by TJ Adams
Quiet. Eternity of ferrying the dead had turned him into a dull companion. But having never lived, conversation topics would be limited.
“You got any ideas why Hades wants me? I must admit I was surprised to discover he actually existed, but don’t go telling him that, wouldn’t want to anger the guy before I’ve even met him.”
We drifted in silence.
“I get it. This is your polite way of telling me to shut it.”
“We’re here.”
That had me sit up straight. Beyond the stern I saw the Styx flowing into the darkness.
“I was expecting something more, a grand hall at least, something fitting for a god.”
“The god of the underworld needs nothing more fitting than this.” He stretched his bone thin arm ahead. As if conjured by his whim, a bank appeared out of the gloom.
“Your end.”
“As in destination, I hope.”
“I go no further.”
“What? We’re not close enough. How am I supposed to get ashore?”
“Walk.”
“In case you’ve forgotten we’re on water. And I know what lives in this river, so I’m in no hurry to get out.”
“If you do not get out then we stay.”
He inched around and folded his arms within his robe, doing a great impersonation of the non-living he ferried. Looks like he was going to be literal in his meaning.
I dug around in my jeans pocket. “Are you up for a bribe? I’ll give you a coin for each meter you take me closer and the rest when we reach the shore.”
He lifted his head and pushed back his hair as if about to say something important. I stilled. This had better be promising, because I didn’t like my options. I jiggled the coins in my hand to entice a favorable response from him.
“Time is of little importance to me.”
Not the response I wanted. “Is that you saying get out of my boat before I throw you overboard again? Why can’t you go a little closer?”
“The dead will try and board.”
“Are you talking about the damned souls in the water?”
“I speak of those who have reached the end, but have yet to accept their fate.”
“And where might those souls be?”
He did not answer, but he did not have to. As if his words gave me the eyes to see, when I looked at the bank I saw movement. In the dull light I couldn’t be sure what was there, but figured it had to be the souls he spoke of.
“And what happens when I get to shore?”
“You will face your future eventually.”
“Why not face it sooner rather than later, right?”
“The choice is yours.”
I snorted a laugh. “Since when has my choice been a factor in all of this.”
“Your choice led you to this place. It is up to you to decide where you go from here.”
“And if I decide to head back in the other direction, will you take me?”
“You are not a coward.”
“Which is you telling me I have no choice but to face Hades.”
“You already know what you will do, you just don’t believe it.”
The Ferryman bowed his head and I took that as the signal he was done with talking. I looked beyond him to the bank. This time the figures were clearer, but the shapes were not discernibly human, at least not from here and in this light. The light from the glow worms was not enough to make out landmarks, making the place look as inviting as sitting on a garbage heap.
The water looked black as ever, and cold. “I guess I’m getting wet, for the second time.”
I jiggled the coins one more time then tossed them at the Ferryman. Despite looking at the boat floor, his arm shot out and plucked the coins mid-air.
“Doubt Hades is the sort to bribe with cash, so I won’t be needing those. Don’t spend them all at once.”
The cold on my feet felt like pins piercing my skin. I cast one last look at the Ferryman, who’d resumed his hunch, a sack with little form.
“Just my bloody luck. Prepare to be haunted if the tentacle creature eats me.”
With a deep inhale, then held breath, I pushed myself over into the water. The punishing cold constricted my throat. My breath came in short, sharp bursts; it hadn’t been this cold before. While I trod water the ferry drifted away, the Ferryman not even bothering to check if I made it to shore.
When the cold turned everything below the water to stone I started swimming for the bank. Because I was frozen, my limbs refused to work properly, as if they were no longer a part of my body, something I wielded separately in a clumsy, awkward way. Each stroke turned into a practice in torture.
I’d swum a few lengths and the caress of hands down my leg, pulled me from the agony of forcing my limbs to swim. With every part of me turned to ice, it was likely the hands touched me long before I noticed. Wind back a couple of hours and feeling groping hands would jolt me out of my stupor and have me torpedoing to shore. Now, however, they felt eerily familiar and calming, no longer groping me with desperation. As I splashed along like a spastic octopus, they kept their pace, gliding hands along my body. Would they keep me up if I struggled to stay afloat?
The distance turned into a transatlantic journey. A few times I stopped to see how far I had to go, only to curse the hundreds of miles left to swim. It was as if I was caught in yet another illusion with the bank moving further away from me. Perhaps this was Hades’ plan to kill me, if the friendly hands would allow it.
The swim did little to warm me up. The ice in my muscles now settled deep in my heart. I could almost feel my heart beat slow, dragging with it my swimming rhythm. I wanted to take a long nap, eternity would be good.
The water lapping against my lips snapped me out of my lethargy. Keep going. I forced my left arm into another stroke. Problem was I could barely feel it. The brain-limb connection was almost severed. God dammit, swim.
My feet touched something solid not too far below the surface. I reached down with my hand and felt sand, so I looked up and found myself within tripping distance of the bank. Miraculously all my splashing about had worked. Not so long ago I was starting to think I would find my grave amongst the damned.
I stood to find myself only knee deep. One step and I staggered forward falling face first into the water. With the dousing of chilled water, I launched upright and danced about on the spot trying to find my balance. I had to get out of this water before the remnants of my strength flowed away as swift as the Ferryman. But in front of me was a sight that had me question which way was the best to head, in or back out.
They were human, but just. The wasted bodies of countless dead slowly rose to their feet. Gaunt skin stretched across bone; heads hung forward, drooping to the rocks, necks as thin as straw unable to offer support anymore; eyes stared out from sagging sockets; hair hung in strands over their shoulders.
As I came to shore, they shuffled around me, preventing me from moving further up the bank. One ran a hand slowly down my arm. It was like being touched by something inanimate. The first touch sparked the rest. Soon not a free space of skin was left on my body. Pushing their hands away from my face had little effect, more hands replaced the space now vacant. I tried walking forward only to find the groping had become a wall of resistance, worse than walking through fast setting concrete.
Either my strength was gone or this many hands was too much, but I wasn’t going anywhere. The idea woke me up with a spark of adrenaline. Claustrophobia was never my thing, except for now. Somehow I found the energy to thrash about within my many hands hold. For a nano second I worked my way free, only to feel grips tighten as hands grasped for a better hold. The panic-slash-anger now firing in my belly warmed my insides, turning me from an ice block to furnace. I roared nonsensical words as I ploughed forward. Hands slipped from my waist and arms as I went. But not enough to win my freedom.
Fueled with the desire to win, I roared again and this time it felt like my body expanded. This was followe
d by a sudden jolt that pounded through my veins and out. I felt it as a heat wave that brushed my face as it radiated outward through the air. The hands flung free and the emaciated corpses scattered like tenpins, leaving me the only one standing. Another bonus to the weird shit I just pulled, I felt toasted, my clothes dry.
The first sound I heard beyond my own noise were footsteps crunching on rock. I looked up to find a man further up the bank. He reciprocated my stare, hands on hips. Looking well fed, this guy was not one of the dead, which could only mean one thing. But surely gods would look more…godly.
22
I climbed the bank toward Hades; a surreal moment. A few months ago Hades existed within the black lines of the history books, and here I was now, climbing up toward him. Given he was a god I was surprised at how ordinary he looked. A glowing light as backdrop, or some other indication that he was someone above the ordinary supernatural, like the pictures that depicted the Christian god, would’ve been more suitable. Hades wore black, no surprises there and he looked like a mortal man. With his dark skin and black hair he blended well with the poor light.
What was the protocol when faced with a god? The last thing I wanted to do was offend him, since he was my ticket out of here. But since he wanted my soul, I wasn’t sure how I would convince him letting me go was a better idea.
As I neared, he lifted his hands up like an evangelists about to proclaim the mercy of the lord. “Welcome to my domain.”
“Thanks, but I have to admit I’d feel happier about being here if I understood why.”
The god gave me a wattage smile and waved one hand for me to finish my climb. I did with hesitancy. Given he was a god, and I was…not a god, I could be excused for feeling apprehensive since his domain was a dungeon for the dead. Knowing he wanted me here also failed to settle my nerves.
On level ground, I stood as tall as him.
“You are my most prized guest.”
“Guest, huh…I hope that means I get to leave after we’ve had our little chat.”
He clapped me on the back and led me forward. “I like your humor. It’s a trait I much admire in humanity.”
“Glad you find us funny, but I was being serious.”
He chuckled and led me forward with a strong hand at my back, a firm warning he would not accept refusal.
“If you admire us humans so much, why do you leave those souls to languish by the shore?”
“I do not leave them. It is their choice. The human spirit is strong, the will to live the strongest of all. Many refuse to accept their fate, accept that they no longer belong to the living. They refuse to leave the shore line in hope they will find a way home. Their hope is in vain, unfortunately, but they stay, unable to see the anguish they cause themselves by remaining forever with an eye to the way they’ve already journeyed.”
“How long have they been there?”
“When the people stopped worshiping me, the souls stopped coming. Now they go to the Christian god and the Devil. Those that line the shore have done so for millenniums. I’ve lost count of the time.”
“No new faces in that long, things must be a little slow by now.”
“There are times I curse the mortals that brought me here. If only they had given me a better story. But they did give me my beautiful wife, my light, and for that I am eternally grateful. Alas she is not with me at the moment and so I am in mourning.” He waved a hand from his head to his feet encompassing the entirety of his black self. “My people mourn too. You will find us an unhappy bunch at this time. While she brings light to the world above, down here it is cast black. Night descends until she returns again.”
I halted, which brought him to a stop as well. “You’re saying you exist because of mortals.”
He nudged me to walking again with his hand still at my back. “As do us all, my friend. You see, this is the power of the soul. With enough conviction the soul can do mighty things. But it has to be something you belief without question.” He patted his chest. “It must come from here, without doubt.”
“And a whole lot of believers would help.”
“Which gave me a larger domain. Mine has sadly shrunk over the years.”
We were chatting nice and friendly, so perhaps it was time to drop the question; no point in dragging out the only thing I wanted to know. “My reason for being here is…?”
“Come.” He swept his arm forward. I slowed as I gazed in the direction he indicated. Before us a vast hall materialized out of nothing. I’d expected us to enter a castle or something else as grand, like out of a fairytale, which is about all I knew of ancient mythology.
Two chairs waited for us, surrounding a round table, looking like it had been carved out of solid rock. The big plush chair would be Hades. The other chair, in comparison, looked like it would fit a school child.
“Sit. We have much to talk about.”
This is where negotiations began. I did as told because there was only one way out and the gate keeper needed warming up to the idea of letting me go.
Once I sat food appeared on the table, plate after plate of delights, meats, cheeses, fruit and rolls. A fat glass appeared next to a bowl of grapes and next to that a large carafe of red wine.
“Enjoy. I understand eating while making deals is a quaint habit of the living.”
Making deals sounded more promising than your soul is mine. “Looks tempting but I don’t think I should eat it. I’m sure I read somewhere that eating food from the dead will bind my soul.”
He sat back with a glass of red in his hand. “Cautious.” He nodded his head slowly. “Admirable trait.”
Might as well get the negotiations under way. “Why did you recruit Dominic?”
“I’m interested in you. I believed Dominic held enough vengeance in his soul to be of use to me. I was wrong, until now. Although I do believe it is your own doing that has prompted this visit.”
“Good, so you do understand that I am not dead.”
“Most unfortunate.”
This was sounding better and better. Did that mean he couldn’t have my soul? “Which means you cannot keep me here.”
Hades arched his head back and laughed. The sound wasn’t too unpleasant, but it failed to raise even a small chuckle in me.
“I am a god. I can do what I want.”
“With the dead who arrived on your shores, yes, but I am not rightfully yours. I didn’t worship you. I didn’t even know you were real until now. Which means you have no control over me.”
One sip then he stared at me through slitted eyes. “I knew I would like you.” He jerked forward, at the same time the food disappeared, the glass from his hand also vanished. “Let us play a game.” A pack of cards, neatly stacked in the center of the table, replaced the food.
“What are we playing for?”
He leered at me as he swiped the cards toward himself and shuffled them like a croupier. They turned to a blur as they flew through his hands. After the lightning speed shuffle was complete he replaced them in the center.
“The stakes are high.” He said.
“My soul if you win, my freedom if you lose.”
“Like I said, you are a smart man.”
I placed my hand on his, which was as cold as marble, that rested on the center pile. “Before you deal, I want to know why you want my soul.”
“That would involve another game. If you win, I tell you the truth, you lose and you never know.”
“Not good enough. What if I refuse to play either game.”
“How will you gain your freedom?”
Good question. I had no answer. “Let’s just play the first game.”
Hades pushed the cards toward me. “Your deal.”
“What’re the rules?”
“Do we need rules?”
“How will I know if you cheat?”
“Again the caution, or is that mistrust I hear.”
“Both I’d say. You want my soul, I don’t expect you to play fair.”
&n
bsp; “Mortals are the biggest cheats of all. I could say the same about you.”
“If I don’t know the game how can I cheat?”
Hades reclined. “This conversation is a pleasant way to waste time.”
I shut up and reached for the cards. The moment my hand touched the top of the pile my mind was shunted forward from Hades’ cave into a scene of chaos. I couldn’t grasp the images long enough to make sense of what I saw, faces, bodies, movement combining into a blur, which spun my brain until I thought I would throw up.
I flung my hand from the deck and sat back heavy in my seat, panting like I’d been the one whose frenetic movement I’d imagined in my head. Hades eyed me from his side of the table. Right now, cunning was the only presence living behind that stare.
“What was that?”
He shook his head. “What was what?”
“You’ve revealed your hand early. I see there will be nothing honest about this game.”
“You’re a shrewd partner.”
Did I dare touch the cards again. I tried to rewind the flashes of imagery that had swept my mind before, enough for me to understand what was there. Faces, whose faces? Every one of them had been obscured in some way. But there was familiarity in the clothes, gestures and movement. These were all people I knew. Trinity definitely, and one I’m sure had been Bethany. I frantically searched for any signs of Bounty, unease creeping up my throat to strangle me.
“You saw my past when I touch the cards.”
As if stuck in slow motion, Hades inched his hands together for three firm claps, his languid response sending tendrils of anxiety through my body.
“What does it mean to you?”
“You ask someone who has lived amongst the dead for millenniums what it means to share the story of a life.”
“This means more to you, else why be so cagey about taking my memories?”
He sighed. “If I had known you’d be such a difficult adversary I wouldn’t have bothered.”