Page 44 of What Sleeps Within the Cove

I had no doubt she would quickly come to realize that whatever she’d imagined for my life and my upbringing hadn’t been the case, and the woman I’d become had been a product of those acts.

They could argue that my life had made me stronger, but that was bullshit.

I’dmade me stronger. I’d survived what was done to me and comeout the other side in spite of the hardships of my life,notbecause of them. Suffering to gain strength was a ridiculous excuse crafted by abusers and the privileged.

“What’s the Acheron?” I asked the three-fold Goddess.

Badb stared down at the green waters sadly, wringing her hands in front of her. She picked at her black nails that were sharpened into talons, sighing before she met my eye.

“The River of Pain,” she said finally, earning a scoff from me.

“Of course it is,” I said, rolling my eyes as I took another step closer to the water. I’d endured enough pain in my life, and I was so fucking tired of it being the test for everything.

Medusa stepped up beside me, taking my hand in hers as I snapped to look at her. Her bespeckled green eyes met mine, a silent plea in them. “The river will use your worst fears against you,” she said, the warning resonating between us. “Fear is your worst enemy. Fear makes pain and suffering so much worse. If you can numb your mind to the agony of those fears, you will be able to numb your bodysomeas well so that you can overcome whatever the river deems your challenge to be. I have seen people persevere through burning, drowning, being skinned alive—”

I drew my hand back from hers, my gaze sharpening. “You know nothing about me if you think being skinned alive or burned could be my greatest fear. You cannot fear what you’ve already overcome,” I said, earning a twisted brow in response. I smiled, the bitter expression feeling callous even to me. “You may have given birth to me thirteen lives ago, but that doesn’t mean you know a single thing about me now. I don’t fear anything they could do tome,” I said, staring down at the green water.

Only those who hadn’t suffered could underestimate what the greatest pains were.

I dove into the water, swimming through the green, cloudy fluid as every corner of my body throbbed. It felt like being struck with lightning, like tiny fires exploding on my skin and shriveling me into pieces.

I swam for the bottom anyway, continuing on even when my body wanted to stop and my muscles locked in agony.

Sinking deeper, I let the river take me down.

TWENTY-EIGHT

CALDRIS

The ferryman rowed the boat through Tartarus, the landscape changing as the current swept us down the Acheron river. The darkness of the Void left us in a sudden, blinding burst of pulsing red light, fires gleaming on the land beside the green tinted shore. The dirt here was as black as Mab’s soul, continuing on in what seemed like endless monotony.

We continued to row, the ferryman pausing as something came into view in the distance. We could only see the heads over the rolling black hill that stood between the river and the figures, but the gray of stone was unmistakable.

“What is that?” I asked, standing in the boat to try to get a better view. The creatures that the statues had been modeled after were enormous, monstrous things crafted from my worst nightmares. Some were larger than cave beasts, the teeth curving out of their open mouths far longer and bigger than the creature I’d once foughtto defend Estrella. The thought that she might have been forced to face them down on her own sent a pang of unease through me.

She was alive. I knew it without a doubt.

But that didn’t mean she was safe.

“The Gorgons were here,” the ferryman said, his mouth pursed into a tight line. The sheer volume of creatures—both humanoid and not—that they’d turned to stone was horrifying, knowing that they’d never stood a chance against the simple stare of the very creature Estrella had come here to seek out.

Fuck.

The ferryman continued rowing, the tension in his face the only sign that any part of him cared for the woman we rowed in search of. “What if she’s one of those statues?” I asked, turning back to him with wide eyes.

He paused in his rowing, his arms stilling as he stared at the water of the river for a moment. When he finally turned to face me, his golden eyes glowed from beneath the fabric of his hood. “She isn’t,” he said simply, tipping his head to the side as he studied me.

I couldn’t see beyond the glow of his stare to anything that might have resembled a man beneath the hood, as if the ferryman was nothing more than the energy of the Fates beneath his cloak. I wondered what I might find if I pulled it back, if it would be an all-consuming darkness or the shadow of a man. If his face would pull tight with his annoyance or his brow would rise in his confusion.

“You can’t know that,” I said, attempting to ignore the way I felt that gaze slither against my skin.

Kharon guided the boat around the corner, using the shoreline to maneuver us so that we entered the transparent, toxic waters of the Acheron.

“Your mate will not be harmed by the Gorgons,” the ferryman answered, guiding us to the shoreline ahead. A small group had gathered there, women with snakes for hair standing on the sand. I recognized Fenrir even from a distance, his sisters standing in his shadow as he nuzzled his face against something that remained hidden on his other side.

Three women with different-colored hair took a step toward the water, speaking to the woman that emerged from behind Fenrir and approached the dizzying green water that made me sick to even look at. Estrella’s hair was bound into a tight braid, black, tailored armor covering her body from her neck to her wrists and feet.

She shook her head, and I could imagine the disdain-filled scoff she emitted as she stepped into the edge of the water.

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