He’d insisted on taking the star-metal from me, and still carried it in his hand.
“Maybe Jake wouldn’t have been able to create the key anyway,” I said, looking for some kind of consolation. “Metalshaping is getting harder and harder for him now that Hephaistos is dead.”
“Really?” Syl looked worried. “Do you think there will come a time when metalshapers won’t be able to shape at all?”
She was asking me, but Apollo answered. “I’d say that was almost certain. There are several of us who lend our strengths to the fireshapers, but Hephaistos was the only god of metalshaping. He was too jealous of his role to share it.”
“So what then? Metalshaping just dies out?” I shook my head. That seemed crazy. “Can’t you take over?”
“Unfortunately, it doesn’t work like that. Zeus would have to create a new god for the role.”
“He’s created new gods before. So that shouldn’t be a problem, then.”
“It’s not that easy, even for Zeus. He can’t just elevate anyone. It would have to be someone with a special talent already. Take you, for instance.” He ran an assessing eye over me, his expression making it pretty clear that he didn’t find much potential there. “He could probably turn you into a god of thieves, although Hermes might have something to say to that. But he could no more make you a goddess of metalshaping than a goddess of wisdom. You just don’t have the talent.”
Syl gave him a sharp look. Maybe she wasn’t as taken with him as I’d feared. “Lexi would make a great goddess of wisdom. She’s smart and resourceful.”
I grinned at Syl. Yeah, you tell him. She was the most loyal friend I’d ever had.
Apollo made an impatient noise. “Anyway, it makes no difference. Zeus is missing, too, and even if he were here, it’s very unlikely he would create a new god or goddess.”
“Even to save metalshaping?” Syl looked incredulous.
“We gods are jealous of our power, and none more so than Zeus. There are perhaps a hundred minor godlings, but only twelve Olympians. There’s a reason for that, you know. It’s something great to be one of twelve. No one wants to be one of twelve hundred.”
“Yeah,” I said, “but now your exclusive little club is down to eleven members.”
“Well, if we ever find him, you can take it up with Zeus.”
Smug bastard. Were all the gods as infuriatingly self-satisfied? I clenched my fists and reminded myself that Hades had never made me want to punch him in the face.
Besides, maddening as it was, I had to admit he had a point. There was nothing we could do about it without the father of the gods, so there was no point wasting any further brainpower on it. Was Jake right, and I just liked arguing with people? Thinking of Jake and his stupid self-sacrifice made me miserable. I was going to slap him silly once I’d saved him. How could he do a thing like that? Didn’t he care about me? About us? There I was, thinking we had a great thing going, and all he was thinking about was Apollo.
I fell silent for the rest of the walk across the field, hardly noticing as the shadows of fading souls slipped past among the mists. Occasionally, Cerberus’s deep bark floated back to us from where he ranged ahead, but I was lost in thought, racking my brains for a way to free Jake in time. I had only just begun to wonder how much further it was when the massive laughing clown gate loomed out of the swirling shadows. It stood open and Cerberus waited beneath the huge teeth, his tail wagging encouragingly. Just down the slope on the other side of the gate was the River Styx and the wharf where Charon’s ferry delivered new souls to the afterlife.
The ferry was not in evidence as we passed through the gate and headed down to the wharf. In all the myths I’d heard, the gate was meant to be closed tight and guarded by Cerberus, to ensure that none of the souls escaped back to the real world. The fact that the gate now stood open and Cerberus appeared to be free to do whatever the hell he liked suggested to me that Hades had modified his defences over the centuries. I’d never seen a soul leave through these gates once it had entered, so whatever the new system was, it was clearly working.
I walked out onto the wharf, my boots loud against the wooden planks. “Styx,” I called. “Are you there?”
The mist drifted and writhed into new shapes at the sound of my voice, but nothing else stirred. There was no sign of the dark-haired nymph, and I felt like a bit of an idiot standing there shouting into the aether.
“She could be anywhere,” Apollo said. “This river runs through the whole underworld.”
Gosh, really? Thank goodness he was here to point out the obvious. “Do you have any better idea of how to summon her, then?” Really, that face. So punchable.
“None whatsoever.”
Syl came to stand at my side. “Maybe you have to be in the water. If it’s her river, she ought to be aware of everything that happens in it.”
“Maybe.” At least Syl was trying to be helpful, unlike Captain Obvious. “But I don’t fancy getting in there. Have you seen the things that live in this river?”
There was no sign now of the writhing bodies and eternally tormented screaming faces, but I hadn’t forgotten them. They’d probably still be featuring in my nightmares forty years from now, assuming I lived that long.
Maybe putting my hand in the water would be enough, though even that prospect made me jumpy as hell. “Styx! Styx, are you there?”
The mist deadened my voice, swallowing it. I sighed. It was worth a try. I pulled my knife and handed it to Syl, hilt first. “If something grabs me, stab it.”
She nodded, eyes wide, and crouched at my side as I knelt down, leaning over the dark water. I managed—barely—not to flinch as I dunked my hand in the river. Nothing reached out to pull me in. Nothing bit my hand off, nor even nibbled on a finger. Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling that this could all go pear-shaped horribly fast. “Styx! Where are you? We need to talk.”
Silence was my only reply. I wriggled my fingers, swirling my hand through the black river. Something brushed against my fingers and I leapt back with a start.
Syl jumped, too, letting out a squawk of surprise. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.” I felt a little ashamed of my nerves. Was I a cat to be so scared of the water? “I thought I felt something, that’s all.”
“Did someone call my name?” a new voice asked, and we both jumped again. It was Styx, of course, and my relief at seeing her was tempered by my annoyance at the way she’d sneaked up on us. I could tell from the smirk on her face that she’d done it on purpose. “Who’s your friend? What have you done with that other gorgeous creature you were travelling with?”
I stood up and dragged Syl back a few steps, keen to have a respectable distance between her and us. “This is Syl, and he’s Apollo.”
She gave me a withering look. “I know who Apollo is, thank you.” She nodded at Apollo, and he inclined his head in return. “I didn’t expect to see you back here so early. You still have a handful of hours before your time runs out. Where is the fireshaper?”
“That’s what I need to talk to you about.” Her brows drew together and I hurried on. “He’s been taken captive by some other fireshapers. It’s going to take me a little while to free him. I need an extension on that deadline.”
“Did I not do as you asked?”
“Yes, but—”
“Did I not carry you across my river when you asked it?” The water around her stirred, the surface becoming choppy with small waves. Her eyes were full of storms. “I kept my side of the bargain, and now you come to me seeking to renege on yours.” The waves reached a little higher, slapping at the wooden pillars of the wharf. Syl took a wary step back.
“We’ll keep your bargain.” I eyed the rising water with concern. I wouldn’t put it past her to sweep us all into the river in a snit. “I just need a little more time. Please.”
“Ah. There’s that magic word.” She glared at me, eyes still stormy. “And yet I find I am completely unmoved. We had a barga
in. No ifs, buts, or maybes. I kept my side of the deal, now you must keep yours.”
Infuriating woman! Didn’t she understand? “Jake isn’t trying to skip out on his side of the deal. If you just give us a little more time to free him, he’ll be back here. If you kill him just because he didn’t come back at the exact moment you wanted, how does that benefit anyone? You don’t get what you want, and neither do we.”
Black water swirled around her milk-white shoulders, showing glimpses of the tormented souls that seemed the essence of the river. I tried very hard to keep my eyes on her face, repelled by that water. Her face settled into a sneer. “You can rant and argue all you want, but it doesn’t change anything. From the moment I set my mark on him, there was no turning back. If he doesn’t return at the appointed hour, he will die, and there is nothing you nor I can do to stop it. So I suggest you stop whining and get on with rescuing him.” She sank down until the water closed over her head without a ripple.
I stared at the spot where she’d disappeared, rage filling my heart. If the bitch hadn’t kissed him in the first place, there wouldn’t be a problem. I spun on my heel and stalked back along the wharf to the shore where Apollo waited. I couldn’t even look at his face—I knew what I’d see there. And if the words “I told you so” came out of his mouth, I was definitely giving in to my impulses and punching him.
“What now?” Syl said.
I turned back to her. Wordlessly, she held out my knife, and I took it, slamming it back into its sheath. Good question. I was all out of ideas.
Across the water, the mist began to boil. Was Styx returning? Had she changed her mind? Syl turned to follow the direction of my gaze.
Cerberus barked and trotted out onto the wharf, his nails clicking on the hard wood. Out of the mists a shape appeared—not Styx; it was much too big for that.
Charon’s ferry had arrived.
I stood watching as a line snaked out from the side of the ferry and wrapped around a bollard all by itself. This ferryman had no need of a deckhand. The ferry bumped to a gentle stop against the wharf and the gangway extended from the side. Grey figures began to file down in orderly lines. Cerberus watched them intently, alert for any attempt by the new souls to break away from the pack or escape their fate. I contemplated the ferry, the germ of an idea taking root in my mind.
“What are we going to do?” Syl asked as the last of the newly dead filed past and began their trek up the slope to the gate.
“Do you know Charon at all?” I asked Apollo over my shoulder.
He moved up to stand by my side. “I’ve met him once or twice. Seems pleasant enough. Why?”
“Do you think he’d let us borrow his ferry for a little while?”
Two sets of eyes stared at me in astonishment. “Borrow his ferry?” Apollo repeated. “Whatever for?”
I gazed down the river, though I couldn’t see very far through the all-pervading mist. If we rode its tormented waters far enough, eventually we would arrive at the place where it met the Phlegethon, where Styx had built her revolting bridge of body parts. Right near the entrance to Tartarus.
“I think I know someone who might help us, but we don’t have time to get there cross-country.” Not if we had to go on foot, and Cerberus couldn’t carry us all. Even if he could, it might still take too long. “But the river would deliver us right to his door.”
“If you mean Hephaistos, forget it,” Apollo said impatiently. “He can’t work a physical object like the star-metal now he’s dead.”
“Thank you, Captain Obvious. Not Hephaistos. Someone else. Will Charon take us there if you ask him?”
“The living aren’t allowed on the ferry. I don’t think—”
Syl laid a hand on his arm. “Please, Apollo. Just ask him. What harm can it do?”
Apollo’s face softened as he looked down at her. “All right. I’ll ask him. You wait here.”
“Let me mind that for you while you do,” I said, nodding at the bar of star-metal he still held. He rolled his eyes, but surrendered the precious bar into my care.
Then he stalked along the wharf and up the gangway, disapproval in every stiff line of his body. I was starting to wonder about all the myths that painted him as this wild, fun-loving guy. Either he’d changed a lot or the myth writers were telling a lot of porkies.
Once he’d disappeared inside, I caught at Syl’s arm. “Come on.”
“But he said to wait here!”
“So? You know that Charon’s going to say no. We don’t have much time.” Normally, the ferry cast off as soon as the last passengers were unloaded. I wasn’t risking getting left behind.
Once we were safely up the gangway, Cerberus padding along behind us, I took off my backpack and shoved it at her. “Hold this.”
“What are you doing?”
“Saving Jake.” I pulled the Helm of Darkness from my pack and jammed it onto my head. Syl’s eyes went wide as I disappeared.
I left her there, clutching my backpack, and set off to find Apollo and the ferryman, the bar of star-metal held firmly in my right hand. I moved quietly, following the sound of voices—Apollo’s annoying velvet tones, and the deeper rumble of another man’s voice. I’d never actually seen Charon, though I’d watched the ferry come in a number of times since I’d been in the underworld.
The interior of the ferry was filled with rows of seating, just like a commuter ferry in the real world. Maybe the familiarity was meant to calm the newly dead on their way to the afterlife. The main difference was the lack of graffiti on the walls. A staircase in the middle led up to the top deck.
I took the stairs and moved toward the bow, still following the voices. The bridge was at the front of the ferry, with windows all around giving the helmsman a view of the mist and the dark river. It was separated from the passenger section by a sliding door which stood open at the moment. That was good—Charon was sure to get suspicious if the door to the bridge started to open of its own accord. Inside, Apollo was smiling at a thin, bearded man whose long hair straggled down past his shoulders. The thin man had one hand resting possessively on the ship’s wheel, and the other planted firmly on his hip.
“Absolutely not,” he said. “My ferry does not divert from its course.”
“I assure you, Charon, Hades would give his full approval if he were here.” Apollo kept smiling the whole time, an almost irresistible, wheedling kind of smile that made me want to give him whatever he was asking for—and he wasn’t even asking me. I had to admit, the smile made a huge difference to his normally grumpy face. Maybe I could see the attraction after all. It was just that he’d never smiled at me that way.
Charon, unfortunately, didn’t seem to have any trouble resisting the sun god’s charms. “But Hades is not here, is he? And I can’t abandon my duty at the whim of every god who happens by.”
Judging by the frustration on Apollo’s face, he was out of arguments. Looked like it was my turn. I slipped into the small room with them and hit Charon on the back of his head with the bar of star-metal.
He crumpled to the floor in a most satisfying way.
Apollo leapt out of the way, confusion on his face. I removed the Helm of Darkness and the confusion cleared. “What in the name of Hades are you doing running around with the Helm? He’ll skin you alive if he ever finds out.”
“So don’t tell him.” I stuck my head out the door and called for Syl.
Apollo shook his head, staring down at the felled ferryman. “Did you have to hit him so hard?”
“No, of course not.” I knelt down to check Charon’s pulse. It was still strong, thank goodness. He’d only have a headache to show for this little adventure. “Only if we didn’t want to take the ferry.”
Syl appeared, breathing hard, and gazed down at Charon. “Is he dead?”
“No thanks to your friend here if he was,” Apollo snapped. “Is she always this …”
“Unpredictable? Violent? Resourceful?” Syl grinned at me. “Yes. Yes, she is.”
She nearly choked, but quickly recovered herself and pretended to consider it.
“You can’t throw him overboard!” Apollo roared. “He is Charon the Ferryman, son of Nyx, the Goddess of the Night!”
“I guess you’d better tie him up, then.”
And that was how the great god Apollo came to be trussing Charon the Ferryman like a chicken being prepared for roasting while I eyed the control panel of the fabled ferry of the dead and hoped like hell I could back it away from the wharf without taking out the whole structure.
“Any last words?” I muttered to Syl as the deck beneath me began to vibrate with the throbbing of the great engines. She seemed in a much better mood, even humming to herself as she stood at my side, watching the grey world swing past outside as the ferry began its ponderous turn. Must have been the prospect of finally getting her collar off that made her so chirpy.
“You’re doing great,” she said. “Full speed ahead, and watch out for pirates.”
I snorted. Where we were going, pirates would be the least of our troubles.
16
Gradually, my fingers unclenched their death grip on the ship’s wheel as the ferry moved down the black river. Syl was right—I had this. I could drive a car, and this was no different. Easier, in fact. All I had to do was point the bow in the direction I wanted to go.
Syl stood beside me, scanning the mists outside. Apollo had carried Charon into the main passenger area and laid him out across a row of seats to make him more comfortable. Or at least as comfortable as anyone can be whose hands and feet are securely tied with one of their own ropes. Charon was not going to be a happy camper when he woke up, but that would be Apollo’s problem. I had enough of my own already.
Rivers of Hell (Shadows of the Immortals Book 3) Page 16
