A Victorian Lady's Guide to Killing Gods and Monsters [ONC 2023]

Chapter VII: Beware of gods who want to trick you into tavern fights

London, April 6th, 1852

It was already past midnight when Mr. Swift got them a carriage. The distance was just about ninety miles, not more, but he was very much worried about any complications on the way.

"You are very, very valuable, miss," said Ben as an excuse for his behavior. "Monsters would love to put their claws on you. Do you know anything about fencing?"

"Lord, of course not. I am no soldier, Mr. Swift. What are those monsters you talk about?"

"You have heard stories about heroes and monsters, right? Perseus, Heracles, Odysseus..."

"Why, of course, but I do not understand what that has to do with today. Those monsters have been dead for millennia."

"Beasts aren't like you and I, miss. They don't die. The lands of Hades are made to keep mortal souls, not theirs."

"Are you saying they will keep coming back again and again until the world explodes or something like that?"

The boy shrugged. "I guess that's the easy way to say it."

The carriage went silent for a while. Hattie got distracted by the landscapes enlightened by the moon changing from the busy, gray streets of London to the country. She had never left London. Funny thing destiny is, because why on Earth would she go to visit some ruins in company of a complete stranger in any other circumstances? At least she was enjoying the trip. Her soul was not as worried as when she lied to her mother. It was just a couple of days out, there was nothing to worry about.

That... until the coachman suddenly passed out.

"What happened?" she asked, peeking from the carriage door while hidden in the largest coat she could find.

"I think this man's breath is strong enough to carry coal. Can't see him get us there at the time we thought."

"For God's sake, Mr. Swift, why do you always pick beer-eaters as coachmen?"

"Oi! Why would it be my fault?"

"Yeah, baby!" the coachman exclaimed in his sweet Allsopp dream.

Hattie turned at him. At least they were not in the middle of the main road. There was a nice inn right in front of them. Persephone Inn, she read in the sign, we're as drunk as the Goddess of Spring!

"Mr. Swift! Maybe we can stay here for the night. The horses need rest."

"Good idea," he smiled, tired. "I'll find another coachman so we can—"

"No, mister," cut Hattie. "Look at you! You need a good night's rest. You have exhausted yourself by taking care of me after... Auntie Simona's incident. I will make the arrangements so you can get to bed right away."