by P. J. Hoover
We start down the tunnel. There’s a breeze blowing through it, and each time it touches my arm, it caresses me. Even though I can hardly see him, I feel Shayne walking next to me, almost like he has some sort of energy field. I sidle closer to him, and he stops walking, and then I’m up against the cave wall in the darkness.
“Piper.” His voice catches when he says my name.
He’s pressing against me, his warmth at my front, and the cold, hard stone wall behind me. His breath covers my face, and I’m tempted to move forward and kiss him.
But he puts a hand on my cheek. “I need to ask you something.”
“What?” I wrap my arms around him and pull him closer. I run my hands up his back, under his shirt, feeling his hard muscles which shiver at my touch. Shayne puts me in a place of comfort I’ve never known existed.
“Do you want to be here?”
I nod in the darkness.
“Do you want to see my world?”
I do. For reasons beyond my explanation, I am drawn to Shayne. To Hell. Even the stones in this tunnel seem to draw me in, making me feel like I belong.
“You have to answer me. Even if you weren’t here for Chloe, would you want to be here?”
“Yes.” And I lean my head forward again, and this time, our lips meet, and we kiss, and his mouth tastes like burning sweetness. There is no way I’ve only known Shayne a week. Our kiss screams volumes in my mind, making me sure I’ve known him forever. I trace my fingers up his spine, and he lets out a small groan. I wouldn’t have thought it possible, but he pushes himself closer until every bit of our bodies touches. Against my chest, his heart beats, joining the pounding of my own. His hands are at my shoulders, then my neck, then down at my waist.
They start to travel downward to my hips, but then he stops, pulling his head away and pushing back from me, leaving me unsatisfied and wanting more. He gasps and steps backward, taking deep breaths matching my own. I can’t move, because I can’t get enough air to make my mind think, and we stand there in silence in the dark of the tunnel.
“That’s nice,” he says when his breathing has slowed.
I still can’t move, though if I could, it would be back to him. “Yeah, nice.”
“Thank you,” he says.
“For what?”
“For trusting me. And being with me.”
“I might never leave,” I say.
He lets out a laugh. “And I might never let you.”
He takes my hand, and we again walk down the tunnel. The warmth grows with every step we take, but the breeze continues, making it almost balmy. Soon the tunnel begins to grow lighter, and I see flickering, like flames of a fire, ahead in the distance.
“We’re almost there.” His hand snakes up to my neck, and he gives it a quick squeeze. And then we turn a final corner, and the world erupts in light ahead of us.
I turn to Shayne and laugh. “You live here?” When I thought of Hell in the past, I always figured it to be black and fiery.
He leads me down a couple steps into the room before me. The smooth, white walls look like they get polished hourly. The pristine floor is decorated with a giant mosaic in tiny black and red tiles stretching the entire distance of the room. It’s a design of red flowers growing off black vines. A design which reminds me of drawings I made as a child. In the center of the room sits a coffee table with cut gems inlaid in the circular top and red and black chairs surrounding it. The colored gems of the table are arranged in bouquets of flowers—lotuses and orchids, with stems twisting around each other, forming a continuous design.
“Did you expect something else?” Shayne asks.
I turn to him, dragging my eyes away from the table and the amazing mosaic floor. “Well, yeah. Look at this place.”
He looks around. “You don’t like it?”
“Of course I like it. How could I not like it? I mean, it’s fantastic.”
Shayne smiles and sits on a black chair. “Someone with impeccable taste designed it.”
An enormous pang of jealousy rockets through me when I realize he must be talking about Persephone. And I think that even if she is gone like he’s said, I may never be able to compete with any memories of her. I close my eyes and stem the envy running through me.
He gestures at a red chair, and I sit down, sinking into the plush leather, letting it swallow me like I want this whole world to do with each second that passes. Shayne waves his hand over the table, and a bottle of wine and two glasses appear on the bed of colored flowers.
“Isn’t there some myth about eating or drinking in the Underworld?”
Shayne picks up the bottle. He uncorks it and fills the two red crystal wine goblets halfway. At this point, I don’t mind drinking it if it means I could stay here with Shayne forever.
“Yes, a myth.” He smiles and hands me my glass.
I take it but don’t put it to my lips. “Is it true?”
“Do you want it to be?”
I smile and put the glass to my mouth, taking a long drink. “Yes. I want it to be.” I think about my mom for some reason, right as I drink it, and try to imagine her reaction to what I’m doing. Sitting with Hades in the Underworld drinking wine. And she told me to stay in all weekend.
“Something funny?”
It’s not really funny. “I was just thinking about my mom.”
Shayne takes a sip of his own wine. “Your mom has issues.”
It’s funny he should realize this after knowing me for such a short period of time. But it’s not like I can deny it. “She’s not that bad.”
“Maybe we shouldn’t think about your mom.”
Shayne’s right. Thinking about my mom and what she would do if she saw me now is laughable but also a mood dampener. So I push her out of my mind.
I motion down to the floor. “I love your mosaic.” It’s complicated, and the flowers sort of shift depending on what angle I look at it from.
“I can’t take credit for the design.” His eyes meet mine when he says it, and my jealousy resurfaces. He seems like he wants me to ask more about it, but I decide against it. I vow not to think about Persephone again because I’m here and she’s not.
“Well, it is beautiful.” I look around the room, away from our chairs. The far wall holds a bookcase stacked with volumes of leather bound books. I stand and move toward it, bringing my glass of wine with me. It’s so different than the wine I had with Reese last night. Sweeter and warmer.
When Reese pops into my mind, my heart races. I turn to Shayne who’s looking at me but doesn’t say a word, and I pray mind reading is not a skill the Lord of the Underworld possesses. I look back to the books.
“You have a nice collection.”
Shayne gets up and joins me. His hand touches me at the nape of the neck, sending a shiver down to my toes. “I like to read.”
It’s an amazing response from an amazing guy.
Inset in the bookcases is a framed map. “What’s that?”
“The Underworld.” Shayne traces his finger over the network of rivers on the map. “There are five rivers in the Underworld. Boundaries between the lands.” He points across one of the rivers. “And here are the Elysian Fields…”
“The what?”
“Elysian Fields. They’re kind of like the nice place,” he says. “The place you get to go when you’ve been really good.”
“Like Heaven?”
“Some people call it that.”
A lump forms in my throat before I can stop it. “Is that where Chloe would go?”
Shayne’s hand settles on mine, and he nods. “Of course.”
“I don’t want her to die.”
“I know,” he says. “But you promised you’d at least consider.”
The lump stays in my throat. Chloe is my best friend. But I did promise. “I want to see it.”
“Anytime you’re ready.”
I reach for my glass and take a final sip of wine. It seeps through me, tickling as it goes. “I’m ready.”
Shayne sets my glass on a shelf along with his own—two red glasses on a shelf of black. He reaches out his hand, and I place mine in his. His hand is so large, it wraps entirely around mine, reminding me of Reese’s hands. But I push Reese far from my mind. Shayne brushes my cheek with his other hand. “Then let’s go see paradise.”
Chapter 15
Paradise
When we come out of the tunnel and reach the shore, tree limbs hang low, covered in ice crystals which sparkle everywhere, bouncing off the snowy ground under our feet. Dampness is thick in the air. This river is frozen, and even though we’ve entered a winter wonderland, I look at Shayne, now bundled in a sweatshirt and jeans, and frown.
He waves his hand in front of me, and my clothes change. I’m now dressed in jeans, boots, and a Shearling wool coat covering to my knees. They say there used to be stores that carried nothing but winter clothes, but now the only places that sell them are indoor resort areas. Back when I was like eight, my mom took me and my friend Charlotte to a resort in Virginia. Once I got past the awe of seeing fake snow fall from the ceiling, we spent the day skiing and skating and making snowballs. My mom even skated though she spent most of her time falling on her butt. It was only years later that I realized the day must have cost her a small fortune, but she never said a word about it.
Shayne takes a step from the snowy ground out onto the ice. “It’s solid. You can jump on it if you want.”
I look down at myself and then stare at him. “You can change my clothes?”
He laughs. “I’m a god, Piper. I can do anything.”
I narrow my eyes. “Anything?”
Humor plays on his face. “Well, there are rules, but it’s fun to find ways to break them.”
I don’t answer. My mind flickers back to the earlier conversation about rules in the Underworld. There are apparently some rules Shayne isn’t willing to break. But I decide against bringing it up. All I want to do right now is enjoy this icy paradise with the guy I want to be my soulmate.
I reach a foot out, barely touching it to the slick ice. But my foot slips out from under me, and I fall on my butt.
Shayne laughs.
“What? It’s not like I’ve had much time to practice ice skating in Texas.” Austin used to have a public rink, but it went private when energy rates got too high, and then it closed entirely. Even with solar power, the cost of the A/C was exponential. I put my hands on the ground and try to get up, but I fall again, and Shayne only laughs harder. So I kick my leg out and swipe it against his feet, sending him falling to the ground next to me.
“That’s not fair,” he says. But his eyes sparkle even as he reaches out and tries to grab me.
I slide backward and push myself up on my hands. “It seems fair to me.”
Overhead, a breeze comes our way, rustling the frost-laden branches and sending handfuls of frozen crystals raining down onto the ice. It sounds like a symphony of bells and continues for over a minute. I look upward at the trees, letting the chill in the air and the warmth of the sky hit my face, and I suck in the fresh air. I know Shayne’s watching me. But I don’t look, instead closing my eyes and enjoying the song.
When it’s over, I try to move again, and within a few steps, I remember how to walk on the stuff. Standing there, stable, I actually have time to look out across the ice. “Why is it frozen?”
Shayne slides over to me. “It’s Cocytus. The river of lamentation. But there’s nothing to be sorry about when you’re going to the Elysian Fields, so it’s frozen over to make crossing easier.”
The ice is thick, and far below I see the monsters, trapped but still moving. If there was no ice, what would these monsters feed on with the sorrows all gone?
I shift my eyes away from the monsters and back to the shimmering world in front of me. “I never thought there would be ice in Hell.” And certainly not an icy wonderland, especially since my mom’s always talking about how horrible winter used to be. But even in my coat, I shiver when a blast of cold air hits me. Shayne moves closer and wraps a warm arm around me.
“So you thought it would be all fire and torture?”
I nod, and he laughs.
“So there’s no fire and torture?” I ask.
“We have our share of that, too. But we’re not going to Tartarus today.”
“What’s Tartarus?”
Shayne leans close and whispers in my ear. “It’s where the bad people go.” And then he turns my face toward him and smiles. “It’s what gives Hell such a bad reputation.”
“Sounds intriguing.” I laugh when I say it, but part of me does want to see the fire. To see if it really is as scary as all the images of Hell I’ve been fed my entire life. I want to see everything in Shayne’s world.
“Intriguing is a good word for it,” Shayne says. His exposed skin’s picked up an icy layer which makes him look like he has smoke curling off him.
“I’d like to see it.”
His face falls a bit though he tries to hide it behind a quick smile. “Let’s just keep you out of Tartarus. It’s a nasty, dirty place.” He says it casually, but his voice tells me it’s not a suggestion.
Which makes me want to see it more. Does he really think I’m so weak I can’t handle it? “It’s part of your world. You said you’d show me.”
“Not Tartarus. Not this time.”
He drops it, so I drop it. And soon, we’re on the other side.
Shayne slides up to a dock, implanted in the thick ice, and gestures with his arm to the shore—to the people there. “Piper, this is paradise.”
Every single person in the Elysian Fields looks like it’s the best day of their lives. I guess really it would be the best day of their deaths, since everyone here is dead. But if a single person is sad about being dead, they aren’t showing it. I spot three beach volleyball games, at least fifteen couples making out, and enough sandcastles being built, it’s like an entire kingdom made of sand. And all I can think about is how much Chloe would love it here. We could play on the beach and not have to worry about the scorching sun overhead.
But I wouldn’t be here with her, and I don’t want her to leave me.
“So what does it take to get here?” I know billions of people have died over the course of history, but paradise isn’t that crowded. There must be some sort of entry requirements.
Shayne laughs. “Well, getting on my good side can’t hurt.”
I tilt my head, trying to look sweet. “Am I on your good side?”
Shayne brushes my cheek with the back of his hand. “Definitely.”
I motion with my hand at the beach. “And all these people got on your good side?”
“Sort of.” Shayne links my arm, and we start walking on the long dock. It’s slick with the frozen ice of the river, but my booted feet grip the grainy wood underneath. “It’s the people who’ve done something to help others that mostly get here. The ones who don’t only think of themselves.” He turns, and his eyes meet mine. “People like Chloe.”
I nod but don’t trust myself to answer. Even if this is paradise, it’s not time for Chloe to die. She can live the rest of her life, and then, when she’s old and gray, we can come to the Elysian Fields together.
I step down from the dock, and my feet warm at once, making my boots unnecessary. It seems the boundary between the icy cold of Cocytus and the warmth of the Elysian Fields is immediate. I look at Shayne. “So…”
He looks back. “So what?”
I motion down at my clothes: the jeans, boots, and coat. “Are you going to change my clothes again?”
He gives me a look which makes me want to both kiss him and punch him in the stomach at the same time. “Are you coming on to me?” he says.
I start to pull off the coat. “Whatever.” I wonder what I have on underneath the clothes, but I never get the chance to find out. Shayne waves his arm again, and I’m back in my tank top and shorts.
I close my eyes and let the heat of the two suns warm my s
kin. Shayne walks over to me and touches my arm, brushing my tattoo, and a chill runs down my body.
The tattoo catches my eye. It looks lighter, like it’s vanishing, but the skin is still raised underneath.
“It’s fading.” I’m not sure what it means. “Is Chloe—?”
“—fine.” Shayne rubs the tattoo again, and the color returns, each Greek letter darkening at his touch. “She’s just like we left her. I gave you my word.”
I stare at the tattoo. “Have we been gone long?” Is the fading a bad sign for her? Is she dying—again?
But Shayne shakes his head. “No time has passed.” He holds my chin with his thumb and forefinger, and his eyes meet my own. In his eyes, red flashes within the chocolate brown.
“Thank you,” I say. His words settle the lump that’s been surfacing in my throat every time I think of Chloe. The image of her and the horrible, beautiful winged man.
“Piper!”
I turn at the sound of the voice, and I see a child running toward me on the beach. She’s wearing shorts and a T-shirt, and her long brown hair trails after her as she runs.
“Charlotte?”
She laughs, and when she reaches me, I let go of Shayne and grab her into a giant hug because I can’t really believe she’s here. She was my best friend from childhood, but Leukemia came along with a fury and took her away from me in sixth grade. But now that she’s here, I never want to let her go.
“Piper! You’re so pretty. So grown up.”
“Charlotte…” I’m not sure what to say. I feel like I’m back six years ago, running around, watering plants in our shop. We were inseparable—my mom even approved, and then Charlotte left me. Like Chloe almost left me today. “I’m so sorry.”
Charlotte pulls back from me and reaches up to my eyes. “Piper, you’re crying.” Her face is soft, and her hand moves up and touches her mouth as if she’s trying to make sense of my words.
I realized I haven’t been clear. “You were so young. You had your whole life ahead of you. And then it was over. Just like that.”
Charlotte’s face lights up, and her smile returns. “Don’t cry, Piper. I’m so happy. Even my dog is here with me.” And on cue, the Yorkie she used to have is next to her, pawing at her leg for attention.
