voice singing in her ear. Most of her dreams involved elaborate dance numbers, but the musical twist was new. She didn’t even know the dead did dream.

When she willed herself to get up, her legs and arms felt heavy, like someone had dumped a Mrs. O’Leary on each limb.[1] In the distance, behind the lovely voice, she could hear a continuous chatter that made her shiver. If this was a musical, Joey would need to recommend a better chorus than wind-up teeth.

She tried to think of why Apollo would be here. She remembered tricking her way through the EZ line for deaths and skirted around a three-headed dog. Unless her death had been a nightmare… which was unlikely, since her brain would have thought of a way less lame death.

Someone’s hand—Apollo’s she presumed—graced her calf. The gesture felt distant. Regardless of the distance, what Charon had said about godly-demigod or mortal relationships still made her want to smack him over the head with a harp, and maybe a piano.

Joey went to kick him.

Nothing happened.

Her throat constricted with fear when her legs wouldn’t respond.

She tried to sit up.

Relief flooded her system when she could twist enough to hit Apollo with a good right hook.

She was never going to tease Euna for struggling to wake up again. That struggle was real.

The boy kneeling beside her clutched his face where she’d made contact. Something about it seemed… wrong.

From what she could see, that wasn’t Apollo. And, either this person was made out of marshmallows, or she’d gained ghostly super strength. Over the tips of his fingers, it looked like she’d struck him with a truck, not her fist.

What mostly stumped Joey was how she was able to touch him.

Joey fumbled in her pocket for the rosewood box, the only other thing she’d been able to touch and interact with since her death.

That blond hair, the tan, the Camp Half-Blood T-shirt, the medical fanny pack: only one person she knew could make such a grievous misstep in fashion with such casual confidence.

This was Will Solace. She remembered him from camp, a heartthrob that all the nymphs pouted over losing a few months ago to a certain grumpy Goth kid.

Although Will’s face was mutilated, she could see his dismay at getting walloped. A real expression. Not another ghost, creepily floating around, lost and empty, like they’d been the next ones in line for the cafeteria when the entire school kitchen got shut down for health code violations.

Joey lunged forward to hug him.

Will made a muffled sound of confusion when she shoved him away immediately after the hug.

Tears threatened her eyes. She tried to ignore how alone she’d felt and how scared she’d been and how relieved she was to see another living—er—another sentient ghost. Even if the interaction did start with ghost on ghost violence.

Instead of expressing any of that, she did the courteous thing: she folded her arms, huffed, and demanded, “Why are you touching my legs, you perve?”

By now, Will looked baffled. What was left of his pummeled brow furrowed in annoyance. “I’m dating Nico,” he stated and pointed at her feet.

When Joey glanced down, she had to refrain from reigniting her panic. The edges of her shoes were grey and crusty, completely coated in some kind of stone. When Joey tried to wiggle her toes, she realized they weren’t coated in stone. They were stone.

Will’s fingers tapped against her rolled up pant leg, where ghostly dust fluttered away. It hadn’t just been her toes before.

“I thought it would only happen to living demigods, but I guess it can happen to ghosts too. You’re not supposed to sleep down here,” he said. There was a slight frown on his lips, as he gazed past her, to the two-story bronze gates around Hades’ black obsidian palace.

Joey wanted to shout at him. If she didn’t nap, she was scared she’d collapse in front of Hades and Persephone in their courtroom. She’d been so tired, and she’d only meant to nap for a few minutes. Getting past the Fields of Asphodel… just remembering who she was and that she had a purpose… it was exhausting. Every step threatened to shake her of what made her… well… her.

“There isn’t exactly a how-to guide on traveling through the Underworld,” Joey snapped. “But—uh, thanks for fixing my legs, I guess.”

Will sighed and fumbled in his fanny pack. He withdrew a trifolded sheet of paper and handed it to her.

Last time someone handed her one of these, it was Thalia Grace suggesting all boys’ coodies were worth giving up for an eternity of hunting. Clearly, Thalia hadn’t been investigating the right boy’s coodies.

“What is this?” Joey asked, suspicious it was another sales pitch at why she should relinquish makeup and hair products forever.

“A how-to guide on traveling through the Underworld and the quickest routes to the McDonald’s pit stops,” Will explained, “Nico does a seminar on it.”

Although she didn’t want extra reading, Joey stuffed it into her pocket, beside her rosewood box. That could come in handy later, for the next time she tried to do an everyday activity that turned deadly. She’d be terrified to see what flushing a toilet would do in this place.

“So, does he give that seminar like, right after your First Aid class? I feel like that could make campers nervous about your faith in their survival chances,” she said.

“We try to have them on separate days,” he said, humming a healing song right after.

Joey could feel her toes start to wiggle. The sensation was surreal and almost painful after the numbness. Weird to think a ghost could feel pain, but she guessed they had to for the whole eternal punishment thing to work.

Everything was so bleak: the trampled black grass leading up to the fortress of a black palace, the black poplar trees, the massive swarms of souls. Pax and she needed to lead the Hermes cabin down here with an arsenal of paintball guns with neon ammo and shoot up the place. Maybe not Hades’ ideal way to redecorate, but it would be quick, effective, and fun. Hades’ direct antithesis.

Something had changed since Joey put her head down on the cold stone. A single shaft of sunlight glistened down from a crack in the stalactites, landing behind the gates of the palace. Joey thought she must have been hallucinating after the dreariness of everything else.

She refocused on Will and the way his skull caved inward around his hairline. Joey almost choked up while asking, “How did you die? Lose a fight to a bowling ball?”

Will paused. He mindlessly tugged up the side of his shirt, revealing a grotesque red rash and claw marks. With his other hand, Will touched the indent in his forehead. His eyes watered, and he shook his head.

“Cerebral edema and hemorrhaging, if I had to guess.”

Joey wanted to feel bad for him, but all she could say was, “Cereal edma?”

“I think… I think one of my half-brothers beat me to death with an electric bass,” he said, like that had anything to do with the previous sentence.

Will swallowed and caught Joey up on what had been happening upstairs while she was down here. On several occasions, Joey had to clarify, and assure him, that her sister and friends were not the bad guys. Though, she was proud to hear that her sister went on a murderous rampage on behalf of Joey’s death. She’d have been furious at her sister if Euna had frozen up and gotten herself killed.

By the time he was done explaining, Will had cracked away all of the stone but her pinky toe and Joey had full mobility of her feet—something necessary for any undead dance competitions she might enter. Those had to exist in Elysium for it to be paradise.

“I can’t get this last part,” he said apologetically as he stumbled to his feet.

Joey took his hand to stand up. They walked towards the two-story bronze gates with ghastly etchings of death scenes. Two undead soldiers flanked either side. One wore a bloodied, old school military jacket, with golden tassels, medals, and a white ascot. The other wore some Middle Eastern headdress and—

Joey made a face. His hand was burned away to the bone.

“So,” Joey summarized Will’s story, unsure if the guards would try to stop them, “One guy in pink pajamas took out all three of you?”

“Four of us,” Will said, taking no heed of her tease. “Pax tried to stop him, I think. I just hope Annabeth and Piper are okay, though I could have easily missed them. They could already be in Elysium by now.”

From what Joey had heard, Annabeth was one of the best. Joey would have loved to have trained under her. The idea of someone being able to take out those three made Joey tense. She hoped Pax and the others were okay, too.

“So, how did you get to the front gates so fast?” Joey asked. Although she hadn’t followed Will’s timeline well, he must have died weeks after her. She wasn’t sure how time passed for the dead.

“Everyone knows who—” Will started to say until the blue uniformed man hailed him.

“Guillaume, it is good to see you,” he greeted with a thick accent that Joey assumed was from some weird region of France. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

“We have been waiting for you,” his companion corrected, sighing and twirling a stiletto in his non-burned hand. He also had a thick accent, but one Joey couldn’t place.

“Hello Kléber. Al-Halabi,” Will nodded politely to each of them. “I thought you two weren’t supposed to be working door duty together anymore?”

The Frenchman turned up his nose and inhaled sharply.

The Middle Eastern man scowled off to the side.

“All the bureaucratic red tape,” Kléber said, waving his hand back and forth in front of his nose like he could beat the smell away. “This is why government directories are worthless. If you had a better system set up, Nico could have overturned Midas’s orders by now, and I wouldn’t be with this murderer—je dis ça, je dis rien.”[2]

Al-Halabi scoffed. “Eid wahda matsa’afsh,” he said.[3] Although Joey didn’t understand his words, she could recognize the sarcasm. “I’m not even in the right afterlife because of your conquest and your influences, damoteel.”

While old feuds were great and all, this was wasting time. Joey cleared her throat.

Kléber glanced at her, and bowed. “I apologize, Mademoiselle. Your sister is waiting for you. If it pleases you, Crevette, escort the young lady this way.”

Joey felt weird taking Will’s arm, but the look he shot her said it would save them a lot of time if she complied. It felt nice having Kléber recognized her presence. Since the Fields of Asphodel, she’d been scared of fading away.

As Kléber and Al-Halabi escorted them through the gates, Al-Halabi asked, “Have you heard anything topside about the angry spirits?”

“Angry spirits?” Joey asked.

Al-Halabi nodded and twirled his stiletto again. “Someone opened a bridge between the Underworld and topside. Hades permits a few ghosts to haunt the Upperworld every night, but nothing like this. Khawaaja Kléber thinks someone is amassing an army and it’s connected to—”

The ground trembled. Joey clutched Will’s arm and he grabbed her arm back.

“What was that?!” Will demanded.

Kléber glanced back and made a grim face. “Rumor has it: Nyx. Something has upset her. My instinct tells me that’s no coincidence with the ghost army.”

Al-Halabi sighed. “As much as Kléber is a corruptor and tyrant, he is also an exquisite general. He had similar inklings about events leading up to the Second Titan War—wait here.”

Al-Halabi and Kléber motioned for them to stop, then continued forward into a blinding light.

Once her eyes adjusted, Joey could see a lovely garden. Each flower bed was surrounded by dazzling gems: sapphires, rubies, emeralds, and diamonds. The flowers themselves gleamed silver. Trees loomed above the gardens, with orange and red fruit and flowers glittering in their branches.

The sole ray of sunshine from the ceiling beamed into the garden like a glaring spotlight. Combined with the sparkling gems, Joey felt like someone had shoved a kaleidoscope in front of a lighthouse beam and told her to stare at it.

Al-Halabi and Kléber had disappeared.

Will let go of Joey’s arm. “About how I got here so fast. Everyone knows me here. I’m Nico’s boyfriend. Or was.” He sighed and glanced upwards towards the light’s source longingly. Joey had to wonder how much hell a cavern like this was for a child of Apollo. “He’s not going to handle this well. After his mother, and Bianca… I’m so worried about him. No one else is going to know where to buy him Mythomagic Band-Aids or Walnetto’s candy, or force him to have a balanced diet…”[4]

Joey thought about Euna, and how hopeless her older sister would be on her own. None of the others would be harsh enough on her for training or grades. They’d let her laze to mediocrity.

“I’ve been down here for a few family dinners,” Will said, aimlessly. His blue gaze looked through the gardens. “They were… you can’t eat or drink anything down here. Do you know how hard it is not to offend someone’s parents when you can’t—”

Joey grabbed Will’s arm and dragged him towards the garden. “Wha—” he started.

Hearing him talk about family dinners made Joey remember her father’s homemade soondubu-jjigae that she’d never have again.

“We’re here to talk to Hades and Persephone, not to talk about your and Nico’s creepy bring-your-son-and-his-boyfriend-to-work-day,” she said, biting back tears, “I’m not waiting for those jerks to escort us. I mean, you only live once, right?”

“That’s really tasteless to say down here—” Will said, but was cut off when they almost ran into a massive black form.

Joey skirted to a halt. She almost screamed. There was a dark shade of robes standing behind one of the poplars, just ahead of them. She’d mistaken him for a shadow. Where his hand touched, the tree’s bark screamed in pain. His robes warped and gnarled with faces howling in agony. He was tall and wiry, reminding Joey of a rotting twisted oak. The aura around him vibrated with power and his stature reflected it.

The way the pale man peered around the tree trunk confused Joey. She’d be horrified to see what this man was hiding from.

Following his line of sight made her jaw drop.

There was a young woman toiling in a garden bed. The sunlight glimmered off her billowing blonde hair and warmed her pale skin. Her apron had a flickering floral design—no—it was made out of various flowers that Joey quickly identified as blooming during the wrong time of year: daffodils, tulips, azaleas, magnolias, and hyacinths. All colorful springtime flowers.

She had the satisfied grin of someone knowing their labor would pay off—a smile Joey’s father also got while doing yard work.

“She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” the man asked, his oily, powerful voice an ill match for the adoring tone.

“How are you doing that?” Will asked in awe, staring up at the sunlight.

“Poseidon wanted to say his last farewell to a lovely surfer that died young. So, in exchange, I asked him for some sunlight. He caused a massive earthquake…” The man raised one hand out of the shadows, into the sun rays.

Will frowned. “You… you’re probably killing hundreds of people to give her that sunlight.”

The man quarter turned towards them, a smirk coming to his lips. His eyes blazed black with the fury of a wildfire. “137 in counting,” he answered.

Will swallowed. Joey dug her nails into his arm, hoping he’d realize getting righteous around this guy was probably as useful as reminding Hitler that Jews were people too.

“Wouldn’t you do the same for Nico? Or did I misjudge you as worthy of my son?” Hades asked, that dark gaze boring directly into them.

Will’s arm shook violently under Joey’s grip—or was that her hand shaking?

“I think it’s romantic,” Joey squeaked. She cleared her throat and said more firmly, “We both do.”

“Thank you,” Hades said, his continence warping back into a grin. Joey relaxed. She did not want to end up in this guy’s robes—either metaphorically or literally. He continued, “Normally, I would ask a living demigod to do this, but we’re short staffed right now. I hate dealing with the Romans, and most of the Greeks are already among the sleep.”

Joey blinked, glancing over to Will to see if this meant anything. In an uncomfortable moment, she realized she hadn’t asked Will why he wanted an audience with Hades. Requesting resurrection didn’t seem like it would be the Sun Boy’s motive.

Will’s expression remained neutral, though he disentangled their arms to stand taller.

“Among the sleep?” she asked.

Hades ignored her and continued, “Will, you can bring Nico back from the shadows and stop Melinoe. Being a son of Apollo, you’re most likely to succeed with the job, and in exchange, we can talk about giving you back your li—”

“Hades, are you being rude to my sister?”

The woman had come over from the garden. In the sunlight, her face was soft and kind. Her grin was playful. She touched Joey’s arm and Joey could feel the warmth of an April breeze.

Joey found herself smiling back and doing a quick curtsy—something she’d never done before and felt super stupid about afterwards.

“I’m working,” Hades said, his shoulders slumping.

When Persephone glanced past them at the obsidian palace, her face fell and her gaze hardened. “It looks more like you’re showing deference to your bastard child’s boyfriend. What did you put Orpheus through when he tried to lead someone back from shadow?”

“Pers…” Hades said in a voice that sounded too close to begging for a god.

Persephone held her hand up. She gave Joey another smile, though this one was chilled. “Joey, I’m sorry I can’t give you a proper welcoming right now. Let me finish with this, and we can have a pleasant talk.”

Persephone turned back to Will, her eyes fiercer than any warrior’s. Hades frowned and Will took a step back.

“When you try to save Nico, you need to have faith that your love will be enough to bring him back and defeat his despair. You can’t talk to him. You can’t acknowledge him. If you fail at ignoring him, you’ve damned both of you,” she said icily. Her eyes shot to Hades. “That is close to the deal you gave that charming poet.”

Will glanced at Hades.

Hades shrugs helplessly.

“That’s cold,” Joey said.

The ghost of a smile returned to Persephone’s face. She took Joey’s arm and led her towards the garden. “Now, we can talk about your entry to Elysium—”

Joey resisted the movement, wondering if Persephone would still the world into an eternal winter when she was upset.

“That’s not why I’m here—” Joey said, withdrawing the rosewood box from her pocket. She’d almost forgotten. Had that been why she was here? She remembered Will’s comment about Nico, and about how worried she’d been for her sister. Could she just ignore them? The others? Wouldn’t they eventually die anyway? Just thinking it scared her.

Persephone frowned at the box. “Sister, if you stay, I can grant automatic entry to Elysium.”

Hades groaned behind them, like he and Persephone had argued over this before.

“You’ve already died a heroic death,” Persephone said sternly and Joey could tell that comment wasn’t directed at her. “But that box is a mark of struggle. Are you sure you want to keep holding it?”

This box was the only thing reminding Joey of her past life. She dug her nails into its golden filament. If there was anything else she could do for her sister and friends, she was going to do it. Returning this box was one of Psyche’s quests, after all, wasn’t it?

“Yes,” Joey said, lifting her chin. “Hera gave me this box. She wanted me to ask you for the essence of a happy marriage.”

For a moment, Persephone looked stunned. Then she burst into laughter, Hades’ booming laughter echoing after.

The latter sound was horrifying and something Joey assumed was a special punishment for the particularly wicked.

Persephone wiped a tear from her eye, calming herself down. She snapped her fingers. A lovely undead handmaiden rushed over to bring Persephone a rose pen and flowery paper.

After writing a quick note, she took the box from Joey and opened it.

Everything slowed.

The flowers trembled.

Hades’ robe fluttered in Joey’s peripheral vision, towards the open box.

A motionless vacuum sucked the noise from around them, leaving the Underworld—despite its sunlight—even drearier.

Then Persephone placed the folded note into the box and shut the lid. Everything went back to normal.

Joey could hear Will give a sigh of relief behind her.

Persephone returned the box to Joey. Nothing felt different about it, though she supposed nothing would with a single piece of paper.

“Don’t let her open that around you,” Persephone said. “Tell her this is the key to her happiness. Give it to her without saying what is inside.”

“What’s in it?” Joey asked, glancing down at the flowers. Something about them felt ominous.

“A divorce lawyer’s number,” Persephone explained, “Staying with a hopeless cheater like that is anachronism at its worst. She needs to get with the times.”

Her eyes flicked past Joey and that warmth returned. She must have been looking at Hades. Feeling grossed out, Joey could tell Persephone actually liked Hades. Yuck.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Persephone asked again.

Joey nodded her head. She’d never been more certain. She turned back towards Will and Hades, who gazed at her evenly.

Hades narrowed his gaze. “Are you working with the one who called my helmet stupid?”

That absolutely sounded like something Pax would do. Barely containing a laugh, Joey asked, “How could someone say your helmet looks stupid? Doesn’t it turn you like, invisible or something?” She was pretty sure she’d heard Merry talk about that once.

“Exactly!” Hades cried triumphantly.

Joey trembled and was pretty sure the rest of the Underworld did too, though she couldn’t tell if it was because of Poseidon above, Nyx below, or from how terrifying Hades’ victorious attitude was.

Hades snapped his fingers and Al-Halabi and Kléber materialized on either side of Will and Joey. “It is time for you to leave,” Hades said, “Remember that, outside, ghosts aren’t as powerful during the day, so, it will be easier to work at night. I don’t normally let spirits escape, but… these two have been spreading rumors about holes where souls can slip away…”

He made a shooing motion with his hand, quarter turning towards Persephone’s little patch of sunshine.

Persephone waved her hand warmly at Joey before shooting an icy look at Will.

Will was already going to take Joey’s arm, the same way he’d escorted her in, when she paused. “Wait—Lord Hades.”

“Yes?” the intensity of his voice revealed his impatience. Those eyes flashed again.

Joey shouldn’t ask. Not just because of Hades’ impatience but because she wasn’t sure she wanted to know. “In… in the Fields of Asphodel, people forget who they are and mindlessly wander. Everything those spirits have done is so unimportant to them, they forget their own accomplishments. At least the people in the Fields of Punishment know who they are and that their deeds left a mark on the world. Which one do you think is really worse?”

A queer smile curled onto Hades’ lips. “Joey Song, you’re never coming back to my domain again. So I would not worry over such nuances as to whether it is worse to be forgotten and forget or worse to be in pain.”

Joey paused. Never coming back. She thought that sounded like a sweet deal—the Underworld sucked and Kléber was right about everything taking forever, like waiting in those stupid lines for an EZ pass. Why even make an EZ pass lane when the traffic in it could still get so congested.

A deeper instinct in her shivered at the thought, wondering what that could mean.

“Now go. You try my patience. Will is running out of time to save my son, and you need to deliver Hera some peace of mind,” Hades said.

Joey nodded. They gave their farewells to the King and Queen of the Underworld and Will escorted Joey towards the exit with Al-Halabi and Kléber on either side of them.

As they approached the two-story gates, Joey asked, “Do any of you know what he was talking about? Never coming back?”

Kléber gave an airy chuckle. “It could mean becoming immortal. That is one way to never need return.”

Al-Halabi frowned and shook his head. He stared down at his stiletto, and Joey got the impression he knew there were other ways.

“I’m not getting any Apollo-style prophetic moments about it. Sorry, Joey,” Will said, giving her arm a brief, comforting squeeze.

Joey should have been ecstatic. They were going topside. Will might be able to save his boyfriend. She’d get to properly complete a quest and maybe see her sister again. But instead of rejoicing, she found herself asking, “Spirits can’t like… die permanently, right?”

Al-Halabi muttered a curse in Arabic, his glare switching to his burned hand. He changed the subject by saying, “We don’t know the location of all the routes out of here, but let’s pretend the rumors are true about multiple ones. Where would be the best spot that you know of to contact Hera?”

As they talked about the best reentry points, Joey became more afraid of leaving the Underworld than entering it.

Thanks for reading! Here’s a little break from the chaos in the Upperworld XD

Also, as a call out to you wonderful people--I’ve been getting a lot of really kind support recently from my constant readers. I really appreciate it! You guys are awesome and make this book series happen! :D <3

Footnotes:

[1] Apparently, this is going to be the accepted weight measurement system in my version of the world. Pax weighs a fortieth of an O’Leary.

[2] More or less, “just saying…”

[3] يد واحدة ماتسقفش. Equivalent of saying, “you need cooperation from all parties for something to work.” I’m not sure if this is a common idiom for Syrian Arabic or the timeframe, but eh—we can say he picked up stuff while he has been undead.

[4] Super popular candy from the early 1900’s.

#Traitors of Olympus #HOO #PJO #heroes of olypmus #Percy Jackson and the Olympians #fanfiction #writing #Joey #Will #Suleiman al-Halabi #Jean-Baptiste Kléber #Hades #Persephone #gsdi--I can never spell her name right T.T #True love!#..... creepy true love!

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