It was too much. Too…alive.
She yanked herself back and he let her. For a split second she thought she saw disappointment sparkle in his eyes, but then it was gone and she figured she’d imagined it. Once there was a good three feet between them she stopped, not moving any further.
He didn’t reach for her again.
They treaded water for a little while in silence, sometimes stealing glances at each other, other times taking in the view. The river was beautiful, the water like liquid silk against her skin. She could tell now that it was pretty deep. Her feet couldn’t feel the ground beneath her, and they hadn’t hit it when they’d basically jumped in. Even now that she was in it, it felt like there was no current.
“How did the Greeks get it so wrong?” she asked then.
“They didn’t,” he shrugged. “Things just used to be different.”
“How so?”
He licked his lips. “People used to call me Hades, just as they used to call Charlie Charon. That doesn’t change our names, though. People believed they were ferried across the river Acheron by Ferris.”
“Are you saying there’s no boat?” She’d kind of gathered that much from Ferris the other night at least.
“Does there need to be?”
“I don’t follow.”
“Each individual believes something different,” he explained. “Those who need to see a boat, do.”
“Oh. So it isn’t real.”
“What’s real, Spencer?” he met her gaze. “If it’s tangible, it exists, does it not?”
“But if someone only imagines it’s tangible, doesn’t that make it, you know, made up? Like a hallucination.” She refused to focus on how she’d thought of Micah as intangible before.
Hadrian made a face. “I forget sometimes how narrow minded mortals can be.”
“We aren’t narrow minded,” she disagreed.
“Not all of you.” He ran his fingers through the water, watching the tiny ripples it caused. “If my belief was that when we die we go to Heaven and see pearly gates, then that is what I’d find here once Ferris has brought me. If I wanted, I could touch them; feel the warmth of the sun’s rays shining down on my face.
“But if my belief is that I walk down a tunnel of light, then that’s what I think I’m doing when I get here. This river stands as the barrier between the world of the living and the world of the dead. It’s a transitional place, one used to ease a soul into the understanding of their passing. Of their death. Once they’re done here, they are greeted, judged, and placed in their respectable places, be it the Elysian Fields, the Asphodel Meadows, or Tartarus.”
“What about you?” she asked. “What is your belief?”
He tensed a little, a shutter coming down over his eyes, swiftly blocking her out. Just like that the guy she’d been talking to vanished and in his place was the god.
“I will never die,” he bit out. “What use are beliefs to me?” He headed towards shore with fast even strokes that she had to struggle to keep up with. The anger was practically visible all around him now.
She wondered over his words. What must it be like to know you were going to live forever? To never have to worry about dying? He hadn’t sounded pleased at all, which confused her.
Ever since she’d been a little girl she’d believed she knew where she would go once she died. There’d been no doubt in her mind that she knew, that she would just appear somewhere else. She’d been so positive. So sure.
She didn’t remember where she’d gotten the idea, but it was a concept she’d always carried with her. The idea that when a person died, their soul would travel to their final destination in a blink. That they would just open their eyes and be where they needed to be. For her, it had always been a white room with nothing in it, but inviting all the same. From there she’d believed, souls got to go to Heaven.
Almost like a resting place, just like Hadrian had just said the Acheron was.
Which was funny, because it meant that she’d been here before because she’d been right. When she’d died, she’d blinked and the next thing she knew she was standing in a towering white room.
There’d been a strange sense of peace for a second, but the moment she’d realized Micah wasn’t there with her all of that calm had rushed out, replaced with dread. Fear. She couldn’t recall a single time in her entire life she’d ever been that afraid before. Yet she hadn’t had time to ponder over it, to dwell on it. She’d blinked again.
And had awoken in the hospital to her sobbing mother.
An hour later she found out that Micah was dead.
Chapter 12:
“He’s just a boy, you know,” Hadrian said, though there was no insult in his tone.
They’d dried off a little over an hour ago while lying in the grass. Apparently, the plus side to being in the Underworld was the dry air. A good thing, considering he hadn’t bothered giving her enough actual time to remove her clothes beforehand.
They lay side by side, staring up at the reddish-pink sky. So far, she’d yet to see anything that could be considered terrifying; she’d briefly wondered earlier if that might be because he was avoiding those things on purpose to spare her the trauma. Though why was beyond her. It wasn’t like they were friends.
“The fact that you think that proves you’ve never been in love before,” she told him.
He bristled next to her. “You don’t know a thing about me.”
“I know that if you’ve ever felt one ounce of what I feel for him, you’d understand my point. Micah isn’t just a boy, or even just a person, to me. Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night terrified that all of this will have been nothing more than a dream. That he’s just gone and I’ve imagined the whole ghost thing. I’ll just lie there, staring up at the ceiling, counting my breaths. Waiting for reality to crash into me, to shatter me.”
She’d been too distracted the past few days to really dwell on it like she used to, but thinking about it now brought the terror back anew.
“I used to be afraid of heights. Until one day he brought me to the top of Mt. Willow, just outside our town. He held my hand the whole hike up, insisting that I was stronger than my fear every time I panicked and demanded we turn back. But when we finally made it to the top… I’ve never seen anything more beautiful. We could see the entire town. And the highway stretching for miles, disappearing off in the distance.
“I remember thinking that the possibilities were endless for us. That we could do anything, go anywhere. That the only thing standing in our way was fear. He’d gotten me to do something no one else could have possibly gotten me to do. He showed me how strong I really was. How much better I could be if I would just open myself up to the possibilities. For him, I could be better. I wanted to. Wanted to be the best possible version of myself because that’s what he deserved. I can’t be that person without him.”
Hadrian was quiet for so long that she thought she’d bored him to sleep. When she turned her head she was surprised to find him intently watching her. He was so different from the boy she’d just been reminiscing about. The major way was in how hard it was to read him.
She was almost never able to figure out what he was thinking. With Micah, all it ever took was one glance and she knew. There was no guessing, no doubt. She knew where she stood with him. But with Hadrian…
“You believe being yourself is dependent on being with Micah.” It was a statement, not a question, and his expression never wavered. “That without him, Spencer Perry will cease to exist.”
When he put it that way it sounded eerie, but she refused to let him unsettle her. She wouldn’t feel foolish for being honest about her feelings, especially because she’d never told anybody about them before. In truth, she had no idea why she’d let it slip to him in the first place. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that down here in the Underworld there was no chance of anyone else overhearing.
“I don’t know who I am anymore,” she admitted, trying to g
auge his reaction. She couldn’t tell if he was making fun of her or not.
“Unless you’re the girlfriend of Micah St. James,” he filled in.
She scowled, twisting her head around to look back at the sky. “No, that’s not what I mean at all. It’s not the title I need. A label is just a label. Take Sydney for instance. People look at her, and at first all they see is the cliché spoiled rich blonde chick. But the second they get a glimpse deeper, the second they try to see her for who she really is, they find she’s actually a caring, deep minded person.”
“And you’re not?”
“You’re not getting what I’m saying.”
“Actually, I think it’s the other way around.” He waited for her to meet his gaze. “You are a mortal, Spencer. You were born, you will live, and then you will die. There isn’t supposed to be any other order. Every soul that touches your life shapes you; there isn’t just one. Your essence is not dependent on any one person. Micah may have held your hand that day, but it was your legs that carried you up that mountain. It was your strength that brought you here to the Underworld.”
“That doesn’t—”
“I’m here with you, Spencer,” he stopped her, sliding his hand over so that the tips of his fingers brushed against hers in the grass. “Not Micah St. James. You aren’t him. You aren’t dead.”
“It feels like I am sometimes,” she whispered. She debated whether or not to pull her hand away, but they were barely touching and for some strange reason, she found his nearness comforting.
“That’s because you’re alive,” he said. “And you’re stubborn.”
When he smiled at her she shook her head. “Why are you being so nice to me?”
“This again?” he sighed. “Should I be mean, like last night?”
“Not just now,” she elaborated. “Why did you decide to help me in the first place? Why agree to a deal when you had the power to send me away with nothing? Why are you doing this, Hadrian?”
He stared back at her, and then pushed into a sitting position. Dusting off his pants, he stood, reaching down to pick his shirt off the ground. As he dressed, he kept his eyes glued to the floor, as if looking at her had somehow become taboo.
“We’ve been here long enough,” he finally said once he’d slipped on his coat. “It’ll be morning soon. We should get back to the palace so that Ferris can take you home.”
“You can summon him here.” She got to her feet, deciding on a different tactic. “Why can’t Micah remember where he goes when I’m not around him?”
“Maybe he thinks he just disappears without you,” he grated. “You know? Kinda like you’ve been complaining you feel without him.”
She tried not to feel hurt, but his comment stung and she visibly pulled back. “I’m serious, Hadrian. You’ve got to know what’s going on with him. He can’t even remember Ferris bringing him across the river, and it’s not like he could seriously just cease to exist when I’m not on the street so… What aren’t you telling me?”
“Lots,” he said. “Now let’s go.”
“No.” She yanked her arm out of his grasp and stood her ground. “Answer my question.”
“He comes here, Spencer. When you’re not around? Micah is here, in the Underworld, where he belongs. You’re the one who’s screwing it up, who’s messing with the system and bringing his spirit out.”
“I’m not doing anything,” she disagreed.
“Sure. Whatever.”
“Why can’t he remember?”
Hadrian shrugged. “Who cares? All that matters is he can’t.”
“I care!”
“Like I said,” he repeated, “who cares? You don’t even know yourself anymore. You couldn’t even tell me who you are.”
Of course for a moment there she’d actually thought he wasn’t judging her, that that guarded expression on his face had been because of interest and not because he’d been secretly laughing at her on the inside.
It was obvious now that it was a mistake confiding in him. He clearly viewed her as weak and pathetic. How sad that the girl with the dead boyfriend just couldn’t move on like a normal person. How naïve to think that they could actually have a conversation, without it turning around a dark corner.
“Micah was right,” she said, not stopping to think about the words coming out of her mouth. “You are just playing with us. This is just some sick game to keep you entertained while you live out your eternal existence!”
His cobalt eyes narrowed into thin slits. “So what if it is?”
“Maybe to you I’m just a mortal and Micah is just a boy, but we are so much more than that!”
“You’re wrong,” he corrected, and for a second she had hope. Before he dashed it on the rocks. “You’re just a mortal and Micah is just a dead boy.”
All that pain and anger she’d been carrying around for three months—blaming herself, blaming whoever was in charge of deciding who got to live and who got to die—all of that came pouring out of her. It was like an instant flood rushing forward, consuming the numbness that she’d grown so familiar with. Momentarily burying the depression.
“Better to be just a mortal and a ghost,” she hissed in a low whisper that anyone standing a few feet away would have to strain to hear, “than to be a lifeless god. You might live forever, Hadrian, but you’ve got an eternity of being alone to look forward to. Did you think I didn’t notice how empty your castle is? How the only people I’ve seen are you and a bunch of souls you can’t even speak to?
“I think I figured out what that look in your eye was the other day,” she went on. “It was envy, because they have what you’ll never get. They have each other. And you can stand on your balcony and watch them until the end of time, and you’ll still end up the only one there. At least I have Micah. I have something to live for. You just have your games, and your solitude.”
She probably should have stopped after the first part, hell, probably shouldn’t have said anything at all. But once she was done, she found that she felt like a huge weight had been lifted off her shoulders. She hadn’t blown up at anyone like that in a long time; hadn’t felt enough of anything to need to.
She would have smiled if it hadn’t been for the tightly restrained look of fury on his face. This wasn’t her. Sure, she could get mean to defend her friends, but she’d never been that spiteful towards anyone. She’d taken it too far, she realized, and was just about to apologize when she felt the Ferryman appear at her side.
“Get out,” Hadrian spat, disappearing before she could say anything back.
* * *
He’d practically admitted to using them. To playing with them this whole time just to keep himself amused. He thought their lives were pointless and frivolous and unimportant.
So why did she feel so damn guilty?
And why couldn’t she just leave the Underworld with the two of them on good terms for once?
“Did you hear about Sarah?” Becca was saying to another student when Spencer entered the room like a zombie.
She went straight to her seat, dropping her books onto her desk with a loud smacking sound. What if he decided he no longer wanted to bother with her at all and went back on their deal? She’d been so stupid! In a moment of anger she could have cost herself the one thing that mattered most in this world: Micah.
And what about what she’d cost him? He wanted to be alive again, wanted to walk around and talk to his mom again. The two of them had always been really close, becoming even more so after his father’s death.
She realized she hadn’t gone to visit Mrs. St. James in over a month now, and made a mental note to do that as soon as she got the chance. It wasn’t right of her to put everyone else’s feelings aside simply so she could coddle her own. It was far past time she stopped doing that and took into consideration how she was affecting the people around her.
It wasn’t until the word “death” reached her ears that she came back to the world around her. With a frown, she turned to see
who had spoken, eyes landing on Brodie across the room.
“My dad said it was a freak accident,” he was saying. His dad was the local town sheriff. “Sarah insists someone was chasing her and she was just trying to get away, when she ended up in front of that car.”
Sarah had been in a car accident? When?
“The girl is crazy,” he added. “Cops searched the entire area and there was no one there, and the driver didn’t see anything either. He claims she just came running out of nowhere like she’d lost her mind.”
“What did she tell the police?” Becca asked. “Could she give them a description?”
“Of the made-up dude?” he grunted. “Yeah, something about a tall guy with dark hair and eyes that were practically black. Imagine that? Black eyes. Yeah right. I heard she’s been hanging down at the abandoned movie theater. We all know what goes on there.”
Spencer knew someone who fit that description. Who had dark blue eyes that in some lighting could appear to be almost black. Who had the ability to appear and disappear at will.
Hadrian had made it very clear what he thought of mortals. He didn’t care about them, only stuck around when he was curious. What if he’d taken a curiosity in Sarah after she’d left him in the Underworld? What if he’d been so angry with her, he’d felt the need to go out and blow off a little steam and Sarah had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time?
Or Brodie could be right about that other thing too. Even Spencer had heard the rumors going around that Sarah had taken up a new hobby. Apparently she’d even been bold enough to try the harder stuff like acid. She could have just been having a bad trip… Though wouldn’t the cops have known then that she was on drugs?
Sure, they wouldn’t outright announce that sort of thing, at least not right away, but Brodie would know being the sheriff’s son and all. That definitely wasn’t something he would keep to himself either.
So not drugs. That still left her with two other obvious options.
“Hey,” she called over to them, waiting for all three heads to turn her way. “What time did this happen?”
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