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Hawthorne pulls himself from my mouth, leaning down to kiss me, South’s hands on my hips, Lennox resting his cheek against my back, holding onto me as if holding on for dear life.
And we are. Holding on to the precious slivers of time.
“Will I remember this in the Underworld?” I ask Hawthorne, knowing he is the only one who has gone before us.
“I couldn’t remember anything from before I became a demon,” he tells me. “You aren’t a demon. You’re the daughter of Hades, which means you’re different than anyone else there. Maybe you’ll be able to experience something there that I never could.”
“Maybe he will take one look at me and try to kill me,” I say.
South plucks my nipples, the warm afterglow of sex coating our skin. “You’ll already be dead.”
“True. Then I guess you will have to wait and see...”
“Be strong,” Lennox tells me. “You are going here to find your mother, that’s what your half-sisters seemed to imply.”
“How am I supposed to find a stranger in the Underworld?” I shake my head but Hawthorne gasps.
“What?” I ask.
“I think I know. I think... I remember, Ten.”
“Remember what?” I ask, rolling off of South, and letting him cradle me in his arms, all of us wrapped around one another in the bed.
Hawthorne leans up on his elbows. “I was down there when she came.”
“Who came.”
“Persephone. She was Hade’s’ wife. But he was angry with her and he locked her in a cage.”
“A cage?” I ask.
Hawthorne nods. “Yes, a cage. Deep in the Asphodel Meadows.”
“How do I get there?” I ask, my head spinning. Might my mother be Persephone? My father Hades?
And yet I’ve been stuck here in Styx most of my life?
“When you get off Charon’s ferry, you must follow the sound of the living. It is the only place in the Underworld where life can continue, after death.”
“How will I find it, though?” I ask, trying not to become overwhelmed.
“If it’s truly your mother, try to listen, to hear her. Most of the sounds there are moans and echoes of some past life -- but she may be able to call to you, feel your presence.”
“If Gaia sent Eric to you, there is a bigger purpose yet.”
“I don’t want a purpose if it is without you.”
“Too bad, Goddess,” South says with a smirk.
“Goddess?” I scoff, only want to relish this moment where I lie naked in their arms.
“Yes, you are the daughter of Persephone and Hades,” South says. “I only wonder why you’ve been hidden for so long.”
“Hades is forbidden to come to Styx,” Hawthorne says. “Right? Which means someone put here her for a reason, to protect her. And if Persephone was already locked away for several years... it couldn’t have been her.”
“Then who?” Lennox asks.
I gasp, beginning to piece my story together. “Gaia.”
19
Tennyson
The horn sounds and we move from the bed wordlessly, our bodies spent and our hearts nearly breaking now that it is time to say goodbye.
We dress silently, putting ourselves together before we descend the stairs and leave the empty house for another soul to find it. I cling to my memories, knowing they are the only high that will get me through whatever happens next.
I have a job to do. My sisters --strangers in my family tree-- are counting on me.
I won’t let them down if I can help it.
Charon is at the tollbooth with the same greedy look in his eyes.
“Did Eric pass through to the surface?” I ask, the words taking so much effort to utter.
Charon nods, and while it is not exactly assurance, it is the only thing I have to go by.
“It’s time to go, dearly departed,” he snarls, as if he loves watching people pass to the other side, though what a twisted pleasure it is.
Other faded souls are moving toward the ferry. I can see them faintly as they hover around the boat.
I lean in to kiss Hawthorne, South, and Lennox for a final time, but the ferry is already moving.
“Don’t go,” he cries.
But it’s too late.
I want to say I love them, will always love them, but I can’t pull them in my arms anymore. My soul is on the ferryboat and it’s leaving the dock.
But I can still see them and I watch them as the boat moves away, into the darkness of the night.
Charon’s ferry takes us down the river crammed full of souls; not a one of us knowing what lies beyond.
And I’m the only one living among the dead.
* * *
When we pass into the Underworld, my vision changes, sharpens. It’s like I can stand on my own two feet, take in a full breath of air, pull back my shoulders and shake out my hair.
I look down and see my hands are intact. My feet firmly planted on the boat. I lick my lips, I press my palms to my throat, my chest.
