“They can’t be any uglier than some of the other hideous creatures we’ve seen in here,” Hawk said.
Lix planted the tip of his sword on the rocky ground and leaned on it as he spoke with Hawk. “Oh, young former human, you’ve only seen the tip of the proverbial iceberg when it comes to the ugliness of this place.”
Hawk glowered at Lix when he called him a former human, but it was true. If it hadn’t been for Lilitu’s canagh blood mixing with Hawk’s after she sliced him open, Hawk would be dead. Instead, her blood had altered his genetic makeup, turning him into a canagh demon and making it possible for him to venture this far into Hell with us. It also meant he now fed on sexual energy and wraiths, like the other canagh demons did. Hawk wasn’t exactly thrilled about his newly turned, demon status, but he agreed it was far better than death.
“That’s reassuring,” Hawk said to Lix.
“There’s nothing reassuring about Hell,” Lix replied.
The boat came close enough for me to see what looked like a bull skull staked to the bow. However, this skull was more protracted than a bull’s and its red, two-foot-long horns curved up until the tips of them touched in the middle. I didn’t know what kind of creature that skull belonged to, and I never wanted to encounter its live counterpart.
Kobal stepped away from me as another boat emerged from the shadowed tunnel and glided toward us. The hellhounds prowled the shoreline before moving to either side of me and Kobal.
Some of the massive hounds brushed by me as they walked. They rubbed their heads against my sides and nudged me until I rubbed their sleek, black coats. They resembled wolves but they were larger than lions and could rip my head off with the swipe of a paw, but I knew the beautiful animals would never hurt me.
Corson rose and stepped away from the water once more. With his connection to the water broken, the wraiths slid back beneath the surface. A grating noise sounded as the first boat slid in between two man-sized rocks to settle on the shore before us.
I glanced at Hawk when he inched back. He may be a demon now too, but this was all as new to him as it was to me. He looked about as thrilled as I felt to climb onto that craft with the robed ferryman.
Entrenched in shadows, and with the hood of its black cloak pulled over its head, it was impossible to make out many details about the ferryman standing at the stern. However, if the skelleins considered it ugly, I was content not to see its face.
“Mah rhála,” the shrouded figure greeted in a voice that brought to mind dusty crypts housing mummies. I wouldn’t be surprised to learn this thing hadn’t spoken in hundreds of years.
“English, Carion,” Kobal commanded.
“My king,” the dry voice grated out. Its head twisted an inch to the side; I couldn’t see its eyes, but I sensed its attention had shifted to me. “My queen,” it murmured.
Shivers ran over my flesh when I caught a glimpse of two burning red orbs in the area where the ferryman’s eyes would be.
“Shit,” Hawk said in a voice so low I didn’t think any of the others heard him.
The other boat slid onto the shore with a grating sound. The rocks lining the water’s edge looked like they could pierce through flesh, but they didn’t do any damage to the boats.At least they’re solidly built, I thought. Always a bonus when about to take a ride on the river of woe.
Another shrouded figure stood at the stern of the second boat, and an identical skull hung from the front of it. My fingers instinctively fluttered up to touch my shell necklace before I recalled that I’d lost it during my battle with the lanavours. My hand fell to my side as the second figure stepped forward.
“Mah rhála, mah rejant,” it said in a voice as dry as the first one.
My king. My queen, I realized.
“Speak English, Charant,” Kobal replied and the creature bowed its head.
Turning back to me, Kobal extended his hand and I took it. He walked me over to the first boat. I inspected the skull on the front as Kobal lifted me over the side and set me in the boat.
CHAPTER 3
River
I couldn’t tell how Carion steered the boat. If the thick wooden staff he dipped into the water propelled us forward, or if he dug it into the bottom of the river and guided us that way. However he did it, the boat glided seamlessly through the currents. He showed no signs of strain as he effortlessly pulled the pole from the water. Gnarled and with twisting coils of thicker wood going around it, the staff could crack someone’s head open with one blow.
Carion drew the staff out of the river and swung it over to the other side of the boat. I resisted touching the red drops that fell from the pole to glisten against the wooden bottom. I had a feeling the wraiths permeated every ounce of this water, even what fell outside of it.
Magnus and I sat on the single bench seat stretching across the middle of the boat. The others all stood with their legs braced against the current and their eyes searching the bleak passageways we traversed. I kept waiting for something to leap out at us or the rocks to come to life, but the only sound and movement came from the wraiths, the ferrymen, and the boats.
My muscles ached as I held myself rigidly and searched for any hint of danger, but at least the wraiths weren’t having an overwhelming impact on me. Goose bumps danced over my cooler flesh, but I didn’t feel as if my bones would shatter, and I could breathe without a problem.
Occasionally, a wraith would break the surface of the water near us. Hands would grapple at the air, or a warped face would emerge before the soul was dragged under again. Sometimes, the peaceful lapping of the water flowing against the hull would be broken by the thump of a wraith hitting the side, but they mostly left us alone.
My hands locked around my seat when a wraith bumped the boat. The smooth, polished wood of the boat was chestnut in color. Grains ran through it and there was an occasional, darker knot in the panels. There wasn’t enough life flowing through the wood for me to draw from it, but it was there.
