Key To Magic Contest
Prompt #1: Since childhood you were told to memorize a particular ancient language rhyme. Years later you realize that it was the key to a magical world.

A single candle glowed in the window of Addison Knight's grandparents' house. Weird, she thought, pulling into the driveway. Weirder still was her grandmother's insistence that Addison come over tonight.

The moon hung round and full in the night sky as Addison got out of the car and crossed to the front door. Tugging the faux-fur collar of her winter jacket high up around her neck, Addison rang the doorbell.

Gram answered almost immediately. "Addy, dear, come in."

"Nice dress, Grams. Are you and Gramps going out?" Addison asked as she stepped inside, shrugging off her coat and hanging it up on a nearby rack. The weirdness was amping up. The only time her grandmother got dressed up was for Christmas and Easter—and both holidays were behind them.

Beverly Fontaine chuckled softly and smoothed out imaginary wrinkles in her flower-patterned dress. Her long, thick white hair was caught up in a bun at the base of her neck; fire opals graced her ears and on a chain around her throat. "No. Tonight's a special occasion, that's all."

Frowning, Addison allowed Grams to lead her into the living room where the single candle glowed on a table. "Where's Gramps?" she asked, peering through the shadows.

"Upstairs. He'll be down in a bit."

"O-kay," Addison replied, drawing the word out and looking around. It wasn't her birthday or her grandparents' anniversary. What was going on here?

"I have something for you," Grams said, scooping up a long, rectangular box from a side table.

"Oh?" All of this for a present? Well, Grams did have a flair for the dramatic. Maybe this was all part of the surprise. Whatever anxiety was building in Addison's chest eased as Grams held the box out towards her.

"Go ahead. Open it."

Addison took the box. It was made of simple, unadorned wood with no branding visible anywhere. She flipped the lid up and gasped. Nestled in a bed of black velvet was a fire opal necklace similar to the one her grandmother wore.

"Oh, Grams ..." she gasped, tears welling in her eyes. "You shouldn't have ..."

Grams clucked her tongue softly. "Let me put it on you." She took the box from Addison's hands and picked up the necklace. Standing behind Addison, Grams lifted her heavy brown hair and hooked the jewelry around her neck.

"There," Grams said, smoothing Addison's hair. "Turn around and let me look at you."

Addison spun slowly, one hand pressed against the brilliant gemstones. "It's so lovely."

Grams smiled. "Do you remember that rhyme I taught you?"

Addison blinked and looked up. What an odd thing to ask. "Yeah? Why?"

"Do you think you could say it for me?"

Addison frowned, but her grandmother had just given her this brilliant necklace; she could humor her. Taking a deep breath, Addison drew on her childhood memories; of sitting with her grandmother while the older woman drilled the strange words into her mind. When she opened her mouth, an ancient language spilled out:

"Death is but an open door

to the chosen few of god.

Walk among the dead

and lay their souls to rest

upon a silver shore."

Addison smiled, pleased with herself. It had been a long time since she had spoken that rhyme. Grams had given her the translation, but it didn't make any sense. Addison just chalked it up to some strange game from her grandmother's childhood.

"So, what now—"

A cold wind suddenly blew through the living room, snuffing out the single candle and plunging the whole house into darkness.

"Grams?" Addison called out. "Where are you?"

The wind continued to swirl, growing more intense. Fear seized Addison's chest and she spun around. "Grams!"

"It's all right, dear," she heard her grandmother's faint voice call out. "We'll see each other soon. Do the family proud!"

Cold hands grabbed Addison by the upper arms. She screamed as an unseen force dragged her backward. Then she was falling ... falling ... down into a black abyss with no beginning and no end. The wind whipped past Addison's ears like a shrieking eagle as she failed ineffectually.

"Oof!"

Her back hit wood and she heard water splashing. Groaning, Addison held the back of her head as she pushed herself into a sitting position. A boat—why was she in a boat? "Where ..."

A dark figure stood at the other end of the boat, clothed in a robe that clung to his skeletal frame like mist. "Who are—?" Addison looked up at the figure's face, screamed, and passed out.

------------------------------------------

"Would you get up already? We're late enough as it is."

Slowly, Addison opened her eyes. She lay on her back on a couch in someone's office. It had grey walls and furniture patterned in various shades of white and black. The walls were crammed with shelves displaying all sorts of objects: boxes, glass bowls, and numerous crystals. A massive black desk sat in front of a wide window at the far end of the room.

"Where ... where am I?" Slowly, she sat up and pressed a hand to her forehead. Had she gone out drinking after visiting her grandparents? An irritable sigh drew Addison's attention upward.

A tall, regal-looking woman wearing an off-the-shoulder red dress stared down at her, tapping a stylus on a tablet. Addison blinked, uncertain of what she was seeing. The woman was beautiful with smooth, olive skin and dark black hair caught up in silver chains. A wide silver belt wrapped around her waist, from which hung a single ancient bronze key.

"Awake, now? Good, let's go." The woman gestured sharply.

"Wait—wait." Addison held up a hand. "Where am I? Who are you?"

The woman sighed and slid the stylus into her curls. "Listen, I have a schedule to keep, so this will be brief. I am Hecate, goddess of crossroads and witchcraft. You, Addison Knight, are the seventh woman in the line of Sarah Greenslade to serve Hades, god of the underworld."

Addison stared. Hecate. Hades. "I'm dreaming," she breathed, trying to find a reasonable explanation for this madness. Now, how to wake up ...?

Hecate sighed. With an impatient wave of her hand, her image shifted to that of a towering woman in a flowing, black chiton; two black eyes spangled with stars stared at Addison as she cowered on the couch. The ghostly images of two identical heads framed the woman's face, each wearing the same annoyed expression. In the distance, the sound of dogs barking echoed.

"This is not a dream," the goddess told her firmly, reaching down to pinch Addison's arm. Gasping in pain, Addison nodded, mouth dry.

Waving her hand, the goddess resumed her previous form. "Unless you'd prefer my original appearance?" Hecate asked, raising a delicate eyebrow. When Addison shook her head vehemently, the goddess chuckled. "I thought so. Now, walk with me."

Having no other choice, Addison swung her legs over the couch and stood up. Hecate breezed through an open door and led her into a long hallway. "This is the Underworld Hub," she told Addison as they walked, her red heels sending up little sparks on the pristine marble floor. "All major death deities hold court here. We are on the seventh floor and this is where you will spend the majority of your workday. Your duties as Lord Hades's secretary will be processing any special claims that come through, attending meetings as necessary, and other duties His Lordship deigns to give you. It is hard work, often tedious, but once your tenure is complete, you will be graciously rewarded."

Addison's head spun as she tried to process all of this information. Death. Office. Secretary. "You mean I'm not dead?"

Hecate glanced at Addison over her shoulder. "Fates, no! Souls cannot do the work required."

Addison swallowed hard. "And how long is this tenure?"

"Twenty-five years. But don't worry," Hecate said, waving a negligent hand as Addison gasped. "Time passes differently here. While you are in the Underworld, you will neither age nor get sick. You will return just as you left—provided, you do your job adequately enough. So far, all the women before you have completed the task." She raised an eyebrow pointedly. "I wouldn't want to break that winning streak."

Hands balled at her sides, Addison nodded tightly.

At the end of the long hallway was a massive black door. Two giant black dogs with glowing red eyes stood guard. Addison flinched as they extended muzzles larger than her torso to sniff at her hands and feet. Hecate ignored the dogs and pulled the heavy doors open as if they were made of paper.

Grey mist flowed across the floor, reaching out to curl against Addison's sneakers. Goosebumps prickled her skin and she felt a cold chill flow down her back.

"Death will see you now," the triple goddess announced, extending a hand into the waiting mist.

Swallowing hard, Addison stepped into the darkness.