Free Promise of Shadows by Justina Ireland

lie to his words, and I lower my shovel while Cass keeps hers raised.
“Where’d you come from?”I ask. Not Tartarus. He’s entirely too clean to have worked the Pits. His jeans and T-shirt look new and modern. Plus, I definitely would’ve remembered his eyes, a metallic blue that glows with an inner light. If he isn’t a full-blooded Æthereal, he’s got to be close. Maybe that’s why Cass is giving him some serious stink eye.
He grins sheepishly and rubs the back of his neck. “Actually, I come from a small town called Ulysses’s Glen. It’s in Virginia.” Now that he mentions it, I can hear the slightest hint of an accent in his voice. I look at Cass for guidance. She says nothing, so I continue the interrogation.
“How’d you get down here?” And why would anyone willingly come to Tartarus? Maybe I’ve been in the Underworld too long, but suspicion curdles my stomach, and I’m about one bad answer away from clobbering pretty boy with my shovel. Or letting Cass hit him with her shovel. Whatever.
“Um,” he looks around and then lets out a sigh. “My brother. He can trip the Rift.”Cass gives me a confused look, and the blond guy hurriedly explains, “You know, travel across the Rift. Anyway, we came down here looking for someone, but then there was a chimera stampede, and we got separated. I’m Blue, by the way.”
There’s no hint of a lie. He smells as honest and open as his smile, and any lingering doubts evaporate.“Nice to meet you, Blue. I’m Zephyr, and this is Cass. So the fruit? They’re okay to eat?”
“Yeah, but we should probably take them beyond the tree line.” He points to where the trees open up to a blood-red sky.
That sky stops me. “What’s going on?” I’ve never seen the sky in Tartarus look so . . . violent. Sure the rain sucks, but on clear days the sky is usually gray like a permanent twilight, that moment in the Mortal Realm just after the sun sets and before the world is plunged into darkness. But this red sky? It’s terrifying.
“My brother said it’s a sign that war is brewing,” Blue says, jumping up to pull one of the heavy, spiky fruits down. Since he’s much taller than us he doesn’t have to rely on the reach of the shovel to pick the fruit. He tosses it to me, and then does the same for Cass before getting one for himself.
“How would he know?” Cass asks as we walk to the tree line and that bleeding sky.
“Well,he kind of grew up down here.He knows the Underworld better than anyone I’ve ever met.”
I’ve never heard of a vættir growing up in the Underworld, but I spent my entire life in the Aerie until I was arrested and sent to Tartarus. There’s a lot I don’t know.
Outside the trees the land looks different from the Pits. The ground is hard, not the soft mud I’m used to. Blue grass grows in waist-high clumps, and black boulders dot the landscape. It’s a lot warmer here than the Pits, and even without a sun it feels nice. This part of the Underworld might look like something out of a nightmare with its red sky, but it doesn’t smell bad. There’s none of the scent of offal that clings to the Pits, and without a bunch of other vættir I’m not overwhelmed by the scent of emotions. It’s actually kind of okay, if you can call hell nice.
Cass points to a far-off yellow river that winds through the landscape. “That’s the Acheron. We’ll follow it until we get to the Styx.” Her voice is low, her words only for me. I remember that the Styx is where Charon, the Ferryman, plies his trade. If we want to get across to the Mortal Realm, he’s going to be our best bet.
We sit on a couple of the boulders and eat our fruit. Cass waits until Blue tears into his before taking a bite. I follow her lead. And promptly gag.The inside of the fruit is meaty, like eating a too-rare steak. It’s also salty, and the flavor is somewhere between a hamburger and a rotten pineapple. It’s all I can do to choke it down.
“No telling how long until