Acts Infernal

Yea, by the chastened jest alone
Will ghosts and terrors pass
And fays, or suchlike friendly things,
Throw kisses through the glass.
Vachel Lindsay

Outside Wayland's Smithy, full dark had fallen; Remus sat with his back to the fencepost, and also to the moon, working the chip of wood with his knife. In the distance, there was a familiar howl. He smiled bitterly.

Wolves survived in Britain, of course. That was the thing about true wolves. They always found ways to adapt -- to live with their circumstances, no matter how debased those circumstances were. They'd avoid humans, but if they had to they'd still dig in trash cans and eat from midden heaps. Because they were survivors.

Remus had learned a lot from wolves.

He stood to stretch, and walked to a nearby bush, obeying a call of nature that had very little to do with wolves at all. Sleepy and stiff, he didn't notice the two amber lights in the night until he was almost ready to walk away --

A wolf. Brindle. Bigger than most dogs. Bigger than most wolves.

"Oh," Remus said, backing away slowly. "Shit."

The wolf advanced, skin crawling back over its teeth. Remus saw a wary intelligence in its eyes. Wolves weren't supposed to attack humans unprovoked, he recalled, wolves were gentle creatures who hunted to eat and mated for life --

Apparently this wolf had not read the literature. It growled, moving forward. Look like a human, don't I, Remus thought. But I smell like a wolf. And I'm in your territory.

"Good wolf," he said, feeling extremely stupid. He refused to let his eyes leave the animal's face. "Good wolf -- " he'd left his knife and wand at the fencepost, if he could get back there --

The wolf snarled. Remus' eyes widened.

And then they turned yellow.

And then he snarled back.

The wolf stopped, and made an inquiring, almost frightened noise in its throat. Remus, fighting for control, snarled again. He'd never encountered an actual, living, willing-to-attack wolf as a human; apparently this very territorial, very male wolf was bringing out the beast --

"My place," he snarled. "My people."

The animal made another inquiring noise, beginning to scrabble backwards through the bushes.

"Mine," Remus growled, baring his teeth. He could feel that his canines had lengthened.

The wolf cowered, suddenly, and ran. Remus put his hand to his face, felt his teeth re-settle, knew his eyes were changing (because he could suddenly and amazingly see in colour again. He never got tired of that bit.)

"Still alpha," he said to himself, slightly smug.

***

Draco and Tom sat on the strange bed, Harry and Sirius on a low table nearby. A scruffy tabby cat sat on Draco's lap.

"Went through the mob like a bat out of hell," Tom said, indicating the cat. "If I wasn't one myself I'd say you've got a guardian angel. Dunno where the thing came from."

"I found it," Draco said softly. Sirius, who had been sitting very still, rubbed a hand across his forehead.

"We are agreed, let's just be clear, that we think killing Draco and me is a bad idea?" he said. Harry and Tom nodded. "I don't think I want eternal bliss. I've gotten rather used to being self-aware."

"We've got to get out of here," Harry said. "That's obvious, I mean."

"Tom can take us downriver," suggested Sirius. "You said that's how you came in?"

"It's not a revolving door, you know, you can't get out that way. Not unless Hades opens the gate himself." Tom shook his head. He was tearing and tying a length of drapery, re-securing his glove to his hand.

"You brought Malfoy out of Dis; can't you...?" Harry trailed off as Tom shook his head. He glanced sidelong at Draco, who looked as though he was death warmed over.

"We barely got out of it, too," he said. "I haven't got that much power."

They sat silently for a while, Draco stroking the cat in an absent sort of way.

"It's exciting, isn't it?" Tom asked suddenly. Harry and Sirius exchanged a look. "We could go out the way Sirius came in. I know where it is. I haven't tried, but..."

"Wouldn't work," Harry answered. "You can't go back. They told me so."

"It's the first place they'd look if they found us gone," Sirius added. Tom smiled.

"Well, we're foiled as soon as Hades finds out anyhow," he said. "He can go anywhere in the upper cities, you know. Just like that."

"The upper cities?" Harry said slowly.

"Nir and Dis. I mean if he wants to go to the lower cities he actually has to move there physically, same as we would. You've got Valhalla down there. And the lowest circle, you know. Big ugly angry demon chewing on the heads of three historical blokes." Tom paused. "I'm rambling again, aren't I?"

"There's a way out past the lowest circle, isn't there?" Harry asked. Sirius opened his mouth to speak, but saw that he was looking at Draco.

"It's how they escaped in the story," Draco mumbled.

"Past Satan?" Tom asked, blinking.

"Looks like you're getting your Dante after all, Malfoy," Harry said.

"How do we get there?" Sirius asked Tom, who shook his head.

"You're not serious," he said.

"Actually," Sirius said, a smile spreading across his face, "I am."

Tom covered his face with one hand, and laughed.

"That was distinctly not funny," he said, through his fingers. "There's a path behind the Museum, through the domain of the Muses. But you know the legends, don't you?"

Sirius' smile faded. "What legends?"

"Once we're on the path back to the Aboveway -- when we reach Cocytus -- that's when we officially leave Hades' realm. Harry has to lead us. He can't look back."

"It's the rules," Harry said solemnly.

"That's a stupid rule," Sirius pointed out.

"Most of them are," Tom sighed.

"Old magic," Harry murmured. "Superata tellus sidera donat."

Sirius turned sharply, to face him.

"Where did you hear that?" he demanded.

"It's a charm," Harry said, with a shrug. Sirius continued to stare at him. "Remus Lupin gave it to me before we came down."

The lines seemed to deepen on Sirius' face, his eyes seemed to sink further into his head.

"I have a couple of ideas," he said.

***

Poor Gaius never knew what hit him.

"I always wanted to do that, the smug bastard," Tom said, as Sirius stripped the soldier for his armour, and began to put it on.

"Who was he?" Harry asked curiously, helping to buckle the leather breastplate.

"Dunno. Some Roman bloke. Insufferable with his "Yes Emperor" and "I serve the Republic" and that.

"You're a bit vindictive, for an angel," Sirius observed, reaching for the dagger in Gaius' belt, the only actual weapon he carried. Tom's hand shot out and caught his wrist, and the brown-haired boy shook his head.

"Don't touch it," he said. "Our knives are our honour. Even I wouldn't take that from him."

Sirius nodded and continued to dress while Draco watched listlessly, and Tom and Harry watched Gaius. When he was ready, he spread his arms, and Tom nodded.

"You'll pass," he said. "Come on."

He led them through the twisting corridors of the Museum, past many more rooms than they'd seen even in arriving at their own room. When he finally ducked through a doorway and beckoned them on, they found themselves in a garden, behind the Museum; a clearing and round paved area, lined with benches, and lit with torches in the dim night.

There were figures seated on the benches -- women, in antique white robes, talking amongst themselves, the shadows flickering across their faces.

"Who are they?" Harry breathed.

"The nine muses," Tom replied. "They live here, behind the Museum. Not too loudly now -- "

He gave a little groan, for it was too late; the women had looked up and spotted them. As one, they chorused Tom's name, and stood, running forward to greet him. When he finally managed to disentangle himself, they stood together, facing the four men (and cat) with curiousity.

"Who're your friends, Tom?" one of them asked.

"They're handsome of face," another added.

"Sable boy and silver boy," said a third.

"And dark man and our Tom," said the first who'd spoken.

"They're alive."

"Surely not."

"Sable boy and silver boy surely are."

"I have visited the dark man," said one of them, a girl with arching eyebrows and cascading brown hair.

"Silence, all of you," said one who'd not yet spoken, and they all ceased to talk. She stepped forward and held out her hand; Tom bowed, pressing his forehead against it.

"Welcome to our home," she said to the others. "Tom is often our guest." She turned back to him with a smile. "We have changed our names, Tom."

"Oh yes, Calliope?" Tom asked. She wrinkled her nose.

"Imagine being Calliope for all eternity!" she exclaimed. "My name is Priscilla now."

"Priscilla?" Harry asked.

"Is there something wrong with that?" the muse replied, in a dangerous tone.

"No. No, nothing at all," Sirius said hastily.

"If my name were Euterpe," Tom began, but one of the women clapped her hands and cried out "Jenny!"

"I see," Tom murmured. "Urania?"

"Alice."

Sirius, leaning forward, spoke into Tom's ear. "Things are changing. There are more riots. We never had night before. And now this."

"It makes me uneasy," Tom whispered back, as the other girls announced their new names. "Something is wrong in the Lower Way. The muses are fickle, and if you call them by one name they'll change it, but not their first names, the oldest ones."

"I wanted to be Alice but Urania already took it, so I picked Allison instead," one of the women was saying.

"A good name, Clio," Tom replied, forcing a smile.

"Stay a while with us, Tom," said Erato, the woman who claimed to have visited Sirius, and who had declared herself to be Monica. "Or leave your friends to visit with us..."

A look of mild panic crossed Tom's face. "We really must be going," he said hastily. The muses parted, and he herded the others through the garden, towards the darkness.

"What were you saying about the Lower Way?" Harry asked. "I couldn't hear."

"The cities -- things are changing," Tom said quickly, as they walked through the gloom. "It could be because you're here. But I think...it's been coming for some time. I think it's the archway, it unbalances the nature of this place. Your coming just made it worse, that's all." He looked determined. "I'm coming with you to the Aboveway. The cities frighten me, and I'm tired of them. And something must be done about the arch."

"How much further?" Harry asked, after an uncomfortable silence. Tom pointed to where the road ahead of them ended in another steep cliff, guarded by two sentries in Roman armour.

"Past the Ianorum, down the Abyss and around Valhalla."

Sirius and Harry exchanged a sardonic look. "Is it me, or was that the dumbest sentence since 'second star to the right and straight on 'til morning'?" Harry asked.

"What's an Ianorum?" Sirius inquired, when Tom laughed. The boy pointed to the guards.

"They are."

The Ianorum crossed their spears.

"Can't we just...go around them?" Sirius asked.

"That doesn't really work," Tom replied. "Bloody stupid rules." He turned to Sirius, drawing his dagger. "There are two ways we can do this."

"Yes?"

"Charm, or brute force," Tom said firmly.

"I happen to be good at both," Sirius said with a grin. He stepped forward. "Ho, citizens."

"Ho," said one of the Ianorum.

"Ho, Citizen," the other one echoed. Sirius nodded.

"We require...passage," he said. "Er. On behalf of the Emperor."

"Passport," the first one snapped. Sirius rubbed the back of his head.

"What?"

"Got to have a passport to get through."

Harry dug quickly in his pocket, moving to stand next to Sirius. "All we've got is this," he said, holding out the Visitor's pass Tom had given him. The Ianorum looked confused.

"We can't accept this," one of them said.

"Oh, and then there's this," came Tom's voice, and one of the Ianorum found himself at the business end of Tom's dagger. Sirius, not to be outdone, cold-cocked the other one, knocking him to the ground. The first let his spear fall, and edged aside.

"Gee, this just gets more fun," Tom said, siding the dagger to one side as his elbow caught the remaining soldier full in the face.

***

"So how do I look?" Harry asked, adjusting the last strap on his new breastplate. Tom, who was kneeling to put boots on Draco's feet, grinned.

"It might throw them off for a few minutes, if they're looking for the sable boy," he replied.

"They?" Draco asked.

"It speaks!" Tom exclaimed. Draco pulled his cloak on over the military uniform, uninterested in Tom's mockery. The cat leapt into the hood of the cloak, peering out with narrow, slitted eyes.

"Let the lad alone," Sirius said.

"He did try to steal my knife, you know," Tom reproached.

"But he has a point," Harry said. Sirius looked at him. "I can't believe I just said that."

"Me either," Sirius replied.

"Thing is...who are the They that might be looking for us?"

Tom looked utterly nonchalant. "Anyone Hades chooses to send after us. From here, anyone wanting to come for us has got to get down the cliff and walk along the road just like we do. And if they're looking for the sable boy and they see a Roman soldier, they might pass us by. For a little while."

Sirius walked to the edge of the cliff, and looked down.

"Is there any way to get down it really, really fast?" he asked.

"Well, you could jump," Tom said.

"Would that work?"

"Not if you wanted to still be nominally alive at the end."

"What about your wings?" asked Harry. Tom stretched them, and they seemed more visible than usual; one of them was still stiff, but they didn't look quite as ragged as they had earlier.

"They don't work," he said sadly. "Never have. See?"

The wings flapped, wildly. He barely moved at all.

"Allegorical," he sighed. "And you can't use magic, it doesn't work here. Not for you, anyhow."

Sirius looked gloomy. "Figures. All right then. Harry, can you climb on your own?"

"I think so," Harry replied, checking the buckles on his uniform. Sirius turned to Draco.

"But you can't, can you?" he asked quietly.

"I could if I had to," Draco muttered.

"You're barely keeping upright," Tom pointed out. "For someone who's spent his whole life lying, you do an awfully bad job of it."

"Tom's going first," Sirius said, decisively. "He knows the way, and he might be able to stop us if we fall. I'll go next. I can carry Malfoy. We're big enough that Harry might have a chance, if he falls. Whatever happens, you cling on, Harry," he added.

"What if you fall?" Harry said quietly.

"I won't fall," Sirius replied.

"Look at it this way." Tom adjusted the makeshift straps on his glove, and grinned. "If you fall, you're already in the underworld. It'll save the trip, anyhow."

Harry and Sirius both looked at him.

"What? It's true," Tom laughed, and dropped one-handed over the edge, vanishing from view.

Sirius allowed Draco to wrap his arms around his shoulders, the blond boy's cowled head pressed against the back of his neck. He gave Harry a significant look before carefully crawling over the edge.

"This is not the heroic rescue I had in mind," Harry sighed, following Sirius as he began to find his first footholds in the cliff.

It wasn't difficult climbing, but it was precarious; Tom, moving like a natural and using his wings for balance if not for lift, was moving speedily down the rocky face, already well below Sirius and Draco. Harry, who could just barely detect Sirius out of the edge of his vision when he looked for footholds, thought that he could see the muscles knotting along Sirius' arms as the man climbed under the combined weight of himself and Malfoy, who was thin but not exactly small.

Harry, paying attention to Sirius, didn't notice when his fingers caught on a loose rock, and before he knew what had happened, the dirt had crumbled beneath his fingers, and he'd slipped away from the grips, and was falling --

There was a sudden jerk, and it felt as though his neck had snapped; he was dangling, in midair, listening to Sirius' heavy, even breathing.

Fingers brushed his neck, and he realised he was being held from falling by one hand, hooked in the collar of his shirt and a strap of his armour. He looked up along the arm until he saw Draco's face, turned to regard him. There was no pride or shame in the boy's face, no vindication or guilt. There wasn't anything. Not even mild interest.

Harry groped, slowly, for a handgrip; his left hand touched the rock, his right clinging to Sirius' shoulder.

"It wouldn't be a proper rescue if someone didn't slip at least once," Sirius rasped. "I can't carry both of you, Harry..."

Harry, now clinging to the rock again, saw that Sirius' fingers were bloody.

"Can you keep on?" Sirius asked.

"I think so," Harry said shakily, still staring at the bloody, lacerated fingers. "Can you?"

"Haven't a choice," Sirius grunted, beginning to climb again.

By the time they reached the bottom, Tom was sitting with his back to the rock, digging idly in the dirt with his dagger. Sirius dropped next to him, coughing with exhaustion, and Draco simply fell to the ground. Harry, glad to have his feet on solid ground again, bent over and let himself really and truly breathe for the first time since he'd fallen.

"Long road to Valhalla from here?" Harry asked, accepting a few strips of fabric torn from Tom's shirt, and tying them inexpertly around Sirius' bleeding hands. Sirius barely seemed to notice.

"Sounds like a song," the black-haired man murmured.

"A little ways, once we're on the main road. We could stop to rest properly there, I think. How's the silver boy?"

Harry glanced at Draco, whose face was screwed up in misery, under his cloak. The cat was rubbing its cheek against the back of his neck, and he reached back to scratch it absently.

"I think Dis has a hold on him," Sirius murmured. "I hope it ends when we get back to the surface."

"We should push on," Tom said. "Sooner or later Hades is going to find the soldiers."

"Won't take long," Sirius agreed. "Best get as far away as possible."

"Hades is a screamer. When he finds out, you'll know."

"Somehow, Tom, that's not very comforting," Sirius sighed. "Ta, Harry," he said, flexing his hands experimentally.

"Up in Nir we wouldn't be tired, would we?" Harry asked.

"This is the road to Valhalla," Tom replied. "Things are much more real, here. The people are more conscious."

They all looked up as an explosive crash sounded, far in the distance.

"Doesn't mean they're nice, of course," Tom added. Sirius dusted himself off, and pulled Draco to his feet.

"Tom's right. Let's get away from here," he rumbled. Draco found into step behind him, with Harry. Tom kept a little ahead, leading the way.

"Thanks, by the way," Harry said, as they walked. Draco didn't reply. "For catching me, I mean."

Silence.

"That was the first halfway decent thing I've ever seen you do." He waited. "It's polite to say 'you're welcome', you know."

"It was instinct," Draco snapped, his voice hoarse. He coughed. "Don't push your luck."

He stumbled, then, and Harry put out a hand to catch him, only to find the other boy shrugging out of his grip, angrily.

"Don't touch me," Draco snarled. "Let me alone!"

Harry saw something feral in his eyes, something not quite human. Tom and Sirius had stopped, and turned to watch.

"All right, Harry?" he asked. "Malfoy?"

Harry eyed Draco warily. "We're fine," he said. "I think."

***