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“What if I did? Hmm? You locked me inside a fucking pocket watch so you can go run off with my brother in the woods. I fucked up, but at least I was trying to help you.”
“Did you hit your head on the way down? I didn’t go gallivanting around the seven realms looking from some half-baked Slenderman to crawl into my lady hole. I did it to save our best friend. So, before you question my judgments to justify your own, look at the whole picture. I wouldn’t be here,risking my life apparently, if I didn’t love you, and I’d go to the end of the Earth for those I care about.”
By the time she finishes speaking, her face is an inch from mine. Her eyes are hard and cold as ice. I swallow hard, trying not to look at her full lips, no matter how much I want to taste them. Only it’s not me that needed the restraint.
Her lips crush to mine, as her body bows, demanding to be closer. It’s possessive, yet sweet, as if she fears if she lets go she’ll lose me. Then it ends before I have much of a chance to savor it.
“Where to next?” she whispers against my lips.
“I don’t understand–” her finger presses to my mouth, shushing me.
“I want to be as far as possible from that fucking hole before you think it wise to throw me down there again.”
“As you wish.” My hand loops behind her neck, dragging her back to me. Her lips part for a gasp and I take it as an invitation, writing my name against her tongue. I snap my fingers as light pours through my closed eyelids, taking us to our next destination.
31
Alice
I feel the cool damp air wrap around my exposed skin, and when we part, I spin, trying to make heads or tails of where we are. I’ve lived in Hell for over a year and though confined to the castle most of it, I’ve traveled about some and never seen a place like this.
Fog clings to the air, thick enough to obscure most of everything past ten feet in front of me, but the sound of water gently rolling up to a coast tells me we’re near a shore. A green light shines in the distance, clouded, but moving closer by the second.
The shadowy figure of a boat slits the fog. A simple craft made of weathered wood, gliding through the gloom, drifting over the dark waters of the River of Styx. I’m not sure how I know for sure, but I’ve read of the ferryman, and how he transported souls. I just didn’t realize he was real, and not a story.
In Hell, the souls are judged in Limbo on the scale, and jarred in glass. They either go to Purgatory, Heaven or are shoved through a tub to be returned to The Soul Well. I’m not sure where the typical Ferryman of the Underworld I’ve read about would fit into that process.
Reading my mind… Or maybe I’ve made a face. I never truly learned how to make it use its inside voice. Kai steps behind me, leaning down to whisper in my ear. It’s as if the crickets are gossips and he’d hate for them to eavesdrop. “This lake is The Soul Well. Whatever you do, don’t touch the water or you’ll belong to it. Believe me, I’d find you in the next life, and would wait however long it takes for you to be brought back into the world, but I’d prefer you stay you as long as possible.”
The sound of the water lapping against the boat’s sides is the only thing that breaks the silence as the ferryman makes his way through the dense fog. His dank hood and cloak obscure his face as he paddles his oar, standing near the boat’s helm.
“This is Charon,” Kai says once the boat has come into view. “You might know him as the ferryman. He used the nets on the back of his boat to scoop out souls from the lake, and all around the water’s edge are pipes that send the souls where they’re needed.”
He points off to our right at one of the tubes jutting out of the water. On top of it is a faint red light. “Do you see that? It means souls are needed. He’ll lightly fill it up before taking us across.”
The boat moves smoothly and effortlessly through the blackness, as if it is a part of the river itself. Like Kai predicted, he veers toward the pipe and docks, throwing a loop of rope around it so he can dip his nets into the water, retrieving blue orbs of light. He pours them into the tube, repeating the process until the tip turns green, fulfilling his eternal task.
Next, the boat surfaces against the rocky shore in front of us and the ferryman bows. “The King of Hell, what do I owe the pleasure?”
“We could use a ride,” Kai says, dipping his head.
“The falls…” the hooded figure says, and Kai nods.
“Come, Love. He’ll take us where we need to go.” His hand tangles with mine as he helps me into the boat, being careful not to touch the water.
“Where exactly are we going?” I ask, feeling the boat rock gently over the water. There’s not much of a view besides the eerier surface of the lake around the boat and the thick fog hanging in the air. The only sounds are the soft splashing of the oars. A sense of unease creeps over me, and I squeeze Kai’s hand, hoping he’ll answer the question if nothing else but to keep me occupied.
“My mother had places–hidden gems–all around Hell. She’d use them to escape or practice her magic or steady herself. This one was her favorite, and mine, but it’s also the hardest to get to.”
The fog seems to be alive, swirling and shifting around us, as if it is trying to conceal something. I can’t shake the feeling that I am being watched, but I cannot see who or what is watching me. Peering into the water, I regret my decision immediately. Faces float beneath the surface, stretching and swirling as the boat disturbs the water, almost as if hundreds and thousands of ghosts make up the lake itself. I suppose, in a way, they do.
Suddenly, the fog parts and I catch a glimpse of a stone mountain side and the sound of running water hits my ears. The ferryman drags the boat up to the shoreline and Kai helps me out after paying the hooded figure with odd looking square coins.
“Will you need a ride back, my king?” the creature asks, his voice graveled as if he was over a hundred years old and barely grasping to life himself.
“No, thank you.” As the boat pulls away, Kai returns to my side, holding out his hand for me to replace mine in it. “We can’t portal in here. You’ll see why, but we can portal out. It protects it from unwanted visitors, since the ferryman won’t just let anyone cross The Soul Well.”
We stroll along a narrow stone path, splitting the dense foliage in two until the rocky mountain path opens up into a valley, like a punch bowl. There’s only one entrance unless you somehow can fly down into it. Crystals make up most of the mountain side, but not just any crystals. Quartz. The same quartz I used to make a barrier trap for Asmo, which makes the path we came on the only access in and out of the valley.
