Page 36 of Definitely Dead

Oh, good. He wouldn’t want this to be easy or anything. “So, how do we shift our souls back?”

“We need to find Aster.”

Yeah, no shit. He had kind of worked that much out for himself. “Where would he go? What is he even trying to do?”

No one, it seemed, had an answer.

“We’ll find him,” Orrin assured. “He can’t have gotten far, and there are only so many places to hide in the village.”

“Unless he’s not in the village.” Dread turned his veins to ice as he stared out over the river at the bottom of the hill.

Tyr immediately started shaking his head. “No. No, he wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t cross.”

Only he sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than Sunne.

Taking Tyr’s wrist, he gave it a comforting squeeze, but he addressed the prince when he spoke. “Is there a way we can know for sure? Someone we can ask?”

Orrin dipped his head, and in the next instant, Sunne found himself standing on the rickety pier, Tyr’s arm still clutched in his hand. Then, before he could even shake off the disorientation, a longboat appeared from the darkness, gliding silently over the surface of the water.

It came to a smooth stop beside the dock, a shadowed, hooded figure at its helm.

“Did you ferry a soul across the river just now?” Orrin asked, his tone surprisingly conversational, all things considered.

“I am bound by the laws of Hades to ferry the dead to their eternal resting place,” the figure answered, his tone deep, hollow, and ringing.

Tyr growled. “Knock it off, asshole. I don’t have time for your community theater. Just answer the fucking question.”

Sunne held his breath when the cloaked male reached for his hood and slid it back from his face, but the reveal ended up being pretty anticlimactic. Rather than a skull or a twisted visage, he found himself staring into a pair of bright amber eyes that twinkled with mischief.

Wearing a disarming smile, the ferryman ran a hand through his blond hair in a futile attempt to tame the wild curls. “Chill, man.”

“Charon.”

“Fine, yes, I took a kid across the river. What’s the big deal?”

Damn, this place just kept getting weirder. Sunne had expected Charon, the fabled ferryman of the dead, to be…well, not this. The guy looked and spoke more like he should be crushing beer cans against his forehead at a fraternity kegger.

“What did he look like?” he asked, stepping around Tyr.

Charon shrugged. “Young. Dark hair.” His smile stretched a little wider. “Pretty eyes, but kind of a dick.”

Aw, he thought Sunne had pretty eyes? That was nice. Thedickpart, not so much.

“Yeah, that sounds like him.”

“Did he give a name?” Orrin asked, ever the practical one.

The ferryman bobbed his head. “Asher? Usher? I don’t know. Something like that.”

Tyr didn’t even wait for him to finish speaking before stepping off the dock and into the boat. The craft didn’t rock or sway. It didn’t even sink deeper into the water under his weight.

“Come,lelien.” He held his hand out, urging Sunne into the longboat with him.

Gripping one of the splintered posts, Orrin shook his head. “Are you sure you want to do this? You know the laws.”

“Fuck the laws,” he growled back. “I’m going to get my mate.”

Sunne glanced between them, his pulse racing at the tension simmering beneath their words. “What laws? Tyr, what is he talking about?”

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