Authors: P.J. Hoover
I stand and punch at him with my fists, but he catches them.
“She can’t die.”
Shayne lets me cry. He doesn’t argue with anything I’m saying. He doesn’t try to explain.
The breath is moving in and out of her body. It’s shallow but still there. And the man with wings has vanished.
“She’s alive,” I say.
Shayne reaches out and wipes my face. His fingers come back covered with dirt that’s mixed with my tears. “She has to die, Piper. It’s the way things are.”
I shake my head and try to stay my tears, try to look fierce. “I won’t let her die.”
Shayne doesn’t speak. He looks to Chloe, pale on the ground, but breathing. I bite my lip to keep from saying anything, trying to piece out why Shayne is even here. Why would he be here anyway?
It’s only after we stand there in our silent deadlock for over a minute that Shayne finally responds. “If you had a choice, would you want her to live?”
It has to be one of the stupidest questions I’ve ever heard. “Of course.”
Shayne looks to the trees and seems to consider something.
“I would always want her to live,” I say again just in case he didn’t hear me the first time.
He turns back my way and nods. “Will you come with me somewhere? Please?”
On the ground, Chloe’s stopped breathing, and I’m about to say something when I notice everything else has stopped too. Not even the water is moving. Every single drop is frozen in time. The fish I saw swimming earlier are still. It’s like the entire world hibernates. I squat down to Chloe.
“She’ll be fine.” He knows what I’m thinking.
“I should get her to a hospital. She could have heat stroke.”
Shayne shakes his head. “I swear, she’ll be fine.”
“How can you possibly know that?”
“She’ll stay just like this until we get back. No one will bother her. I promise.”
“What if she wakes—?”
“Seriously, Piper. Trust me. Just this once.” His voice is layered with frustration, and his eyes plead with me.
I want to trust him. And I want Chloe to live. And if one is tied to the other, I’m willing to take the chance. Somehow Tanni and the winged man of death and Shayne being here now are all linked.
I move into Shayne’s outstretched arms, and he wraps them around me and fills me with hints of a courage that wasn’t there seconds ago.
“It’ll be okay,” he says. “Right?”
Maybe there is still some fear in my eyes. “Right.” Even I hear my voice shake.
“Good.”
We don’t walk like I think we will. Instead, we start sinking into the ground. I clench my fingers into Shayne’s sides because the movement is so sudden.
“It’s okay,” he says again. “Remember?”
I can’t answer because, in the next second, I’m swallowed by the earth. But instead of dirt and grit, I’m in a silvery void of flowing liquid mercury which seeps into my mouth and ears and nose.
I’m going to drown.
I hold my breath, sure the liquid will kill me, and in seconds, my lungs feel like they will collapse. I try to hold out a little longer. Maybe the silver fluid will be over soon. But the seconds pass, and I can’t stand it anymore.
I take a breath.
Instead of gagging me, the liquid fills my lungs, and they expand and contract as if with normal air. And in that moment, I finally believe Shayne. It will be okay.
I shut my eyes and hold tight onto Shayne, and we seem to float in nothingness. Nowhere on Earth. Like a world all its own. Again I breathe in, searching for a taste in the silvery liquid, but it’s like formless ether, liquid and gas and nothing all at the same time. Though we are floating, a current pulls on us, downward and upward, right and left. Pulling us toward our destination. When I feel cool air on my face again, I dare to open my eyes.
We’re in a cavern made of rust-colored rocks. Silver fluid trickles down the walls and pools on the hard-packed dirt floor. Light seems to come from the pools of silver and casts all kinds of weird shadows on the walls and ceiling above. Next to us is an underground river, and it’s so dark, the water looks black. But it’s bubbling, and voices come from it.
The hum of voices is freaking me out, but Shayne hardly glances at the water. He pulls a large gold coin from his pocket and spins it around on his fingers. It flashes in the dim silver light of the cavern, and I see a boat coming across the river toward us.
I haven’t moved, and I realize I’m gripping Shayne’s arms so hard my fingers hurt. So I loosen my grip and grab his hand instead. “Where are we?” Unlike our hot Earth above, there’s a breeze blowing through the cavern that smells of burning sweetness and cools the temperature down way below ninety.
He turns to me as the boat pulls up to the dock. “Haven’t you figured it out by now?”
I have, but I don’t want to say it. And he doesn’t press me. I can’t believe it, because it can’t possibly be true. Because if it is true, does that mean I am dead in place of Chloe?
The boat’s tied up now, and a man jumps out onto the long dock extending into the river and walks toward us. The black water behind him seems to extend forever.
“You have company.”
Shayne nods, and with his lips pressed together, he looks as nervous as I am. “She said she wanted to come.”
The man lifts a thick hairy eyebrow. “Let’s hope so.”
Shayne looks toward me, and I nod. My hand hurts from grabbing his so hard, but I’m not letting go. The water’s still bubbling, and the voices sound more like cries. I swear I see things swimming around out there in the black water. Things with horrible faces and sharp teeth.
Shayne flips the gold coin off his thumb with his finger, and the man catches it.
“Really. You know it’s not necessary.” But the man pockets it anyway.
“I don’t ever want anyone to say I don’t pay my fare,” Shayne says.
The man’s face cracks into a broad smile. “No one would ever say anything of the sort.” His skin looks as thick as leather, and his smile lines are so pronounced, they look sculpted. And his hair’s mostly missing with the exception of a few tufts above his ears and his giant, bushy eyebrows. The smile makes me think if I weren’t around, the man would be tempted to muss up the top of Shayne’s hair or cuff his shoulder or something equally as endearing.
“That’s what you say. But not everyone agrees.” Shayne begins to walk toward the dock, and since I’m holding his hand, I follow, trying to take in my situation without totally freaking myself out.
The man talks about the boat as we walk, like it’s a favorite family member, and he’s so friendly, I can’t help but feel I’ve known him my whole life.
“My name’s Piper.” I figure I better go ahead and introduce myself if Shayne’s not going to. The dark walls of the cavern shift and flicker around me, and the water’s still moving. But the darkness wraps around me and cools my skin from the world above.
The man stops walking. “Piper.” He presses his lips together. “It’s a good name.”
“What’s yours?”
The man looks to Shayne, who I see gives a small nod.
“Charon. I’m Charon.”
My breath catches. I’ve studied enough mythology in my life to know who Charon is. He’s the ferryman. I turn to Shayne. “Then that means…”
His eyes meet mine, and I see the red specks in his brown irises again, but now they’re flickering. “You’re in Hell.”
I ask the question that has to follow. “And you are…”
“Hades. Lord of the Underworld.”
I
’m not sure what to say. It’s like I’m a part of an elaborate hoax, but there’s no way Shayne and Charon could make up this world. I want to turn and run away, but I can’t imagine where I would go; I sank through the ground to get here. But the image of Chloe’s pale body haunts me.
“I should get back. Chloe needs me.”
Shayne puts a hand under my chin and looks me directly in the eyes. It’s like he wants to draw my discomfort away and into himself. Like he would relieve my burden at the cost of his own. He rubs my chin with his thumb, and chills spill down my neck. “I stopped time.”
“You can do that?” My anxiety begins to dissipate at the edges.
Shayne releases my chin. “My father’s the god of time. It’s an inherited thing.”
“So you stopped it now?” I ask. I ignore the father-being-the-god-of-time thing, because it’s just too much to process right now.
“Yeah, I stopped it now. I need to show you what Chloe could have.”
I look out at the frothing river. “You mean if she dies.”
Shayne nods. “You can see her place here in the Underworld, and then you can decide.”
“Decide if she lives or dies?” I shake my head. “I don’t need to see the Underworld. I want Chloe alive.”
“It’s not all monsters, Piper. Just give it a chance. That’s all I ask.”
I’ve already made my decision. If I really do have a choice here—if this isn’t some bizarre dream—I won’t let Chloe die. And I did see time stop. Chloe is fine, and Chloe will live. But…
The Underworld beckons me and draws me toward it. I want to see it. It wraps its tendrils around my body and calls to me with a voice I can’t ignore. So I smile at Shayne. “Okay. I’ll give it a chance.”
And his smile brightens the darkness around me.
We walk to the boat, and I get in. It’s large enough to carry at least ten people, and I move to a seat at the front—next to Shayne. Charon follows us in and heads to the back, picking up a long pole which leans against the smooth black wood. I watch Charon, and he catches my eye and smiles. The lines crinkle around his face again, and it infects me, forcing me to smile back. Letting me accept the mythical world around me and live in it for the moment. Helping ease my mind of worries about Chloe.
Charon unties the boat, and it begins to drift. Though the light brightens as we move, I can’t see the opposite shore. The water bubbles and laps against the sides, and something jumps out of the water, catching a bubble in its mouth and swallowing it.
Hell. I’m in Hell. And Shayne is the Lord of the Underworld.
“Are you the devil?”
Shayne puts his hand on the inside of my bare leg, below the line of my shorts. Goose bumps break out on my legs, and he grins. “Do you want me to be?”
Charon chuckles from the back of the boat, and Shayne laughs, too.
It seems like a reasonable question to me, and I know what answer I want. “No.”
Shayne rubs my thigh, smoothing the goose bumps. But it’s futile. His rubbing only causes more goose bumps. I separate my legs the tiniest amount, giving his hand more room.
“Good. I am not the devil.”
“You get asked that a lot?”
“Almost every soul who comes here. It’s that whole Hell and devil association thing.”
I put my hand on his, and he stops rubbing my leg. “So is there a devil?”
Shayne sighs. “Piper, let me tell you something. The devil is everywhere. Above ground. Down here. He’s evil. And he’s always looking for a way in.”
Just when my goose bumps were about to disappear. “A way in where?”
Shayne lifts his hand, waving it across the river. “A way in anywhere. Hell. Earth. Souls. Any tiny crack or crevice. Evil is trying to seep inside and take over.”
I’ve been fortunate so far that evil has stayed away from my life, but I think about how the crime rate exploded during the last heat bubble. I turn back to the water to where he’s pointing—to the voices I hear there.
Send me back to my baby.
At last.
Please don’t let me fall.
I’m so young.
I can almost picture faces behind the words. The water bubbles with the sound of each one, and soon they blend together. I lean over and try to get a closer look, to see the things swimming below the surface.
I didn’t do it.
My daughter. Don’t let my daughter die.
Each voice is different but the same. It takes me a few minutes to realize why, but then it hits me. Sorrow. Anguish for a life which will never come back.
Help us.
I want to reach in. To release the grief in the voices. I lean over and put my hands on the side of the boat. Water splashes up and sprinkles my face. I stand and try to reach further, but my hand slips, and I fall.
A hand grabs me on the arm and catches me, guiding me back to my seat.
“Careful, my love.”
I face Shayne. Or Hades. But he looks straight ahead, like he hasn’t said a thing.
My love. The words had been as soft as a whisper, and I wonder if I made them up. I hope not.
“What are they?” I ask.
“Voices of the dead. The last thoughts and wishes of those leaving the land of the living. They stay here in the River Acheron.”
They continue to call out to me, as the monsters devour them with their long snouts, some with a single gulp, some slipping through the teeth of one only to be grabbed by another. They jump out of the water every so often exposing spikes on their backs and fins that look sharp as razors. “How can you stand to listen?” I ask.
Shayne shrugs. “Better for the dead to leave their sorrows here than live with them for all eternity. It helps keep evil away.”
“You mean they aren’t sad after this?”