The Way Back to Daylight

Author's Notes: See the Prologue. Also, thanks to affleway123, VeronicaEBlack and Eglantyne for your lovely reviews, and to cursedinsanity for an amazing beta!

Night and day lie open the gates of death's dark kingdom:

But to retrace your steps, to find the way back to daylight--

That is the task, the hard thing.

- Virgil, Aeneid, VI. 128-130 (Oxford World Classics Ed.)

--------------

Chapter Six

--------------

Charon had cut the motor, but the boat still drifted forward, finally coming to rest beside a stunted wooden pier. The riverbank was choked with dead rushes, and stank of decay and stagnant water. Remus found it hard to breathe the humid, smoky air, but harder to imagine walking alone into the wilderness. He looked at Charon for guidance, but the ferryman was smoking his pipe, his gaze fixed back across the river.

"Goodbye, then," said Remus. "I'll just ..."

He got to his feet, and the boat swayed.

"Steady, there!" Charon cried, reaching out to grasp the pier. "Don't rock the boat, lad. The river swallows all."

"Sorry," Remus muttered, quickly clambering onto the pier. It was sturdier than it looked, but some of the wooden boards were cracked or missing. Taking careful steps, he drew his wand to light the way.

"Thank you," he called to the ferryman.

"Only my job," Charon replied, echoing Sybill's words. "Wasn't a trouble. And since you're a good sort, I'll give you a word of advice."

"What's that?"

"Always keep to the path. The woods are lovely, dark and deep; but remember, Mr. Wolf, you've promises to keep, and miles to go before you sleep."

"Will do," Remus replied, but Charon had already started the motor and pulled away from the bank, gliding out into the gloom.

---

Remus wasn't sure how much time had passed, but he was famished. After brightening his wand to its full extent, he sat down and pulled some food from his pack: a ham-and-tomato sandwich, an apple, a chocolate bar and a handful of raisins. He washed it down with water from a bottle. It wasn't enough to satisfy him, but he was anxious to keep moving; though he'd lived years without Sirius, his patience was thinning.

Before closing his pack, he paused and took out the Aeneid, giving it a quick look-through. According to Virgil, he'd soon be facing Cerberus, the three-headed watchdog of the Underworld gates. If he made it past, he would meet the judge of the dead, King Minos, who would hopefully provide some answers about the prophecy.

And if I don't make it past Cerberus, he thought, what happens then? Do I step from my body and continue on? Or am I trapped forever at the gates of the Underworld?

There was no way to know, and no way to go back. Remus focused on navigating the pier, tapping each board with his heel before stepping down. Once, he slipped and his heart jolted, but he pulled himself into a crouch and didn't fall.

When he reached dry land, barren and grey as it was, he fell to his knees and took deep breaths, calming himself. The sky had lightened from indigo to the colour of a new bruise, and a rocky outcrop was visible up ahead. It was a striking landmark on the flat, gravelled ground, with a cave at its centre.

As Remus got to his feet, he imagined Cerberus lurking just inside the cave, waiting to spring out at intruders. Gripping his wand, he pulled some food from his bag: a thick piece of ham, a few sausages, and a gooey slice of chocolate cake. According to the literature, it was easier to distract the three-headed dog with food than overcome it by force. Cerberus had been chained without sunlight for most of eternity, watching the dead drift past, and it longed for life's pleasures. It could also be bewitched by music, but Remus couldn't carry a tune.

He crafted a protection ward to shield himself, though he doubted it would last under an onslaught. The magic of the Underworld was as ancient as the universe, and Remus's power would snap beneath it like a twig. Still, the ward reassured him, giving him the courage to dart forward as close as he dared.

There was no sign of movement. Cerberus was probably crouching, tensed with anticipation.

Remus levitated the food towards the mouth of the cave. He waited a few seconds, trying to breathe quietly while his heart thumped and blood thrummed in his ears. No giant paw came out to grasp the food; nothing sniffled, growled or barked. Had Cerberus rejected the offering?

Remus didn't know if he should make run for it, but he couldn't stay where he was. He started at a brisk walk, taking frequent glances at the cave. There was still no sign of Cerberus. Remus broke into a run, sprinting across the gravel. He felt ridiculous, like a child escaping from shadows in the dark, but there was no other way. It was a choice between standing still and waiting for Cerberus to pounce, or running and hoping.

He passed the cave and soon was over the rocks, following a path he hadn't noticed before. Paved with glassy black stones, it twisted round and round through a landscape of boulders and dead trees. Remus's feet pounded, his heart sped up, and he was afraid to look over his shoulder. Finally, when he couldn't run anymore, he bent over and held his knees, panting like a marathon winner, and waited for Cerberus to reach him.

Nothing happened. Recovering, Remus glanced around, seeing only the path winding into the distance. It was silent.

He trudged forward, looking for signs of life. All he noticed was a solitary raven, flapping through the windless air. Further down the path, another raven was perched on one of the dead trees, watching Remus with beady eyes.

Where had these ravens come from? How had the trees grown in the first place? Perhaps, Remus thought, they were never alive.

---

Three cheddar-and-salami sandwiches and two bottles of water later, Remus had started to worry. The path and landscape hadn't changed, and he wondered if he'd taken the wrong route. Maybe this was a labyrinth, designed to ensnare the living. Or, worse, maybe this was hell, and he was already dead. There was no telling how long he might walk, or how far; he might run out of supplies before it was over.

He was half-way through his fourth sandwich when he saw it: a sloping hill in the distance. At first it shimmered like a heat-mirage; he squinted, raising his hand to shield his eyes, before remembering the lack of sunlight.

The hill grew solid as he approached, bare and bald as a shaved scalp, with the black path winding up to the entrance of Minos's courthouse. It was a drab-grey, neoclassical building, in the style of Muggle courthouses throughout the Western world. Out the front stood a statue of Lady Justice, blindfolded and clutching a set of scales, standing on a marble pedestal.

Remus had expected a crowd of jostling ghosts, impatiently awaiting judgement, but the hill was deserted. When he reached the bottom, though, he thought he heard a whisper, somewhere ahead of him. As he climbed, the whispers grew clear, louder and more frequent, until he could make out snatches of words, then sentences. The dead were all around, but they were invisible: everyone was forced to make this journey alone.

Curious, Remus listened, picking up snatches of languages he knew.

Hate him hate him hate ... Suminasen onii-chan ... Fuck you stupid cunt get your knife out of my face ... Non je ne veux pas ... I missed the train I missed the train ... Besa mi culo puto ... Help me please somebody why won't he let me out I want mommy ... They'll never understand why I have to ... Oh wow this is ... Mon Dieu le ciel mais ou est le soleil?

Were the dead speaking aloud, or were the words echoes of their last thoughts? There were whimpers, groans and screams mixed in with the rest. There was laughter, too, and growls of rage, and sexual moans. It made Remus wonder what sound Sirius would have made while climbing this hill: a sound of anger or shock? Would he have made a sound at all? When he'd fallen, it had seemed silent.

Remus tried to listen for Sirius, just in case he was still here, but the whispers grew into full-voiced yells, until they were a blur of sound and Remus covered his ears, but kept climbing. His ears were aching, his eardrums about to burst, when he staggered past the statue of Justice. It was quiet again, and he collapsed, belly-down on the cold ground.

---

"The living aren't supposed to climb the hill," said a low, smooth voice. "Actually, I didn't think it was possible."

With effort, Remus lifted his head. There was man standing beside him, tall and burly, dressed in an elegant charcoal business suit.

"Minos?"

"At your service. And you are?"

"Remus Lupin."

Minos bent down and extended his right hand; Remus took it, wincing as he struggled to his feet. As he straightened his robes, he studied Minos from the corner of his eye. A distinguished, clean-shaven man, just past middle-age, with neat grey hair and a maroon tie. On earth, he could have been any successful barrister or CEO.

Remus recalled what Sybill had told him, on the banks of the Styx: Everything you'll see from here to Elysia will be exactly how you've always pictured it. Even if you didn't realise, before, that you pictured it that way.

Minos held out his hand again; it took Remus a moment to realise he should shake it. It was a warm, strong hand, but soft and smooth as a young man's: the hand of a powerful man who's never done physical work. Like a Western businessman, Minos held eye-contact throughout the handshake, and kept a disarming smile on his face.

"A pleasure to meet you," he declared, releasing Remus's hand. "It's a long time since anyone has paid me a visit, and even longer since I've seen a living human face."

"Well ... actually, I'm a werewolf," Remus found himself admitting. He hadn't planned to, but the words just slipped out. He pressed his fingers to his mouth, startled.

Minos's face lit up. "Even better," he said. "I don't think I've ever had the pleasure."

"But ... but ..." Remus stammered. He'd never received such a positive reaction before, not even from his friends at school. "I mean ..."

Minos gave him a hearty pat on the back. "Come, my friend," he said, guiding Remus towards the door of the courthouse. "We'll have some cigars, some brandy, and you can tell me your whole fascinating story."

"I'm not here for judgement," Remus managed. "I'm here because -"

"Oh, you've got nothing to fear from me," Minos chuckled. "I only judge the dead. But I enjoy a good yarn, and I know how to loosen a man's tongue."

---

Minos led him through the concrete and marble corridors of the courthouse, and up a flight of stairs to a heavy mahogany door. A brass plate read, simply, Minos. There were two other doors, but Remus couldn't read the names from where he stood.

"Who do they belong to?" he asked.

"My two brothers," Minos explained, as he opened his door. "They assist me with my duties, and we keep each other company. As you can imagine, this job can grow tiresome. The dead are a boring lot, always with the same complaints and protests."

The office was just what Remus had anticipated. All the furniture was mahogany: a heavy desk, two forest-green leather chairs with wooden arms, and bookshelves lining the walls. Everything was designed for comfort; the lights were dim and warm-yellow, and Remus's shoes sunk into the thick, light-green carpet as he walked inside. There were no windows, but the ceiling was high enough to avoid stuffiness.

"Come, sit down," said Minos, gesturing to one of the chairs. He walked over to a small cabinet, unlocked it, and took out a crystal decanter of brandy.

Remus declined with a polite wave of his hand. It was well-known that eating or drinking the produce of the Underworld would trap you there forever; at least, without intervention by the gods. Proserpine, now Queen of the sunless lands, had initially been kidnapped and dragged below by King Pluto. She would have escaped, if she hadn't eaten from a ripe, tempting pomegranate in his palace garden.

"Oh, of course!" Minos laughed. "Believe me, I'm not trying to poison you. It's just been such a long time. I suppose you can't have a cigar, either?"

"Better safe than sorry," said Remus, with a faint smile. "I'll eat one of my sandwiches."

Peanut butter, he thought, concentrating, as he rummaged through his pack. He took it out and set it on the desk in front of him, still wrapped in plastic.

Minos sat down, brandy in one hand and a cigar in the other. "So, what are you doing in the Underworld? I suppose you've brought the golden bough."

"All that remains of it."

"Ah, sad times. A new bough used to grow whenever it was plucked, but the tree was destroyed more than a thousand years ago." Minos took a sip of his brandy. "Fine stuff; it's a pity you can't drink it."

Remus cleared his throat, "Listen, Minos, I came here because there's something I want to ask you."

"Oh, I'm sure you do," mused Minos. "It's just that the last man who tried to climb the hill ... well, his head exploded. It was terribly messy, I'm afraid. Of course, the ravens soon finished him off, and I was able to speak with his spirit. He'd come here on a minor prophecy quest. I assume your mission is similar?"

"That's right," said Remus. "Unfortunately, I've no idea what the prophecy means. I haven't had much time to think about it, actually."

Minos leaned forward, a spark of interest in his warm brown eyes. "Well, go ahead! Tell me the prophecy."

"Two valued brothers have been lost; one roams the darkest region under daylight, while the other dwells in sunless lands. Only the wolf desires to follow the path of ancient heroes into darkness. He must seek the wizard who surpassed all others but could not fulfil his greatest wish. Together, they can petition the King to restore order."

"Hmm ..." Minos puffed away at his cigar for a moment, his brow crinkled in thought. "I honestly don't know what it means. Aside from the last part, of course."

"Together, they can petition the King to restore order? I assume it refers to the King of these lands, Pluto, but I could be wrong."

"No, you're right. He has many names, but Pluto will do. Just don't call him Satan - he doesn't like that."

"So, gaining an audience with Pluto will be the last stage of my journey?"

Minos chuckled. "Oh, don't worry about gaining an audience. Pluto's like me: he can be at a billion places at once. Once you reach his palace, he'll see you immediately. He can be stubborn, though, and a bit pig-headed; but I suppose all the gods are like that. You seem a diplomatic sort, but even you should watch your step around Pluto. Whatever you do, don't insult him."

"I'll keep that in mind."

They sat in silence, as Minos tried to puzzle out the prophecy, and Remus unwrapped his sandwich and began eating the first half.

"This is frustrating," Minos murmured, finally. "The last stage is simple, but how to reach that stage? First you need to find out who the two valued brothers are. Then, you need to speak to this wizard who surpassed all others. Or perhaps you can ask the wizard who the brothers are?"

"Or perhaps the key to the brothers is where they live. One is here, obviously, in the sunless lands. But what is the darkest region under daylight?"

"The bottom of the ocean?" asked Minos, raising his eyebrows. "I've no idea. I wish I could help you, but I'm afraid you're out of luck. I've seen a thousand male wizards who surpassed all others, many of whom weren't able to fulfil his greatest wish, so I can't solve that one either."

"Oh," said Remus, looking at his sandwich and trying to hide his disappointment. "Well, at least I know my destination. Now all I need is the journey."

He started to stand, clutching his half-eaten sandwich and his pack, but Minos stopped him with gesture.

"Wait a moment ... what about the part that says: Only the wolf desires to follow the path of ancient heroes into darkness? Why were you chosen for this journey, and why did you, in particular, want to come here? Perhaps you're seeking these brothers, or this wizard, and you haven't yet realised it."

"It's true that I'm seeking a man. Unfortunately, his brother...well, both of his brothers--one blood-related and one chosen--are deceased. They're certainly not at the bottom of the ocean."

"This man," Minos asked, "he was your lover?"

"He was," Remus replied. "Though we were separated for more than a decade."

"Ah," said Minos, nodding sagely. "A tragic love story. I've heard many of those, but never from a werewolf in love with a man. Love comes in many shapes and sizes. It's a miraculous thing." He sipped his brandy, with a small smile. "When I was human, I loved my wife very much ... and many other women too, of course ... and a few boys. I'm afraid I never found that one person, sought after by so many."

"Sometimes I wish I hadn't found him," Remus confessed. "He rarely intended to hurt me, but he's brought me more pain than pleasure."

"And yet, you seek him here. You would die for him."

"I would."

Minos nodded and pursed his lips. "Just remember, you can't bring him back to life. It will be tempting to attempt it, of course, but you shouldn't do it. Many have tried and failed. Always remember what happened to Orpheus."

"I've no intention of raising the dead."

"That's good," said Minos, nodding and relaxing back into his chair. "So, your lover ... what was his name?"

"Sirius Black."

Remus thought something changed in Minos's expression, but then it passed and he put it down to his imagination. Minos couldn't have recognised Sirius's name, after all; not out of all the billions of people he'd judged. No, there was nothing amiss.

"The dog star," said Minos, with his disarming smile. "What an interesting name. I've found that names often impact a person's character. Your Sirius ... did he like dogs?"

"Oh, yes," said Remus, setting his sandwich back on the desk. "Actually, he was an Animagus. He could transform into a dog, a great black one."

"Really? He was dog to your wolf and a star to your moon? What a match."

"I've always thought so," said Remus, with a fond smile. "Sirius was so much like a dog, too; always hungry for affection and attention. He loved very deeply and sometimes very stupidly, and though he was impulsive and quick to anger, he was also full of praise and empathy for his friends. Like a dog, he was a terrible enemy and the best kind of ally. But why am I telling you this?"

"I just have that effect on people," said Minos, with a wink. "Now, is there anything else you'd like to ask me?"

"Actually, that's all," said Remus. "I'll finish my sandwich, and then I'll be on my way."

He picked it up and drew it to his lips; but then he paused, frowning. The sandwich didn't smell right. Though it was still peanut butter in wholemeal bread, there was something off about it. A human nose probably wouldn't have detected the difference, but the wolf gave Remus a heightened sense of smell.

He realised Minos was watching him, intently, over the rim of his brandy. What on earth was going on?

---

Note: Charon alludes to the last lines of Robert Frost's poem Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening:
"The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep."