Forsaken Fates

by S J Doran

  “I leave you two for only a few moments and you are at each other’s…”

  Cassius pace faltered, his gaze drifting from Levistus to the bloodied face of the once beautiful Basileus, before finally coming to rest upon Mara’s blood coated hands. He looked horrified, whereas she found it to be a vast improvement. Monsters shouldn’t be allowed to hide behind such pretty faces.

  “What did you do?”

  A zing of shame burned through her. At least she suspected the sensation to be that of shame, for it was accompanied by the sudden urge to hide her bloodied hands behind her back. She didn’t.

  Instead, she set her shoulders in defiance, notched her chin up, and pegged her demon with her very best glare. He was angry with her, fine. She was angry too. She had needed to see Basileus suffer for all the misery he had caused. His, and hers. Yet Cassius had denied her vengeance, just like she was being denied his love. It seemed like the fates were hell-bent on denying her the two things she craved most.

  Are you sure that you have him?

  “Any idea how much a demon’s tongue is worth on the Anu-Hia markets? Don’t worry demon, I’ll donate the profit to some orphans if it will ease your conscience.” Hells, no denying now that Levistus had struck a nerve.

  That smokey voice she adored sounded distant when he hissed in her ear, her gaze turning to him to see the amber flames in his eyes burn low. Cold. “I killed him, isn’t that enough?”

  She bit her lip when it trembled, her magic surfacing at the sudden shift of emotions even as she crossed her arms around herself. How could he, no, how dare he ask that of her?

  “Not… even… close.”

  The rapidly building tirade was interrupted when a hand closed over hers, the touch unfamiliar. Shock eradicated ire when Levistus pulled her grip away from her chest to then reverently press a kiss atop the back of her hand.

  “We don’t always get what we deserve priestess.”

  She swung out, a bare miss when he let go of her hand and darted out of her reach, smiling at the streak of crimson her swipe had left behind on his clean shirt.

  “It seems I’m in need of a wardrobe change, again. You two better not try ending the universe while I’m away.”

  A nearby statuette of an angel and demon locked in an embrace followed his retreat, the likely priceless artifact shattering against basalt stone while her intended target made a clean getaway, his escape underscored by the sound of fading laughter.

  “At least have the decency to stand still when I’m trying to kill you, old man!”

  A strong grip encircled her wrist, this touch familiar as the air she breathed. Next thing she knew she was rather unceremoniously pulled along, out of the hall, through a corridor, until they’d reached a bathing chamber.

  She didn’t say anything when he guided her to an oversized sink, both silently staring at her blood coated fingers as he guided them under a stream of warm water.

  “You can try, but it won’t wash off.”

  “Of course it will.” His fingers tangled with hers, diligently working the heavy soap into her skin. Trying to erase the stain left by centuries of bloodshed, her own, and that of her victims.

  “Please don’t let it come between us.”

  “What are you talking about?” The caress stopped, his gaze meeting hers in the reflection of silvered glass, eyes no longer cold, but confused.

  “Your mercy, Cass. I don’t understand it.”

  “What kind of nonsense has Levistus been filling your head with?”

  There was no resistance left in her when those clever fingers moved again, despite knowing the futility of his efforts and the bleak symbolism they represented. Closing her eyes, she imagined the stain from her sins being washed away under his gentle touch, and relaxed against him.

  Safe. Loved. Cherished

  “You know I never give credence to anything the old goat says.”

  Stupid Mara. She already knew nothing would come between them again. Because he’d come back to her, just as he’d promised.

  Do you know the Ferryman?

  “I once thought he loved me… made me believe he did anyway,” Cass’s steps faltered when they walked back into his throne room to the sight of Bas with a pool of blood framing his head like a mockery of an angelic aura.

  “Obsession and hate are so easily mistaken for love by those who don’t comprehend the emotion. If it offers any comfort, I fully trust that Basileus believed himself in love with you. Just like Leira was convinced her vile actions were done out of love.” She gave him an impish grin. “Not Glasya though… she truly despises you.”

  His short bark of laughter matched her own, but the smile quickly faded, the flames in his eyes dousing as they scanned the body. He knelt back down beside Basileus, cautiously avoiding the pooling blood. She purposefully looked away when his fingers gently reached to close the eyes of the creature who once had been his friend, his mentor, his lover. Her torturer.

  “There was a time I would have given anything to be worthy of his love, and that of my father. I think part of me still yearns for it.”

  “You are thinking with sentiments rather than logic, son.” Levistus re-entered the room, strapping armor over a clean shirt. “Keep this up…” his had waved dismissively between Cass and the lifeless body of the once demon prince. “And you will discover yourself having sacrificed more than you were willing to give.”

  “Levistus…” she knew what he was referring to, mercy and compassion were generally regarded as noble traits, but not by her kind, and certainly not by demons. His duality was a double-edged sword, his yearning to be loved both a weakness and a strength. As a boy, it had served as his greatest motivator, as the sin-eater, it had made him an easy target to be exploited by his father’s court. Basileus had excelled at it. “Now is not the time for this.”

  “You dote on him too much Priestess. He is no longer a boy, but a king, one with responsibilities to answer for.”

  Her throat closed up the moment Levistus moved to stand at her side, her nostrils burning as if a fire had been lit from within.

  “Dark God’s almighty!”

  A quick glance up revealed Cassius also affected, finding him squinting and tearing up, his voice constricted to suppress a cough. “What in the nine hells is that smell?”

  “You like it? The vendor assured me this particular cologne to be highly appealing to the senses.”

  “You’re certain it was meant to attract a lady and not keep vermin away from your person?” Cass’s eyes narrowed, his tone biting. “The smell is more reminiscent of goat piss. Or was that the plan all along?”

  Her shallow gasp for air quickly turned into a coughing fit.

  “At this rate you two won’t even have the need for my magic, the reek on you is strong enough to revive any corpse within a two-mile radius.”

  Beside her, Cass let out what could either be a laugh or a cough, pressing his hand over her mouth before she could say anything more. He cast her a devious grin which she answered by running her tongue across his palm until he was forced to pull away to rub it dry against his shirt.

  “Mara...” he snickered, the flames in his eyes brightening. “Better things to do with that tongue.” He turned back to Levistus, the glow in his eyes banked as he narrowed them. “And should both beauty and charm fail to woo your Benzosia, we can at least find comfort in the knowledge that your smell will have left a lasting impression.”

  Levistus seethed, glaring at one of them, then the other.

  “That’s rich. Baiting me while your lover’s body lies cooling on the floor, knowing that your father will even now be finding a way out of his prison. And have no doubt that he will find a way. Boy.”

  “I won’t have your venomous bile infecting Amara. I’m not going to leave her Levistus, we will do whatever needs to be done.”

  “You’d be better served preparing for the war this is going to cause.” Levistus’s hand swept over the floor where Basileus’ body lay
stiffening. “Than setting off to the Underworld to speak with a goddess who won’t be allowed to become involved. But since your agenda matches my needs, I’ll watch over you both and see this done.”

  “Watch over us?” Mara sneered. “This is my turf you’re entering, old man. You’re coming along only because I’ve allowed it.”

  A surge of oppressive energy permeated the room, filling the air with thinly veiled anger. “I have waited centuries to see my Benzosia again, to speak with her. You two will not ruin this for me”

  Cass stiffened beside her. “That was never our intention, Levistus”

  She bristled. “Speak for yourself demon.”

  The task at hand was growing more unpleasant by the moment, the potency of the scent further souring the prospect of what lay ahead. She’d only ever ventured into the underworlds on her own, getting there was costly, but not difficult. It was the getting back that made the journey so damned perilous. And time would be of the essence.

  Her eyes drifted back to the lifeless figure upon the stone ground, the platinum hair which had been a staple of his beauty stained red with blood. Still, despite the blood and disfigurements inflicted by her blade, the once Prince of Pleasures retained his beauty. Only those who had met Basileus in life knew the truth, that behind that dreamy façade a nightmare had lived.

  With a quick tug, she pulled her braid free from Cassius’s grip. A habit he was quickly developing. “Shall we then? I’m eager to have this done with.”

  She turned on Levistus. “If you wish to live long enough to see your mistress, I suggest you make yourself useful. We need three jugs of sweet wine to carry along for the journey.”

  “It is a bit early to consume wine don’t you think Priestess, even for you...”

  A rhythmic pounding was building inside her skull, unsure whether to blame the headache on the circumstance, the company, or the stink of cologne.

  “Right, better make that four jugs then, and please go rinse off, you smell like succubus ass.”

  She let out a sigh of relief at Levistus’s departure, knowing he’d only agreed so not to delay their departure any longer.

  Nary a drop to drink

  “Mara, about Basileus…”

  “I get it, Cass.” She didn’t really but knew it was what he needed to hear at that moment.

  Same demon, a different girl, and still another life

  Without waiting for his response she pressed a note into his hand. “You will need to read this aloud to summon Charon, the ferryman will only answer the call of those grieving the deceased. Safe to say I won’t be any help to you on that score.” She’d felt like celebrating at the sight of life bleeding from his eyes.

  Refusing to meet his gaze she rummaged through the collection of pouches attached to her waistband, withdrawing a handful of coins. Obols, bartered for in the pirate markets of Anu-Hia, they were the toll Charon charged for transport into the underworld.

  “I am sorry for having loved him.”

  She shrugged off his statement with far more nonchalance than she felt, clinging to reason to help curb resentment. Her anger had festered over four centuries, while his was barely starting to surface. Cassius hadn’t yet had the time to come to terms with what had been done to him. And her. She shouldn’t be angry, she simply needed to have patience, that’s all.

  Once her demon remembered all that was taken from them, he would surely abandon his love for Basileus and even that for his Herald. He would again choose her, just like he had all those years ago. They were all the other needed.

  Are you sure you have him?

  “Basileus made sure you had no one else to turn to. He isolated you, then took my place and filled your world with his twisted passions. Part of you will always love him because of it, and it’s why I will forever hate him.”

  With more force than was necessary she pressed the obols against closed eyes, half expecting Basileus to waken as she did so. Her bogeymen was dead, one of the five names on her kill list finally scratched off. But rather than the triumph she’d imagined, she only felt a deep sense of disappointment.

  “Let’s get started.”

  His words sounded hesitant, yet they steadily grew in conviction with each repetition of the ancient envocation. “Kharon, akouste tinklisimou. Porthmeion, ela se mena…”

  Nine times would summon forth the ferryman, the presence of death opening passageway through the veil, Cassius’s grief acting as Charon’s compass. “Charon hear my call. Ferryman come to me. Make passenger of the one whose loss I mourn, and safely beyond the veil deliver him.”

  Amara reluctantly reached for the energy he manifested — forced to harvest his pain, she siphoned the sorrow Cassius felt at the loss of Basileus. Fusing that energy with her own, his grief became hers, the violation leaving her feeling dirty and used. She did not want to grieve him.

  Eager to be rid of the sensation, she opened her senses and allowed her consciousness to drift into the ether, her body anchored to the Nessus while her consciousness roamed that infinite space between creation and destruction. There she released her unwelcome burden, broadcasting Cassius’s grief and sorrow through the expanse of creation itself, where it would reach the ferryman.

  Pulling herself back into her body before the final word of the ninth verse was spoken, she was wide awake and alert to see basalt stone and obsidian glass dissipate. The imposing throne room of the Nessus, the seat of power to the nine hells slowly fading away, replaced by an endless stretch of horizon. A sky with no moon nor stars to break up the darkness.

  Though she could still feel the solidity of ground beneath her feet, water started to seep into her leather boots, the stone floor of the hall having transformed into an infinite body of black water, smokey tendrils of silver mist rising from its black mirrored surface. “The waters of the River Styx…”

  “Well, this is something you don’t see every day. ”

  By the sound of his voice and the sloshing of water, she concluded Levistus had returned from his errand. “Had you told me this would happen I might have opted for swimming attire instead”

  “You’re a handsome devil Levistus, I’ll give you that. But there is no way I would have agreed to take you to Kur sporting demon armor and a banana hammock.” The banter helped somewhat, the mental image of said demon sporting a horned helmet and too small swimming attire almost enough to shake her free from rising anxiety. Almost.

  The static hum of energy surrounded them, its charge coursing through the air like a laden breeze before the arrival of a devastating storm.

  “Mara…”

  A steady arm closed around her waist, his grip pulling her to his side, locking her against his body as if to shield her from whatever dared rise from beneath the water’s black surface.

  “Yes, I can sense it too. He’s coming.”

  Despite the fact she had witnessed this scene before, had come face to face with the ferryman and journeyed the underworld alone, she was suddenly very grateful Cassius was here with her. How had this not terrified her before? And why the hells did it frighten her now?

  The hum of energy was joined by the sound of churning water, soft at first, like a babbling brook, but soon the roar of a rapidly expanding whirlpool drowned out every other sound. Including Amara’s own scream when something grabbed at her leg. And when she kicked out it was to punt a severed arm into the distance. Corpses were starting to surface, even the darkness not fully able to hide to the sight of waterlogged bodies and peeling flesh. That had not happened before.

  “Cass, whatever you do… don’t look down.”

  Her hand curled under his chin when his head dipped to do just that. “Trust me on this one, demon.” He could hardly stomach the sight of her creatures, this was worse. Wet and dead just didn’t mix well together.

  Their gazes were drawn back to the center of the river when that roiling whirlpool began to open, transforming into a gruesome gateway of black water and body parts. From its depths, spectral han
ds broke through the surface, reaching for the open sky as if trying to escape their damnation.

  “Yup, you were right. Could really have done without that imagery.”

  Like a vengeful God of old he emerged, Charon, guide, and guardian of the deceased. The ferryman was standing in the center of his boat, the vessel appearing aged and rotted in places. Surely it would have sunk to the bottom of the dark waters had it not been carried above it by those same spectral hands.

  A small spark of light began to flicker awake within the oppressive darkness, spilling out from the candle-lit lantern attached to the bow the ferry.

  “Hail Charon, kapetanios of the Acheron and the Styx”

  “Hail priestess Amara, vessel of the ancients.” Milky white eyes moved over her, that unsettling gaze trailing until coming to rest upon the pocket where she kept the spirit crystal hidden away. “I see Namtar has failed in his efforts to claim your soul.”

  Her hand moved to cover the pendant protectively, tilting her head as she did to peg the servant of the Underworlds with a cheeky grin. “I wasn’t done with it yet.”

  The ferry drifted closer, stopping beside the body of the deceased whose sacrifice had given him passage into this realm. Most of his face and body was wrapped in cloth bindings, covering most of his features. But they couldn’t hide the curiosity in his expression as he bent over the side of the hull to inspect his price and cargo.

  “You sacrifice a Prince of the Hells to summon me? I am honored.”

  “Only the finest for you, Charon.”

  “The finest indeed… must be why he is missing his tongue.”

  “Merely making good on an old promise, you know what a stickler I am for those. We require passage to the lands of Kur.”

  “I heard the call, but do not recognize the voice. Who is it that mourns him?”

  She startled when warm fingers closed around hers, holding her steady while the sin-eater glared up at the ferryman. “I do. Cassius, ruler of the Nine Hells and King of the Nessus”