Chapter 6

The journey to find the Ghost of Christmas Present began with Anne peppering me with questions, her eyes alight with wonder. I could tell she hadn't had much to marvel at in her short, harsh life, and if recounting my misadventures entertained her, I saw no harm in indulging her.

"You… sneezed and started an Ice Age?" she asked, her small voice cracking with laughter.

I smirked as we strolled through the Underworld's vast, frozen fields. "Yes. I had a cold. It was Zeus' fault, of course. He insisted on holding court in a rainstorm. I warned him it would end badly, but he didn't listen."

"And then the dinosaurs?" she pressed, clearly fascinated.

I sighed, feigning exasperation. "That was a complete accident. I was experimenting with a rune of fire and… well, let's just say the results were more explosive than intended. You can't blame me for that extinction entirely."

Anne laughed, a sound I was beginning to appreciate. It had a brightness that contrasted sharply with the gray monotony of the Underworld. "You've done so much," she said, awe creeping into her tone. "You're like a walking legend."

I snorted. "Legends are overrated. Most of them are just embellished nonsense. What matters is what you do in the moment."

She nodded, but I could see the spark of inspiration in her eyes. Perhaps sharing my tales had been a mistake; the last thing I needed was for her to start idolizing me. I wasn't here to be a role model.

We arrived in Asphodel City—a sprawling metropolis of alabaster buildings and shimmering spires that stretched endlessly into a snow-laden sky. The city, nestled deep in the heart of the Underworld, was a place where souls lingered before passing on to their final destinations. Snowflakes drifted lazily through the air, casting an ethereal glow over the bustling streets. Spirits moved about, going about their business as though they were still alive, though they lacked the urgency of mortals. It was a city of eternal waiting.

"It's beautiful," Anne whispered, her breath forming a small cloud in the frigid air.

"It's functional," I corrected. "Come. The Lower City is where we'll find our man."

We descended through winding streets, the atmosphere growing less pristine and more chaotic. The Lower City was where the rougher souls congregated—those who refused to let go of their mortal vices even in death. The air was thick with the scent of roasted meat and spilled ale, a cacophony of laughter and shouting filling the narrow alleys.

"Do all these ghosts know you?" Anne asked as several spirits bowed or murmured greetings as I passed.

"They should," I said simply. "I am their king."

Anne's brow furrowed. "But they're not afraid of you."

I chuckled. "Fear and respect are two sides of the same coin, child. Most of these souls know better than to cross me, but that doesn't mean they're terrified every moment of their afterlife."

We finally arrived at a raucous pub, its windows aglow with warm light that spilled out onto the icy street. Inside, the scene was even livelier. Spirits drank, sang, and caroused as if they hadn't a care in the world. At the center of it all, sitting at a massive table piled high with food and drink, was the man I'd come for.

Dionysus.

He was as I remembered him, though more robust in death than he'd been in life. His long, unkempt hair and thick beard framed a face perpetually alight with mischief. A toga draped over his broad shoulders, and grapevines twisted around his arms like living jewelry. His pot belly jiggled as he laughed, downing a goblet of wine in a single gulp before slamming it onto the table.

"There he is," I muttered, weaving through the crowd toward him.

Anne followed close behind, her wide eyes darting around the pub. "He doesn't look like a ghost," she whispered.

"He's more stubborn than most," I said dryly.

Dionysus looked up as I approached, his face breaking into a wide grin. "Well, if it isn't the great Hades himself!" he boomed, his voice carrying over the din of the room. "What brings you to my humble corner of the Underworld, my liege?"

I crossed my arms, towering over him. "I need your help."

His grin widened. "My help? Surely you jest! What could the mighty Lord of the Dead possibly need from a simple man like me?"

I sighed, already regretting this. "It's about Christmas."

Dionysus' laughter erupted, shaking the table and causing several goblets to spill. "Christmas? You've gone soft, Hades! What, is the holiday spirit infecting even you now?"

"Enough," I said sharply, my tone cutting through his mirth. "This isn't a joke. I need you to come with me. The fate of the mortal world depends on it."

His laughter subsided, but his smirk remained. "And why should I help you? You refused to make me a god, remember? Left me to live out my mortal life, aging and dying like a common man. Why should I care what happens to the mortals?"

I clenched my fists, my patience thinning. "That was millennia ago. Are you seriously still holding a grudge?"

He shrugged, taking another swig of wine. "Some wounds never heal, old friend."

"Old friend?" I snapped. "I should smite you where you sit, you insolent drunkard."

He raised an eyebrow, clearly unbothered. "Go ahead. It'll save me from the monotony of eternity."

My temper boiled over. I grabbed him by the front of his toga and yanked him to his feet. The pub fell silent as every eye turned to us.

"Listen to me, you insufferable fool," I growled. "Krampus is back, and if we don't stop him, he'll destroy everything. Now, are you coming, or do I have to drag you?"

Dionysus stared at me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, to my surprise, he chuckled.

"Alright, alright," he said, brushing my hands away. "No need to get violent. I'll come. But only because I'm curious to see how this plays out."

I released him, and he adjusted his toga with a smirk. "You've got a way with words, Hades. Truly inspiring."

"Shut up," I muttered, turning to leave. Anne followed, glancing nervously back at Dionysus.

"Is he always like that?" she asked quietly.

"Worse," I said. "Let's just hope he's more useful than annoying."