Page 5 of Guided by the Stars (Creating Destiny #1)

Nora

When the Dead Speak

“Wait! This is the Oracle of the Dead?” I ask, ducking my head back into the passenger window, hoping I heard wrong.

We’ve been driving up the coast watching ships sail over the dark blue Acheron river.

The sun was shining brightly enough to reveal caves hidden in the giant cliffs.

It was beautiful. Now I’m standing on a gravel path, being told we have to walk up towards the dirty stones if we want to see the entrance to the dead.

“Yes, Miss Lukas, it’s the Oracle of the Dead.

The Nekromanteion,” he says, pointing up towards the cypress trees where the journey to the Underworld starts.

“You sure you want to be here? The gates have already been called open for the season,” he says, sending a shiver down my spine.

Great, now I’m letting our old driver scare me.

He was very chatty on our drive up here, telling us stories about the Acheron river and how they link our world to the Underworld, just like the Styx water.

According to him, this place is one of the most famous and the most dangerous, especially during this time of year, The entrances here are at their highest power, allowing safe passage.

All because it’s the only time Persephone can escape her capture from the Underworld.

It’s due to her mother, since she ensures all gateways stay open for her daughter’s arrival back home.

The idea is sweet, it just leaves you to wonder what else can come through that door.

“We got it from here. See ya soon.” Adriane loops her arm through mine, pulling me away, and walks us up the gravel path straight toward the line of tourists.

“Seriously though, he has a point. Do we want to be here? I mean, I’m all for the dead, but in this place, the grass doesn’t even want to be alive. ”

I laugh, shaking my head at her. We’re both sick of the list Bill made for us.

I was excited when Bill and Jane handed me the tickets.

I pictured beaches, the sun, and some time away from the memories California holds.

Nowhere in my imagination did I think he would have us trudging around Greece looking at some ancient temples, chasing after his fairytales.

He’s obsessed. Luckily, we only have a few more stops left before we can take over and claim this vacation as ours.

“Let’s get this over with,” I sigh, taking the lead into the passageway we have to walk through.

This place is like a demolished castle. Crumbled stones.

Arches torn apart and walls halfway standing.

The path we are on has the broken down parts on either side that lead us to dead ends, forcing us to turn.

It’s like a maze. Walls appear at the end of the walk, making us take corner after corner, until finally it lets us out into the center of Nekromanteion. To the entrance of the chamber.

“It is a little interesting, right?” I say, looking around as we stand in the middle of the site.

There are a ton of people here. The question is, who are the tourists and who are the true believers?

It shocked me when our driver said there are still ceremonies held all over Greece honoring the gods.

I figured maybe a few here and there, but according to him, there has been a surge in recent honorings.

How someone can still believe in this type of stuff is beyond me.

“Nor, check this out.” Adriane whips the camera up, snapping a shot of the sign placed in front of the steps. “Bill will love it. Let’s go in just for a few minutes to take some pictures. I promise we will be quick.” She gives me a reassuring smile, knowing how much I hate tight confined spaces.

I step forward, peering down the stairs. The familiar panic is rising in my chest as I look at the dimly lit dungeon. Okay, it’s a chamber, but it’s dark, and not somewhere I want to be. Why couldn’t they just perform their ceremonies in the open?

“Come on now. We got some ghosts to visit,” I say, taking a deep breath in and forcing myself to push away the hesitation.

I take the lead, letting my fingers graze the wall.

The stone changes from cool to damp as the sunlight behind us fades the further down we walk.

Its warmth disappears completely as we enter the long, rectangular room.

An icy chill runs down my spine and an eeriness creeps along the surface of my skin. “Do you feel that?” I shiver again, the hairs on my neck prickling to life. “Let’s get these photos and get the hell out of here.”

“Okay, ten minutes. This is kind of neat, though.” She chuckles at my obvious discomfort and turns her attention to the chamber.

It’s almost like we are standing in an underground tunnel, just not as long.

The walls surrounding us are cool and damp, making the air musky.

The further into the chamber we walk, the dimmer the electric tea lights shine.

At least it’s not as dark as I expected.

“This is crazy. People would come down here bringing gifts thinking they could just enter the Underworld?”

“Actually, they would sacrifice animals. And mainly to bring the spirits to you.” Adriane and I turn to face the voice that interrupted us.

He’s a guy roughly our age. Blonde hair.

Brown eyes. He’s standing next to us with a smile on his face.

“Sorry didn’t mean to intrude. I come here a lot with my aunt.

It’s a custom,” he says with a heavy accent.

I blink a few times, a little shocked about the animal part. Luckily, Adriane chimes in before I can. “Wait, isn’t the entrance to the Land of the Dead leading you into the Underworld?”

“Yes, it’s an entrance. However, it’s a passage that, when taken, traps you.

Only a select few have ever been able to make it out.

” He shrugs, stepping a little closer to us.

“Most come here wanting to offer whatever they can to bribe Hades. They come hoping the King of the Underworld will allow the dead to return to us for one night, wanting to speak to their souls. Like my aunt over there.” He points in her direction before continuing, “My Uncle died many years ago, but she doesn’t give up hope.

In the summer months, she comes each weekend, offering as much as she can, longing to speak to her husband. ”

My gaze travels over towards his aunt. One of three women in a group, she is kneeling down. All three have their backs towards us, their heads facing the dark wall at the very end. Each is wearing all-black clothing and their hands lay in front of them as they pray. Or maybe they are chanting?

It breaks my heart knowing what they are doing.

It’s not like going to church or a temple to honor your loved ones.

This place is more like ritual grounds where people come together to raise the ghosts of the dead.

Mourners willing to offer sacrifices, hoping to talk to their loved ones once more.

I don’t get how they could want this. When I had to bury mine, it was hard enough.

I wouldn’t survive seeing them again. Especially not for one night, anyway.

“What are they doing?” I ask, watching them stand, holding bowls in front of them. Each passes their bowl around to the other.

He turns his eyes back towards her, shaking his head and lowering it slightly.

“The offerings can be anything. My aunt chooses to offer grains to Hades. She hopes the fruits of the harvest will entice him enough since she cannot afford more,” he says, rolling his eyes and chuckling.

“I suppose I’m lucky. I found some blood earlier as I was helping my aunt.

People sneak in here a lot with animals. ”

“Wait, you were serious? People still do that? Bring dead animals into what is now a tourist site?” Adriane asks the question I was thinking.

He shifts, seeming uncomfortable, rubbing his hand against the back of his head.

“Because it’s sacred ground, people come here.

The animals aren’t always dead, though. Some believe they must be fresh to offer them to Hades.

” He gives us a weak smile before he continues, “This is part of our culture here. Some of us believe it more than others.”

“Anyway, my name is L—” His words fade into the background as I look back to his aunt.

They had placed the bowls on the ground in front of their feet.

Now they are standing tall with their heads raised as they hold hands, speaking words I wish I understood.

There is a power in their voices, a strength in their belief. It’s something mesmerizing to witness.

My body shudders with the sudden chilly breeze.

It washes against my skin as I watch the lights around us flicker.

I take a step back, but stumble as powerful waves of emotion flood me.

I can’t breathe. “A!” I yell towards her, feeling trapped.

“I gotta get out of here.” I don’t give her time to ask questions.

My hand reaches for hers and I pull her along with me, making our way back to the car.

“I’m sorry, A. I guess when the lights flickered, and it went dark, the past caught up to me,” I finally have the courage to say once the driver put some distance between us and that damn ritual site.

If I stayed any longer, my anxiety would have gotten worse.

I should have realized that walking down into the dungeon would spark some buried feelings.

It was overwhelming. Years of pent up pain were coursing through me.

“Wasn’t just you, Nor. I was more than willing to get back to the Land of the Living. Something in there was off. How about a quiet night back at the hotel?” She smiles, nudging me, and I nod, agreeing with her all the way. My best friend is always here for me.

“Love you to the moon and back.” She yawns, resting her head against her chair.

I sigh, letting my head lay against the cool window and say, “Love you to the sun and back.”