The cave wound upward through the earth, and Pollux grasped Castor’s hand as he led him across the uneven ground. Cerberus’s snarls echoed through the tunnel, and though Pollux would’ve rather let the hellhound feast on his own innards than admit it, fear coursed through him like adrenaline. Hades’s massive three-headed guardian of the Underworld couldn’t hurt the dead, but Pollux wasn’t afraid of a dog. He was afraid of the god who trailed him. So maybe breaking his brother out of the Underworld wasn’t exactly the smartest idea Pollux had ever had, but the council hadn’t given him much of a choice.
“Come on,” he said, pulling his brother’s arm. “It isn’t far now.”
“You said that three miles ago.” Castor stumbled, but Pollux was there in an instant, pulling him back to his feet.
“And now we’re three miles closer than we were before. Stop complaining and start running.”
They staggered through the cave together, and behind them, Cerberus’s growls grew louder. Neither brother said a word as they climbed, drawing closer to safety with each step. One foot in front of the other, again and again and again. That was all they could do.
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