My eyes widen as she brings back an ornate wooden box with intricately carved designs.
Without thinking, I reach for it. "What is thi-"
"Patience," she scolds, pulling the box just out of reach. "This is not a prize to be claimed but a key to be understood."
My pride flares, hot and insistent. I'm not used to being denied, especially not by some gypsy in a backwater cottage. But for a chance to see Genoveva again, I force my hand back to my side, fingers itching.
"Then explain," I growl, locking eyes with her. "What game are you playing?"
For a brief moment, I feel utterly foolish. I’m a man of reason and logic, of science. And here I’ve parted with a family heirloom to a strangely dressed woman in hopes of seeing my wife. At this moment, I cling to the implausible stories I’ve heard throughout my life of women leading seances to help people contact their loved ones. It’s worked for them, so a small part of me wonders – no – hopes it might just work for me.
And so, I continue standing here in this little hut, without reason or cause, on just a glimmer of hope.
The gypsy's eyes glitter with amusement, but her voice is steel. "This is no game, Gianni. It's a path - one that leads to the underworld."
The… underworld? Tell me the same a week ago, and I wouldn’t have believed it. And now, I’ll admit I know nothing. After all, to do the impossible, to get my wife back, I must believe in the impossible too.
My breath catches. "Genoveva," I whisper, her name a prayer on my lips.
"Perhaps," she nods, her fingers tracing the box's intricate designs. "But the journey is perilous, and the price... steep."
The air thickens, heavy with lurking danger. I can almost taste it on my tongue, bitter and electric.
"Tell me," I demand, leaning forward. My heart races, and hope and fear warr in my chest. How do I find her?"
The gypsy's lips curve into a cryptic smile. "Death is but a door and you... you must become its key."
I stiffen, my mind reeling. "You're saying I have to-"
"Die?" she finishes, her voice soft as silk. "In a manner of speaking. The veil between worlds is thin for those who know how to part it."
My fists clench at my sides. The thought of death doesn’t scare me. Not if it means I get to be with the love of my life.
"What do I need to do?" I ask, my voice rough with determination.
The gypsy's eyes bore into mine, searching. "Once begun, there's no turning back."
I think of Genoveva's smile and her hand in mine. Of the future we were meant to have. "I'm certain," I growl.
The gypsy nods, her fingers dancing over the ornate golden box. With a fluid motion, she lifts the lid, and I'm instantly transfixed. Inside, nestled on deep crimson velvet, lie two silver coins, along with a folded parchment. The coins were unlike anything I'd ever seen, gleaming with an otherworldly light that seemed to pulse with life itself.
"What the hell?" I mutter, leaning closer. The coins are etched with intricate symbols I can't decipher, and their edges have worn smoothly as if handled by countless hands throughout the ages. Despite my skepticism, I can't deny the power radiating from them. It's like standing too close to a fire – dangerous, alluring.
"These are your passage to the underworld," the gypsy intones, her voice low and melodic. "Obols forged in the heart of Hades itself."
I arch an eyebrow, torn between fascination and disbelief. "Obols? Like in the myths?"
She nods, a hint of approval in her eyes. "You know your legends. Yes, coins to pay the ferryman. But these... these are special."
"How so?" I ask, unable to tear my gaze from the shimmering silver.
The gypsy's fingers hover over the coins, never quite touching them. "They are bound to your soul, Gianni. They will guide you through the veil, anchor you to this world even as you walk among the dead."
My throat tightens. "And Genoveva? How do I find her?"
"You must listen," she says, her eyes locking onto mine. "The coins will whisper, and the map will lead. They'll lead you to her, but only if your love is true, only if your resolve never wavers."
I lean in, drinking in every word. The skeptical part of me wants to scoff, to dismiss this as an elaborate con. But the raw power emanating from those coins... it's undeniable. And if there's even a chance of seeing Genoveva again, of holding her in my arms...