Page 30 of Currency in Flesh

Cyril looked like he wanted to fight, tension almost palpable in the air between them. Charis, on the other hand, seemed completely unbothered. He just ran his fingers through his beard and stared at his brother. After a few breaths, Cyril exhaled sharply and nodded once at Charis before turning and walking back toward the meadows without another word.

“What the fuck was that?” I whirled to face the more familiar man. “What did I ever do to him?”

Charis hesitated. “Cyril has been with Lady Cora for a very long time. He has served as her close confidant and first line of defense. I’d wager he feels some envy toward you.”

“I’m not gunning for his job,” I replied. “And what could Lady Cora possibly be in danger from? She’s a literal Goddess.”

I didn’t like the way he looked away. I had the creeping feeling that everyone was keeping something from me, and itmade me queasy. Charis only confirmed my suspicion. “I am not at liberty to share things like this with you. May I escort you back to your room?”

The words were a request, but the sentiment wasn’t, so I nodded begrudgingly and followed Charis down the path. He was quiet as we walked, not bothering to look behind him. I could always try to sneak off, but realistically, I knew it would never work. Lady Cora said Charis knew of every soul in the Underworld, he’d certainly know if I ran away. But maybe I had been going about this the wrong way from the beginning.

“That girl, Anna, who you sent to my room—how do you know her?”

Charis’s gravel timbre came out in a chuckle. “As with every other soul, I brought her to the meadows. She’s a softhearted girl, and I thought you might appreciate some time with someone kind.”

“She was so young,” I answered, scrunching up my nose. “You couldn’t send me an adult?”

“Do you think I’m that stupid?” At this, he turned to meet my gaze. “I told you, she had an interest in you from the moment you walked into Pluto.”

“But she’s never kept anyone?”

“Not once.”

“Well,” I tried to thread as much nonchalance through my voice as I could, “you didn’t need to wipe her memory or whatever it is you did.”

Charis stopped. “What?”

“Anna, she didn’t recall having met me in the meadows. I just don’t see why you’d bother doing that.”

His expression tightened, eyes narrowing as his lips formed a grim line. “I did nothing to Anna’s memory. Perhaps you’re simply not as memorable as you think.”

He resumed walking, and I did a little jog to catch up. “That’s possible.” I shrug. “And what about the coffee shop? Do you know the woman who works there?”

“Tera? She’s been here a long time—makes an excellent cappuccino.”

“Is that her name? Weird that you remember it and she could not.” The path curved downhill, and I saw the building that housed my room. I still hadn’t quite figured it out—how Lady Cora’s chamber sometimes connected to mine and sometimes didn’t. From the outside, it all looked so plain and small, but I knew looks were deceiving in this place.

“Ma’am, I don’t know what your angle is, but I have done nothing to anyone’s memory. I guide souls to where they belong. What happens to them after is generally not my concern.”

“But she’s been here a long time? Is that why? People forget as they approach”—I waved my hand in the air—“whatever you call therealend? Lady Cora told me the people in the isles don’t stay long. Do the people in the meadows eventually move on as well?”

The man’s fingers fidgeted at his side, and he didn't reply for a moment. Just as I was about to go on, he spoke. “Yes, all souls do eventually pass through. It can take centuries, though time is a more theoretical thing in the Underworld. Many times, it takes greeting a loved one to encourage them to evanesce. Seeing your child arrive in the Underworld, well-lived and elderly, it changes your perspective.”

“You didn’t answer my whole question,” I said. “Do people forget who they were?”

Charis shook his head. “No. Memory is something most souls treasure, they wouldn't give it up.”

“Then why doesn’t she remember her own name, Charis?”

He turned his back on me, gesturing to the dark building in front of us. “Here we are, m’lady.”

Before I could protest, he was gone.

There wasa bright marigold atop my bed. My stomach churned with a sour mix of anger and warmth. I knew it was stupid; the coffee shop meant nothing to me, and I didn’t know these people. But something about the way Charis avoided my questions, and the way he spoke about memory had made me even more uneasy.

What else did people have down here? I was absolutely sure that remembering loved ones was important to nearly everyone in the Underworld. Maybe there were some who didn’t, for various possible reasons, but I couldn’t imagine parents not wanting to remember their children or lovers not wanting to recall their partners.

I made up my mind—if Charis wasn’t going to answer me, I would ask Lady Cora directly.

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