"If you want my advice," the ferryman said, grinning from the other side of the dock, paddle balanced lazily over his shoulder, "don't eat anything down here. Not if you plan on going back up."
Cyd raised an eyebrow. "Huh. Didn't peg you for the helpful type."
The boatman shrugged, half-smiling beneath his hood. "It's purely business, kid. Rich types like you dying in the Underworld? That's lost revenue. Eat something, and it's not death you're getting—it's permanent residency."
"You can leave now."
"Oof. Bit touchy," the ferryman said, scratching his chin. "Well, don't forget you'll need my boat to leave, too. Might be worth staying on my good side."
He grinned wider. "Tell you what—want a tip on how to get past the big, angry mutt guarding the gates?"
Cyd gave him a deadpan look. "You mean Cerberus? What's the catch?"
"No catch! Just… say, a gold coin?" The boatman held out a bony hand hopefully.
Cyd flicked a coin into the air, watching as the fire in the ferryman's eyes flared for a moment. Then the skeleton-man caught himself and waved it off with forced bravado. "Ha! Kidding. No way I'm going near that thing. Cerberus is meaner than Hera on a bad day, and I like my bones where they are."
"Five coins," Cyd offered.
"You're a cruel man," the boatman groaned, holding back his own hand like it had betrayed him by reaching out. "But tempting."
Cyd smirked and slid the coin back into his pouch. "See? That's willpower. I respect that."
"…I could give you a trick or two," the boatman said, eyes locked on the pouch.
"No thanks. Just row your boat." Cyd placed his boot on the edge of the boat, then gave it a solid kick. The boatman's yelp echoed as the craft vanished into the fog, a splash and some cursing marking his departure.
They walked deeper into the graystone path of the Underworld, shadows twisting where there shouldn't be any. The wind didn't blow, but the air still moved. Cold. Weighty.
"You have a plan?" Medusa asked, resting her hand on the curved blade of her scythe. "Want me to distract it?"
Cyd shot her a wink. "Just watch me. Trust me."
She nodded, no more questions.
Five minutes later…
"So, uh… you sure you don't want help distracting it?" Medusa asked again, pointing with her scythe.
Cyd stared up at the creature blocking their path.
"…This is supposed to be a three-headed dog," he said, blinking at the thing with fifty-two glowing eyes and mouths that all seemed to be snarling at once. "I've read so many myths, and none of them mentioned this."
"Most humans exaggerate or underplay gods and monsters," Medusa said calmly. "Cerberus has never had only three heads. That's just what your kind could handle imagining."
A low, rumbling chorus shook the stone around them.
"HALT."
The voices came from all of Cerberus's heads, layered over one another like thunderclaps. "YOU STAND BEFORE THE GATES OF THE UNDERWORLD. THE DEAD SHALL NOT RETURN. THE LIVING SHALL NOT PASS."
Cyd staggered a step back, covering his ears. "Yeah, okay! Definitely louder than advertised!"
"Let me try turning it to stone," Medusa offered, her eyes flashing.
"No, wait—" Cyd placed a hand on her head gently. "I got this."
He stepped forward and pulled something out from under his cloak—a small, round pastry.
A honey cake.
It didn't smell particularly appetizing, but the dense weight of it echoed with a dull, thumping sound as he patted it in his hand. In myth, Cerberus had a thing for sweets—specifically these kinds of enchanted honeycakes that could lull even a death-hound to sleep.
"Hey, big guy," Cyd called, holding the cake out. "You hungry?"
One head snarled. "WE ARE NOT FOOLS. WE WILL NOT BE TRICKED BY YOUR BAIT. THE CAKE SHALL BE EATEN AFTER YOU ARE TORN TO SHREDS."
Cyd blinked. "Wow. That last part really gave it away."
Still, as he watched, about half the heads had gone quiet—staring intently at the cake in his hand, ears perking up like curious puppies.
"There's enough for… well, one of you," Cyd said, lifting the cake a little higher. "You could share."
The first head snarled and headbutted one of the others. "DO NOT FORGET OUR DUTY!"
But even that one sounded a little… unsure.
"Come on. What's the worst that could happen?" Cyd said softly, placing the cake on the ground a few steps ahead, then backing away. "Just a taste. How often do you get something sweet down here?"
Even the middle head gulped visibly.
Then…
CRUNCH.
A massive paw smashed down on the cake, grinding it into a mess of mud and crumbs.
Cyd froze.
He had one honeycake. Just one. He didn't bring more because he thought the cake would cause chaos among the heads. Now it was ruined.
"WE SHALL NOT BE TEMPTED." The middle head barked again. "LORD HADES ENTRUSTED US WITH THIS DUTY. NO SWEET SHALL SWAY US."
And just like that, all the heads focused in on him again.
No distractions. No shortcuts.
Only rules.
And teeth.
"So that's it?" Cyd groaned, running a hand through his hair. "Everyone else gets a cheat code—give the dog a treat, walk into the Underworld. But me? I get the one time Cerberus remembers he has a job."
"LEAVE. OR DEFEAT US."
Cyd sighed. "Welp. Guess that was the last chance for a peaceful solution."
He pulled the strap of his bag over his head and tossed it to Medusa. "Stay back."
She nodded and took a few steps away.
Cyd cracked his knuckles. "Just a heads up—I'm really strong."
In answer, a giant paw came crashing down.
He dodged.
From the shadow of his cloak, black scales shimmered and rose, forming in mid-air like ink swimming through light. They curled into a massive, clawed hand—a dragon's talon made of living shadow.
It grabbed Cerberus's paw.
"Sit."
With a roar like shattering mountains, the dragon claw hurled the massive beast skyward—then followed up with a punch to the gut so hard it cratered the ground when Cerberus crashed back down.
Cyd stood at the edge of the new impact site, arms folded, eyes narrowed. Floating around him were black scales like drifting shields, humming with magical tension.
"May I go in now?" he asked.
"NEVER!"
Cerberus burst from the crater in a furious leap, all mouths howling.
Cyd didn't flinch.
The shadows exploded from his cloak again, this time forming waves of scales. Dozens of dragon claws stretched from the darkness, and each one locked onto a different snarling head—pinning them mid-air.
A pebble flew toward his face. He caught it with one hand.
Crushed it into dust.
"Sit."
And Cerberus did.
With a thunderous crash, the beast was driven into the ground. A wave of force rippled out, sending wind howling back across the gates. Cyd's hair fluttered around his face, but he didn't move. The stone in his hand blew away, scattering into the River Acheron.
He looked at the subdued beast beneath his feet.
"Can I go in now?"