Page 71 of Monsters in Love: Lost in the Underworld

“It wasn’t.”

It wasn’tsupposedto be. But something in me reveled in her fire.

We settled into an irksome silence. It was a lingering thing that nipped at you, taking little pieces of your peace and replacing them with discontent.

I hated it. I hatedher.

My life was peaceful, quiet. Predictable. Now it wasn’t, all because of a mortal that dared to enter my realm and be interesting.

Moira

I stareddown at the water with my lip snarled in distaste. The river was dark enough that you shouldn’t be able to see the currents, but something within it glowed. It was alive… but cold, similar to Charon himself.

The psychopomp did not appear as I had imagined. In my mind, he was always shrouded in mystery, a dark being cloaked from perception. I had never truly wondered what was underneath the layers of cloth.

Some said he was an old man. Others declared him nothing but bone. The real being was something in between.

Some of his fingers were skeletal, others with a pallor that should resemble death, but somehow didn’t. There was a sheen to it that seemed to glow with life, even in this dreary place between the mortal world and the eternal.

I couldn’t believe I had told him my real name. It had slipped out as easy as breathing, as if he were always meant to know it. It was not information I gave willingly, and yet I had told it to him without a moment of reservation.

I nibbled my lip. Hermes would take me back to die, or I would diehere, waiting forever, unless I completed my task and stole an obol. I had considered passing off one of my obols as one of Charon’s, but deceiving the god was a fool’s errand.

He knew my name. He saw my crimes. He even knew about my mother leaving me in the market when I was only six years old. No, the god of thieves was unlikely to be fooled.

Still, I didn’t knowhowI was going to steal from Charon. I had managed to get in the boat, but the being himself just… stood there.

He didn’t make conversation. He barely looked at me. He barely even moved.

He remained, leaning against the push pole and staring out over the water, silver eyes devoid of emotion.

I’d never seen someone simply exist with such dedication, determined to be exactly what he was and nothing more.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a bore?”

He snorted. “The very god who abandoned you here. Many times. Has anyone ever told you that you’re insufferable?”

“Hardly. I’m told I’m quite charming. Besides, you can’t call me insufferable when you haven’t even bothered to have a conversation. Instead, you just stand there, looming.”

Charon threw his head back with a laugh. It reminded me of Hermes in the taverna. The comparison faded away, however, when I saw what the motion had revealed.

The cowl of the chlamys slid backwards onto his shoulders, no longer cloaking his form. Black horns protruded amongst long white hair that hung to his shoulders. The horns curled back over his head, little rings of texture along their short lengths. That same mottled flesh of his hand covered his body, though there were patches of exposed bone there as well. I could see teeth through a hole in his cheek, an ivory protrusion where his neck met his shoulder. I gasped, hand covering my mouth at the sight.

His eyes met mine. The silver seemed to burn, resentment dancing within like a flame. He reached quickly to pull the fabric back up.

“No,” I barked, reaching a hand towards him. “Please… leave it down.”

Charon narrowed his eyes at me, but stopped raising the fabric. Ever so slowly, he let it fold back towards his shoulders, but not fast enough to hide what I had been searching for.

His chlamys had raised just enough as he adjusted his cowl that his torso was exposed. There, amongst the folds of his chiton, glinted metal.

I knew where Charon’s obols were.

My chances of survival weren’t as dire as I thought.

I knewwhat I needed to steal. I knew where it was. Yet, I had destroyed my ability to take it.

I chided myself for my short-sighted behavior.

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