Page 163 of Evil Hearts

“I’m not arguing that point, Hades,” a familiar voice growls. “I know the law. I was there when you wrote it.”

“Then why are you here, Charon?” Hades’ voice is a mix of curiosity and annoyance.

My feet carry me closer to the edge of the shadows as I listen to the sound of footfalls pacing back and forth.

“I want her to remember me,” Charon rumbles, and the pacing stops. “I want her memories returned to her.”

“No,” Hades says sternly. “You know the rules. No mortal will have any memory of this place when they return to the Upperworld.”

Charon growls low in his throat, and the vibration sends a prickle of another memory across my skin. But before it can sweep me away, his words anchor me in place. “Hades, please,” he implores, desperation seeping into his tone. I have been loyal to you for centuries. I have never asked for anything. Please.”

I lean forward enough to see the two men standing around an obsidian table, their shadows dancing in the light of a blue fire raging in a large stone fireplace behind them. Charon has his hands braced on the tabletop, the shadows of his cloak churning angrily. Hades is standing across the table from him, his arms folded across his massive chest. He’s wearing a dark grey suit with a pomegranate brooch pinned to the lapel, and his dark hair is slicked back, revealing two piercing blue eyes and a stern expression.

Hades heaves a sigh and unfolds his arms, sliding his hands into his pockets instead. “Why?” His tone is quiet and curious, but his jaw is firm and his shoulders are stiff. “Out of all the souls you have handled over the centuries, why this one?”

Charon hangs his skull like he’s unable to meet the piercing stare of the God of the Underworld. “I do not know why her soul calls to me,” he answers honestly. “But it does, and I can’t fight the siren call. I am powerless against her. I can’t even tell her no.”

“I know that call well, old friend, and I have a similar problem with a certain Goddess,” Hades says with a dark chuckle. “Shewill still have to be returned to the Upperworld. She can’t stay here.”

“I know,” he responds swiftly. “Nor do I want her to. This is no place for a mortal soul to live. She didn’t want her memories taken, and I want to give her that before she departs.”

Hades nods his head slowly. “And you?”

“What about me?” Charon asks, confused.

“Will you be departing with her?”

Charon hangs his head again. “No, Sir, I remain loyal to the Realm. Someone needs to guide the souls.”

Hades nods and looks over Charon’s shoulder, his blue eyes piercing through me even though I’m hidden in the shadows. His brow quirks, but he makes no move to reveal me. Instead, he looks back at Charon with a slight smirk. “I actually think there are a few areas that we need to make some adjustments in. After all, it is the modern age now. We need to upgrade our services.”

“You certainly have gotten our Ferryman into a twist,” a feminine voice cuts through the darkness.

I nearly jump out of my skin as I spin around and press my back against the stone wall. My eyes adjust to the dim light of the tunnel, and I can just make out a figure gliding towards me. Despite the low light, her skin and blonde hair glow ethereally. Her pink dress starkly contrasts with the desolate world around us. I look into her emerald-green eyes and feel the unease melt away.

She smiles warmly and offers me her arm, which I take without hesitation. “Hades will give him what he asks. He has always had a soft spot for Charon.”

I relax against her and let the peace and warmth of her nearness wash over me. “Persephone?” I guess, taking in the pastel flower crown adorning her head, petals reblooming as soon as they wither and drop from the heat.

“The one and only,” she confirms as she pulls us to a stop at the mouth of a cavern. “Here. You’ll need this.” She drops an obol into the palm of my hand, the smooth metal cool against my sweaty palm.

Two towering torches light the cavern on either side of a narrow wooden pier. The wooden planks stretch out into an expanse of murky water. I crane my neck to try and glimpse where the water goes, but there is only darkness and shadow beyond the circle of torchlight. We stand huddled together for a few moments longer, just listening to the steady lapping of waves against the rocky crags.

“You must understand, my husband will not keep your memories from you,” she explains in a hushed voice. “But you will not have access to them unless a need arises.” Persephone shrugs at the outrage, darkening my features. “Loopholes, sweet one, there are always loopholes with the King of the Underworld.”

“So I won’t remember him?” I spin in a slow circle, taking in the ancient Greek architecture of the cavern. “Or this place?” My stomach clenches at the thought of losing everything that I’ve fought so hard to hold onto.

The marble vault in my mind rears up, an ever-present pantheon in the landscape of my mind. I don’t mention the fact that I’ve been hoarding pieces of my memories for myself. Persephone seems innocent enough, but I don’t want her to take them away from me, too.

She takes my arms and gently squeezes me, her fingers warm and firm against my clammy skin. “I will grant you one memory that you may carry with you in your heart as you journey through the Styx.” She releases me and brings her palms together in front of her face. Her lips part, and a gentle gust of air swirls from them and deposits itself into her palms, glowing a faint yellow color.

I lean forward and watch as the lights and colors change, morphing into snippets of my memories here in the Underworld. Some tickle against the back of my mind, like I’ve stolen fragments and hidden them away in my vault, while others look wholly unfamiliar. The scenes change slowly, giving me time to assess what each memory holds.

My arrival in the Underworld with Charon.

Our first walk through the Asphodel Fields.

The many runs through the maze through Persephone’s Grove.

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