Free BURN IN HADES by Michael L. Martin Jr. Page A

it to Cross. “One for you,” she said. Next she pulled out a mirror. She stared into it and then her gaze wandered behind Cross. “This one’s for me,” she said.
    Cross turned around and saw only the dark tunnel leading into the heart of the cave. No matter what the mirror’s ability was, he didn’t want it anyway. Mirrors were evil. Not only did they show him who he truly was in death, but in life, beings from other worlds often spoke to him through the glass. They always harassed him with messages of terror. He tried his best to avoid all reflective surfaces.
    The Raven drew a comb from the sack and combed her silky black hair with it. Her hair color changed to white.
    “Nice look, Blondie,” said Cross.
    She grabbed a handful of her hair and held it in front of her face, and then combed her hair again. It changed back from day to night. She tossed the comb to Cross. “Two for you,” she said.
    The weird abilities contained within the underworld’s objects never ceased to fascinate Cross, but a comb that turned black hair to white was not something he thought would ever be useful. He thumbed his spoon, wondering what powers it contained, but if it were valuable, he wanted to keep it a secret from the Raven. She might steal it from him.
    She lifted two more objects from the sack; a cigar lighter and a blanket. She spread the blanket down on the rocky cave floor and invited him to sit with her. His bottom hadn’t touched anything soft in years. He almost smiled at her courtesy of allowing him to share it. He gladly sat with her.
    She struck the lighter and flaming salamanders crawled out of it. One scorched her hand. She dropped the lighter. The fiery salamanders blew away as though they were fragile candle light and evaporated into puffs of smoke, slithering up to salamander heaven.
    The Raven searched for the lighter, which should have been on the blanket where she dropped it, but it had disappeared as if the blanket had swallowed it. She patted the surface of the blanket searching in vain. “Well, that’s two and three for me,” she said.
    Object six was a beaded necklace with a brass cross hanging from it. The Latin cross had no corpus and was plain except for an ominous glow about it. The longer she held it, the brighter its halo bloomed. It lit up their area of the cave like a lantern and soon overpowered the camp fire. The Raven shivered as if disgusted by the sight of it and slung the necklace over to Cross. It dimmed in his hands.
    “Three for you,” she said and emptied the sack of the last three objects. A compass, an amphora, and a flask rolled onto the cave floor. The Raven seemed to take care that none of the objects fall onto the blanket where they would vanish.
    She peeked into the opening of the flask and turned it upside down. No liquid poured out. It seemed to be empty, but even he could smell the bourbon from where he was sitting across from her. She raised the mouth of the flask to her nose and drew a cautious sip. She swirled something around in her mouth and twisted the cap back on.
    She held out the compass next. The pointer spun wildly as though it didn’t know which way was north. The spoon shot out of Cross’s hand. It smacked into the Raven’s chest, and on impact a green aura sparked over her body. It vanished as quickly as it flashed. If he had blinked he would have missed it. The spoon clung to her breast like it was glued there.
    “That’s mine.” Cross reached for his spoon and unintentionally ended up with a palm full of her goods. He only left his hand on her chest so long because it felt so nice. He hadn’t been with a woman in forever and had almost forgotten the warmth and ecstasy of their delicate bodies. Even a hard woman like the Raven was soft to the touch.
    A thin strip of coldness slid under his chin breaking him from his enchantment. The Raven was holding his obsidian blade at his neck.
    He released his grip on her chest and held his palms up. “I