Soul of Stone (Fallen Angel Book 3)

by Leo Romero

  “When you clapped your hands?”

  “Yes. The power of light meeting dark head on may be uncontrollable.”

  I nodded. “Don’t cross the streams. Got it.”

  I stared at my dark hand, wiggling my fingers, the remnants of the anger still with me, causing it to tremble like the aftereffects of an adrenaline rush. I didn’t like the way it triggered negative emotions inside me. What would that do to my soul? I didn’t wanna go all Bruce Banner and have to avoid getting angry in case I ended up creating a whole bunch of shitballs in the palm of my hand. That could get very messy in the grocery store if they put the price of microwave popcorn up again and I got angry about it. I could end up slinging shitballs at everyone and everything in sight. I’d be locked up faster than Charlie Manson.

  “I think you might have condemned me to a life of sobriety,” I told Draxil.

  “Heh, you have to learn when and where to use your anger, Stone. And you will. Your new power will aid you.”

  “Yeah, and might get my ass sent to Hell permanently. What if Michael finds out I’ve got this?”

  “He won’t. We’ll have dealt with the horsemen by the time anyone from Heaven sees it.”

  “And after that?”

  “Bah, just wear long sleeves!”

  “Thanks, Drax.”

  “Your whining is insufferable at times. Look what God did to me. Twisted and contorted my once beautiful form and dumped me in a pit of sulphur. And you whine about a little etching or two. Don’t hear me complaining, do you?”

  “You tried to conquer Heaven!”

  “I was tricked!”

  “That’s what they all say.”

  “You call me a liar?” he raged.

  A sudden pain went off in my chest, in my nipples to be exact. The kind of pain you get when one of your ‘buddies’ tweaked them in the locker room when he was being an asshole.

  “Did you just tweak my nipples?” I asked Draxil, rubbing them.

  “Indeed!”

  “Why?”

  “Because you inferred that I am lying about my involvement in the rebellion against God. I was lied to by Lucifer!”

  “All right, Draxil. I was only kidding. Jeez. That really hurt.”

  “I’ll go lower next time, so watch your tongue!”

  I grumbled under my breath. Worst bromance ever! I was really starting to regret letting the asshole possess me. I nodded to myself; I was definitely finding the nearest exorcist once we got out of Tartare Sauce. And I’d insist on going heavy on the holy water!

  I was about to start getting snarky with him some more when something in the distance stole my attention. The river dipped, and the tunnel tightened into a smaller opening. We shot through it to find ourselves in a huge cavern where the river flowed into a giant lake. Rivers branched off it in all directions, some going upward, others downward, sideways, left, right. I glanced up. The roof of the cavern was a giant darkness. Most likely the one-way portal where souls fell through on their way to Hades. Nothing was falling through now though. Looked like this place was nothing more than an abandoned train station.

  “This must be the source of the river,” I said. “The ferryman should be around here.” I scanned the area. At the far edge of the massive lake, a boat sat next to a small stone pier. Sitting at one end of the boat was a hooded figure in black robes. “That must be Sharon,” I said.

  “Well, what are you waiting for?” Draxil snapped. “Go and talk to him.”

  I swooped over and landed on the bank of the river. I jumped off Pegasus and sent him back to the Void before approaching that pier. I stepped onto it with caution, worried the ancient stone might crumble underfoot. It held firm, and I edged toward the boat waiting at the end of it. The boat itself was a simple, rickety-looking thing with a burning lantern hanging off the bow. The ferryman remained as he was, crouched over, and as I approached, I realized why. The guy was engrossed in the pages of a book.

  I reached the end of the pier and craned my neck down. “Ahem!” I said as loud as I could.

  “Are you lost?” the ferryman asked, not looking up from his book. His voice was coarse, gravelly.

  “Kind of.”

  He slowly turned his head to gaze up at me, two neon-blue circles burning from the darkness inside his hood. “Jason?”

  I glanced down at the Fleece draped over my shoulder. “Uh. Not exactly.”

  Those mysterious eyes scanned me up and down. “Only those who are lost venture down here these days. Or pranksters who wish to try and upend my boat. The pranksters usually end up drowning in the Styx.”

  “Good job I’m not a prankster.”

  “Hmm-hmm. Then what do you seek here?”

  “I need you to take me to Hell.”

  He threw his arms over his chest. “Hmph! That place again!”

  “Yeah. Is there a problem?”

  “My trade has suffered immeasurably since the opening of that infernal pit.”

  “Sorry to hear it.”

  “Well, if you insist, I shall transport you. The fare is one silver coin.”

  “Uh...” I pulled out my wallet and sifted through it. I had no coins. “Do you take cash?” I asked, pulling out a dollar bill.

  He shook his head. “But I will take gold.” He fixed his avaricious gaze on the Fleece.

  I looked down at it. “Sorry, I can’t give this up. Been through too much to get it.”

  “Very well.” He picked up his book. “Happy travels along Styx.”

  “Just give it to him, Stone,” Draxil demanded.

  “But it’s the Fleece!” I protested. “I can’t just hand it over.”

  “Then you cannot afford a ride in my boat, friend.”

  Bastard! “This would’ve looked great on my apartment floor,” I said, reluctantly pulling it off my shoulder. With a long sigh, I held it out to the ferryman. “Here!”

  Charon’s eyes widened, and I swore I could feel him grinning in the shadows of his hood. He reached up a slender, blue arm and snatched the Fleece. He shoved it under his robes where it seemed to vanish. I watched it go in bemusement, regret bombing in my heart. Man, losing the Fleece hurt. Hurt bad.

  Charon held out a bony hand. “Welcome aboard.”

  “This better be worth it!” I stared at the boat in trepidation. It looked to be too close to that lava.

  “Do not fret,” Charon said. “My boat will protect you from the river.”

  “Okay,” I said in an uneasy voice as I lowered a shaky foot toward the boat, the heat from the lava smothering my skin. As my foot drew close, it cooled as if both the boat and the air surrounding it were immune to the lava. I stepped down on the rickety wood, and the heat from the lava vanished, my body cooling down to a regular temperature.

  “Make yourself comfortable,” Charon said in a cold voice that was beyond creepy.

  I sat on the opposite side of the boat as far away from him as possible. Getting comfortable was an impossibility on the hard wood. I just grinned and bared it. That lava staring up at me from all sides made things even worse. I did my best to ignore it. I faced Charon, my eyes falling on the book by his feet. “What are you reading?”

  He held it up for me to the see the cover.

  I frowned. “Macbeth?”

  Charon nodded. “I have much time on my hands these days. The Bard helps pass the centuries.”

  He filed Macbeth away beneath his robes and picked up his barge pole from the boat floor. He put it into the lava and got us moving through the Styx. “What brings you to these parts?” he asked.

  “Oh, just sightseeing,” I answered. “Always wanted to see the River Styx and Hades.”

  “Look around you! T’is all that remains of the once thriving Hades.”

  I had a look. Barren rock and lava greeted me.

  “Aye, t’is hard to believe souls would rain down in their scores for me to collect and transport. Alas, nowadays, witness one part of Hades, and one has witnessed it all. Empty. Abandoned.
Forgotten.” His voice was mixed with regret and contempt in equal measure. “Hmph! To think I was feared, revered. The dreaded boatman of Styx, collecting coin to transport the dead to their eternal suffering. Now, I am an afterthought. A myth. A laughable footnote in history.”

  “Well, it doesn’t help having a woman’s name, Sharon.”

  “It’s Charon,” he hissed. “Ch-Ch-Charon. Mock me at your peril, human. I’ve escorted more souls than you can count.” He jabbed a thumb into his chest. “I was acquainted with them all. Hades, Poseidon, Zeus. Always there to clean up their feces, to dispose of the souls they reaped which they wished kept a secret. They knew they could rely on me to conceal their misdemeanors, and I remained loyal. Now, my reward is to be condemned to an empty river.”

  “Sucks,” I said. I was getting tired of this guy’s whining already.

  “Seems like yesterday Hades was reaping souls like there would never be another dawn. Greedy bastard that he was. Souls for breakfast, for lunch, for supper. All the while, Zeus was too busy fornicating human ladies to rein him in. I oft told him if he spent half as much time with his family as he did pursuing toga, Earth would be an infinitely more peaceful place. Did he listen to this humble ferryman? Well, did he?”

  I shrugged. “I guess not.”

  “No! He did not. Instead, he humped the next nubile Greek lady to catch his eye. More illegitimate children than a baboon. Bastards left, right, and center. All of them spoiled to the core. Brats. Well, maybe not Hercules, he was not so bad. Could throw a discus, oh yes he could. I hear his legacy lives on. Still running around in circles every four years to collect a shiny medal, eh? Pah, as more time passes, you humans appear to grow ever more stupid. When will you head for the stars? For what did Pythagoras devote his life to discover them, if all you wish to do is sit on your behinds? You know who is to blame for this tragedy, do you not?” He nodded vehemently. “Socrates! That bearded bastard sitting there philosophizing all day, encouraging ordinary folk to ponder useless dribble. Just an excuse for a slovenly life, while hard-working folk such as I are expected to break our backs for a pittance. Bastards! And as for Plato. Do. Not. Get. Me. Started. On. Him!”

  I grabbed the sides of my head. This guy was driving me nuts.

  “Will this imbecile ever shut his mouth!” vented Draxil.

  Between the demon inside me and this damn ferryman, I was about ready to jump overboard.

  “Aphrodite used to hump around too,” Charon continued. “Like father like daughter. I know she was a pretty girl, but by the gods, did that one love cock. I told her if she was not careful it would end up sprouting from her earholes. Did she listen? Pah, they never do. As for Cronos. The little scrote. Scampering hither and tither, trying to stop time. For what? And how about Theseus? What was all that damn Labyrinth business? Pray tell me what the silly bastard was expecting to find in there other than trouble? I told them all, it shall end in tears, and they’ll find themselves falling in this cursed river for me to fish out. Did they listen? Did they?”

  I pulled out Bam Bam and aimed it at him.

  Charon’s eyes fell on it. “By the gods, what is that fancy contraption?”

  “This is called a shotgun. It makes big holes in ferrymen who can’t stop talking.”

  “This varmint’s got my ears a’bleeding!” Bam Bam groaned. “Shoot him!”

  “My my, it talks!” said Charon. He reached out for it. “Can I see—”

  I poked it further in toward him. “I swear I’ll shoot you!”

  Charon snapped his hand back in. “No need to get angry, friend. I was merely attempting to make conversation to pass the time.”

  “Well, kindly stop.”

  He bowed his head. “As you wish. I am merely a humble ferryman who has none to converse with. You are my first customer in an age, and I wished to make it special for you. Forgive me for failing to recognize your antisocial attitude. You know, a ferryman hears things. Gossip. Hearsay. Many souls have passed through here, and they all had a story to tell.”

  “Yeah, well, I don’t wanna hear it.”

  “Very well. Then you will not wish to hear where Zeus’ lighting is then.”

  My interest was suddenly piqued. I raised an eyebrow. “Zeus’ what?”

  “Zeus’ lightning. The magic power he uses to throw bolts of lightning to strike down his enemies. And sometimes his friends. I know where he has hidden it, but you do not care for such trivialities,” he snorted.

  I licked my lips. “Now, let’s not be so hasty. I never said I wasn’t interested in everything you had to say.”

  He held up a palm. “No, no, no, friend. You have made your stance perfectly clear. If you have no interest in what this unassuming ferryman knows, then so be it.”

  Asshole! “Look, Mr. Charon. If I came across as a pigheaded ass, then I apologize. It’s just a character flaw; we all have them. I’m on a mission to find Hell, and I’m so focused on that, I forgot my manners. Especially with someone who is held in such high regard as yourself.” I gave him a grin, hoping it would turn the tide. Man, if he could get me the power to shoot lightning, I’d be super badass. Just the thought got my juices flowing.

  He swung his hooded head from side to side. “Well, I suppose I could maybe just about accept your apology,” he said.

  Hope rose inside me. “Okay then, good.” I rubbed my hands. “So, where is it?”

  “Where is what?”

  I grinned and nodded. “Zeus’ lightning.”

  He shrugged. “I have no idea, friend. I was merely jesting. I only wished to see you grovel.”

  “What? Oh man, you’re a real asshole!”

  The SOB sniggered, causing his shoulders to judder. “By the Gods, that was glorious. Worth the centuries of wait! Ah!”

  “I am on the brink of coming out there and throwing him into the river!” Draxil sneered.

  “Don’t worry, buddy. I’ll be doing it any minute!”

  “Ah, going insane already?” said Charon.

  “What?”

  “Talking to oneself, a sure sign.” He leaned in toward me. “I have witnessed many a soul go utterly insane on this river. Seems to have that effect on them.”

  “Funny. I can’t think what it might be, Charon.”

  “Well, do not fret; it happens to them all sooner or later.”

  I looked around. There was nothing but Styx. “How much further is it?”

  “Not far.”

  We passed through more empty cavern, going up, down, left, right. It was maddening.

  “So pray tell, what do you seek in Hell?” Charon asked as he rowed. “Those with sense are trying to escape the pit, not get in! You have it all wrong, friend.”

  “It’s none of your business! You just concentrate on getting us there!”

  “Why so full of ire? I am merely attempting friendliness.”

  I let out an irritated huff. “Look, you’re Charon, the ferryman. You’re not supposed to be friendly. You’re supposed to be mean, dark, mysterious. A badass.”

  “I am all of those things and more!” he said stoutly, his eyes glowing hard. Then, they dulled. “But alas, place a couple of millennia on oneself and things change. I have been forced to ponder, just like that ass Socrates. T’is what occurs given enough time with nothing to do, stuck betwixt the planes. Alone. I find myself oft reflecting on my life. Aye, in my youth I was feared, and I reveled in my stigma, but this is what inevitably happens when one grows old. Fear and mystery appear a pointless crusade. A fool thinks himself to be wise, but a wise man knows himself to be a fool. Believe yourself some form of legendary icon with your extravagant toys and your plush garments? I have witnessed it all a thousand times before, friend. You see yourselves as heroes on heroic quests. Pah! Fools on foolish errands is what you are. No, no, no, these days I’d rather sit and read a good play by the Bard than be embroiled in pointless tragedy.”

  “If you’re not careful, I’ll be reenacting the end of Romeo and Juliet and turn th
is boat into a bloodbath!”

  He leaned in closer to me, and I swear I could see rows of jagged teeth in the gloom, clenched in a nasty grin. “Cantankerous bastard, are you not?”

  I gave him a firm nod.

  “Well, Spartacus, you may wish to hold on to something,” he said as he squatted down and grabbed both edges of the boat.

  “What?” I responded, shaking my head like I’d just awoken from a dream. Before I had a chance to grab hold of anything, the maniac began rocking the boat from side to side.

  My jaw dropped. “Hey, what are you—” I was cut off as the boat tipped heavily to one side, throwing me dangerously across. I flung out an emergency hand and managed to grab hold of the boat edge. I clung on for dear life.

  “The madman’s going to kill us!” Draxil exclaimed.

  Lava swished up the side of the boat. I stared at it in horror. Charon sent his momentum the other way, and the boat shifted over. My body went with it. I held on as the boat almost capsized, the very edge of it coming level with the lava.

  “What the hell are you doing?” I raged.

  Charon just carried on tipping the boat, his facial expression neutral. I fell back the other way.

  “I didn’t mean to offend Romeo and Juliet!” I shouted as I went flying.

  Charon cackled hard in response. The SOB was as nutty as Willy Wonka.

  He threw his momentum over, and the boat finally capsized. The lava on my side came rushing toward me like a train loaded with explosives. I watched helplessly, that lava dominating my vision like a red curtain falling over me. My first instinct was to let out a scream. In my mind, Draxil joined me, although his scream was more of a hoarse grunt.

  I tightened my grip as hard as I could, my eyes slamming shut the moment we struck the lava. Everything went black and gloopy for a split second, and my mind exploded with terror as I was about to melt down into the lava in excruciating pain!

  But there was nothing. I wasn’t even in the river. I opened my eyes, my scream petering out. I gazed about me, open-mouthed. We were in a new tunnel, our boat floating along the river as it flowed off into the distance. I stared intently over the edge of the boat. The lava greeted me. My brain worked for a few seconds until what happened registered in my mind.