Page 164 of Evil Hearts

Our goodbye in the cavern.

“This one,” I whisper as the memories begin to repeat themselves. My fingers hover just over the shimmering light as Charon’s skull comes into view again. My heart constricts at the sight of his spectral form in the Goddess’s palm.

“It’s my favorite, too,” she admits with a slight blush. “Nothing goes on within the fields of the Underworld that we can’t see or hear. Please don’t feel like I’ve been spying because I most certainly haven’t.” Her words come out in a jumble as she rushes to explain herself.

“Sephy.” Hades materializes in a plume of smoke beside us, causing us both to jump and Persephone to smack her hands together, snuffing out the light of my memory. “Are you meddling, my flower?” His tone is stern, but his eyes glimmer with mirth.

She blinks innocently up at him with a bright smile. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean, darling,” she responds and bounces up to give him a peck on his cheek. When he turns to summon a mystical skiff from the shadows, she leans in close to me. “This will get you through the journey. It’s not a pleasant one.” Her palm presses against my chest, right above my heart, and I feel a warmth seep into the very center of my soul.

“This is where we part,” Persephone says, taking my hands again. “But I have no doubt that I’ll be seeing you again soon.” She winks, and her green eyes sparkle with mischief.

4

Ispread my stancewider on the rickety wooden bottom of the skiff and try not to think about the power of the water rippling along the sides of the vessel. Tears singe a path down my cheeks as the boat drifts away from the now empty dock. As instructed, I stretch out my trembling hand and drop the obol into the depths.

The murky water begins to churn and froth, bubbling up into angry whirlpools as a portal opens beneath the surface of the Styx. The skiff starts its descent into the gateway, but I remain dry. Not a single drop of the Styx breaches the invisible barrier surrounding me. I glance back for one final view, and my breath stalls in my lungs.

Charon is poised at the edge of the dock, his shadowy cloak churning around him like it always does. His bony hand is outstretched as if he’s reaching out for me. His skeletal features somehow morph into an expression of relief when I reach back for him.

He knows I recognize him.

My last view is of him smiling, if skeletons can smile.

“Remember me,” I call out to him as I sink beneath the waves and the portal takes hold. Persephone wasn’t wrong when she said it wasn’t a pleasant journey. The pressure around me is almost unbearable, and it feels like my lungs are about to burstand my skin is being flayed from the bone. I screw my eyes shut and grip the edge of the boat as my memory envelopes me, taking away one pain only to replace it with another.

The scorching air around me and the coarse sand beneath my cheek are the first things I notice before I even open my eyes. My head throbs like I took a tractor trailer to the skull, and even with my eyes clenched shut, I can still see the light. The sound of water rippling pulls me from my disoriented stupor.

I sit up and wipe the sand, still sticking to my sweaty cheek. The harsh light is nearly blinding as I blink my surroundings into focus. They’re both unfamiliar and unforgiving. A barren expanse of beach and dark water stretch until they disappear over the horizon. The air is hot and dry, and a sense of dread creeps into my chest as I stand and take a few steps toward the water’s edge.

My lips are dry and cracked, and my throat is burning with a thirst so great, I’m slightly worried that I’ve been turned into a vampire. The water, although murky, beckons me forward, and the possibility of quenching my thirst has my feet shuffling forward. Before I can drop to my knees and dunk my head into the water, a swirl of shadows emerges out of thin air.

“The Styx is not meant for consumption,” a deep voice curls around my senses, but I can’t bring myself to tear my eyes from the river. “Just a few drops will disintegrate a vessel, and the soul will not be allowed into Elysium.”

I turn on my heels, ready to bombard the man beside me with questions, but they all dissolve on my tongue as I take in the foreboding figure before me.

The creature is tall and shrouded in a cloak of darkness. Within the shadow of his hood, a bare skull with gleaming,sharp teeth is the only thing visible. Despite the heat, a chill snakes through my body as his hollow eye sockets bore into me.

He is truly terrifying, and I know I should quake in his presence, but fear isn’t the only emotion rushing through my system.

Curiosity.

Anxiety.

And something deeper.

I feel myself being drawn to him despite his ominous appearance.

It’s like there’s something deep within my being that knows him and isn’t put off by his appearance.

He glides closer to me as if a tether is pulling him and places himself between me and the River Styx. “You are a new arrival,” he says matter-of-factly. “Sometimes the Queen is here to greet new souls as they begin their journey, but she is preoccupied. I will be tending to your crossing.” The shadows part, revealing a skeletal hand as it extends towards me, palm up.

I stare blankly at the hand, trying to wrap my brain around what is happening. “Where am I? Who are you?” He doesn’t answer but continues to hold his hand out to me. I place my hand delicately into his and am instantly jolted by an electric shock.

His bony fingers curl around my hand, and his teeth somehow part into a smile. “No, little one,” he says, holding up our hands. “Do you have payment?”

“Payment?” I repeat, still confused. It hits me then, like a grand piano falling from the sky.

Styx.

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