Page 73 of Dead End

I pecked him on the cheek. “Not as thrilled as I am to see you.”

His cheeks colored. “Don’t be a stranger, Melinoe.”

My steps faltered when I realized I had no idea which way to go. The souls were streaming into different lines, following an unseen set of instructions. As I wasn’t one of the dead, I received no such instructions.

I knew I’d encounter at least one more river before I reached the central part of the underworld, but it was difficult to tell which stream of souls to follow. No one looked destined for Tartarus or Elysium. They just looked like people.

I turned to ask Charon for assistance, but the ferry was already gone, off to retrieve the next boatload of the dead.

There were no signs. No guides. I’d have to wing it. I closed my eyes for a moment to attune to my surroundings. When I inhaled the air to the left, my nostrils burned. To the right was a floral scent.

I opened my eyes. Small dots danced at the edges of myperception. I turned to see a row of grayish-white flowers glowing in the darkness. Asphodel. I chose the path to the right.

The glowing asphodel illuminated the path for the souls that traveled it. I joined the end of the line and teetered behind them. More plants joined the asphodel: narcissus, hyacinth, white poplars, and even a cypress tree. The flora of my homeland. I’d forgotten them until now. How many other memories were still missing?

The souls were drawn forward like magnets, seemingly oblivious to the plants as they continued to drift forward in a steady stream.

And there it was. The river Lethe, also known as the river of forgetfulness. On their way to the underworld, the soul drinks the water and then wades across this body of water to wash away their pain and suffering and literally forget their past in preparation for the afterlife.

I had to admit, it was tempting.

No more fears about The Corporation. No angst. No undercurrent of grief and loss to drown me.

I dipped a hand in the river and made a swirling motion in the water. I couldn’t miss what I couldn’t remember, right?

Wrong.

I snatched my hand away. I knew better than anyone that it was still possible to feel a gaping hole without understanding the reason why, not to mention that if I let this river take my memories, I’d forget the good as well as the bad. I needed those positive thoughts to sustain me in this dark place.

A memory bloomed of Bruce Huang in the Chinese underworld. The fuzanglong hadn’t wanted to drink from the broth of oblivion before crossing the Bridge of Pain because he hadn’t been ready.

Neither was I.

I watched the souls swallow water as they waded across to the opposite shore. On the one hand, it was a merciful option, to let them forget. On the other hand, what lessons would they learn from their time in the mortal realm? Those who were sent to Tartarus didn’t encounter the river Lethe, and with good reason—they were doomed to remember their past transgressions and the reason for their punishment. Their path to the underworld was not this one. I was grateful to have chosen wisely. The other three rivers had terrified me as a child; I didn’t wish to encounter them now.

I caught my reflection in the water. Tangled hair. The dark side of the half moons under my eyes. I looked as haggard as I felt. At least Gun wasn’t here to see me like this. No doubt the critique would have been devastating.

A head popped out of the water. “Hey, I know you.”

I scrambled back from the river, scattering pebbles and dirt in the process. A nymph. She was only a nymph.

She scrutinized me. “Why do you look like that?”

“Because you startled me.” Despite the nymph’s exposed head, her mixture of blue, green, and brown coloring helped her blend in with the environment.

“No, I mean like that.” She pointed at me. “Your hair. Your face. I heard you’d changed, but I seemed to have missed a few critical details.” She swam to the river’s edge. “Do you remember me?”

“You’re Lethe.” The truth was that I didn’t remember her, but I knew there was only one nymph in this river—the one who gave the river its name. She was the daughter of Eris, the goddess of discord and strife.

Smiling, the nymph tilted her head at a jaunty angle. “That’s me.”

“How did you know I was here?”

“I didn’t until I felt your presence in the water. I was soexcited when I recognized you, I swam straight here. I’ve missed you, friend.”

A yawn overtook me, so unexpected and powerful it nearly cracked my jaw in two. “What on earth?”

“You touched the water,” Lethe said. “It makes you drowsy. Easier to usher the souls across without them getting distracted.”

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