Chapter Twenty-One

"What did he mean by only the hybrid knows where the Orb is?" I asked as we mounted our usofios just outside the camp. Hannibal frowned as he picked up the reins, shifting the black stallion out toward the desert, his eyes searching the sandy hills. He got a faraway look on his face as if he were remembering something before he averted his eyes.

"Zetnos has a scrying orb in his main chamber. I had always thought it was just that; a scrying orb," he muttered. I frowned and Arikos nodded as if he understood.

"Then it makes sense why he was able to use it. He also climbed out of the Source, obviously not first along with Atlan and some of the others, but he's still fresh homegrown Source material," he explained. I grimaced at that and steered my usofios to trot alongside his as we made our way into the desert.

"But the only entrances to Xandria are on the Isle of Griffin and the main island. Why would St. John direct us to the east island?" I asked. Hannibal looked a bit perturbed when he answered.

"Shortly after Zetnos and Lea moved back to Atlantis, Zetnos showed me two other secret entrances to Xandria that only he and Lea know about. I wasn't supposed to show or tell anyone, but this is kind of an emergency... It's asking if we can take the Orb that's going to be difficult," he muttered. Arikos raised an eyebrow.

"How so? Zetnos adores you. I think he'd be willing to give it up no problem," he responded. Hannibal looked at him grimly, then averted his eyes again. I could tell there was something else he wanted to say, but wasn't sure if he should say it. He sighed, reaching up to adjust the hood further over his face to block it from the sun.

"The Orb is the only way Zetnos can watch Lea from the underworld. It's also got quite a sentimental value," he explained quietly. Menoetius snorted and Arikos looked surprised for a moment before he smiled fondly.

"Always knew there was something going on between those two. Sweet, so you're finally gonna get the dad you deserve, huh, Hanni? Good for you!"

"Stop calling me that and no," Hannibal said dryly, reaching for his water to take a drink before shoving it back into his saddle, "Zetnos hasn't really approached Lea lately and she's been kind of preoccupied. Right now isn't really the time for it. So I'm not sure how willing Zetnos would be to give up something that has that much value to him." Arikos sighed warily and slumped over on the back of his usofios's neck, making the creature whinny and purr in a manner similar to an overgrown cat.

I wondered briefly about why Zetnos hadn't confronted Lea. You'd think being trapped for several centuries would make Zetnos more confident on approaching her, but I also noticed Hannibal seemed to have an odd aversion to his mother as well. At first, it made sense.

Hannibal had spent his entire life believing his mother had abandoned him and cursed him, beginning a lifetime of cruelty and trust issues. However, upon recent discovery, it was revealed Lea had always wanted her child, always cherished him, but had to deal with Atlan's power hungry paranoia that led to his taking Hannibal away from his mother when he was, but a child. In the end, everything had been straightened out and it seemed like Hannibal and his mother were beginning to get closer. However, when Lea had returned to Atlantis, Xenon had mentioned to me that Lea had become more irritable and Hannibal more distant.

Something told me it may have something to do with Hannibal's past. But knowing Lea and her heart, she wouldn't stay angry with Hannibal. He was her only son, and according to Xenon, Lea loved him with every fiber of her being and would kill for him if it came down to it.

The question was, did Zetnos feel the same way for Hannibal? Would he be willing to surrender his only real connection with Lea? I almost felt sorry for him. Zetnos had always been a very shy and withdrawn god. He'd kept to himself and rarely left Xandria, unless there was a pantheon meeting. It was probably why he'd never come forward to Lea with his feelings. He'd been kicked and stomped on by the entire pantheon, especially Atlan. The moment Zetnos had come into being, Atlan had seen him as a threat to his seat on the throne, until Atlan discovered Hannibal.

Hannibal was the real threat to him. Hannibal was the only one powerful enough, the only one with destiny riding on his shoulders to do so. And once he defeated Atlan, I had no doubt that civil war would break out over who would be the king, and that decision had to be made very quickly before other pantheons saw Atlantis's weakness and pounced on it.

"So, where's this secret entrance?" I asked, changing the subject after the awkward silence in the air. Hannibal blinked, looked up, then scanned the desert before he reached into his pack. He dug out a scroll and laid it open across his lap to study it.

"This is the most recent map of the area. The entrance is inside an ancient tomb, a priest and chieftain of a desert ghoul tribe that used to worship Zetnos. Unfortunately, the place is rigged with a lot of booby-traps, so we have our work cut out of us," he explained, making Arikos groan out loud, and Hannibal continued, "According to this map, the tomb is about twenty kilometers into the desert and is marked by a symbol of the Zetnos Cult."

"And that would look like...?" Menoetius asked, waving his hand for Hannibal to elaborate. Hannibal gave him a droll stare.

"A stick with an intricate triangle knot on top," he responded. Menoetius rolled his eyes, but said nothing as we continued through the desert.

I was relieved Hannibal already knew where the Orb was, and prayed that Zetnos didn't make it difficult for us. The sooner we got the Orb, the sooner Atlan would pick up on us and come after us. It wasn't that I wanted to put the rest of the others in danger, but the fact that I needed Apollo back. I felt a strange twinge sense of panic in my chest, my heart pounding vigorously and my temples throbbing. It was the same sense of discord I had felt when I had been away at war while my siblings had been at home, killing and torturing Dexius.

I tried to tell myself that Apollo was okay, but I really couldn't convince myself. Not after what I'd seen Atlan capable of, his cruelty towards Kallisto, Hannibal, Arikos. The numbers of people he'd tortured, killed, destroyed. A lump formed in my throat as a cold cloud of dread wrapped itself around me, and I fought the urge to weep at what he could be doing to Apollo.

Even worse, was that horrible sensation of guilt gnawing at my conscious. Apollo never would've gone to his home and been trapped if I hadn't of been so harsh with him at the Olympian meeting, if I had just gone after him myself, maybe I could've stopped Atlan from hurting him, maybe I could've let Atlan take me instead of Apollo.

I was expendable. Apollo was not. If he were to die, it would be a dark eternity for Greece until a new god could be appointed, and who knew how long that could take? The mortals could be dead by then and soon their world would be suspicious of ours and it was best they stay separate.

If humans truly knew what lurked beneath the surface of a pond, or a pool of mud, or even a mirror, they would not handle it well. What little they knew of our world, the better.

"Anexius." I jumped in my saddle and looked up to see Arikos frowning at me.

"Don't do this to yourself," he said, making me grimace, "Focus on the task at hand. What did I say about those steps?" I shook my head, tightening my grip on my reins.

"Arikos, it's hard. We wouldn't even be in this mess if I hadn't been such a fool. I should've just killed the Atlanteans when I had the chance," I seethed. Arikos shook his head.

"If you had done that, you would've stolen Hannibal's destiny and who knows what would have happened then? The universe could implode or fall into chaos. The path of destiny and the thread of the Moirai has been chosen and set back on track. Nobody said it would be easy, but we have to do it." I knew he was right, but I was still infuriated that we had to be their toys, their little game pieces to a board we couldn't see from where we were. Only the Moirai and the Source could look down on us and watch.

"Anyway," Arikos continued loud enough for Menoetius and Hannibal to hear, "We can't use the Orb without the Key and Old Mister Earth Man didn't tell us what or who the key could be."

"I'm convinced it's Anexius," Hannibal replied, "He's Atlantean and we already know him." I gave him a droll stare.

"As well as you could. Even I don't know me that well. I think it's Menoetius," I responded. Hannibal's eye twitched, like he was not looking forward to that discussion, and it only got worse when Menoetius laughed out loud.

"Yeah, right. Keep your destiny bullshit off my nice clean clothes. I'm only here to die and nothing more. Sounds like a useless key if you ask me. Why not Arikos? We know why Atlan wants Xiphrus and Hannibal, but why Arikos? What makes you so damn special?" He asked, turning to Arikos, who shrugged and flashed him a smile.

"I make a mean baklava," he offered and Menoetius rolled his eyes. Hannibal just nodded.

"Akin said you did," he replied, and ignored Arikos's little fist pump of victory as he continued, "We won't know until we try to use the Orb, but we shouldn't try anything until we return to Olympus. From here on out, we need to be vigilant. Atlan is after the Orb as well, and he's technically not allowed to enter Xandria as the Source's power pulses through its walls. If he can't get in, he'll be waiting at one of the entrances to jump us once we have it."

"Won't he try to jump us before we go in, you know, just to get his greedy hands on you?" Menoetius asked flatly, but Hannibal shook his head.

"Atlan's good at planning. He'll want to grab all of us and the Orb, and we're the only ones that can get in and get out without much trouble," he explained, making me grimace.

"Are you forgetting the guardians of Xandria that chased us out the last time we went there?" I asked, and Hannibal shrugged.

"Zetnos should be back in Xandria by now." As if that made it any better. Would Zetnos react well to us asking for the Orb? He was never very violent, but still. Centuries locked inside the Source could've darkened his heart enough. Then again, with Hannibal at our sides, maybe we had a shot at this.

We lapsed into a comfortable silence as we rode through the desert. The usofios whinnied and hissed every so often, snapped up little critters trying to flee across the sand, so there was no need to feed them. If felt as if we'd traveled far more than twenty kilometers and the sun was already beginning to set before we spotted something glinting in the distance.

Hannibal led the head of our group, approaching what appeared to be a stake in the sand, a triangle knot work made of bronze on top of it. Hannibal dismounted and the rest of us followed as he approached the stake in the ground. He reached out and a strange sonic pulse echoed the air around us, making the sand jump and settle, then vibrate for a moment. The ground shuddered and groaned, the sound of stone scraping stone followed.

And the ground opened up beside the stake, revealing a stairway coated in a layer of sand that fell in front of the top that drew back.

"Grab some of the supplies," Hannibal informed as he went to his usofios, "The walk to Zetnos's chamber could take about a day or so from this point."

"Nothing like spending the night in a tomb," Menoetius said dryly. Hannibal gave him a flat stare.

"You said the same thing when we invaded Kallipso during the Titanomachy," he responded. Menoetius nodded as he swung his bag down from his usofios to pull over his back, casting the tomb a suspicious stare.

"Don't remind me. Kallipso was one of my least favorite cities to visit," he muttered and at my curious stare, Menoetius smirked bitterly, "Kallipso was a port city that worshipped Atlas's daughter. They were also known for having a labyrinth of tombs beneath the city and where there are tombs, there are ghosts and where there are ghosts, well..." His voice trailed and Arikos gave him a grin that made him glare. I had a feeling Arikos was preparing to taunt him about being afraid ghosts like he had during our last trek through Xandria, so to avoid Menoetius killing him, I cleared my throat and approached the entrance.

"We should probably get moving. The sooner we get this over with, the better."

And the sooner we could get Apollo back, I thought grimly as I reached up to finger the medallion around my neck. Arikos nodded and Hannibal took up the lead of our group, leading the descent into the tomb.

The staircase was narrow and dark, cobwebs dangling down like ghostly fingers, the sound of shoes scraping on the stone steps that led us deeper and deeper into the ground. At some point, it was so dark I couldn't see Hannibal's back right in front of me, but it lit up a second later when Hannibal conjured a ball of light in his palm, pale blue and cast eerie shadows across the walls.

Each step was careful and cautious, and any noise made Hannibal pause and listen, then continue to confirm it wasn't a danger. Eventually the steps led into a large open chamber where an intricately designed door sat across from the stair entrance, pictographs etched into the limestone exterior and ancient Atlantean writings warned everyone away from the Tomb of Sharaius, High Priest of the Cult of Zetnos.

"I hope this doesn't end up like that movie," Arikos said grimly as he approached the door frame to run his fingers over a pictograph that looked similar to a dragon breathing fire, "You know, that one with Brendan Fraser and the dead guys that come to life if you read their shit out loud." Hannibal gave him a deadpan stare.

"You are not allowed to watch movies with Akin anymore."

"Aw, come on. How did you know I watched that with Akin anyway?"

"He really likes Brendan Fraser," Hannibal replied absently now as he held the ball up toward the door. The door had no handle, no pictures or carvings. The only indication it was even a door was the fact that it had crevices along the edges, as if it were supposed to swing out, but even when Hannibal pushed on it, it didn't budge.

"Maybe there's a hidden mechanism around here," I suggested, moving to touch one of the pictographs, but it didn't move. Hannibal went along the wall outside the door, pushing each pictograph and block in the wall in hopes of triggering something. Arikos joined the search and Menoetius just frowned at the door curiously.

"Are you going to help or are you just going to kick it in?" I asked, irritated that he was leaving us to do all the work. Menoetius scowled.

"No, it's just... Never mind. Maybe there's a password we're supposed to use," he offered. Arikos raised an eyebrow, then stepped back to scan the writings.

"He's right, it could be hidden in the story on the wall," he offered. Hannibal stepped back to study the inscriptions. I went to one side of the wall where the story began.

"In Atlantis's infancy," I read aloud, "Born of the marrow of the Abyss, the god Zetnos came into being. Tall and proud and a silent power, he used the power gifted by the Abyss to carve the deep catacombs of the underworld he named Xandria, the darkness which birthed him. He named the bodies of Xandria after the materials used to make the soul; Trikos after the blood of the kind, Amunka after the bones of the mighty, and Mialosk after the tears shed from the sinners."

"Zetnos had some weird followers," Arikos concluded, then sighed, "Isn't there anywhere that says this is how you open this here door?" I gave him a doubtful stare and Menoetius frowned.

"Hannibal did say it was going to be harder than just saying open sesame," I reminded. Arikos sighed warily and studied the walls some more and Hannibal seemed to be reading to himself. I glanced back at Menoetius, who was staring at the door.

"I don't think the ghosts will bother us," I told him, assuming that was why he wasn't assisting. Menoetius rolled his eyes.

"It's not the ghosts," he replied dryly, "I just wish this stupid thing would open." A second later, a click echoed through the room and everyone took a huge step away from the door as it creaked and steadily opened outwards on its open, revealing a dark narrow tunnel with bronze tubes leading along the walls that connected to little wells of oil that automatically lit the moment the door came to a full stop.

I turned to stare at Menoetius, who looked at Hannibal.

"Good job, hybrid. You finally did something right," he said. Hannibal glared at him.

"I wasn't anywhere near the door or the wall when that opened. What did you do?" He demanded. Menoetius snorted as he approached the door.

"I didn't touch anything. Maybe one of us used the secret password or something. Either way the stupid thing is open, so let's go in before it decides to close on us again," he replied, heading for the tunnel. Arikos shrugged and followed while Hannibal and I took up the rear of the group now.

"What did he say?" Hannibal asked me. I frowned.

"I'm not sure. It didn't sound like a secret password. He just said he wanted the door to open," I replied. Hannibal frowned. Apparently he didn't like the sound of that answer, but I honestly didn't care what happened to get that door open as long as it was open. A frustrated swell of impatience was building up inside me and we didn't have time for this priest's useless labyrinth of a tomb.

We walked through the narrow tunnel until it opened up into a trio of tunnels, and Arikos made a noise of frustration.

"Now what?" He asked, turning to Hannibal and I. I started to suggest we split up when Menoetius suddenly went for the third tunnel.

"Where are you going?" I asked. Menoetius raised an eyebrow and gestured to the tunnel.

"Down the creepy tunnel that doesn't smell like a swear main or an ass," he said and at our curious stares, he scowled, "What? Those two other tunnels smell like shit. This is the only one that smells like incense. It'd make sense to follow the one that smells like it's seen a ritual for the dead as opposed to one that smells like he probably stuffed corpses into them. If he's such a great priest, he'd have a nice smelling shithole to sleep in for eternity, right?"

"I... suppose that's true," I admitted, though, confused. Who could have possibly deduced that just from the smell? I looked at Arikos, who flashed me a quick smile, almost like he knew something before he followed Menoetius down the tunnel. Hannibal looked extremely suspicious, but didn't say anything as we followed them down the tunnel.

Sure enough, the scent of incense was stronger the further we walked. The walls began to change at some point, from crude limestone carvings to painted walls, swirled with gorgeous geometric designs.

However, Menoetius suddenly stopped and Arikos smacked into him. I scowled.

"What are you doing?" I asked. Menoetius didn't answer and looked up at the ceiling curiously. Arikos and I followed his stare until we saw little sharp points sticking out of the ceiling that we wouldn't have noticed unless we looked close enough. We dropped our eyes to the floor where the faint outline of a pressure plate could be seen beneath a generous layer of sand.

"How did you see that?" Hannibal asked. Menoetius scoffed.

"Because I actually learned things in my training when we were kids, instead of sitting around high out of my mind," he said snidely. Hannibal glared at him, but said nothing. Menoetius moved around the plate and we followed, though, not for long because Menoetius stopped again and pointed to the drawings on the wall that swirled inward like one of those illusion pictures, and in the center was an open pocket where a serrated spear sat in wait with yet another pressure plate hiding under the sand.

The further we went, the more booby-traps Menoetius spotted and the more annoyed Hannibal was. To be honest, I was a little suspicious myself.

Menoetius was Greek, and had never been to Atlantis aside from our trip to Xandria the first time. How could he possibly know where all these traps were? Which tunnel to go down? How do open the door? It was almost as if he'd been here while it was built, but that was impossible. This was built back when Atlantis was still young, back when none of us had been born, except maybe Arikos, but even still.

Was this the Moirai trying to convince Hannibal that I was right, that Menoetius was the one who was the Key?

After a couple of hours of walking, Arikos yawned out loud.

"It's got to be at least one in the morning by now. We should make camp," he suggested tiredly, rubbing at his eye with his knuckles. Hannibal seemed hesitant to agree, but he glanced around at us and seemed to realize Arikos was right. We'd been traveling all day and the least we could do was rest for a few hours.

We waited until we reached the next chamber before we spread out. This chamber seemed pretty safe after Menoetius did a sweep of the place and we set up our pallets and blankets to rest. I sat on mine and pulled a plum out of my bag as Arikos came over and plopped next to me.

"I think Hannibal's getting tense," he said quietly while Hannibal set up his pallet and looked through his scrolls, "Do you know why Menoetius knows his way through here?" I frowned, taking a bite of food before shaking my head.

"Not exactly. But I'm wondering if it has anything to do with the fact that Menoetius could be the Key that everyone keeps talking about," I explained. Arikos frowned.

"But how? He's Greek. The only connection we have is the fact that we've been at war for centuries," he responded. I shrugged.

"I don't know, Arikos. The Moirai, and the Source, work in strange ways." Arikos nodded in agreement, but his eyes were following Menoetius until the Greek stooped over to rummage through his bag and Arikos smirked. I shook my head and continued eating as Arikos got up and went to his pallet to settle down for the night.

Once everyone was down and ready to sleep, I found myself unable to join them. I was wide awake and terrified. It wasn't the fact that we were sleeping in someone's tomb, not really. It was the fact that it'd already been a whole day since Atlan and kidnapped Apollo and already, the worst scenarios were running through my head. Cold chills erupted across my skin when I had seen what Atlan had done to Hannibal, and Arikos.

I loved my cousin, and my brother, dearly, but even I had to admit that their clash with Atlan had ruined them. While they had made considerably great progress since they escaped him, there were still moments when I saw what his torture had done to them. The way Hannibal flinched if someone came too close, or when Arikos would drop his eyes to the floor in submission. That long lasting fear that their happiness could be stolen and they wanted to be prepared when it was...

Apollo was already bitter after what happened with Hyacinth. He was already afraid to come out and tell me how he truly felt about me. He was insanely overprotective and possessive because he knew something or someone would take someone he loved away from him. At the same time, he could be cold and distant, as if he were too afraid to get close to someone.

If Atlan tortured him... What would be the long-lasting effects of that? What was going to happen to Apollo?

Could I even help him? Hades told me he wanted me to live on Olympus, but what if he changed his mind? What if he took me away before I could help Apollo? I didn't want to just rescue him and abandon him. It would make what Dexius said about me true.

You're so fucking selfish!

No! I wanted to save Apollo because... because Apollo was the best thing that happened to me since Dexius. He was Apollo. He was feisty and rude and possessive and honestly quite selfish himself. He could be cold and ruthless.

But he was also fragile and sweet and delicate and I never thought I'd want to have him back in my arms so badly.

I may have failed to save Dexius, but I will damned if I fail to save Apollo.