Attempt 27

It takes me months to even attempt another escape again after losing Zeph. I sit in my prison room and stare at the wall. At some point, I start drawing, if only to pass the time. After a month, someone drops a package through my bars while I'm asleep, a few books stacked up, but there's no note and I know they're not from Zeph. Hades would never bring him back so quickly, so I have to assume it's from Zeph's friend he spoke of before. I have no one to thank but I read those books until they're well-worn, until they become prized possessions.

My first attempts are halfhearted, more of a reminder to keep trying. Hades actually scowls at me in disappointment with one of them because I barely try, making it only a few steps outside my room. It isn't until a few times later that I realize if I want to honor Zeph's memory, it should be by escaping like he'd wanted.

It doesn't stop me from looking for his face in every demon I pass each time I escape though, despite knowing he may not have the same face. But the eyes should be the same. No one has eyes like him. I'd be able to pick him out by his eyes. He never reappears though. I never find him again.

I unlock my gate and sigh, staring at the marks above the door. Twenty-seven. I started keeping count of my attempts after the fourth failure. It'd seemed cute at first. Now, it's a harsh reminder that my chances of getting out of Under are bleak. Still, I refuse to stop trying. I know Jack won't stop trying to find me, so I'll do my part and try to escape.

Stepping from my prison doesn't come with a sense of excitement anymore. It comes with wariness and exhaustion. How long can I keep this up? How many times can I try to escape before Hades tires of the game? Something tells me I'll tire long before he will.

This time, when I exit the cave hallways and face the city, I hesitate. I could turn left, or I could turn right. Zeph, at least, gave me something. He showed me the way out of here, but it can't be the only way. Hades will expect me to go for it and have extra guards there, just as I've already found out. Left holds nothing as far as I know, so I stare into the city I've yet to see. Taking a deep breath, I go straight instead.

The magic of the Enchanted Forest lives in the trees. They sparkle and shine, and while we have things like toilets and stuff, we don't have anything like Under has. The city buzzes with power that lights up bulbs and tubes along buildings, making it so colorful, I can hardly stare at the designs for too long. I wonder just how the magic works as I trail my hand along one and jerk back at finding it hot to the touch. Lanterns with tiny dancing creatures hang along the pathways, further giving light. The creatures seem content in their prisons, but I realize a second later they're not prisoners when I watch one open the pane and switch with another. They move in shifts.

The buildings are built higher than the ones back home, but not so high I couldn't still scale them if I needed to. There's an artistry to them, the stone carvings both grotesque and beautiful all at once. When I come around the corner and spy a building with a bright blue dragon and a sign saying, "The Stolen Soul", I make my way over to it in curiosity.

I'm surprised to find a tavern like we have at home, though infused with the magic of Under. I step inside, taking in the bar and the man behind it. A single patron sits at the counter, his back to me, but even from here, I can see the gold dripping from him.

Fuck it. What have I got to lose at this point?

I move over to the counter and take a seat at the barstool next to the man. "You got anything like whiskey?" I ask, not sure what else to ask for.

The bartender looks at me with raised brows. "Demon whiskey or human?"

"What's the difference?"

"One will get you drunk," he replies. "The other may kill you."

"Temptation," I reason. "But the one that'll get me drunk. I have no desire to die today."

He nods and pours a glass before sliding it in front of me. I take a sip and sigh at the burn of it, thankful I'd found this place.

"I thought the fearsome Jill Morris being in Under was a rumor," the man in gold says. "And yet here you are, escaped and sitting in the bar with me."

I tip my glass toward him. "Apparently, my reputation precedes me everywhere I go."

"It does indeed," he muses, turning fully to me.

He's a handsome older man, his beard speckled with grey, but his eyes still hold a youthful spark that tells me he's more dangerous than I assume. He doesn't wear a crown, but he feels as if he should. I don't know why I feel that way. Maybe it's all the gold necklaces hanging around his neck. Maybe it's the golden earrings sparkling along his ears. He wears thick leather gloves that he uses to hold his drink. Even the glass he holds is made of gold whereas mine is a simple crystal one.

"You must really like gold," I comment, studying him.

His eyes tighten. "Like is a strong word."

I gesture to the chains around his neck. "Why wear it unless you like it?"

"Sometimes, we can't escape who we are, Jill." He toasts his glass to me. "I can't escape myself no more than you can."

I tilt my head, studying him. "You been in Under long?"

"Longer than you," he admits. "But not as long as I'd like."

Frowning, I gesture for another top up of whiskey. The bartender does so without question. He also doesn't ask for money. I don't know how I'm going to pay for this.

We sit in silence for a few minutes, both of us enjoying our drinks and company. After staring at the glitter of the lights on the liquor bottles for too long, I finally speak.

"I really don't understand why I'm here," I murmur. "He could have anyone."

"And yet he wants you," the man offers. "Sometimes, there doesn't have to be a reason other than that. Especially not for gods."

I turn toward him, taking in his eyes that match the gold of his chains. "You know a lot about gods?"

His eyes tighten further. "Some."

"Do I have any chance of escaping?" I ask. "Be honest."

He hesitates, and in his hesitation, I find my answer. "I see," I rasp. "It's good I prepare myself for the outcome next time I try."

"You'd still try? Even knowing it's pointless?"

"What else do I have?" I ask honestly. "My brother won't stop looking for me, so I won't stop trying to get out."

He crosses his arms. "It seems I underestimated you, Jill Morris. I see why he chose you now."

"You keep saying my name like you know me," I grumble. "You've yet to reveal your own."

He smiles. "You can call me Midas."

"No ‘His Royal Majesty'?" I tease.

His smile falls. "Why would you say something like that?"

I shrug. "You feel. . . kingly. I've met a lot of kings throughout my life, and you carry yourself the same way." I tap him on his forehead. "Seems like there used to be a crown here once upon a time."

He tilts his head, studying me closely. He doesn't seem to be mad about me tapping him on his forehead. Instead, he seems. . . intrigued.

"You remind me of someone I once knew," he murmurs.

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" I ask.

He blinks. "I haven't decided yet."

"You escape just to come drinking?" a voice says behind us.

I sigh and set my glass down. Glancing over my shoulder to find Hades standing there, I throw back the rest of my whiskey and savor the burn. "Looks like the calvary has arrived."

"I know," Midas says. "I sent word to him."

I narrow my eyes. "You traitor."

He shakes his head and tosses his own drink back. "There are no traitors here, Jill. Only people running from their own demons. You'll do well to remember that."

"So you pretend to be my friend, for what? For amusement," I hiss, standing from my chair.

"I wasn't pretending," he murmurs. "I do so like you, Jill. But I'm beholden if I'm to remain here. I'm sorry." He stands himself and turns to me. "Us Gods of Under have tasks, and I can't do mine if Hades if consumed with hunting you down." But he turns to Hades and shakes his finger sternly at him. "If you hurt her, I'll turn all your shit to gold, asshole."

Hades rolls his eyes. "Oh, I'm scared. Not the gold," he says sarcastically, and it only intrigues me further.

"Nothing will be black anymore," Midas points out.

Hades' eyes widen. "I wasn't planning on hurting her, asshole. Clearly. You stay away from my throne room."

"You better not," Midas warns again. He turns back to me and pats me on top of my head like I'm a child. "Behave, demon hunter. But come back any time to have a drink with me. I enjoyed our talk."

I stare after him as he leaves, not bothering to bow to Hades like I've seen practically every other demon do. "Gods?" I say out loud, glancing at Hades in question. "There's more than one?"

Hades grins. "It was a nice try, Jill. But I have a new lock for you. Let's see how you handle this one next."