Hades by Alexandra Adornetto

up
    outside the club. It was strange to see a car indoors, but the
    underground tunnels, I realized, were wide enough to fit two
    cars side by side and were meant to serve as roads. The
    rear door was opened for me and the guards slid in on
    either side so I was ensconced between their bulky forms.
    The smel of cigar smoke clung to them.
    We drove for a while through the winding tunnel that
    seemed to spiral into nowhere. Wandering partygoers
    shuffled out of the way when they saw us coming. Once we
    moved away from the club district I noticed that these
    people didn’t seem to be celebrating. They drifted
    aimlessly around with staring eyes and vacant faces like
    the living dead. Looking at them closer, I saw their skin had
    a grayish tinge to it.
    Final y at the end of a steep tunnel we came to a
    towering building that had perhaps been white, but had now
    faded to the color of yel owed parchment. It must have been
    at least twenty stories high and classical in style with plaster
    scrol s above the windows.
    Revolving doors led us into a vast and opulent lobby. The
    hotel was designed so the rooms on every floor overlooked
    the lobby, giving the effect of looking up into a maze. The
    showpiece of the lobby was a curtain of tiny fairy lights. It
    hung from ceiling to floor il uminating a central marble
    fountain in which stone nymphs frolicked. Adjacent to the
    reception desk rose an ornate glass elevator in the shape
    of a giant capsule. Here the hotel staff were dressed in
    crisp uniforms and the mood was business-like compared
    to the seediness of the clubs. When I walked in, they al
    froze for a moment and fixed me with the eyes of vultures
    before resuming their duties. Despite their seemingly
    ordinary appearances, I could see something untamed in
    their gazes, something that made me squirm inside. I was
    grateful to be flanked by the two burly security guards, as I
    would not have liked to be left alone with them.
    “Welcome to the Ambrosia,” said the woman behind the
    reception desk in a light and airy voice. With her tailored
    suit and blond hair wound in a smooth bun, she was the
    picture of efficiency. Except for her unblinking, shark-eyed
    gaze. “We’ve been expecting you. Your rooms are ready.”
    Her cheerfulness belied the sharp look in her eyes. Her
    long manicured nails made a soft, clacking sound as they
    moved fleetingly over the keyboard. “The penthouse has
    been reserved for you.”
    “Thank you,” I said. “It’s a beautiful hotel, but would you
    mind tel ing me where I am?”
    The woman stopped short, dropping her professional
    demeanor for a moment.
    “He hasn’t told her?” She looked incredulously at my
    escorts, who exchanged looks as if to say Don’t ask us . I
    was having trouble containing the feeling of dread growing
    in the pit of my stomach. It was spreading upward like a
    fungus. “Wel , my dear”—the receptionist’s eyes glinted
    darkly—”you’re in Hades. Make yourself at home.” She slid
    a key card in a plastic pouch across the polished counter.
    “Excuse me?” I said. “By Hades you don’t mean … you
    can’t mean …” I faltered. Of course I knew instantly what
    she meant. I knew from my studies that the literal translation
    of the place meant “the unseen.” But my mind refused to
    acknowledge it as true. Until I heard it spoken aloud I didn’t
    have to believe it.
    “Otherwise known as Hel ,” the receptionist said breezily.
    “But don’t let Mr. Thorn catch you cal ing it that. He prefers
    the more classical name. And you know how pedantic
    demon princes can be.”
    I only caught part of what she said because I’d stopped
    listening. My knees began to tremble. The last thing I saw
    were the bodyguards lunging forward as the black marble
    floor came up to meet my face.

    7
    Underground
    I woke to a deafening silence. A milky light filtered into the
    room and I rubbed my eyes to get a better look at my
    surroundings. The first thing I saw was