Frostbitten - Chapter Two

Thankfully, Tartarus Prison wasn’t far from the Ice Country.  Holly finished some of the final legalities concerning Jack’s release, then left the Prison to hire a mag-char for the journey back home.

Jack waited in one of the side rooms of the Prison, where the guards stayed during off-hours.  Through a wall-length window in the back of the room, he could see the hallways that shot through the first deck of Tartarus.  The dark metal cells, low lights, gleaming lock trackpads.  He suppressed a hot shiver.  He had been in about a hundred prisons before, but Tartarus was the worst. 

It was the only one where they used heat torture.

A guard entered the small side room, clothed in the usual dark togas and gauchos of a New Olympus worker.  Jack glanced up at him.  The guard did a double take when he saw the ex-prisoner; for a moment, the man’s eyes widened.

“Don’t worry about it.” Jack leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms.  “I’m a free man now.”

The guard eyed him for a long minute, clearly uncertain.

“Listen, I know I’m good, but even I’m not that good.  Especially when the Prophets had them put the temperature at one hundred degrees.” Jack dropped into a chair.  “Tartar Sauce Prison is completely secure.”

The guard humphed, glanced over Jack’s dark red pants and cold blanket, then went to the opposite end of the room to get a cup of water.  Every once in a while he would glance over his shoulder, make sure Jack was still seated, then turn back around.

Jack draped both arms on the chair rests and tilted his head.  So, they’re still afraid of me.  That’s good.  Even after a thousand years...

Now that was a feat he could be proud of.  A millennium come and gone, and they were still speaking about him.

Holly entered the room, wearing a new outfit of a white tank top and white slacks.  A white shirt dangled over one arm.  “Your chariot awaits,” she said, tossing the shirt at Jack.  “Get decent.”

Jack dropped the cold blanket and pulled the tunic on.   “Thanks.  Where’s the char?”

“On the other side of New Athens.” Holly waved perkily at the guard.  “Did he ask for your autograph?”

Jack grinned.  “Not hardly,” he said, picking up the cold blanket again.  The chilly fabric felt wonderful on his blistered skin.  “I think he thought I had escaped.”

“You couldn’t escape a mouse trap,” Holly said, giving him a once-over.  “You’re as red as... as...”

“Your hair?”

“Exactly.” Holly nodded and took his hand.  “Come on, the char’s waiting.”

Jack smiled when they exited the Prison and went past the metal-and-stone walls.  Snow draped the city in a veil of white; not a heavy flurry, but enough to put the temperature in the teens.  The tall stone buildings and cobblestone streets all shone with the white stuff, tinted pale orange by the setting sun.

“Perfect,” Jack murmured.

“The timing rocks, yeah?” Holly grabbed his hand again and hurried down the street.  “It smells great.”

Jack took a deep breath of the crisp, biting, wind-filled air.  It was great.  Amazing.

A thousand years... what’s changed?

New Athens hadn’t, at least.  Jack remembered an attack he’d led once for... oh, he didn’t even remember the reason now.  The buildings were exactly the same as they had been then.  Worn down, yes, less defined; but things didn’t change in Legend.  New Athens looked for the most part as the original Athens had in its day, and it always would.

Holly led him to the outskirts of New Athens.  His memories of the place were hazy at best, but he did remember that prisoners from Styx got out every century, if they were still alive, and received a few months’ carefully guarded parole.  Holly had probably prowled all over this city those times.

Plotting our escape, no doubt, Jack thought with a grin.

“What’s so funny?” Holly asked, making a turn into the more Reflection-influenced part of New Athens.

“Nothing.  You, actually.”

“Oh.  So I’m nothing.  Okay.”

Jack shoved her arm.  “Oh, hush.”

“Don’t shove me!” Holly rammed her bony shoulder into his.  “Or has a thousand years in a hot tub made you forget who’s really in charge?”

“Ouch!” Jack said, rubbing the still-tender flesh.  “I’ve got blisters there.”

Holly’s playful expression faded a little.  “Was it really that bad?” she asked, scampering in front of him.  She put her hands on his warm face.  “I mean, when I went in that cell, I nearly melted...”

Jack gently moved her to the side and kept walking.  “I’m fine now, Hol,” he said, keeping his voice light.  “I’m alive, and you kept safe in Styx, didn’t you?  That’s good enough for me.”

Holly huffed through her nose, but kept walking.  “I’ll get the whole story out of you, some day.”

“There’s nothing to say, honestly.” Jack raised a hand and pointed.  “Is that it?”

Holly followed his finger to a sprawling building of white metal.  Mag-chars in a variety of styles and colors hovered above the roof, sleek and sparkling in the sunset.  “That’s it.”

“I want the blue one,” Jack said as they grew closer.

The street where the char rental was located seethed with activity.  Most didn’t notice the two small-boned, delicate-looking strangers, but Jack watched the ones that did notice with amusement.  One woman with a classic Greek profile, carting two Hercules Juniors along with her, saw Jack and reeled to a stop.  The little boy tugged at her hand, eyes widening, but the girl hid behind her mother’s legs.

“I think we’re famous, Hol,” Jack whispered, smiling towards the little boy.  The mother narrowed her eyes and did an about-face, yanking her reluctant children with her.

“Oh, now that was just cold.” Holly was pleased.  “And not in the good way.”

They entered the char rental building, and a dozen heads turned.  Holly raised her hand, nodding like a celebrity, and went to the desk.  Jack followed, living up the shock that Holly’s grandstanding generated.  Only she would have the chutzpah...

“We’d like a two-person mag-char,” Holly informed the girl at the desk. 

The girl gripped the desk with one hand, the other hovering over a comm. unit.  “We don’t serve criminals,” she said, staring at Jack as her fingers pecked the numbers.

“Hey!” Holly glanced at the girl’s hand, and it froze in midair, a sheen of ice glistening on her skin.  “Listen, chica, my friend is not a criminal anymore.  He did his time.  So did I, come to think of it.  So be sure to include the both of us when you talk about criminals.”

The girl grimaced, and the ice cracked, tinkling onto the comm.   Jack folded his arms.  “Call the authorities if you want, but we’re both free and clear,” he added.  “It’ll be your mistake for contacting important Tartarus guards for nothing.”

The girl hesitated.  Then her gaze flicked to something over Jack’s shoulder.  Jack almost turned when a familiar voice came from behind him.

“They’re telling the truth.”

Jack spun around.  “Hermes?”

The only Legendary who could make Jack feel like a criminal stood there calmly, arms crossed, his large trademark traveler’s hat covering his eyes.  He looked at the girl.  “Go ahead and reserve the mag-char for them.  They won’t need it for a while, though.”

“Listen, Hermie—“ Jack started.

“Oh, no.” Hermes shook his head, diving his hands into the pockets of his tan gauchos.  “Talk later.  Right now, outside.”

“But—“ Holly tried.

“Don’t try to argue,” Jack said, taking her arm.  “He’ll just persuade you.” He pulled her away from the desk, then glanced back at Hermes.  “Are you at least gonna pay for our ride?”

Hermes smirked, tossed a couple thin drachmas into the waiting girl’s hands, then ushered the other two Legendaries from the building.  “You’re still the same old apprentice, Jack,” he said.  “Let’s catch up, shall we?”