I STRAP A GREEK FALCATA over my shoulder. Tucking in various daggers of carbon steel and shotguns in the folds of my cargo pants, I zip my jacket up. As I pulled my hair into a bun, I saw Katrina rushing about, helping everyone stock themselves fully.

Macaria had summoned our horses, along with four new ones, just a few hours ago. Orphnaeus had trotted over to me as soon as he had arrived in a tornado of black mist. It freaked me out how Macaria had closed her eyes and waved her hands in a clawed movement to bring our horses back.

Nycteus had not seemed happy and had simply grunted in my direction as if to say, Oh, hi. It's you, again. Cool, bye, leave me alone. It was definitely one of the weirdest conversations I had had with a horse, of all living creatures.

Lorrenia pats me on my back, turning me around to face her. "Weapons, food supplies, bandages, healing crystals?" She rattles off and I nod at all of them absentmindedly.

She smiles at me approvingly before moving to check on Matthew. Surprisingly, Darsh is already waiting for all of us outside. He had been packing a little everyday to avoid the rush an hour before we were supposed to depart.

"I'll be outside with Darsh!" I call out, everyone except Macaria, throwing me a thumbs up.

Telling myself not to dwell on it, I walk out of our little sanctuary. Darsh is sitting on a rock by one of the horses. His face contorts into concentration, pulling at the grass tendrils slowly. As soon as he sees me approach, he lets go and taps the empty space next to him.

"Have a seat, mi amor," he mock curtsies.

I had been trying to take my mind off of the quest we were headed on all morning. What better way than to pretend everything was okay and play along. So, I do just that.

"Why, thank you," I say with as much grace I can muster.

"No mi amor for me?" He teases, making me smile.

"Get me golden brownies and I'll think about it," I wink back at him, settling down on the soft grass.

The first rays of the new day are slowly creeping over the hills in the distant, casting a golden back glow. The place looks ethereal from where I stand; I breathe in the scent of a peaceful morning, wondering when I'll have another chance at something just like this.

"I am scared," Darsh mutter ever so quietly. I would have definitely missed it all if our surroundings hadn't been so silent.

I rub his back, just like I used to do for Charles. When he was five, he had this habit of rushing into my room and crawling under the sheets next to me. He used to look up with baleful black eyes, his dimples folding in on themselves.

"Thea," his voice soft and trembling, "I am scared."

And I used to wrap my arms around his tiny frame, snuggling him close to me. He would sigh and curl up into a tiny ball of baby powder and fall asleep while holding me tight.

"It's okay, we're all scared," I say, channeling all my faith and hope into my words. "At least we're all in this together. We'll have each other's backs."

Darsh wipes a tear off of his cheek. "I know. I know we will but I can't help but think of those lines. . ."

He does not have to continue. The unfinished words hang between us, churning fear and doubt in our minds. The Flawed Pathway was not a very encouraging prophecy. It ended with vague predictions none of us wanted to think about.

"My father once told me," Darsh's voice quivers, "the people we love, are often the people we end up hurting. I don't want to hurt any of you."

"You won't. You cannot ask yourself to be perfect, Darsh. We're all flawed, quite literally. It's the one thing that makes us human." I touch my shoulder lightly to his. "And all of us love you for it."

A grateful smile makes its way across Darsh's face and I see how truly beautiful he is. "Has anyone ever told you terribly cheesy you are?"

I grin at him. "Not enough times."

Darsh looks away from me, but I can sense that he is calmer than he was before. It makes me glad, seeing him relax into his original composure. The hard times in life make you realise just how precious someone's company is, and I am just beginning to appreciate it.

Lorrenia steps out of the cave first, her braids pinned behind, morphing into one. Her dusky complexion glows in the newborn light and her eyes shine, despite the risk she knows she is taking.

"You guys ready?" She calls. I nod and step up, Darsh right by my side.

Matthew, Macaria, and Katrina follow her out in a few seconds, all of them dressed completely in black - tshirts, jackets, cargo pants, and combat boots. They sport Hoplite swords slung over their backs with tons of shotguns and detonators bulging in their pockets.

They look like an elite team of assassins, until Matthew trips over and falls face first into the grass.

Laughter goes up from the team and I catch myself smiling, too. Macaria lends him a hand, he takes it, and gets up quickly. Before I can ask him if he's okay, he covers his nose and raises a hand.

"Not a word."

I bite back the laughter bubbling in my throat and swing myself up on Orphnaeus' back. Macaria jumps on Nycteus, then calls out to the other horses who promptly trot over to a person of their choice. Aethon chooses Darsh, Alastor glides over to Matthew, Nonius and Ametheus select Lorrenia and Katrina as their riders, respectively.

Once we are strapped in and set, Macaria scampers to the front of the team. She bends over and rubs Nycteus' rich ebony mane. Whispering a few words of quiet encouragement, she wobbles as the horse straightens.

"Steeds of Hades, prepare. We set out for a quest to rescue our Master. We shall stand and fight together. We pray to Athena for her wisdom, to Artemis for her strength, to Apollo for clarity, and to Hades for guidance. Alale!"

Macaria yells and horses rear up, as if responding to her wishes. Behind us, the sun rises from its slumber, dowsing the hills in heavenly gold. Nycteus whinnies and thunders forward, and the rest of our mounts shoot ahead, like they were released from a tight bowstring.

Matthew, riding on Alastor, swiftly draws up next to me. He flashes me a grin, his cyan blue eyes wild with shock and excitement. He parts his lips with visible effort; with the wind howling in our faces, it is a miracle we are still sitting straight.

"This is," Matthew coughs as air catches in his throat, "awesome!" His childish excitement lifts my spirits, too.

Throwing him a quick thumbs up, I try to discern our surroundings. However, we pass by so quickly, it is nothing if not impossible. So, I end up doing a quick once over of the others. Katrina has taken well to Ametheus, her posture incredibly perfect. Darsh seems to be running a thousand calculations in his mind about the trajectory he might end up barfing at.

Lorrenia almost topples over a few times, but she figures it out just as rapidly, which is commendable when you are travelling at the speed of light. Unable to see Macaria's expression, I judge from the tension in her shoulders that she was anything but thinking rationally.

Her battlecry had given me the the chills. The way she had uttered the ancient Greek war slogan, alale, was filled with anguish and bewilderment. Her pain was what had spurned the steeds into action, I realised with a jolt.

Hades' horses were nothing if not the most fearsome creatures of the Underworld. That place thrived on all kinds of negative feelings. Any monster arising from the very pits of Hell, would have to feed on despairing emotions to sustain themselves.

And that is exactly how Macaria is controlling them. She is sharing her fear, her abandonment, her anger. Channeling them right into the horses' hearts, she had managed to summon them at her will and guide them forward.

It makes me shudder, thinking of the kind of pain it would take to sustain six horses at the same time. My heart breaks for her but it is not my place to help someone who lied to my face since the day they met me. 

I cannot help her, and it is not just for her blatant deception. Allowing myself to open up to her might give her hope of a different relationship we might have. It is one thing for her to long for something, it is entirely different for me to fuel her longing, falsely. 

I am peeled out of thoughts by Darsh's screaming. He's tittering over Aethon's back, almost on the verge of falling down. I gather my thoughts too late to gallop over to aid him, but thankfully, Katrina flies past him, pushing him up straight.

Matthew sees my worried expression and brushes up against Orphnaeus. "Hey!" I yell, pushing him away. "If Orphnaeus decides to chuck me and leave because of you, I'll personally stab you." 

He puts his hands up, effortlessly charmingly. "For someone who just wants peace, you are way too aggressive, Meyers."

I scoff. "Excuse me for having feelings, you dolt."

"I am the dolt?" Matthew asks, feigning hurt.

I mimic his shocked tone. "Says the one who fell on his face before we even set out."

"I said not a word," he grumbles and I laugh.

We are still travelling like a bullet shot out of a gun, but somehow, we've all adjusted to it. It does not feel like being slapped in the face by the wind anymore. Darsh looks a lot less green, Lorrenia has literally taken to the skies; she's basically a laughing blur, and Katrina gallops behind, keeping an eye on all of us.

We are just about to cross over to the plains from the hills when the ground begins to shake. The grass uproots itself, the trees bend dangerously and the soil flies straight into our faces. We cough and stutter as a patch of ground swirls and transforms into a woman.

"Going somewhere important? Without visiting me?"

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