by Brux, Boone
“Once you leave the physical world,” Mara added, “Time and dimensions shift. Astral planes have different rules of physics. It’s impossible to know them all.”
I nodded, understanding the basics of what she said. My eyes cut to Hal. Thankfully he wasn’t staring at me anymore. I relaxed a little, feeling more confident that he wasn’t going to go against his mom’s command, and that we’d actually make it to Styx in one piece. I pushed for more information. “What about the river? You said it’s treacherous and a lot of souls were lost. How so?”
This time Hal spoke. “Styx isn’t just a river. It’s an entity in itself, tempting and toying with the souls. If the soul submits to the desires of the water it will be dragged under, unable to reach its final destination.”
“That’s horrible.” Pressure pushed against my chest. I’d be responsible for all these souls. The magnitude of my situation weighed down on me. “Is that what they call Purgatory?”
“No, there are many different phases of Purgatory,” Hal said, slowly opening up with information. “Currently, standing on the banks waiting for the ferry is Purgatory for millions of souls.”
“Millions?” The number shocked me. I’d imagined several thousand, but millions? How the hell was I going to transport that many souls? Maybe they squished together or folded up for convenient storage. “Just how big is the ferry?”
“Big,” Mara and Hal said in unison.
“Man, this is so unfair.” I crossed my arms over my chest and slumped against the wall. “Stupid Charon.”
“To say the least,” Hal mumbled.
A thousand questions tumbled through my mind, but I wasn’t sure I could handle more enlightenment about my responsibility. “You should have music playing. Something soothing.”
The Girl From Ipanema flared from speakers in the ceiling. My mother listened to the song when I was little. Even though I didn’t know the words it was impossible not to shimmy a little to the catchy beat. Mara gave me a sideways glance, and then shook her head.
After what felt like two or three minutes, who knew since time stopped or didn’t exist down here, Hal said, “We’ve arrived.”
“I’m going to leave this here.” I dragged my purse strap over my head, dropping it in the corner. Butterflies fluttered and dipped in my stomach. What would we find when the elevator door opened? Mara and I inched toward the front. “Okay.” I nodded at Hal. “Ready.”
“Holy shit,” Mara whispered.
When he’d said millions of people, he hadn’t exaggerated. The spirits spread out before us, a sea of bobbing heads, filling every available spot. Still, from inside the elevator the place was eerily quiet. Maybe once they arrived here, spirits couldn’t communicate with the living. Whatever the reason, it sent a tingle up my neck, resulting in a shudder.
My mouth dropped open and my feet wouldn’t move, this time preferring to remain inside. The once horrifying elevator now seemed by far the safest place. Clouds rolled above us, churning with a dozen shades of pink and gray. Though there was no actual sun, periodically rays of light streamed through the turbulent clouds, but were quickly swallowed up again.
“I’m going to kill him.” I looked at Mara. “When we find Charon, I’m going to literally tear him to pieces.”
“I’ll help.” Mara stepped out of the elevator first. “Okay, all we have to do is check out the ferry, and then get out of here.”
“Hal, you’re going to wait, right?” I jabbed my finger at the ground. “Not bail on us?”
“That’s tempting, but no, I will not leave.” His lip curled in a tiny sneer. “I have no wish to face my mother’s wrath—again.”
Mommy issues worked for me if it kept our getaway car—or elevator—close by. “Okay.” I exited and stopped next to Mara, inhaling. “What’s that smell?”
Lifting her chin, she sniffed. “Smells like a little bit of a lot of things. Fire, brimstone, salty air.”
“And flowers.” I blew out my breath. “Too weird. I’m having information overload.”
“Ready?” Mara asked.
“No, but I don’t think anybody cares? Let’s do this as quickly as possible, and then go drink heavily.”
“I’m so there.”
The elevator perched on a ledge above the river, overlooking the expanse of the banks and surrounding area. It was one of the few spaces not occupied by a body. We picked our way over the uneven ground and descended slick, moss-covered steps that had been cut into the side of the rock face.
Once at the bottom, I braced against the jostling crush of the crowd I knew I’d have to endure, and stepped off the last stair onto a brick path. To my surprise the crowd flowed around, and even through us. Just like on the physical plane, the spirits sliced me with icy chills.
“Well, that’s convenient,” I said, glancing at Mara.
She vigorously rubbed her arms. “Convenient, but freezing.”
“Welcome to my world.” I pushed forward, gritting my teeth against each spirit that passed through me. “They don’t seem to see us.”
The souls made no indication they knew we were there, with not even a glance in our direction. Walking among them, I could now hear low, murmuring voices, as if I were listening from underwater, but I couldn’t make out actual words. If the spirits didn’t know we were there, getting them onto the ferry might prove to be problematic.
We stopped a few yards before the massive arch spanning the brick roadway. To the right sat a shallow golden bowl about five feet across, heaped with gold coins. I flicked my head toward the treasure. “Charon’s pension.”
“A never-ending income stream.” She shook her head, still rubbing her arms. “Must be nice.”
“Yeah, and we’re doing the work for him.” I pointed at the arch. “Look, you can just make out the ferry.”
Standing on her tiptoes, Mara craned her neck. “I wonder how many souls we can take in one trip.”
“I guess we’ll find out when we run our first ferry trip. I’m just hoping we don’t lose anybody.” The thought twisted my gut into knots. “Or crash.”
“We’ll do fine,” Mara said unconvincingly.
Stone columns soared and arched fifty feet above our heads, the opening as wide as a six-lane freeway. The structure’s grandeur was fitting considering it ranked right up there with the pearly gates or the gates of Hell—not that I’d seen either, thank God.
When I took a step forward to pass under the arch, an electrical charge raced over my skin, making my toes and fingers tingle. I gasped as the intensity increased.
“Is this normal?” I attempted to turn my head and look at Mara, but my entire body remained immobilized.
“I don’t know.” Her voice held a hint of panic, which in turn made me freak out a little.
Before I could launch into a full-on anxiety attack, the electrical sparks skittered outward to the tips of my fingers, feet, and head, creating a two-foot circle around my entire body. A high-pitched buzzing replaced the tingles, and I was able to move again. I looked at Mara, and when she took a step toward me the electrical circle burst, sending a shockwave out in all directions, blowing her off her feet.
Unable to stand, I dropped to my knees. Pain shot through my legs, but I ignored it and crawled across the brick path to Mara. “Are you hurt?”
She slowly sat up, pushing her mass of red hair out of her face. “I don’t think so.” Resting her arm on her bent knee, she rubbed the back of her head. “What the hell was that?”
“Sorry,” Hal called from the ledge. “I forgot to tell you about the arch.” He grinned, and I knew he hadn’t forgotten at all. “No living can pass unless authorized. You’ll be fine now—able to move freely in and out.”
I waved a hand, acknowledging that I heard him. When he turned and reentered the elevator, my wave curled into the bird. “Jackass.”
“Oh, he thoroughly enjoyed that.” Mara struggled to her feet. “Even left his box to watch.”
“Since he’s the one
who broke that rule in the first place, he’s probably the reason they have that damn arch,” I growled.
“No doubt.”
My legs felt like I’d climbed a hundred flights of stairs and a groan seeped from me when I stood. “I’m only thirty-five, but I still think I’m too old for this shit.”
“I’m six thousand,” Mara said. “I’m definitely too old.”
“You’re six thousand years old?”
“Give or take a century.” She started down the path.
“It’s so unfair,” I mumbled, following her.
When we passed under the arch a loud gong rang, followed by several clicking sounds, like a ticking clock. Without warning, the bowl of gold tipped, dumping its contents. The coins rattled and clanked, reminding me of the good old days in Vegas when the slot machines paid out in real money. A minute later, the bowl tipped back and settled into place.
“I think Charon just got paid.” Mara propped her fists against her hips. “I’ll help you kick his ass when we find him.”
“Deal.” I smiled, happy to have a partner in crime.
The whole electrical vetting process must have changed our physical presence. Though spirits still passed through us, they no longer felt like blades of ice. It was a welcome relief, especially since I was having serious concerns about freezing to death before we delivered a single soul. The other change was that the souls could see us now, and seemed to recognizing us as figures of authority. Plus, it was as if someone had tuned the radio to a clear station. The low murmurs crystalized to understandable conversations. I cringed against the sudden noise increase.
The spirits watched us pass, some attempting to follow us to the shore, but the crowding made it difficult for them to move much beyond where they were.
After passing through the last layer of spirits at the edge of the river, the ferry came into view.
“Whoa,” I said, trying to take everything in. “That is something you don’t see every day.”
“You can say that again.” Mara took a step toward the water. “I’ve never been this close before.”
“I doubt many people have.”
The ferry was like nothing I’d ever seen—or could have conjured up on my best creative day. It sat on top of the water, as if hovering. Two giant pontoons measuring at least a fifty yards in length stretched underneath the body of the ferry. Made of wood, an intricate pattern had been carved into each float, and where the pontoon curled upward at the front, figures sprouted from the wood. On the right an angel rose from the tip, its wings curling above his head, and its right hand extended. On the left a demon stretched upward out of the wood, its left arm outstretched as if reaching for someone.
To me, the ferry looked like an ancient catamaran. The glass dome of the hull bowed over the top of the floats and wide worn steps descended into the belly of the vessel. I assumed that’s where the spirits sat, though there was quite a bit of room on the deck. Toward the front another set of carved stairs wound upward to what was probably the helm, and from where I’d steer the ferry. The only thing that didn’t look mystical and ancient were the numerous strings of party lights hanging along the outside of the hull. Charon’s personal touch, no doubt.
“Excuse me?”
I turned to see the spirit of a middle-aged woman shouldering her way to the front of the line. “Yes?”
“Do you work here?” she asked.
A ray of light broke through the cloud and glinted off the numerous sequins decorating her jade green running suit, blinding me. It seemed even in death women of a certain age gravitated to this apparel. My mom had three such warm-up suits—or cruise-wear, as I called them. Every time she wore one, her thighs made a shush—shush—shush sound that could be heard a mile away. One time I told her she needed to slow her power walk down or she’d burst into flames from the friction. She didn’t think it was funny.
I shielded my eyes with my hand and glanced at Mara, silently asking her what I should say to the spirit. She shrugged, which was no help at all, so I pasted on a smile. “Yes.”
“Finally.” The woman reached behind her and pulled a short, round man to her side. “My husband and I have been waiting forever. Wasn’t this cruise supposed to leave days ago?”
“Cruise?”
Her frosty pink lips puckered and she waved a translucent brochure at me. “Yes, we bought first-class tickets for the Eternal Sunshine cruise.”
“Me, too.” The spirit of a man, who looked like he was straight out of Hell’s Angels, stepped forward, towering over me. “I don’t like waiting.”
I backed up a few feet, but the crowd flowed forward, all talking at once. “My colleague and I are here to assess the situation.” I held up my hands, trying to quiet the spirits. “If you’ll give me your attention for a minute, I’ll explain.”
The mob fell silent. Not a peep, cough, or shuffle emanated from the multitude. Even the water seemed to stop lapping at the shore.
I swallowed hard and flashed the best cruise director smile I could muster. “I want to thank you for your patience during this inconvenient time.” I lowered my hands. “But good news, the ferry will start running later tonight.”
The crowd exploded with cheers.
Mara held up her hands, again silencing the spirits. “First we need to do a routine check on the ferry to make sure everything is operational. Once we report back to our superiors, they should give us the green light to start transporting.”
Again, the spirits burst into celebratory whoops. Not wanting to stay and answer a million questions—literally—we climbed onto the wooden dock and briskly walked along the ferry, putting distance between us and the throng of spirits. In the middle of the boat hung a ladder. For some reason I’d expected stairs or a gangway—something less piraty.
After scaling the narrow rungs, I hoisted my leg over the ledge and hefted the rest of my body onto the deck. Mara followed, clearing the side of the ferry with little effort. At its most basic, the boat appeared to be a mystical, ancient vessel. Carved railings depicted scenes of death, resurrection, and tormented souls. Square frosted panes of glass created the dome over the hull. When light broke through the clouds each piece glimmered like mother of pearl.
“It’s beautiful.” I bent and examined a scene that looked like it was straight out of Dante’s Inferno. “Kind of.”
“Yeah, I hear death-retro is back in style. Let’s check out the captain’s box.”
“Good idea.” On our trek to the front of the ferry, I ran my hand along the cord hanging from the hull. “The party lights are a nice touch.”
“I wonder what other personal touches Charon added.”
We climbed the stairs to the helm. Level with the angel and demon curling up from the tip of the pontoon, the captain’s box sat directly between them at the front of the ferry. The space was bigger than I’d expected. Though the steering wheel dominated the forward section, the rest of the helm had been decked out like a man cave. A leather couch and chair were shoved in the corner behind a coffee table. At the end of the couch an entertainment cabinet housed a stack of electronics, CDs, tapes, and albums. More party lights crisscrossed overhead, creating the impression of a ceiling, and a bar cart sat against the far side wall.
“Is that a kegorator?” I said, pointing to a mid-size refrigerator with the tap handle embedded in the front of the door.
“I hope so.” Mara plucked a plastic cup from a stack on the bar cart and yanked on the handle. Golden liquid and white foam spilled into her cup. “Sweet!” Mara said, in a high, sing-song voice. She handed me the full glass and poured one for herself. “This will make things so much better.”
“It certainly can’t hurt.” I sat down in the leather chair and propped my feet on the coffee table. The beer was icy cold and perfect. “Oh, my God, that’s nice.”
A happy growl vibrated from Mara. She licked her lips, giving an extra smack for good measure, and took a seat on the couch, also putting up her feet. “Ya know, t
his might actually be fun.” When I scowled at her, she continued. “I mean it. Our first trip might be a little rough. We have to figure out the obstacles, things we shouldn’t do, but this could be our me time.”
“You mean like pedicures and journaling?”
“Okay.” She grimaced and shrugged. “If that’s your thing. I’ll probably just read.”
“And since Nate and Cam aren’t here, there’s nobody to boss us around.” I chugged a few gulps and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. “You’re a diabolical genius.”
“You have no idea,” she said, before downing her beer.
Chapter Eight
True to his word, Hal was still waiting for us when we returned from checking out the ferry. “Did you ladies have a nice time?”
“We had a really good time, thank you very much.” I marched into the elevator. “Or should I say, no thanks to you.”
That drew a full white-toothed smile from him.
Before entering the car, Mara stopped next to the porter and speared him with her most intimidating demon glare—flames included. All that gained her was a deep chuckle. Thrusting her chin in the air and huffing with disdain, she strode into the elevator, pivoted, and crossed her arms over her chest, continuing to glower at him.
“It wouldn’t have mattered if I told you or not,” he said, stepping inside and closing the doors. “You had to be vetted before you could enter.”
“Yes, but you got a little too much joy out of watching us get blown off our feet.” I mirrored Mara’s stance, leveling the stare I used on my kids when they were being difficult. “Not cool.”
Another grunt of laughter rumbled from him and the elevator lurched sideways, starting its trek back to the physical world. The smile still playing across Hal’s mouth challenged my ability to keep quiet. It had been centuries, if not millennia, since he’d been to the river, and I was certain Hal was more than a little curious about what we’d found. But I’d be damned if I’d give him an inkling of insight. Obviously, Mara felt the same way, and we rode in silence the entire trip back.
