They stood on the edge of the water and Michael shifted uneasily. It was so deep. Too deep. He could feel just how deep it ran, so deep that it made him want to wear his wings, just in case it seemed like he would trip and tumble in. He glanced over to where Medea was talking to Amy; the little girl looked quite nonplussed about the entire deal. Swim to the non-existing bottom of this lake? She could do that, or so she had quite readily told them. She had sworn herself blue and black that she was a great swimmer – apparently her father had taught her how to swim behind their house, making Michael wonder just where this child had come from and how she had ended up entangled with Alyxa and her Deity.
“So you understand, child, you are not to stop for anything, nothing. I will cast this spell on you, but it will not last indefinitely,” Medea was saying.
“What does ‘indefinitely’ mean?” Amy asked and Medea clicked her tongue impatiently.
“‘Forever’,” she explained, her voice short.
“Oh. How long will it last then?”
“About an hour, possibly two. It depends. So do not get distracted, swim to the bottom, and you will find a cave, you will go through the cave, and you will find yourself in Tartarus.”
“Once you’re in,” Achilles said, stepping in, “you will probably be approached by someone or something. Don’t be scared, tell them you wish to see Lucifer.”
“Tell them you are a Dreamer,” Medea told her, wrestling the conversation back into her own control, “now this is very important: tell them you are of the Living World. Do not eat or drink anything while you are there. Nothing. Not a seed, not a sip. Do you understand?”
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