I watched Kris as he spoke. He was very animated. He obviously cared a lot about his family. His brown eyes glowed in the firelight in a way I had never noticed before. His light brown fringe was slightly too long and it kept falling in front of his face, which I found very irritating. I had to resist the urge to brush it back for him.
“How do you keep track of them all?” I asked in wonder when he finished talking.
“That’s easy. I don’t. Now it is getting very late. It is time we both retired to our tents to get some sleep.”
“One more thing,” I said. “I haven’t asked my question yet.”
“What question?”
“The one you promised to answer if I told you why I was bothered about you being related to the god of the underworld.”
“Ah,” he said. “But you didn’t really answer me.”
“I did the best I could. So now it’s your turn.”
He turned his hand upward and moved his fingers toward his palm in a ‘come on then’ gesture, so I took a deep breath and asked him, “Why don’t you like Ankou?”
He stared at me in surprise. I have no idea what he had been expecting me to ask, but that obviously wasn’t it. “We’ve already been through that. Why do you still think I dislike him?”
“Your reaction when your aunt said he was staying with her.”
“Oh, that. You misunderstood. I love my cousin very much. We are roughly the same age so we grew up together. At times we are more like brothers than cousins, but there is one thing about him that I find really annoying. He is the male equivalent of my sisters.”
“Meaning?” I wasn’t sure I understood where he was going, but I had a good idea.
“Meaning he is in love with himself and assumes that every woman he meets feels the same way.” Oh. That. Should I have told Kris that he was right? Probably best that I kept my mouth shut.
“He believes that all he has to do is look at a woman and she will fall into his bed,” he continued.
“He is an incredibly attractive man,” I said lamely.
“I know, but does he really have to flaunt it all the time?”
“You’re jealous.”
“Yes. No. Maybe a little. I just wish he would spend more time getting to know a woman before loving and leaving her. Every girl I have ever introduced to him has instantly become besotted. Even you.”
Ouch. That comment hurt. The fact that it was true didn’t help.
“I notice you’re not denying it,” he said when I remained silent.
“I...” I had no idea how to finish the sentence.
“You’re going to get hurt, you know. We will probably see him again once we reach Death’s residence, if not before, and you are a very beautiful woman. I can almost guarantee he will seduce you.” He turned to look at me, his face serious. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
With that he stood up and went to his tent.
Great. Yet another night when I cannot get to sleep. So here I am, updating my diary, doing my best to remember everything that happened and what people said. I wish I had never agreed to come with Robert to rescue Tammara. My life used to be so simple. True, I was an orphan who was trying to hold down a long distance relationship while attempting to get my degree, but compared to life down here that was easy. Here in Hell I am faced with life threatening situations, I never know what will happen next or who the people I meet really are and now I find myself being warned off the most gorgeous man in existence by the son of a demi-god. Things can only get better. Can’t they?
Day 13
Day 13. An unlucky number according to some. I woke up wondering if it was going to be unlucky for me, then I remembered that I was stuck in the underworld, travelling through Hell and wondered what disasters I could possibly face that would make things worse than they already were.
I was also nervous about facing Kris. His words last night really bothered me and I didn’t sleep well. Again. Despite being tired I decided to get up. I could not hear any sound of movement yet and I hoped to be able to get through my first cup of coffee before having to face anyone. (Not that I gave any thought as to how I was going to get it now that I knew that Kris’s bag wasn’t magical.)
No such luck. Kris was already awake and had stoked up the fire. Did this guy ever sleep?
“Sleep well?” he asked, handing me a steaming cup before I had chance to ask for one. I sat down beside him and took a sip.
“Not really.” I didn’t want to talk about it, but lying to him felt wrong.
“I’m sorry if I upset you last night.” Why was he apologising to me? “I was only offering some friendly advice, nothing more. I didn’t mean to be so hostile.”
“That’s OK,” I said. “I understand where you were coming from.”
“Good. Are you awake enough to make breakfast?”
“Me? Didn’t I warn you that I can burn water?”
Kris grinned, handed me a pot to make porridge in and informed me that everything I needed was in his bag. Then he went to his tent to change his clothes, leaving me alone.
I glanced at his bag and was possessed with an overwhelming desire to snoop. I pulled out the oats, milk, a jar of honey and a wooden spoon and placed them beside me before looking to see what else was in there. I was most disappointed to find it empty. Kris silently emerged from his tent as I was still rummaging through his bag, searching for hidden pockets.
“Looking for something?” he asked. He sounded more amused than angry. I dropped the bag and blushed bright red.
“I was just looking for...” I didn’t know how to finish the sentence.
“Anything personal that you could sneak a look at?” I reluctantly nodded. “Did you really think I would carry personal items with me where anyone could get hold of them? You really are an idiot sometimes.”
He picked the bag off the ground and withdrew 3 bowls and spoons. Then he pointed to the pot. “Cook,” he said and I instantly obeyed.
I was surprised by the result; it didn’t taste half bad.
“What are the plans for today?” I asked as we ate.
“Let me guess, more walking,” Robert said sarcastically.
“For a while,” Kris said. “Soon we will reach the Great Lake. You will have the choice of walking around it or crossing it.”
“What’s the time difference?” Robert asked.
“Circumventing it will take about 3 weeks longer.”
“Then we cross,” Robert said. So much for me getting a say in what we do.
“How do we cross?” I asked.
“Can you swim?” Kris asked with a gleam in his eye.
“Yes,” I said, then glanced at Robert. “But Robert can only doggy paddle.” I was speaking the truth, but that didn’t stop him glaring at me.
“Then I suppose we had better ride. Come on. The sooner we get moving, the sooner we will get to the shore.”
We decamped and were soon on our way once more. The sun was still rising when we reached what must have been the Great Lake and I stopped and stared. It was aptly named. It stretched out in front of us till it met the horizon.
“Where’s the boat?” Robert asked, looking left and right along the shore and spotting nothing.
“Who said anything about a boat?” Kris said, then whistled three times, loudly.
Moments later the water began to ripple and a head poked up out of the water.
“What the hell is that?” I asked, backing away.
Kris looked at me. “Really? You still insist on using that word? I’m going to stop answering you, you know.”
“Sorry,” I said. “It’s a bad habit. I don’t realise I am saying it half the time. What is that thing?” I asked again, this time dropping the offending word.
“An alligator snapping turtle. You have them in your lakes and rivers, mostly in the south-eastern US, though those ones are much smaller.”
I watched, fascinated, as the creature swam to shore and crawled out of the water. It was huge,
easily bigger than the largest giant tortoise I have ever seen. Its shell must have been at least 2m in diameter. It walked up to Kris’s outstretched hand and began rubbing its snout against it. It was one of the ugliest creatures I have ever seen.
“Please tell me that is not our lunch,” Robert said.
Kris was horrified. “Of course not. What a ridiculous thing to suggest. This is our ride.”
And Kris thought Robert’s comment was ridiculous! What did he mean ‘this is our ride’? It was a turtle not a motor boat.
“What exactly does that mean?” I asked apprehensively.
“You’ll see.” He could be really irritating when he wanted to be. My concern increased when he took rope from his bag.
“What are you going to do? Lasso it and have it drag us along?” Robert joked.
“Something like that.” Robert stopped laughing and stared at Kris, trying to work out if he was being serious or not.
We both watched as the turtle sat still, allowing Kris to loop the rope tightly around its shell. “You will need something to hold on to,” he said.
As he worked, two more of the creatures emerged from the water and lay down on the beach beside the first one. One for each of us? I really hoped not.
“You may want to eat something before we set off,” Kris said as he started to attach a rope to the second turtle. “It’s going to be a long trip and eating while on the back of a turtle is not that easy.” Did he just say ‘on the back of a turtle’? Please tell me I misheard. Did he really plan on us riding on those things to the other side of the lake?
Yes, he did. As soon as he had strapped up the third one he explained the most comfortable way to sit. Or should that have been the least uncomfortable way? One allowed him to climb onto its back as he demonstrated how easy it was to stand up and keep balanced. I admit it didn’t seem that hard, but it was standing still. What happened when it started to move? Sitting cross legged seemed a much better idea.
Kris then took sandwiches and bottles of water from his bag and handed them around. “Get some food inside you, then we will set sail.”
I knew that I would not be able to eat while riding on the back of one of those things, but I still declined the food, preferring to have an empty stomach than to publicly vomit up half-digested bread.
Kris looked at me, his eyes filled with concern, but he didn’t try to force me to eat. Maybe he understood or maybe he just didn’t want an argument. All too soon it was time to leave.
“The turtles know where to go and will stick close together, so I will always be close enough to hear if you call,” Kris said. Without waiting to see if we were happy with the travel arrangements, he instructed the turtles to enter the water and they obediently waded in.
They did not go far and Robert and I managed to climb onto their backs without getting our feet wet. I slipped both my hands under the ropes and clung on for dear life. The rope was cutting into my palms and I knew that my hands would soon start to cramp, but there was no way I was going to loosen my grip.
When we were both on board, the two turtles started to swim. They were faster than I had expected and I am sure I would have fallen off had I not been holding on so tightly to the ropes. Once he saw that we were safely away, Kris walked onto the remaining turtle and skillfully balanced himself as it began swimming toward us. Show off.
Time passed and I began to relax. I released my grip and looked around. Robert had completely let go of his ropes and had his hands behind him, supporting himself as he leaned back. Kris was still standing and covering his eyes with one hand as he scanned the horizon. The water was surprisingly calm and I didn’t feel nauseous at all. My stomach grumbled and I began to regret not eating anything.
“Any chance of some water?” I called out to Kris, who nodded and pulled a bottle from his bag. Without thinking he threw it at me. I leaned forward to catch it, overbalanced and went straight into the water. This would not have been a problem had I not struck the side of my head on the edge of the turtle’s shell as I fell.
Kris must have dived straight in and grabbed me because the next thing I knew I was in his arms, trying to focus on his face, but failing.
“I don’t feel so good,” I managed to say before passing out.
I have no idea how many hours later it was when I opened my eyes again, but the sun was still high in the sky. Kris was sitting down on one of the turtles, cradling me in his arms.
“Welcome back,” he said as I began to move. “How are you feeling?”
“My head hurts,” I said. “What happened?” I tried to sit up, but he tightened his hold on me, preventing me from moving. It felt quite nice; warm and comforting, so I didn’t struggle.
“You had a pretty nasty gash on your head and a large bump. I healed you, but it might be a good idea if you stay with me for a while instead of riding on your own.” I wasn’t going to argue. Although I know I only fell because I stupidly tried to catch the water bottle, I still felt a lot safer with Kris making sure I didn’t go in the water again than I would have done on my own turtle.
Robert’s turtle swam close so he could make sure I was alright. I assured him I was fine and Kris instructed it to swim away again.
“You should sleep some more,” he said.
“I’m not tired,” I said.
“Tough. Close your eyes and go to sleep.” I have no idea what he did to me, but the next thing I knew I was waking up on a beach. I could hear the sounds of the tents being put up and the aromas assaulting my nostrils suggested food was also on the go.
I ran my hands all over my head, looking for the spot where I hit it on the turtle, but nowhere felt tender. Spotting my bag beside me, I decided that the boys didn’t need to know that I was awake. I pulled my diary out of my bag and began to update it.
It was a beautiful evening. The sun was beginning to set over the lake, casting a breath-taking glow across the water. The sand was smooth and warm, so I took off my shoes and dug into it with my toes. I was so entranced with the scene and my writing that I did not hear Kris approach. I have no idea how long he had been standing behind me, reading what I was writing, before he spoke.
“What are you writing?” he asked, making me jump in fright. Thank the heavens I hadn’t been writing anything more private. Didn’t he know it is rude to read over someone’s shoulder?
“My diary,” I said. “Ever since I was very young I have kept one.”
“It’s very detailed. I thought diaries were usually brief descriptions of the important events that happen during the day or a place where teenage girls put down all of their thoughts and feelings as they go through adolescence. That reads more like a story.”
“I find it easier to write that way,” I said. “I picture someone else reading it. That way I know I am not missing anything. I know that A plus B equals C, but a stranger wouldn’t. I always read it through as though I am someone else, someone who is hearing about events for the first time. That way, if anything is left unexplained, I can add it in. Maybe my grandchildren will enjoy reading about my life when I am old and decrepit.”
Kris laughed. “Can I read some more?” Did he really not know what he was asking?
“Of course not,” I said coldly. “A diary is a very private thing.”
“But you just said that you hoped other people would read it,” he protested.
“But not now. When it is in my past, not my present.”
“But I already know all that has happened. What is the problem?”
He seriously didn’t know. I should have been angry with him, but I wasn’t. “Think back to what you said about teenage girls,” I said. “It doesn’t apply just to that age range.”
“What?” he asked in confusion. Then he must have understood what I meant because he said, “Oh. I see.” He smirked at me. “Now I really want to read more.”
“Tough,” I said and made a point of packing it away in my bag. He eyed the bag mischievously. “Don’t even think about it,” I
warned. “That would be a serious breach of trust.”
“I have no idea what you are talking about,” he lied as he sat down on the sand next to me.
We sat in silence, enjoying the gentle breeze that came in over the water. “This is one of my favourite places down here,” he said after a while. “Especially at this time of day.” He leaned in closer to me. “If you listen carefully you can hear some of the birds calling to each other.”
I did as he suggested and he was right. It was very quiet, as though coming from far away, but I could just make out the cry of a bird, closely followed by an answering call from its mate. OK, so I had no idea whether it was from its mate or not, but I like to think it was.
“This is the sort of place I want to end up living in,” I said dreamily as I relaxed back until I was lying down on the sand. “On a beach, somewhere warm where I can wake up to the sound of lapping water. When I’m rich and famous, maybe I will buy a desert island.”
Kris eased himself down to lay beside me, our heads almost touching. “And how are you planning on becoming rich and famous?” he asked.
“I don’t know. Maybe I will become an author. I could write a great fantasy series based on my adventures travelling through Hell.”
I heard rather than saw Kris wince. “Please stop calling my home that.”
“I only did it to annoy you.”
“Now why does that not surprise me?”
We fell silent again, but it was not an uncomfortable silence. I closed my eyes and let my thoughts drift wherever they wanted to.
“Can I ask you something?” I asked without opening them.
“Sure,” Kris replied. “If you let me read your diary.” I hit him and he rolled away, clutching his side in fake pain. “Go on,” he said when he rolled back toward me.
“You said that every girl you ever introduced to Ankou got the hots for him. I would have thought that most of the females down here are your family and I can’t imagine many humans entering this realm. At least not while they are still alive. So how did you introduce anyone to him?”
“We have not been down here our entire lives you know,” he replied. “Most of my family have one human parent. Most, but not all. The children are often left on Earth until they have grown up. Hades decided to do things differently. He got married and brought his wife down here to live. War followed their example. Death, however, went the way of his uncles and cousins and impregnated a human while up above in your realm. She only visited the underworld occasionally. I think he really loved her. He mourned her death for a long time.”
Diary of a journey through Hell Page 13
