We walked in the middle of the spirits, their voices growing low as we approached. The streets were always busy, the stalls loaded down with a disturbing amount of things.
“They like to collect items and swap,” I explained.
Pilar moved from me, stepping in front of a stall, her eyes on the fat silver coins displayed.
“My lord, my queen.” The spirit bowed.
Pilar took the coin. “What is this?”
“To cross the river, my lady,” the spirit replied.
“River?” She turned to me.
I took the coin from her hand and threw it back in the basket, ushering away from the spirit.
“To cross the river they need to pay a coin, but they shouldn’t.”
“Why?” she asked but followed my steps as we negotiated the market.
“The three fates live across the river. And they don’t like visitors.”
“The fates?” she gasped. “Aren’t they supposed to be witches?”
I shook my head. “The fates were born of superstition, formed from the dirt in the underworld. Witches above are born human.”
“You keep calling me human.” She twisted her nose.
“You’re not one of the immortals, Pilar. You’re not an echo.”
“You’re not just an echo,” she argued. “You’re annoying.”
I glanced her way and she was smirking.
No one ever joked with me. Actually, since Pilar arrived I seemed to be talking more than the millennials of my existence. Fighting, bickering, or whatnot, Pilar gave my palace life in more ways than others.
“Come on, I wish to show you something.”
I brought her across the market and then down the long stone stairs.
“It’s like an ant’s nest,” she marveled.
In a way she was right. The stairs brought us to different levels and the levels to tunnels. It would take time for her to understand how to navigate the underworld. She thought with a mechanical mind from the world above. If she wanted to go up, she needed stairs. If she wanted to go in front, she stepped forward.
The concept of everything happening at once confused her, I could tell. Her hungry eyes devoured the place. She was trying to memorize her way in and her way around, but that wasn’t the way to do it.
The levels could change, and the stairs could move. Soon, I would teach her.
We continued down, her curious gaze eating everything up. We reached the river. The boatman nodded to us and I helped her in. I never needed a coin to travel.
“I thought the fates hated visitors,” she whispered.
“That’s not where we are going.”
Without instructions, the boatman rode silently. Pilar craned her neck looking at the souls dwelling on the riverbank, their coins in their hands waiting for a chance.
“Why would they visit the fates?” she asked.
I shrugged. “To send a message to above. For a chance to get out.”