Atlantis Reborn, The Hollow Inn

A dark shadow passed over the moon as a large bird swooped out of the clouds, wings spread wide, feathers rippling in the wind. The bird circled overhead for a few minutes then dived sharply, its sleek feathered body plunging towards the river like a bullet. At the last possible moment the bird changed course, lifting up seconds before it collided with the water, a gust of wind sending it gliding over the surface of the river towards the small harbour nestled on the edge of the shore. The bird climbed higher into the sky, past the boats docked at the port and over the long strip of parkland stretched along the river bank and then down into the narrow streets nestled between the large steel and glass office buildings of the metropolitan city.

The bird shot down the artificial canyons, past the cars and trucks clogging the roads down below, its reflection racing after it in the multiple windows staring at the bird like glass eyes from the tall buildings surrounding the creature on all sides. The bird weaved from left to right through the labyrinth of buildings, manoeuvring through the traffic with ease, the pale orange light from the multiple street lamps lining the roads glistening off its back.

Once it was out of the confines of the central hub, the bird swooped down into a long street lined with strip clubs and tattoo parlours, attracting several stares from the crowds of people wandering up and down the sides of the road as the bird made its way to a large abandoned warehouse located at the end of a darkened alleyway opposite a street lamp.

The bird settled on top of the polished metal pole then folded its wings behind its back, its round shiny eyes fixed on the front of the alleyway as a long black limousine pulled into the narrow passageway with its headlights switched on. A black cat dashed out from behind a pair of garage cans as the car rolled to a stop beneath the street lamp then switched off its engine, its headlights powering down. The bird opened its curved beak and gave a loud squawk as a man dressed in a long black trench coat opened the passenger’s side door of the limousine and stepped out into the street. The bird flapped its wings slightly as if it might fly at the stranger’s face, its beady eyes locked on the man intently.

A gust of wind whipped down the alleyway, the blast of air flinging up pieces of rubbish and dried leaves and spinning them across the pavement in little whirling eddies around the man’s feet. The raptor ruffled its feathers as the street lamp it was perched on creaked from side to side in the passing breeze causing the dust flecked light bulb screwed into the lamp to sputter then die out drenching the alleyway in darkness, the loss of light shielding the man from view.


The bird lifted its head up sharply, the feathers on its chest rising like hackles as the sound of feet crunching against gravel echoed inside the narrow passage, the noise growing louder and louder until suddenly silenced directly beneath the street lamp. In that moment the entire city seemed to fall quiet, even the sound of the traffic outside the alleyway seemed to drift away, until there was only the sound of the soft rhythmic breathing of the man standing next to the street lamp to be heard. The silence stretched on for a couple of minutes longer before being broken by a loud humming noise followed by dozens of hissing sparks as the light bulb attached to the lamp flared back to life throwing the man’s face into bright light as he slowly withdrew his hand away from the side of the metal pole, the corners of his mouth lifting into a smile as tiny forks of electricity sizzled and zapped between his fingers, the brief display of power instantly separating him from the thousands of other people wandering the city streets as someone not of the mortal world.
“Hermes,” cried the bird, snapping its beak together. “Hermes! Hermes! Hermes!” the raptor hopped from left to right as it spoke, its wings spread out to full length to gain attention. Hermes lifted his foot and took a step backwards.

“Greetings,” he said softly, tilting his head back to stare at the bird perched on top of the lamp. A gust of wind blew past causing the long thin tails of the trench coat he was wearing to whip around his legs for a couple of moments.
“I trust we were not followed?” asked Hermes, hooking his thumbs into his pockets. Instead of answering, the bird swooped down from the top of the lamp and landed on his shoulder, its long sharp talons digging deep into his flesh causing Hermes to wince in pain.

The raptor squawked and ruffled its wings, its round shiny eyes glowing with intelligence. Hermes turned his head towards the bird and gave a thin smile. “You were not followed? Good…good…” He raised his hand and stroked the raptor’s long feathered neck with his fingers.

“I’m afraid I must ask for you to wait outside for me, my pet.” He reached into his coat and pulled out a small package wrapped in a piece of cloth. “You must stand guard in the alleyway in case anything happens to me while I am inside the building.” He unfolded the layers of fabric then reached inside and lifted up a long thin strip of dried meat for the bird to eat. “I do not know what will happen when I encounter the Erinyes,” he placed the piece of meat in the centre of his palm then extended his hand towards the bird.

“Watch out for me,” he whispered as the raptor bent down to snatch the slice of red meat up with its beak. The bird gobbled up the strip of dried food then turned and cast a look at his face, its eyes communicating more then words ever could, after a couple of minutes the raptor swung away and took flight into the star studded sky, leaving behind nothing but a loose feather floating towards the ground.

Hermes turned in a full circle under the light of the street lamp as he attempted to locate the bird’s hiding place among the surrounding buildings inside the alleyway. He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. ---My pet? He called out to the bird through the telepathic link the two of them shared. ---Are you still here? He did a long, slow, swoop of the interior of the alleyway with his eyes. ---Answer me.
Hermes licked his bottom lip with the tip of his tongue as he received a wave of mental images inside his head from the bird in response. He could feel the raptor’s piercing gaze staring at him from out of the shadows silently tracking
Hermes’s movements as he wandered up and down the length of the narrow passage with his hand clenched around a cane.

Chuckling softly, Hermes stopped and leaned his hip against a wall then reached into his coat pocket and pulled a pair of leather gloves over his fingers. “Very well,” he said into the empty alleyway, his shoulders shaking with silent laughter. “Stay hidden if that is your wish.” He raised his hand towards his head and pulled off the hat that he was wearing in one smooth motion causing his long black hair to spill over his shoulders and frame the sides of his face.

“Just make sure that you keep an eye out for anyone…” he broke off in the middle of his sentence, his gaze lowering towards the pavement as he leaned down and slapped the hat against his thigh then placed it back on top of his head.
“Or anything that might have followed us into the city.” He stopped and sent a quick gaze around the alley, his mind reaching out towards the bird in a mental push. The raptor responded with a single squawk from deep within the shadows, the sound echoing off the walls inside the passage so that for a moment it seemed to come from all directions at once.

“Good,” said Hermes, lacing his fingers over the top of his cane. “That’s settled then. As for me, its time I completed my task.” He glanced from left to right down the alleyway, his brow furrowed in thought. It did not take long for him to locate a secret wooden door built into the wall near the lamp. As he stared closer at the hidden gateway the invisible shield projecting an image of solid bricks in front of the door to confuse any unsuspecting mortals who might wander past began to flicker and then after a couple of moments disappeared revealing a large weather beaten sign nailed above the door that read in big bold letters:

The Hollow Inn
EST: 1895

A Night Club for Demons, Angels, Fairies, Spirits, Witches, Warlocks, Mythological Beasts, Gods, Goddesses and Politicians.

No Humans Permitted.

The Hollow Inn was one of the few buildings built in the city of Perth specifically designed to remain invisible from human beings at all times. The centuries old establishment was one of the few places within the modern metropolis that the small percentage of the population living in the city that was not human could come and enjoy a live entertainment act without the risk of their true identity being discovered after they chugged down a couple of beers and got drunk.
In a world that forced most immortal beings to trade in their winged chariots and sacred sceptres for business suits and lap top computers in order to blend in among the crowd and not cause suspicion, any business that catered exclusively to non-humans, no matter how seedy it might be, was eagerly sought after by the local immortals in the community.

In a city as small as Perth, it made sense that the Erinyes would be found in the one place within the city limits where three immortal assassins could sit down and have a beer without half the men in the room pausing to stare open mouthed at their breasts. Hermes grinned as he thought back to the last mortal man who had been foolish enough to approach Tisiphone, the eldest of the Erinyes, in the corner of a dark smoky tavern in an attempt to kiss the powerful young goddess one night in France during the second world war. Tisiphone, who had been in the disguise of a young nurse at the time, had stepped into the crowded pub to try and locate a man Zeus had sent the young assassin to bring back to him. Her two sisters, Megaera and Alecto, had chosen to wait outside while Tisiphone conducted her business inside the crowded tavern.

Hermes, who had been sipping a glass of wine on a stool next to the bar at the time, would never forget the sudden silence that had fallen over the group of drunken sailors gathered inside the tavern when Tisiphone stepped in from the rain wearing nothing but a soaked nurses uniform. It had not taken long for one of the sailors, a young plucky boy barely into his twenties who had just arrived on a ship from America, to wander over and offer to purchase Tisiphone a drink from the bar. When Tisiphone politely refused and tried to move past the intoxicated man, the sailor grabbed hold of her wrist and pulled her against his chest then reached down and ripped open the buttons of the dress exposing her bare breasts for the entire room to see.

Tisiphone lifted her foot and took a step backwards, hands clenched into fists, her beautiful features twisted in hatred as the crowd of people inside the tavern laughed and pointed at her naked breasts as if she were a prostitute. When the sailor who had ripped open her dress leaned forward to attempt to kiss her, Tisiphone raised her hand and punched him in the face knocking him backwards several steps into a wooden table causing a shocked silence to fall inside the room.
Ignoring the frightened stares coming from the men and women standing all around her, Tisiphone bent down and tightened her fingers around the sailor’s throat then slowly rose to her feet lifting the young solider off the ground with a single hand so that he dangled in the air like a fish caught on a hook. “Apologise,” she growled, her voice little more then a whisper. Choking and sputtering, the man laughed and rubbed a finger across her cheek. “I like my women rough.” He then passed out and fell onto the floor. Tisiphone stared down at his unconscious body with her hands on her hips for a couple of moments, muttered something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like “Mortals…” then turned towards the door in her tattered dress and disappeared into the night never to be seen or heard from in the tiny village ever again leaving the people of the town with unanswered questions for decades about the mysterious young woman dressed as a nurse who walked in from the rain one night and brought down a man twice her size in the local tavern with her bare hands.

There were some who believed she had been a Nazi spy of some sort sent to gather information about the French military, others became convinced that she never existed at all and that the whole event was nothing but a story invented by a group of drunken sailors and then there were some who swore they saw the young nurse vanish into thin air outside the tavern with two other women dressed in similar clothing.


If only they knew the truth, thought Hermes. The man who ripped open her dress that night was lucky not to have been killed on the spot. If Tisiphone had not been in a room full of mortals at the time she most likely would have ripped his throat out. Hundreds of people, many of them warriors, have died attempting to escape from the Erinyes after I gave the assassins orders from Zeus to capture the poor souls.

Hermes cocked his head to the side, one hand grasped around his cane the other pressed against his hip as he gazed at the front entrance of the night club through narrowed eyes. I never would have thought the day would come when I would send the Erinyes after a defenceless little boy.

He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair as a gust of wind blew down the alleyway. I guess that’s not completely true, he thought to himself. Despite being raised to believe he is a human being, Dylan Thatcher is undoubtedly the long lost son of Poseidon which means, as an Olympian, he should possess all of the traits and abilities of our family, he just isn’t aware how to use his gifts to their full extent. I just hope Clymene gets to him before the Erinyes manage to track him down. If the assassins hurt him…Hermes swore and shook his head from side to side, his face shadowed with guilt.

“I hate this…” his gaze shifted towards the ground, his lashes sweeping down to veil the inner turmoil circling in his eyes like storm clouds drifting over the ocean. “Three thousand years have passed and I am still running messages for Zeus like a trained dog.” He pressed his hand against his cheek and breathed a long heavy sigh as he thought back to the look of fear on Clymene’s face when he had told her of Zeus’s plan to bring the Erinyes in to track down Poseidon’s son.
The Erinyes were merciless, cold blooded assassins, trained to track down their prey to the far corners of the planet for decades, even centuries, until they either captured or killed the unfortunate individual. Once the Erinyes were sent after someone, they did not stop, would not stop until their task was done. The assassins moved as smoke, answering to no one except Zeus, their lord and master.

There was a time thousands of years ago in the past when the Erinyes would have also taken orders from Zeus’s estranged wife, Hera. The assassin’s loyalty towards their master’s wife was so unwavering the goddesses did not blink an eye when the vengeful queen ordered them to track down and rip apart Dionysus, one of Zeus’s own children, after an indication that had transpired between the two of them at a banquet in honour of the discovery of Poseidon’s soul mate, Cleito.
Furious but ultimately unwilling to banish the Erinyes for their act of violence against his son, Zeus decided to forbid the assassins to take orders from Hera ever again. The assassins were then forced to take an oath on pain of death to obey only two people, Zeus and his trusted messenger Hermes, otherwise known as the winged one.

In the centuries that had passed since the attack on Dionysus, Hermes had lost count of the number of times he had travelled across the globe in search of the illusive assassins to give them their latest assignment from Zeus.
In his time as messenger Hermes had sent the Erinyes after hundreds of people, from petty criminals to demonic overlords, each one having angered Zeus in some way, but he had never sent the assassins after a teenage boy, doing so would be like expecting a small kitten to defend itself against a pride of lions, the young cat would be killed before it had a chance to fight back against the stronger predators.
Zeus knew this which was why, before now, he had never sent the Erinyes after someone so young, until the discovery of Poseidon’s son. Despite receiving strict orders from Zeus to inform the Erinyes to bring the boy back to Mount Olympus unharmed, Hermes knew how poorly the assassins could be trusted not to result to violence while on the hunt.

In a strange way, it was almost as if the goddesses thought more like a pack of wolves, once they caught the scent of the person they were after all thought and reason vanished from their minds except for the strong urge to complete the hunt at all costs. Hermes sighed and closed his eyes as his thoughts turned to Poseidon locked inside the walls of his castle in Atlantis hundreds of miles beneath the surface of the ocean still unable to overcome the death of his soul mate.
A long time ago, centuries before the birth of Cleito, Poseidon had been feared and worshipped across the mortal globe. The events of the past three thousand years had changed him so that he was a now nothing but a mere shadow of the mighty warrior recorded in the ancient Greek myths, so much so it was almost as if a small piece of his soul had withered and died when Cleito had perished in his arms.
Hermes had always been close to his uncle Poseidon ever since he was a small boy, which was why after Zeus went mad and murdered Cleito, Hermes had felt compelled to turn spy against his father to help Poseidon track down his missing son in an effort to help relieve the guilt he felt over his father’s actions. It seemed almost cruel that after thousands of years of secretly searching for the boy Hermes was now being forced to bring in the Erinyes, three goddesses of destructive power, to hunt down the child he had been struggling to locate for so long.

“Forgive me,” he whispered as Poseidon’s face swum inside his mind. Hermes blinked his eyes as something wet obscured his vision then turned his attention back onto the door leading into the night club. “In and out,” he muttered under his breath. Ignoring the sounds of the traffic coming from outside the alleyway, Hermes knocked against the entrance of the Hollow Inn three times with his fist.
There was a short pause then the sound of footsteps as someone approached the door on the other side and thrust a key into a lock. Hermes linked his fingers around his cane as a narrow wooden slat slid open at the top of the door.
“Greetings,” he said as a large red eye peered out at him through the thin opening. “Allow me to introduce myself,” he lifted his chin into the air. “I am Hermes, son of Zeus the ruler of the Greek Gods. I demand to be let in at once!” he reached into his pocket and pulled out a wad of hundred dollar bills. “I can make it worth your while…” he shoved the bundle of paper notes back inside his coat as the wooden slat was suddenly pulled shut. “How rude,” said Hermes, chuckling.
He was about to raise his hand to knock again when the door swung open unexpectedly as an eight foot tall one eyed man with no hair stepped out into the alleyway holding nothing but a long scroll of parchment in his hands.
The man stared down at Hermes with his single red eye and frowned. “I am called Og,” he said in a deep guttural voice. “I have checked my list for your name, Hermes son of Zeus,” he tapped a long thin fingernail against the scroll. “It is not there. I am forbidden to allow any patrons to enter the Hollow Inn who are not on the list,” said Og, folding his large beefy arms across his chest. “Leave now before I am forced to crush your tiny body, son of Zeus.” He gave a small nod causing his triple chins to wobble. Hermes grinned in response, the quick boyish smile causing his eyes to light up in amusement.

“Crush my tiny body?” he shook his head from side to side, laughter spilling out, the notes soft and laced with arrogance. “Unlikely,” he said with a sneer, tapping his foot against the ground. “I am Hermes, the winged one, remember?” He raised his eyebrows then stepped out from under the light of the lamp and began to circle the one-eyed man with his hand clutched around his cane. Og frowned and looked away, hands pressed flat at his side, his expression hardening into an impassive mask. Hermes chuckled low in his throat.


“If it wasn’t for this job, you’ll probably be sitting under a bridge chewing on chicken bones somewhere, wouldn’t you?” his eyes flashed at the ogre, daring him to disagree, Og stared straight ahead and did not respond. Hermes turned his head away, his gaze downcast. “I know what you must be thinking right now…” he paused as a passing breeze tugged at his trench coat causing the garment to whip around his legs for the second time in an hour. Og glared at him through his single eye. “And what might that be?”

Hermes returned his gaze without flinching. “Who is this person? How dare he speak to me in such a manner?” he lifted his chin a notch. “I should cut out his tongue and eat his liver!” he shouted in a booming voice, his shoulders shaking with laughter. “Oh, if only that were possible. The world was a much more simpler place back in the dark ages, wouldn’t you agree?” he tipped his head to one side and raised an eyebrow at the one-eyed man. “Think about it. Men could slaughter other men in the name of honour and women were worth no more the cattle.” He sighed and clapped his hands together.

“Alas,” He turned away, his fingers taping against his walking stick in a slight rhythm as he continued to slowly circle the ogre. “We no longer live in the dark ages, do we?” He smiled and shook his head. “Oh no, things have changed, murder is frowned on now and women have the same rights and privileges as men.” Hermes’s gaze shifted towards Og, the corners of his eyes crinkling as his mouth curved into a smirk. “I’ve never admitted this to anyone before but the truth is…” he snapped his teeth together before he could finish his sentence, his expression darkening as he lifted his foot and took a step closer towards the ogre.
“I hate this modern world,” said Hermes, his voice quivering with hysteria. “It is so cold and barren, full of computers and gadgets, all of the ancient forests are gone, replaced with over populated cities full of pollution and waste,” he lowered his gaze to the ground. “No one believes in the old magic anymore,” he sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “I guess that was to be expected, huh?”
He lifted an eyebrow at Og then chuckled and turned his head away, hands clenched into fists, his long black hair tumbling down over his shoulders to veil his expression.

“Why hold onto the past when it continues to slip further and further away each day? There was a time when thousands of people worshipped me all across the globe, now I am no one, another faceless man in a suit with a company to control.”
He shot a glance at Og over his shoulder. “I tried to blend in…” he moved another step closer. “To adapt to the changes…” he was standing less then a couple of inches in front of the ogre now. “But you know what?” said Hermes, dropping his voice to a whisper. “I recently realised something…” he tore his gaze away from Og as he bent down and smacked the top of his walking stick with his hand causing a hidden blade inserted into the cane to spring out of the bottom with a soft metallic hiss. Hermes lifted his head and smiled at the look of shock on the ogre’s face.
“I much prefer the dark ages,” he said with a chuckle. The look of amusement in Hermes’s eyes quickly hardened into an icy resolve as he raised the cane and plunged it into the ogre’s chest like a spear before the one eyed man could have a chance to defend himself. Og staggered backwards with a howl of pain as the blade attached to the cane pierced through his chest like a fishing hook shattering his ribs and puncturing several organs. Gasping and sputtering, the ogre pressed itself against a brick wall for support then focused its single eyeball on Hermes. “Why, you…” Og raised his hand to his mouth as a fit of coughing seized control of him.
Hermes strode forward and wrenched the cane out of the ogre’s chest with a single tug then retreated back a step as a fountain of blood gushed out of the ogre’s stab would spraying the ground in glistening black droplets. Og peered down at the blood staining his clothes then collapsed onto the ground unconscious. It would be several hours before the ogre awoke again, as an immortal being something as trivial as a stab wound to the heart would not kill him, it would only incapacitate him for a couple of hours, giving Hermes more then enough time to conduct his business inside the Hollow Inn and then leave before the ogre awoke and tried to locate him.


Hermes reached into his pocket and tossed a gold coin onto the ground next to the ogre. “For your trouble,” he stepped over Og’s unconscious body as he reached towards the door leading into the Hollow Inn and turned the handle.
A bright light switched on above his head as he stepped in through the open doorway into a dome-shaped room on the other side. Hermes turned and looked over his shoulder as the door leading out into the alleyway swung shut with a loud crash then vanished into the wall trapping him inside the circular chamber. A crackle of static sounded in the air inside the tight confines of the room as an automatic intercom system switched on. “Greetings,” said a female voice.
The sound was so crisp and clear Hermes turned in a full circle inside the room with a frown on his face, uncertain whether he was listening to a real person speaking to him over a microphone or a recording designed to air when a person stepped in through the door. “Hello?” the word had barely left his lips when the female voice returned over the intercom.

“Welcome to the Hollow Inn. It is the policy of Ares Olympiad, the proprietor of this establishment, for all people visiting the Hollow Inn to please remove any talismans, magic sceptres, wands, knives, guns or death rays into the chute provided before entering the premises.”

A gleaming metal shaft rose out of the floor in front of Hermes’s feet. “Failure to dispose of any of the items described,” continued the woman over the intercom. “Will result in banishment to the fifth dimension. You have sixty seconds, beginning countdown. One…two…three…four…five…six…”
Hermes looked down at his walking stick and sighed.

“I hope Ares will give this back to me,” he dropped the cane down the chute then looked around the room in an effort to locate the intercom. “Ten…eleven…” the woman fell silent.
“Scanning,” she said. Hermes rolled his eyes as a small black pistol lowered down from the ceiling. “Is this really necessary?” he grumbled under his breath as a small red laser shot out of the pistol to scan him for weapons. Hermes raised his arms above his head and sighed as the narrow beam did a long slow sweep around the room. After a couple of minutes the beam shut down as the pistol rose back into the ceiling.

“Search complete,” said the woman. “No hidden weapons detected. Please report to security to collect your items when leaving the premises at the end of the night.” The intercom clicked silent. Hermes stared in dismay around the room.
The door had still not reappeared leaving him trapped inside the spherical shaped chamber. “Now what am I…” his voice rose into a high pitched gasp as the floor suddenly dropped out from beneath him. “Ares!” screamed Hermes, the shout of rage whipped from his mouth as he began to plummet down a long narrow shaft. He descended down the tunnel so rapidly the walls seemed to close in around him on all sides giving him the unpleasant sensation of being sucked down a drain pipe. Hermes felt a large knot rise into his throat as the tight confines of the tunnel caused his heart to begin to pound in panic. “Damn you Ares…” he growled through gritted teeth. His brother knew he hated tight spaces which was why, most likely, the trap door had opened beneath his feet instead of a proper door appearing for him to walk through.

Ares had always been a practical joker for as far back as Hermes could remember. Hermes had always tolerated his half-brother’s antics because he knew it was Ares’s way of trying to gain attention from their father Zeus, whom for some strange reason had taken an instant dislike of Ares from the moment he had been born. Over the years, as rumours of Zeus’s trust and dependence on Hermes as his official messenger started to spread across the globe, Ares had grown bitter and jealous of Hermes’s relationship with their father.


The two brothers had been distant from each other ever since, Ares the black sheep and Hermes the favourite son. The unmistakable sound of male laughter suddenly echoed inside Hermes’s head. ---You? The favourite son? Don’t make me laugh said Ares as he reached out to his half-brother through a mental link. ---You’re nothing but Zeus’s trained dog, rushing off to deliver messages so you can get a pat on the head. I know you seek the Erinyes, lucky for you they happen to be here tonight. Use your damn wings then come and meet me on the dance floor. Ares laughed then broke away, the sound of his voice growing fainter and fainter inside’s Hermes’s head as the telepathic link between the two brothers slowly faded.


Rolling his eyes, Hermes did as his brother suggested and clicked his heals together. A pair of tiny gold wings unfolded from his ankles causing his rapid fall down the chute to slow into a gentle descent as if he were nothing more then a feather floating towards the ground. A woman with a pair of pointed elf ears came rushing over to greet him with a clip board in her hands as Hermes drifted down out of the shaft onto a rubber mattress spread out beneath the chute for visitors to land on. “Greetings,” said the woman, hugging the clipboard against her chest. “I am called Sasha,” she extended her hand for him to shake. “Welcome to the Hollow Inn. How may I help you tonight?” she asked in a sickly sweet voice.
Hermes’s icy gaze lingered on her face for a moment then turned away, dismissing her as he bent down to brush away the cobwebs clinging to his clothes from his fall down the chute.

Sasha’s frowned and lowered her arm to her side, she had dealt with difficult customers before, this man would be no different. “Are you here to rent out one of our rooms for the night?” she cocked her head to the side, her face forming the mask of trained curiosity she always wore to entice a potential customer. “Or would you like to visit one of the entertainment rooms or gambling parlours instead?” A flicker of annoyance passed over her face as Hermes continued to pat down his clothes, deliberately ignoring her question.
Sasha pursed her lips together, her mind racing to figure out what the man desired, after a couple of minutes she lowered her gaze to the ground as a glint of gold caught her attention. Her bright elfin eyes locked onto the pair of tiny wings attached to Hermes’s ankles before she could stop herself. She gasped and lifted her head to stare at his face, her mind thinking back to a list containing names and pictures of gods and goddesses, most of them from Greece, that Ares had pinned to the wall inside the staff room a couple of weeks ago instructing all of the Hollow Inn employees to inform him right away if any of the people on the list entered the building in an attempt to locate him. Sasha had read the list carefully, putting a good portion of the names to memory, much more then others had done, she hadn’t realised that the man standing in front of her was on the list until she had looked down at the wings on his feet, now that she had done so there was no doubt in her mind of the man’s true identity.


“Hermes Olympiad,” said Sasha in a stern voice. “You are forbidden to enter these premises by order of Ares Olympiad, the owner of the Hollow Inn. I must inform you that if you do not leave the building immediately I will be forced to call security…” Sasha took a step backwards, eyes widening, as Hermes leaned forward and pressed a finger against her lips.
“Ssh…” he rubbed his thumb across her cheek then laughed and lowered his gaze to the pair of platform shoes she was wearing on her feet. Sasha stiffened in outrage as Hermes slowly lifted his head to study the rest of her appearance, his eyes taking in every inch of her elfin frame from her long thin legs, narrow hips, smooth white skin, pale blue eyes and then finally to her silken hair. Sasha’s cheeks flooded with colour as Hermes’s eyes locked onto the swell of her breasts visible at the top of the cocktail dress that she was wearing.
“Sir?” she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I suggest that you leave now before security arrives,” she lifted her chin into the air. “I know that you are Ares’s brother…” Sasha’s breath escaped her mouth in a faint gasp as Hermes touched her cheek with a fingertip.

“That’s right,” he said, lowering his hand to the side of her neck right over her leaping pulse. “I am one of Ares’s brothers. I assume you are telepathic, correct?” he arched an eyebrow at the young elf causing her to blush.
“Yes, of course,” said Sasha, in a slightly offended voice. “All of the employees at the Hollow Inn possess telepathic skills, its one of the requirements we must have,” her mouth curved into a smirk as she reached into his mind.
---Among other things her voice echoed inside his head then pulled away sharply before he could respond in the same manner. Hermes frowned. “A little suggestion, my young friend, the next time someone on Ares’s little list walks into the building…that’s right,” he said softly, the corners of his mouth curving into a sneer as all of the colour drained from Sasha’s face in shock at his words.
“I overheard your thoughts about the list my brother made of all the people banned from this place,” he pointed a finger at her as if she were a small child. “A word of advice, try to keep your thoughts a little more concealed next time, you never know who might be listening.” Hermes chuckled and folded his arms across his chest. “You look outraged. If you just take a moment to reach out to Ares’s telepathically, he will confirm that he has given me special permission to search the building for three immortal assassins known as the Erinyes.”
Hermes could tell from Sasha’s sharp intake of breath that she had heard of the goddesses reputation. “He said they were on the dance floor, is this true?” Hermes saw the slight tremble of her shoulders, the lines of concentration crinkling her brow as she closed her eyes and reached out to Ares with her mind. After a couple of minutes Sasha lifted her lashes and sighed. “Its true,” she touched her bottom lip with the tip of her tongue. “Ares told me to bring you into the Higher Being room at the end of the hall,” she dug her fingernails into her palms. “He said you will find the Erinyes in there, my apologises.” She bent forward in a small bow then turned away, her lashes fluttering as her cheeks burned with colour.

“This way,” said Sasha in a pleasant voice, her anger and suspicion buried beneath the firm smile fixed on her face. “Its just down here…” she strode off down the hall with her arms grasped around the clipboard, her long silver hair swishing behind her shoulders with each step. Hermes marched after the young elf in pursuit a couple of steps in the rear.

The interior of the Hollow Inn consisted of a long corridor lined with dozens of wooden doors, each one labelled with a metal plaque nailed into the wood inscribed with a single word to identify the individual rooms located out of sight beyond each of the doors. Sasha swept down the hallway with her head held high, her cocktail dress clung to her figure as she walked, the soft folds of fabric swishing behind her thighs as she lead Hermes deeper down the hallway towards a room at the far end. All along the passageway dozens of candles flickered within alcoves carved into the walls, casting long dark shadows over the inscriptions etched into the plaques on the doors causing the words to stand out briefly before fading back into darkness moments later.


Hermes wandered down the passageway in a daze, his eyes flickering from left to right as he struggled to read each of the engravings inscribed into the plaques as he passed them. “Fairies…Nereids…Figona…” his eyebrows shot up in surprise.
“Vampires?” he wheeled away, his gaze shifting back onto Sasha. “You cater for vampires here? Is that what all of the names on the doors are for?” he choked back a sudden laugh. “They’re clients?” he paused as the sound of Irish dance music drifted out from behind a door marked Leprechauns.
A small laugh escaped Sasha’s throat. “Of course,” she cast a glance at him then looked away, shoulders straight, her gaze directed straight ahead. “The Hollow Inn exists in a slightly different dimension then the rest of the city, its necessary to keep the local mortal population from discovering our existence,” she spoke in a calm, polite voice, as if she had repeated the same information a dozen times in the past.


“It also provides us with the opportunity to create unique environments for each of our clients to come and enjoy a show and a couple of drinks every evening,” she stopped walking unexpectedly, almost causing Hermes to bump into her from behind. A flush of colour spread to his cheeks as Sasha’s head turned slightly, her lashes fluttering as her gaze flickered over her shoulder to look at his face.
“A word of advice,” she flashed a small smile at him. “Don’t go into the vampire room tonight unless you want your neck bitten by a group of half naked women with a fondness for whips and collars,” she laughed then swung away, her long silver hair falling in silken waves down her back as she continued down the hall. A couple of minutes later she stopped outside a door marked The Higher Being Room.
“After you…” she leaned forward and wrapped her fingers around the door handle, gave it a small twist, then stood back as the door swung open into a room full of flashing lights and loud pumping music. Hermes pulled out a hundred dollar note from his pocket. “For your trouble…” he bent forward and slipped the note into the cleavage visible at the top of the cocktail dress that Sasha was wearing then laughed and turned away, his tall handsome frame vanishing into a cloud of swirling white mist drifting out through the open door as he stepped into the nightclub. The door closed shut behind him with a loud bang, no doubt from Sasha, who had not seemed very pleased when he had given her the hundred dollar bill.
Hermes chuckled then moved deeper into the nightclub, manoeuvring through the crowds of people to a small table located in the shadows in the far corner of the room. He pulled out a chair and sat down with his back pressed against the wall, propped his legs onto the top of the table, then leaned back to study his surroundings with his arms crossed behind his head. The Higher Being room was large, almost three stories high and lit with coloured lights attached to exposed beams in the roof high above the floor.

The scent of cigarette smoke and sweat was everywhere, the intoxicating stench was so strong, so overpowering, Hermes placed a hand in front of his mouth and coughed as the aroma caused his lungs to begin to burn. He lifted his head moments later as a man and woman holding hands knocked into this table while walking past, the couple glanced at him briefly then disappeared back into the crowd.

Hermes narrowed his eyes as he struggled to watch the pair through a thin cloud of smoke, but it was no use, the haze seemed to wrap around his body so that his vision started to blur. Hermes rubbed his hands over his eyes then turned away, directing his gaze over the side of the balcony down to the dance floor on the bottom level. From his position near the edge of the balcony, he could see everything down below, from the band performing on a raised wooden platform at the front of the room to the mass of people, most of them men and women, rocking their bodies to the music on the dance floor beneath the flashing lights shining down from the roof.


As Hermes stared closer at the couples, he caught glimpses of round circular marks imprinted on their wrists, the universal symbol among immortals to represent soul mates. Hermes pulled back his sleeve and rubbed his thumb over the space on his wrist where the mark of Clymene would be if he did not have to keep it hidden from Zeus at all times.
A sudden hush fell over the room as the band finished their song then moved off stage to the disappointment of the crowd. Hermes dragged his sleeve back down over his wrist as a group of new band players stepped out onto the stage to pick up the instruments left behind by the last performance group.
His gaze locked onto the first member of the new band to step out to greet the audience, an angel with a spiked dog collar around its neck. He watched as the angel strode past the crowd to the edge of the stage where an electric guitar had been left behind from the last band to perform.

The angel bent down and retrieved the instrument from the floor of the stage, swinging the long strap attached to the guitar around its waist so that he could hold the stringed instrument more easily. A roar of applause went up into the air as the second member of the group, a short male dwarf dressed completely in black, wandered over to take his seat behind the set of drums. Shouts and whistles filled the room as a third member walked out to face the crowd, a large fat man wearing nothing but a thin g-string covered in sequins.

Hermes winced as the rock star smiled and blew kisses to the women in the crowd before taking his position behind the keyboard. A cloud of sparks rained down the roof to announce the arrival of the lead singer and last member of the group, a six-foot-tall male fairy with a pair of full sized butterfly wings jutting out of his back. An electronic sign at the foot of the stage read in large digital letters:


The Travelling Freaks


A spotlight shone down onto the lead singer as he leaned forward and spoke into a microphone. “And a one…” he said softly, his voice instantly echoed around the room through several speakers positioned throughout the nightclub. The singer grinned then continued to speak. “A one and a two and a one, two, three, four…” he closed his eyes and reared backwards, his face bathed in light from the spotlight shining down from above, then he swung forward, eyes snapping open, his hands grasped around the microphone in a white knuckled grip as the band members struck up a fast paced rock tune.

Hermes peered closer over the edge of the balcony as the lead singer opened his mouth and began to sing into the microphone. “I was working in the lab late one night when my eyes beheld an eerie sight…” the male fairy paused in mid song as a six legged spider with the head of a woman dangled over the dance floor from a long thin wire with a video camera in her pincers. An image of the lead singer’s face instantly appeared in several television monitors installed inside the nightclub. “For my monster from his slab began to rise…” sung the fairy, his voice rising. “And suddenly to my surprise…”

“He did the mash,” said the angel over the top of its guitar. The lead singer grinned at the audience. “He did the monster mash…” he glanced over his shoulder as the fat man behind the keyboard bent towards a microphone of his own.
“The monster mash!” he sung in a booming voice. The fairy swung back towards the audience. “It was a graveyard smash!” He cast a glance at the angel over his shoulder.
“He did the mash…” cried the guitar player over the sounds of the crowd. The lead singer whirled away in a flourish, hands gripped around the microphone, his face staring down at the crowd through the television monitors from all over the room. “He did the monster mash!” he crooned.


A werewolf standing in the middle of the dance floor raised its head towards the ceiling and howled. “Aaaaoooh…” the sound echoed in all directions for a couple of minutes before being drowned out by a guitar solo from the angel.
Hermes tore his gaze away from the balcony as a spiral staircase located not far from the table he was seated at began to rattle and shake as a tall muscular man with spiked red hair and dark blood shot eyes wandered down from the third floor clutching a beer bottle in his hand. The man paused at the bottom of the staircase then turned to stare at Hermes.

“You,” he said in a slurred voice, his face was flushed and his eyes slightly glazed. The man was dressed in a pair of jeans and a white shirt with the words GOD’S GIFT TO WOMEN written on the front in big bold lettering.
Hermes pushed back his chair and stood to his feet. “Ares,” he said softly, linking his hands behind his back. Ares marched forward with his hand extended. “Welcome to the Hollow Inn,” he said. The two brothers embraced then stood back to study one another. Ares wiped a hand across his mouth.

“So,” he pulled out a chair and sat down. “What do you think of the place? This is the first time you’ve ever come, isn’t it?” he took another swig from his beer bottle then burped. “Dad would hate it.” He sounded very pleased at the prospect. Hermes sat back down in his seat against the wall. “Of course he would,” he smiled at Ares from across the table. “That is why you opened this place, right? To piss off Dad?”
Ares shrugged. “So what if I did? I’m tired of causing wars.” He scooped a handful of peanuts out of a bowl in the middle of the table. “I like being in business,” he tipped the salted treats into his mouth then swallowed them.

Hermes nodded. “I can see why,” he said as a woman wearing a bikini wandered past holding a tray full of drinks. “Have you found the Erinyes?” he asked Ares, shifting his gaze back onto his brother. Ares cocked his head to the side and studied Hermes through narrowed eyes. “Yes, I have, as a mater of fact, but it was cost you…” he rubbed his fingers together.
Hermes sighed and pulled out his wallet. “How much will it be this time?” he began flickering through a wad of notes. “A hundred? Two hundred? Three? I’m willing to pay more.”


Ares tapped a finger against his jaw in thought. “Two hundred will suffice this time, I’m feeling generous tonight.”
Hermes passed the bundle of bills to his brother across the table. Ares shoved the cash into the pocket of his jeans then pointed to three young women seated in a wall booth on the opposite side of the room. “The Erinyes are over there.”
Hermes pushed back his chair and stood to his feet.
“Then I’m afraid I must be going,” he stared down at his brother with a smile on his face. “Until next time.” He stepped out from behind the table and started to move towards the darkened corner where the Erinyes were gathered in a group drinking beer. Ares leaned over the side of his chair and caught Hermes’s wrist in his hand before his elder brother could have a chance to vanish into the crowd. Hermes looked down at Ares with his eyebrows raised. “Is something wrong?”
Ares bent forward and scooped another handful of peanuts out of the bowl in the centre of the table. “Uh, yeah, there is as a matter of fact. I know about Og,” he popped a couple of the salted nuts into his mouth. “He’s going to be mad as hell when he wakes up,” he smiled. “Just thought you’ll want to know.” He raised his beer bottle in a salute. “Brother.”


Hermes grunted and whirled away, his long trench coat rippling in the air behind his legs a he strode through the dark smoky nightclub to the isolated wall booth where the Erinyes were seated. “Greetings,” he said to the assassins. Tisiphone broke off in the middle of a conversation she was having with Megaera to turn and look at him over her shoulder. “Hermes!” a smile broke out across her lips. “It has been a long time,” she reached down and patted the empty seat next to her with her hand. “Would you like to join us for a drink?”


“Another time, perhaps…” said Hermes, his emotions carefully concealed behind his cold blue eyes. “I bring word from Zeus in Mount Olympus. He has a new job for the three of you.” His gaze jumped from Tisiphone to her two younger sisters, Alecto and Megaera. There was a brief pause as the Erinyes bent their heads together and communicated telepathically among one another.
“What type of job?” asked Tisiphone, lifting her head to stare at him. Hermes placed his hands flat against the table and leaned forward until his face was inches in front of Tisiphone’s deceptively innocent features. Drawing on his skills as a liar and a manipulator from centuries of acting as a spy, Hermes flashed a charming smile at the Erinyes, his true feelings of revulsion towards the assassins hidden beneath the lines of cruel delight etched into his face. “Its right up your alley.”