Unhinged

by Chani Lynn Feener

  “These are different circumstances,” he tried to explain. “You aren’t like they were.”

  A rush of anger hit her. “Are you saying I’m not strong enough?”

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying,” he confirmed. Ferris was on his feet in less time than it took for her to blink, the scowl now firmly back in place. “Let those hopes die, Spencer Perry, like you should have done three months ago.”

  Now the other two gasped, obviously knowing what he was referring to.

  “I can’t,” she said.

  He shook his head and took a step back, turning just as the bell rang and everyone got up to rush off to classes. He was instantly swallowed up in the din. But even though she could no longer see him, she heard his voice loud and clear, almost as if he were right next to her.

  “Then you doom us all.”

  * * *

  “That was an interesting display of knowledge back there.”

  Spencer jolted and almost tripped over her math text book when he spoke. She’d just gotten home and entered her room, looking forward to seeing Micah. But that was most definitely not his voice.

  Her eyes went wide and she frantically searched the rest of the room, but as far as she could tell it was just the two of them.

  “Don’t worry,” Ferris grunted. “I haven’t taken him. Yet.”

  “Then—” Before she could finish her sentence Micah appeared right next to her, and she banded her arms around his trim waist without much thought. Luckily, he anticipated in time and solidified enough so that when she’d circled him completely she didn’t just go right through.

  She sighed at the feel of a solid surface around her, of his chest against her cheek. For a split second, she regretted the lack of body heat, but she quickly forced that thought away. How dare she be upset over something so trivial when she was lucky enough to even have him here!

  “Just because I let a few demigods pass doesn’t mean I make a habit of it,” Ferris went on, obviously bored by their affection. “And even if I did make an exception for you, you wouldn’t be thanking me for it later.”

  “Why not?” she asked.

  “Because there’s nothing for you there. The Underworld is the land of the dead, Spencer. As of right now, you don’t fit the bill. Lover boy on the other hand,” he motioned towards Micah, “does. Come on, this is getting childish. You are dead, what does it matter if you stay here? There’s nothing for you.”

  “There’s her,” Micah shot back, his grip tightening around her.

  “You can hold that position for, what? Another two minutes, tops? Yes, a real good future I see for the two of you. Her locked away with a ghost, completely cut off from human contact because no one else can understand just why it is she never even bothered trying to fall in love again. You, separated from your loved ones for eternity—”

  “What are you talking about?”

  Sensing that this was exactly the type of question Ferris wanted Micah to ask, Spencer cut him off before he could answer. The last thing she needed was for them to lose control of this conversation.

  “You said that you were just one of many,” she said. “How many Ferryman are there?”

  He shrugged. “A few. We don’t exactly keep count.”

  “Why are you the only one in the myths then?”

  He chuckled. “Please. I’m the only Ferryman that you know of in the Greek myths. Do you know how many other cultures speak of my kind? Reapers are well known throughout the world, have been known throughout the ages. I am not the only one with a reputation. I’m just the one you happened to meet.

  “Talk of us is everywhere,” he went on. “You humans just choose to ignore it, or turn a blind eye. Death, it seems, is too testy a subject for most. They don’t see it for what it really is.”

  “Oh? And just what is that?” Micah practically spat.

  Ferris locked his gaze on him, holding his stare in challenge. “A new beginning.”

  “Yeah, well I don’t want one.”

  “It doesn’t work that way.”

  “Why can I see him when no one else can?” Spencer asked then.

  The Ferryman shook his head, looking annoyed by her question. “None of us know. Our boss might, but he’s got more important things to deal with than a single escaped soul. Even if that soul is doing it every day.”

  “Why don’t more people know about the existence of the Underworld?” She made a note of his last comment, filing it away for further inspection when she had a moment to herself. She didn’t know how much time they would have before he did that weird disappearing thing again, and she wanted to make sure to get as many of her questions answered before…

  She probably made the riskiest move of her entire life.

  He gave her a look like she was a moron. “They do. Just because your society doesn’t believe in it doesn’t mean there aren’t still people out there who do. Weren’t you listening to anything I was saying at Phil’s last night? There are dozens of different belief systems. Maybe even hundreds. But most hinder on the concept of an afterlife in one form or another. They might not all refer to it as the Underworld, but in the end they equate to the same thing.”

  “So the Greeks, they had it right? It is called the Underworld?”

  “It has many names,” he sighed, “just as I have many names. But, yes, the Underworld is one of them, and the Greeks had a lot of things correct. That’s not to forget my earlier statement, though. There was also a lot they got wrong.”

  “Such as?”

  “Enough,” Ferris waved his hand towards Micah. “I’m tired of this. Let’s just go, already.”

  “Wait,” she held her arm out, as if she’d actually be able to stop him if he decided to come after them. “Some of the Greek myths talk about people coming back from the Underworld. What about those? Did they get those stories right? Why hasn’t anyone tried to enter the Underworld since?”

  “How do you know they haven’t?” he cocked his head. “You’ve heard of vampires and zombies, right? Where do you think the ideas for those creatures came from? Things that were dead that no longer are.”

  She sucked in a breath. That wasn’t true, it couldn’t be. Sure, she didn’t want Micah a ghost, but she didn’t want him a zombie either. She liked all of her bits where they were and would prefer not to be eaten. He was just trying to scare her.

  “You’re lying,” she whispered.

  “Am I?” he raised a brow. “Can you prove it?”

  Of course not.

  “Didn’t think so,” he said as if reading her mind. He turned back to Micah, motioned for him to step forward once more. “I won’t ask again,” he warned. “Cooperation makes it easier, but it isn’t necessary.”

  In the next second Spencer saw what she’d been waiting for. The same smoky black tendrils began to appear around his body, twisting and turning as if being blown around by an invisible breeze. Their ashy color stood out against the white walls of her room, so she could see them tightening around his arms and legs.

  That’s how she knew what he was about to do next. She anticipated it when he disappeared, turning so that she was already reaching for the empty space next to Micah before Ferris’s body took form there.

  He grabbed for Micah’s arm, but at the last second, right when those bands of smoke tightened once more, she yanked him away. It took all of her strength, but she saw Micah stumble back and out of the Ferryman’s reach, right before the world was ripped away around her.

  She screamed, feeling the tendrils wrap around her now as well, and squeezed her eyes shut against the rush of darkness.

  A moment later, and Micah was left standing in her room.

  Alone.

  Chapter 5:

  It felt like her lungs were on fire. Like she’d taken in copious amounts of smoke, and now ash coated her insides.

  Bands of something dug into the tender flesh of her arms and legs, feeling as if it were about to rip her apart. She couldn’t see, and a wild
whistling wind drowned everything else out. She wasn’t even sure if she was still screaming or not.

  “Are you completely insane?!” Ferris’s voice somehow managed to find her through the howling wind, and she flinched a little, realizing that she was still holding onto him.

  Slowly, she blinked her eyes. She hadn’t even been aware the reason for the darkness was she’d been squeezing them shut. One by one, she pried her fingers away from his left arm, almost toppling when he yanked from her too quickly.

  “Where are we?” she asked, barely recognizing the scratchy sound that came out of her.

  Overhead towered a black pit that seemed never-ending, it just stretched up and up, giving a whole new meaning to the word darkness. Huge cavernous walls surrounded them on either side, branching off in front and back, turning into what appeared to be lengthy hallways wide enough to fit thirty elephants standing trunk to flank.

  Flecks of amber flickered in the walls, and she stepped closer to one. It was all made of some type of dark stone. When she touched it with the tips of her fingers, heat instantly assaulted her.

  It took her a moment to recognize the smell, but a flashback to her freshman science class helped her classify it. Sulfur. It was thick and heady, making it hard for her to breathe without feeling like she needed to gag. The air itself felt weighted somehow, almost like it was pressing against her limbs in an attempt to keep her immobile.

  The entire cavern was empty. When she glanced down to the floor, however, she frowned. It was coated in a fine sheet of dust, dirt, and sand. Footprints of all sizes scattered about, some pointing forward, others back. One print was no bigger than four inches long. She shivered.

  It was eerily quiet. Until Ferris’s voice cracked against the walls like a violent whip.

  “Where do you think we are, genius?!” he hissed. “Do you know what could have happened to you if I hadn’t figured out that you’d jumped on board instead of Micah?!”

  She shrugged. “I’m not afraid to die.”

  He paused. “There are worse things than death, Spencer.”

  “Trust me,” she whispered. “I already know that.”

  Losing Micah again was worse. Having him ripped away by some Ferryman and never seeing him again was worse. She’d grieved hard those first few days, almost too comatose by it to acknowledge the people around her at the hospital. Later, she’d found out Sydney and Quinn had visited, but she couldn’t remember it at all.

  When his ghost had shown up, some of that grief had fled. At least she was able to function once more; she was able to speak to her parents and return her friends’ phone calls. She’d stuck indoors, became a shut in, but she could answer questions and laugh at jokes again. It had been enough to convince her mom and dad that she was alright. That she’d eventually heal completely and move on with her life.

  Ferris noticeably deflated, looking away and running a frustrated hand through his light brown hair. He had his other hand on his hip, and he turned to glance down both hallways.

  “It’s pointless to bring you back topside,” he told her. “It’s too late. He already knows you’re here.”

  “He?” she swallowed the lump in her throat, annoyed that she’d practically squeaked the word out.

  “You wanted to come to the Underworld to bargain for your boyfriend’s life, right?” he stated dryly. “Well, who did you think you were going to have to speak to about that? Not me, that’s for sure. Just remember,” he took a step towards her, face turning intensely serious, “there’s nothing I can do for you now. I sure hope you know what you’re doing.”

  Yeah, she sure hoped so, too.

  He motioned for her to follow him forward, obviously having decided which way to go. Without waiting, he began walking with a quick even stride. It was similar to the one he’d approached her within the quad earlier that day.

  She realized now with a sick twisting in her gut that it must not have all been for show. Down here, he was somebody important, a Ferryman. A Reaper. And she’d willingly tricked him into bringing her to the Underworld.

  She was so screwed.

  For Micah, she reminded herself, and then dutifully followed.

  She fell into step right behind him, never seeming to move fast enough to keep up completely. He didn’t bother slowing to let her either, which she found slightly annoying.

  The fact that she could find anything about this situation anything other than terrifying made her feel a little more hopeful that maybe she’d made the right call. She could handle this.

  They’d moved a good deal down the cavern—a fact she only knew by guessing how much time they’d been walking. Everything still looked the same as it had in the very spot they’d appeared.

  “How far does this go?” she asked, breaking the silence. The words didn’t echo around them like she’d expected. Instead, they seemed to seep into the walls, absorbed. Stolen.

  She shivered again.

  “We’re almost to the end,” Ferris told her, keeping his face frontward. “This area of the Underworld bypasses the rivers. I thought I’d save you and I some time and just bring you where you wanted to be most. If he’s going to kill you for trespassing, then at least he could do it sooner rather than later, and I could go up and grab Micah once and for all.”

  “Gee,” she mumbled, “thanks.”

  “We aren’t friends, you and I,” he snapped back. “I don’t owe you anything. You should be grateful that I’m even giving you the truth. I could lie, ease your mind; pretend to be thinking something I’m not. Would you prefer that? Mortals so often do.”

  “You make us sound so pathetic.” And she was really getting sick of it.

  “No,” he disagreed. “Not pathetic. Fragile, yes. How easy it is to rip your souls from your bodies. How quickly, barely a blink in time, your life can end. It’s beautiful, would be poetic if only the majority of your species could see it.”

  Forget her earlier comments about herself. This guy was the crazy one.

  “I don’t seem to be able to find the poetry in that at all,” she said. “You’ve obviously never lost someone you cared about before. There’s nothing worse than that. The feeling of losing someone you love. Someone your life—your very existence—depends on.”

  “I know you’d like to think that, Spencer Perry,” he cast her a sideways glance, “but it isn’t so. Your existence hinders on no one but yourself. Only you can write your destiny. Fate is a mere parlor trick designed to coax you into believing otherwise. There is always a choice.”

  “Micah didn’t choose to die!” She stopped abruptly, clenching her fists tightly at her sides.

  “His choices decided the course of actions leading up to his death,” Ferris told her, though his voice had turned more soothing. “As I’ve said before, death is not the end. You’ve seen it yourself. If he’d ended at his death, then there would be nothing left. There would be no ghost. But he didn’t, and there is.”

  As much as she wanted to argue, she found that she couldn’t. At least, not with the logic he’d just presented her anyway. Still, she hadn’t changed her opinion of death, or the way it affected people. As an immortal being, he just didn’t understand. He never would.

  She silently allowed him to continue leading them forward, and within a few minutes they finally came to the end of the tunnel and stopped before a large wrought iron gate. She blew out a slow breath, tilting her head back all the way in an attempt to gauge how high up it went.

  She could see through the three inch thick bars to the other side. A trail headed away in a twist, leading straight to the massive black doors of a castle dark as night. It towered in the distance, glossy like it was made out of hematite stone.

  The screeching of the gate opening caused her to jump back in alarm, and Ferris steadied her with an arm. His show of compassion shocked her even more than the sights did, but she wasn’t gonna knock a gift horse in the mouth.

  Truth was, now that she was standing here directly before the ga
tes of the Lord of the Underworld’s castle, her fear was getting the better of her. She was terrified, but more than that. She had that bone numbing terror that froze a person to the spot; that clouded their minds, until the only thought left in their heads was the rhythm of their own pounding heart in their chest.

  And how remembering it might be the last thing they ever did.

  “Come, Spencer Perry,” Ferris waved her forward.

  The gates were fully open, and she hesitated before them. She couldn’t give up now. She’d gone into this because living without Micah was too much for her to bear. Compared to that, this was like a walk in the park.

  At least, that’s what she kept trying to tell herself.

  Ferris led her deeper in, down the twisting trail that was flanked on either side by an endless drop to the ground. There was no railing; she had to focus on not glancing down. Like with the ceiling she couldn’t find, she couldn’t see the bottom below either.

  Falling forever would suck.

  The air here was different then it’d been back in the massive cavern. There was a chilled bite to it, a harsh almost metallic scent accompanying it. It coated the back of her throat with every intake, feeling a bit like she’d swallowed ice.

  The doors to the castle were already opened wide, as if someone had been expecting them. Recalling what he’d told her back in the original cavern, she realized that that might be so.

  The Lord of the Underworld knew she was here. Did he know what she wanted as well?

  Inside was just as creepy as out, especially when they came across no one, living or otherwise. It was as if the whole place was devoid of movement. The dirty stone floor turned instantly into polished marble the second they entered the parlor. Here there was a pattern of black and white, like a checkerboard. The room itself was circular, with a winding staircase to the far left, right before the opening to another room. They moved past it before she could get a glimpse inside.

  There was another archway straight across, and that’s where Ferris led her. The second she stepped under it she felt the change. The air shifted, becoming less heavy yet at the same time, feeling even direr.