Greaves and Persephone were sprinting, they realised they had little time to react. The Centaurs outside had launched an assault and were hammering on the large doors of the Castle. They could here the screaming of the City's inhabitants over the ominous metronome of the Centaurs trying to beat their way through into the castle walls.
The attack was a diversion so that the three ethereal visitors to the realm could leave to the labyrinths to the south of her city. The centaurs were interested in rescuing Persephone. Persephone was interested in escaping the home that had become her prison. Zeus was interested in murdering Persephone. Hades was interested in revenge. Belial was interested in saving the world. Persephone wondered if there were two like minded individuals in the whole entire cosmos, or would everyones differences inevitably end up in the same sort of conflict as this.
Greaves legs had never moved so deftly or carried him so swiftly towards anything in his life before this moment. Adrenaline was no longer solving a puzzle, it was running toward battle and avoiding death all with some murky sense of the greater good. It occurred to him only briefly whilst the stone walls were blending into one long awkward lie around him, that maybe he had trusted Belial too readily assuming that his siter had all bases covered. But there was a job to do.
It was a very simple plan, Greaves had to escort Persephone to the hidden side entrance where outside a Demon and a ton of Centuars would be awaiting entrance and allowing Persephones escape . Once the Army was within the walls it was another sprint to the Library to collect the compendium of Hades geographical history. In which the Labyrinth was marked on a map with clear concise directions.
It was all so simple.
The clamour and the clatter of metal hitting stone started fading to background of his mind, his focus was entirely on the next corner or staircase. His meagre frame had not yet begun to tire but it still seemed like he had been running for hours towards the door that would allow the armies to squash Zeus and Hades from the inside of their protective walls.
The smell of Greaves' rapidly gushing sweat was suffocating to Persephone who had never held much love for perspiring geeks. She admired the little weeds courage however. There had been no complaint or crying when he was given his assignment. Around each corner could be a member of the Oylmpian entourage. On the next stretch of olive carpet, or behind the next mauve curtain could be a sentry.
At last the duo reached a set of steep downward stairs leading to the underground doorway in which Hermione would have instructed the Centaurs to go to. Panting and breathless they reached the door. Before the knob was turned Persephone sensed something was deeply wrong, it sounded like the battle was already in progress outside the doors. Tentatively she opened the door to reveal the horror that lay behind.
The Centaurs were there as promised, a dozen or so already dead, the remainder in disorganised disarray. Arrows were coming from somewhere behind them in the dark. This made no sense the villagers would not have been so armed. But then she saw him, the white cloaked warrior who was watching the blinded Centaurs fit and flail.
Gabriel had foud them.