But Thanatos hasn’t betrayed me, driven me insane, and gotten me locked in a basket, either.
She squared her shoulders. Their differences didn’t matter. It wasn’t a contest. It wasn’t real. Whatever happened in the next few minutes was only a ruse. Bait at the end of a hook.
She stepped close to Thanatos and looked up into his eyes. The sound of her breath was loud. After a moment, his hand came up to touch her face.
“I’m not kissing you!” She jerked back. “I’m not here to die.”
He pulled away and rolled his eyes, muttering about stereotypes. “Not all of my kisses kill,” he said. “But you’re really starting to tempt me.”
“Thanatos.” Calypso shook her head. “Don’t joke. Not now.”
“Why don’t you try with me?” he said to the nymph, but Calypso shook her head.
“It has to be real,” Calypso replied. “And I feel nothing, now that Odysseus is gone. But Cassandra, I will help you.”
“Help me,” Cassandra said. She wasn’t sure if she could do it. Lusting for death was not her style. But what was the alternative? To let Calypso try to lasso something called the Unceasing Anger? She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. After a few moments, she felt Thanatos’ hands settle on her hips.
“Make it real,” Calypso whispered. “It has to be real.”
It felt impossible. The cold from Thanatos seeped into the air and wound around Cassandra’s body. And there was nothing romantic about standing in the middle of a stone and dirt basement, waiting for a leather-winged hell-beast to burst in between them.
Slow and easy, Calypso’s voice began to weave through the room like a melody. Cassandra wanted to ask what she was saying, but could barely form the thought, and besides, the song didn’t sound like words. It sounded like sunlight filtered through clear water. It sounded like island flowers.
Thanatos pulled Cassandra closer. He didn’t feel so cold anymore, and a tug had started in her chest, sweet and warm. When she pressed against him it felt natural. His fingers slipped into her hair. He whispered something, and she leaned in close to hear.
“Cassandra, be ready.”
She blinked. His voice was strained, as though he’d run a mile.
“The path is open.”
Calypso’s chant was gone, and slowly, Cassandra’s body sank back into her shoes, leaving her to wonder where it had been. Her fingers were clenched onto the sides of Thanatos’ shirt, and for the moment she didn’t let go. She was too busy listening, and studying the change in the room.
Everything had crystallized. The air was clearer and somehow brighter. The stone of the walls and even the dirt floor seemed sharper. It was like standing inside of a mirror’s reflection.
A beautiful girl materialized beside them. She wore a short black dress and black boots. Hair the color of wet sand tumbled to her waist. And before she could speak a word, Calypso threw the chain around her neck and pulled.
The image of the girl disappeared faster than Cassandra could have imagined. The girl’s tanned arm turned shriveled, the skin loose and ropey with veins. Her lovely mouth morphed into a bat’s mouth, too full of teeth and tongue. And her brown eyes rolled so red it was a wonder they didn’t burst and bleed down her cheeks.
The Fury screeched and bucked, but Calypso maneuvered the chains as if she’d practiced for years: a quick loop there to secure an arm, a hard jerk here to throw the Fury off balance. A cuff closed around its right wrist and Thanatos moved in to help, pulling the slack chain taut. It was none too soon. The Fury bit down on air inches from Cassandra’s face. She could smell the decay on its breath.
Wings burst from the Fury’s back and battered Calypso and Thanatos both, but Calypso looped more chain around its body and then jumped onto the wings.
“Thanatos! Secure the legs!”
Before he could, the Fury kicked, and its talons caught Calypso in the shin, tearing a bright red line. And then Thanatos had the cuffs on and Calypso rolled away, leaving the beast to seethe and writhe on the floor.
“Cally! Your leg.” Cassandra held her hands out, to help her walk or apply pressure, but Calypso waved her away.
“It’s all right. It’s shallow.” But blood ran freely down to her ankle and into her sandal.
Thanatos stepped up beside them and looked down on the Fury. He seemed exhilarated, more than anything.
“Wrapped up nicely as a Christmas package.” He dusted his hands off on his jeans. “Let’s go upstairs awhile. Let her mellow. I’d rather not have to suck the blood out of something that looks like that.”