Chapter Thirty: Guilt Trip

Media: Someone's back!! But who??

In our distraction, we don't see the guards approaching us.

Three women and a man, one on horseback, circle us. They must have noticed the chaos and were now figures in the mist.

My brows furrow. The Fields had been entirely clear before, and now a fog has arisen, obscuring the sky and highlighting the shadow of the world behind. Through the haze, I can make out a palace-- of white towers and golden banners, exactly as I'd seen it when we'd arrived.

Chronus' palace! We made it?

'Who goes there?' one of the soldiers shouts, and Hadrian and I scramble to our feet.

'We mean no harm!' he cries, raising his hands to show our innocence. 'My brother is Chronus! We have been...'

'He owes me,' I interrupt, my voice ringing across the eerie quiet. 'I won our bet.'

Hadrian flashes an angry look at my disregard for his brother's household, but I force my lips into a pleasant, lazy grin.

But before either of us say anything further, a relieved screech echoes towards us.

'Nerissa! NERISSA!'

And I'm hit by a strong, muscular, blond ball of hugging. I don't recognise him in his white uniform, a suit so clean that the shadows appear bright. Who in Elysium would know me, and be dressed like a fairytale prince in a white-and-gold doublet and black breeches?

I notice the tanned, bronze arms and the scent of beach waves is pleasant compared to my own vile, sewer-filled smell. That's when I know who it is. My voice is unsteady, I'm so shocked.

'Mercer?'

The boy pulls back, and it truly is him. From his shining amber eyes, to his curling hair and his boyish joy, it's Mercer. And I let out a choking laugh that sounds, to my despair, a little like a sob of relief myself.

I'm actually glad to see him.

He pulls me into another crushing hug, enveloping me in his arms. After a few seconds, someone coughs, and we pull apart.

'What are you doing here?' I ask him when he pulls away. My gaze flickers to his chest, where a familiar tag hangs there-- similar to mine, but without the ugly plate that tells me of my sins. Instead, a pretty white stone hangs against his collarbone.

Behind him, the guard on horseback has drawn up, her eyes disapproving of not being the one to assess me first. In fact, our display of affection appears displeasing to her; at Mercer's simpering, she rolls her eyes, and nods to the other guards to move on.

I see the other man and woman shrug, and then continue on their patrol, their plates of white armour clanging into the mist.

Hadrian hovers behind Mercer, moving into my line of sight. For some reason, his eyes are looking dangerously pissed off-- enough that I take an extra step away from Mercer. It seems that I'm the only one that notices, and as I have the advantage of getting close with the King of the Underworld, and as he mostly pulls those faces around me, I can sense when he's angry.

If only I knew why.

Mercer is, as always, oblivious. He sees my stare at the white stone, and happily bounds forward, showing it to me.

'Isn't it cool? Apparently, this is my soul! It's so pure that I came straight here or something, most people have some sort of sin...'

My mouth drops open. He passed that awful test? Eyes narrowed, I stare again at that pretty boy face, wondering if there's a secret ninja within.

Mercer looks at my own tag and blushes. I'm reassured-- if he were a ninja, he wouldn't be able to keep it a secret.

I nod. 'Uh huh. Real life sinner, right here. We don't get given pretty rocks.'

He's still staring at the tag, and my hunch is he's wondering what the letters mean. Mercer's not the first person I want knowing about the sins I'd given in to. I flush, angling myself away from his line of sight, and fold my arms. I'm conscious that there's a lot he doesn't know-- particularly the part where I started growing flowers-- and yet, I don't know how to bring it up. So I say,  'Why are you here?'

Mercer gives me a look like I've gone mad. 'Are you kidding? You and the King of the Underworld vanished, and so I followed.'

'You followed me? How did you know?'

Mercer moves to face away from the others, disguising the pink tinge to his already-blushing cheeks. 'Um, her name was...Sybella. She told me you'd gone beyond the waterfall, and that I could get you back.'

Sybella! The girl that snuck into my room? Why did she help me?

My face must show my shock, because Mercer runs a hand through his hair, looking torn. He says, 'I came to get you, Nerissa. I know I'm not very good at it, but it's my job.'

Behind us, Hadrian snorts. Mercer's smile falls and he half turns, shooting Hadrian an irritated look.

Even I snap, harsher than I intend to. 'What is it, Hadrian?'

The dark haired king gives a taunting, devilish smile, his eyes flickering in disdain to Mercer. 'I was entertaining the idea of you thinking you could save her.'

I bristle. He had cut me out of the conversation entirely-- and was speaking directly to Mercer!

And Mercer says, 'And you think you'd do better? I'm here, with help, ready to get her out.'

'Why do you think I'm here? She doesn't need anyone else!'

'Clearly she does if you're both stuck here...'

My head pings like a ball in a rally, getting all the more incredulous as the bickering continues. Not once have they asked my opinion on my predicament. Oh, no.

Even the guard on the horse gives me a flat look, and I can almost read her thoughts: you put up with this? Daily?

My head bobs in a downcast nod. The guard's face twitches, and I'm certain she's suppressing a smirk. She casts a small look towards the boys, and then jerks her head, her auburn hair fluttering.

Sighing, I cross over to the guard, leaving Mercer and Hadrian in a heated discussion about who was in a better position to help me. Neither of them notice as the two females in the group cut loose and walk away, me following at the horse's slow walk.

It takes them a few minutes to stop arguing and start calling for us. A few seconds later, and heavy panting can be heard through the mist, and the crashing of the two men plundering around to find us.

'Is it much farther?' I ask the guard, ignoring the two men behind us. In turn, the guard looks own at me, her gaze steely.

'Not at all,' she replies, 'The Elysian Fields are an unusual way to approach the palace, but they do come in handy. At least, when you leave, you're close to where you need to be.'

'Unusual?' I ask. 'What other ways are there to reach the palace?'

'Via the main entrance?' the guard gives another superior smirk. 'Through the Circles, like any other citizen? The Fields aren't open to just anyone. How did you find them?'

'Through a door. The Moirai sent us this way.'

A nervous laugh splutters from the guard's mouth. My eyebrow rises; it's the first humanoid gesture I've seen. 'At least they liked you enough to send you through the Fields...gods, you could have ended up anywhere! You're extremely lucky.'

I shrug, taking it as a compliment. 'They knew about us,' I reply, nodding towards Hadrian. He's further back, still rutting horns with Mercer, figuratively. In reality, they're in a mute argument, both sulking at the other. 'They knew everything about us, and luckily, they wanted to help.'

The guard pauses to look at me after I say that, as if taking another evaluation of us. Sure, they had relaxed once Mercer had spoken for us...but my words have set her on edge.

'Who are you two?' she asks, and I see her eyes flick towards Hadrian. 'I'm allowing you two an audience because Mercer trusts you, but if you pose a risk to my King...'

'Nerissa.' I hold my hand out for her to shake it. After a suspicious glance, the guard takes it. Her grip is intimidating. 'I'm looking for my brother. He over there...' I jerk a thumb backwards at the dark-haired prince of sexiness, currently charging towards us with a grim expression. 'That's my fiancé, and the ruler of the Underworld.'

Just for a second, I see her arm steering the horse flutter. 'That's King Hadrian? That...boy? He rules the rivers above?'

It's a rhetorical question, because she's already looked away, giving Hadrian an incredulous look. My own head is furrowed, having never heard the expression "rivers above", but assuming that Elysians called Hadrian's Underworld above.

Speaking of, the man claps a hand on my shoulder. 'Hey, why are you leaving me with that goon?'

My fingers brush away his hand, and my lips form a simpering smile. 'Dear husband, I didn't want to interrupt such an eloquent conversation among men. Particularly not when it debated me.'

Sarcasm is my best ally; I see Hadrian look flustered and guilty.

Sadly, it passes so soon-- Mercer has appeared again, now wedging himself in the middle of Hadrian and me, leaving the guard to lead us from her loner spot on the outside.

'Nerissa, what happened to you to get here? Did he push you over the waterfall?'

I shake my head. 'I chose to do this.'

Hadrian nods, giving Mercer a look that says I-told-you-so.

'Why?' Mercer demands. 'What about...your brother? Your revenge?'

'I realised Hadrian wasn't going to help me,' I say, and beside me, the King stiffens, listening with intense focus. 'He wanted to wait for me to run out of time and send me on my merry way. Then I learned that I could have my own power, as long as I return from the waterfall. So I jumped.'

Mercer, to my surprise, gives me a very patronising look. 'Why make such a rash decision? If you'd have waited, we could have gone together. You don't have to do everything on your own--'

'She wasn't alone!' Hadrian hisses.

'--and really, you were relying on coming back up the waterfall, with no plan? No help?'

I don't know what to say. I'm being chastised by Mercer, the most hopeless person I know. And yet, everything makes sense.

'I was so angry that you just left!' he cries, 'Without even telling me! You died for your brother, Nerissa, but I died for you.'

His words, though meant well, make me flinch. Caught up in the moment, the adrenaline, I hadn't spared a moment's thought for how Mercer would fare, or if he'd worry. In fact, it's been such a long time since someone has missed me, that the guilt gnawing at my belly at not including him burns fresh, a painful reminder of my errors.

I can't even meet his eyes-- I'm staring at the grass instead, but my swirling guilt has made any flowers wilt. Gods, do people always give you this nagging feeling if you did something to hurt them? I think furiously.

I haven't even told him about the flowers yet, and he helped me research that day in the library. He might even know what to make of it. God help me, Mercer might actually be useful, and I'm debating how to tell him!

Before I can apologise properly, Hadrian interrupts us. 'This is real sweet, but I want to make it home before my kingdom falls apart in my absence.'

I picture Jefferson having to lead Hadrian's duties (whatever they are) instead, and manage to avoid looking ill at the thought. How many puns would he be subjecting the population to?

At least it would be a good way to convince people to cross the waterfall.

Mercer gives a grunt of agreement before turning, sharp, and following the guard on the horse. She, on the other hand, hadn't said a word as we pulled to a halt, and remains in a determined silence as the fields give way to stone and structured gardens.

Chronus knows how to decorate; his entrance is a steep set of multiple white-marble steps, tiered so that his palace is raised on a plinth, stroking the sky. Carefully scuplted trees and flowers give everything a grand feel.

My feet ache after walking barefoot, and they're muddy from the grass, so I hesitate, not wanting to leave muddy tracks across the steps.

Hadrian pays no heed, stomping flakes of dirt into oblivion as he ploughs his way to the palace. Mercer is a close second, along with the guard on the horse, and with me in the rear.

After the first flight, I'm out of breath. By the second and third, I think I've passed out, and someone will have to show my body to Chronus.

The last ten steps I feel every muscle protesting, and my back is uncomfortably hot. Mercer has sat down, his cheeks puffing, and the guard looks nonchalant, clearly used to this daily exercise.

At the top, even Hadrian is taking a rest, staring out at the steps, and-- beyond our pain, with more clarity than before-- the Kingdom of Elysium, as seen from the palace.

The view that Chronus sees every day.

Hadrian's eyes meet mine. We made it, we both seem to say.

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TBC in the next chapter....they're meeting Chronus again at last! Will he let them go?

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