Page 11 of Dead End (Crossroads Queen #9)

CHAPTER ELEVEN

The mist clung to the air like dense spiderwebs. I resisted the urge to swat it away, knowing the action was futile. The mist was part of the underworld’s ambience, much like the road I’d taken to Helheim. For different cultures, we sure had a lot in common.

A heavy silence enveloped the area, broken only by the distant echo of mournful whispers and the faint rustle of unseen entities. I tried to put myself in the shoes of the souls that traveled here, some willingly, others not so much. It had to be an arduous journey for them, not because of any dangers involved, but because of the emotional impact. I pictured Ray and Nana Pratt walking on either side of me. Instant mood booster.

A chilling breeze swept past me, carrying with it the scent of damp earth and decay. The atmosphere was thick with anticipation, a palpable reminder that this was far more than a passage; it served as a threshold between life and the unknown, shuttling the arrivals into the depths of darkness. Finally, the mist thinned until I could finally see what was ahead of me .

A river.

The underworld included five rivers: Styx, the river of hatred; Lethe, the river of forgetfulness; Phlegethon, the river of fire; Cocytus, the river of wailing; and Acheron, the one in front of me.

The river of woe.

This was the first river the souls encountered, the one they crossed in a ferry to reach their final destination, which was now my final destination, too.

A silhouette moved. I crept closer to investigate, clinging to the shadows. A man shuffled toward a long, narrow boat. His wild white hair looked like it hadn’t been groomed since Pythagoras postulated his theorems. He wore a homespun tunic and nothing else. His name sprang from my mouth fully formed.

“Charon.”

The ferryman observed me with a stare that was as cold and unyielding as his slate-gray eyes. “You are flesh and bone.” His voice was as coarse as sandstone.

I patted my pockets excitedly. “I have a coin.” The crows knew me better than I knew myself.

“Even with a coin, you are not welcome to board this boat.”

I separated from the shadows. “Charon, it’s me. Melinoe.” I remembered him now, clear as crystal, as though I’d seen him only yesterday. The ferryman liked to bring me sweets and always carried extras for Cerberus. He was kinder and gentler than his demeanor suggested.

Charon spat on the ground. “Nonsense. You look nothing like Melinoe.”

“Here. The coin.” I held up the silver dollar.

“I’ll accept nothing from a living, breathing mortal.”

It was hard to feel like a stranger to someone who’d spent so much time with me. “You gave me my first book,” I blurted. The memory crystallized. “You told me that a well-read goddess was a merciful one.”

His slate-gray eyes softened to the color of a rain-soaked cloud. “How can you possibly know that?”

I braved the shoreline. “Because you said those words to me, Charon.” I pressed on. “You’re partial to peppermint candies. You’d ask my mother to bring them back for you whenever she visited the mortal realm.”

His look of astonishment was quickly replaced by one of relief. “Is it really you?”

I embraced him. “Yes.”

He squeezed my body, as though wanting to prove I was real and tangible, not one of the many souls here to board his boat. “Hestia, I mean Her Majesty, said… I just didn’t know what to believe.”

“I’m here to see her,” I said, withdrawing from the embrace. “Hestia. She asked me to relieve her by the summer solstice.”

“You’re early.”

“I doubt she’ll object.”

Charon’s smile was wry and knowing. “Your aunt isn’t suited for the throne. She misses the quiet, along with her creature comforts.” His brow furrowed. “Why have you come the way of souls?”

I was too embarrassed to admit I didn’t remember another route. “Like you said, I’m early. She isn’t expecting me yet.” I gestured to the boat. “Can you give me a lift?”

His pupils dilated. “I cannot transport a mortal being deeper into the underworld. You know this.”

It took me a second to realize why he seemed scared. “I’m not Hercules, old friend. Hestia wants me here.” Centuries ago, Charon had helped the living Hercules gain access to the underworld for his twelfth labor. As punishment, my father shackled the ferryman for a year .

Charon’s gaze flicked to the souls gathered on the dock. “As long as you don’t mind riding with them.”

“I’m the goddess of ghosts, remember? I’ll be in my element.”

He hugged me again. “It’s wonderful to have you home, Melinoe. We’ve all missed you.” He paused, his eyes downcast. “You and your parents.”

I pushed the comment down deep where I couldn’t access it. I didn’t want to think about my parents right now. Inch by inch, life’s a cinch , I thought to myself. One of Nana Pratt’s mantras.

I boarded the boat and walked to the prow, where I knew Charon preferred to stand. I picked up the pole that he typically handled. “Mind if I do the honors for this journey?”

“Do you remember the first time I left you in charge of the pole?” His belly laugh was music to my ears. “You nearly capsized the boat and all the souls in it.” He slapped a hand on the boat’s rail and laughed again. “Hades would’ve tossed me into Tartarus if that had happened.”

“He wouldn’t have done that. He loved you like a brother.” A brother he was willing to shackle for a year, but some sibling-style relationships were complicated, like Thor and Loki.

Charon’s smile evaporated. “Your father could be strict. Still, the underworld hasn’t been the same since the three of you left. Hestia is wonderful, of course, but…”

“Change is a natural part of life.”

“Maybe in the mortal world, but not here. The underworld is meant to be linear, not cyclical.”

He made a good point. The gods were eternal. We weren’t designed for change, which was probably one of the reasons so many of them bit the carrots dangled by The Corporation. Some deities craved novelty the way some people like Nana Pratt actively avoided it .

I observed the glooming river, a funeral procession in liquid form. The boat rocked, prompting a few souls to grab the nearest hard surface. Charon’s mouth puckered as he peered over the side.

“Everything okay?” I asked.

“I don’t see anything. Must’ve been a rock that came loose from the riverbed.”

The boat lifted a foot out of the water and landed back on the surface with a hearty splash. Souls screamed and clung to each other like tears to lashes.

“Not a rock,” I said. My fingers tightened on the pole. At least I had a weapon. I climbed onto the rail.

“What are you doing, child?”

“Preparing to greet whatever’s trying to capsize us.”

“You’re the one who will capsize us if you don’t get down from there.” His eyes pleaded with me. “You’re frightening the souls.”

I hopped back into the boat. “Don’t blame me if a giant monster swallows us whole.”

“There are no monsters in Acheron large enough to eat us. Even if there were, they wouldn’t…”

The boat pitched to the left, causing Charon to knock into me. I helped him regain his balance. “You were saying.”

The vessel came to a dead stop. The river rushed around us like we were an insignificant boulder in its path.

His bushy white eyebrows rippled as he gazed at the water. “This shouldn’t be.”

“I get the feeling Acheron doesn’t want to deliver these souls to the gates of the realm.”

Charon’s stunned gaze drifted to me. “It isn’t the souls. It’s you. The river doesn’t know who you are. All it senses is a living mortal.”

I cupped my hands around my mouth. “Acheron, it’s me! Melinoe! ”

Charon gently lowered my hands. “That won’t convince it.”

“Why not? Convinced you.”

“You spoke to me. Told me things only Melinoe would know. The river doesn’t communicate like we do.”

“Then what?” I asked, but I already knew. I thrust the pole into Charon’s waiting hand. “Don’t let me drown, okay? Hestia won’t appreciate another thousand years on the throne.”

He balked. “Have you forgotten? The water is poisonous.”

“Not to me.”

“This is your human form, you said so yourself.”

“I’m still a goddess of this realm.” Achilles was only a demigod when he was dipped in a river of the underworld and enhanced by its powerful properties. If he could survive, so could I.

I climbed onto the rail and dove headfirst into the icy water. If Acheron wouldn’t recognize my voice, maybe it would recognize my soul upon contact.

The water churned as its defenses rose to meet me. Eels undulated toward me, hissing. I swam down to the depths of the river to avoid them, conjuring as many happy childhood memories with Acheron as I could muster. Splashing along the riverbank with Cerberus. Swearing an oath to protect the hellhound as he protected the underworld. Emotions and imagery together with my physical presence might help close the river’s knowledge gap faster.

The flow of water slowed, and the hissing of the eels came to an abrupt end as recognition filtered through. The water rushed around me in a whirlpool, an excited embrace to welcome me home.

I shot to the surface and swam to the boat. Charon used the pole to assist me. The souls cowered behind him, uncertain .

“It’s all good now,” I told them. “We won’t encounter any more trouble.”

They appeared to relax, which made me feel better. Being newly dead was difficult enough. No need for drama on your way to the afterlife.

Charon wrapped a blanket around my shoulders. “I only have the one, I’m afraid. I don’t normally need blankets for my passengers.”

The boat picked up speed, and I opened the blanket to let the wind dry my clothes. By the time we docked, I was only mildly damp.

I looked at Charon. “Do I need to do anything with the new recruits?”

“No, child. You go speak to your aunt. She’ll be pleased to see you.”

I pecked him on the cheek. “Not as thrilled as I am to see you.”

His cheeks colored. “Don’t be a stranger, Melinoe.”

My steps faltered when I realized I had no idea which way to go. The souls were streaming into different lines, following an unseen set of instructions. As I wasn’t one of the dead, I received no such instructions.

I knew I’d encounter at least one more river before I reached the central part of the underworld, but it was difficult to tell which stream of souls to follow. No one looked destined for Tartarus or Elysium. They just looked like people.

I turned to ask Charon for assistance, but the ferry was already gone, off to retrieve the next boatload of the dead.

There were no signs. No guides. I’d have to wing it. I closed my eyes for a moment to attune to my surroundings. When I inhaled the air to the left, my nostrils burned. To the right was a floral scent.

I opened my eyes. Small dots danced at the edges of my perception. I turned to see a row of grayish-white flowers glowing in the darkness. Asphodel. I chose the path to the right.

The glowing asphodel illuminated the path for the souls that traveled it. I joined the end of the line and teetered behind them. More plants joined the asphodel: narcissus, hyacinth, white poplars, and even a cypress tree. The flora of my homeland. I’d forgotten them until now. How many other memories were still missing?

The souls were drawn forward like magnets, seemingly oblivious to the plants as they continued to drift forward in a steady stream.

And there it was. The river Lethe, also known as the river of forgetfulness. On their way to the underworld, the soul drinks the water and then wades across this body of water to wash away their pain and suffering and literally forget their past in preparation for the afterlife.

I had to admit, it was tempting.

No more fears about The Corporation. No angst. No undercurrent of grief and loss to drown me.

I dipped a hand in the river and made a swirling motion in the water. I couldn’t miss what I couldn’t remember, right?

Wrong.

I snatched my hand away. I knew better than anyone that it was still possible to feel a gaping hole without understanding the reason why, not to mention that if I let this river take my memories, I’d forget the good as well as the bad. I needed those positive thoughts to sustain me in this dark place.

A memory bloomed of Bruce Huang in the Chinese underworld. The fuzanglong hadn’t wanted to drink from the broth of oblivion before crossing the Bridge of Pain because he hadn’t been ready.

Neither was I .

I watched the souls swallow water as they waded across to the opposite shore. On the one hand, it was a merciful option, to let them forget. On the other hand, what lessons would they learn from their time in the mortal realm? Those who were sent to Tartarus didn’t encounter the river Lethe, and with good reason—they were doomed to remember their past transgressions and the reason for their punishment. Their path to the underworld was not this one. I was grateful to have chosen wisely. The other three rivers had terrified me as a child; I didn’t wish to encounter them now.

I caught my reflection in the water. Tangled hair. The dark side of the half moons under my eyes. I looked as haggard as I felt. At least Gun wasn’t here to see me like this. No doubt the critique would have been devastating.

A head popped out of the water. “Hey, I know you.”

I scrambled back from the river, scattering pebbles and dirt in the process. A nymph. She was only a nymph.

She scrutinized me. “Why do you look like that?”

“Because you startled me.” Despite the nymph’s exposed head, her mixture of blue, green, and brown coloring helped her blend in with the environment.

“No, I mean like that.” She pointed at me. “Your hair. Your face. I heard you’d changed, but I seemed to have missed a few critical details.” She swam to the river’s edge. “Do you remember me?”

“You’re Lethe.” The truth was that I didn’t remember her, but I knew there was only one nymph in this river—the one who gave the river its name. She was the daughter of Eris, the goddess of discord and strife.

Smiling, the nymph tilted her head at a jaunty angle. “That’s me.”

“How did you know I was here?”

“I didn’t until I felt your presence in the water. I was so excited when I recognized you, I swam straight here. I’ve missed you, friend.”

A yawn overtook me, so unexpected and powerful it nearly cracked my jaw in two. “What on earth?”

“You touched the water,” Lethe said. “It makes you drowsy. Easier to usher the souls across without them getting distracted.”

“I remember now.” Occasionally the river’s calming effect would be too great, and we’d find souls snoozing along the riverbank. I’d gotten a kick out of that as a young goddess.

“Are you sure you didn’t drink the water?” Lethe asked. “You seem awfully forgetful for someone who was raised here.”

“I’m forgetful for reasons that have nothing to do with the river.”

“I’d love to hear about it.” The nymph folded her arms on the riverbank while her body remained steeped in water.

A memory floated to the surface. “You listen to their life stories.” Lethe collected those stories the way a dragon hoarded treasure.

“Only those who feel inclined to share. Some of them can’t swallow fast enough to forget.” She snorted. “Now those are the stories I’d really like to hear.”

“Sorry to disappoint you, but I’m not here to drink, only to get across.”

One eyebrow popped into a V-formation. “Are you sure about that? You looked ready to sample the goods.”

“I had to sit with myself for a minute, but I’m good now. The moment passed.”

“Most souls need the catharsis.”

“I’m not here as a soul.”

She rested her chin on the heel of her hand. “Why are you here? This is the mortal entryway. ”

“My visit is unexpected. I wasn’t meant to be here until summer solstice.”

Her green eyes sparked with interest. “Oh, right. I heard about Hestia’s demand.”

Gossip was as ripe and ready here as in Fairhaven. “What else did you hear?”

“Not much. Everybody knows Hestia has wanted to leave for a long time. I was surprised to learn she gave you until summer solstice.”

“Has the underworld been stable?” I almost added “since my parents left,” but I didn’t want to invoke them in the conversation.

“Relatively. Just because Hestia doesn’t enjoy the role doesn’t mean she isn’t reasonably good at it.”

That was the way I looked at it. Just because I didn’t want to be here didn’t mean I was doomed to fail. And I knew the underworld was better off in my hands than The Corporation’s. This territory would stay protected from their undue influence.

“Why do you ask?” Lethe stretched her neck forward, ears eager.

“No particular reason.”

She slipped away from the river’s edge and bobbed in the water. “Well, I, for one, am glad you didn’t drink. Now that you’re back home, I hope you’ll visit. I always enjoyed your company.”

“I’ll do my best.” I had no idea how much work would be involved in running a realm by myself. I couldn’t even maintain the Castle without help. I’d have to rely on those who’d served under my parents and Hestia to act as my advisors.

“Would you like company as you wade across? You’re the last one in this group.”

I glanced to the other side where the souls had gathered. “Sure. ”

I entered the water. Unlike the icy temperature of Acheron, Lethe was warm and inviting.

“I’m surprised you were able to get on the ferry without a coin.”

“I brought one, but he refused to accept it. I’m not a soul seeking admittance.”

“Technically you are,” Lethe said, “but I take your point.”

“How’s your mother?” I asked.

“Busy, as always. She spends more time in the mortal realm than anywhere else.”

No surprise there. The goddess of discord and strife was very good at her job. I was surprised I hadn’t crossed paths with her at any point.

“Whenever you’re ready to share your story, I’m here. I’m an excellent listener.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks.”

Lethe offered a friendly wave. “See you around, Melinoe.” The nymph disappeared beneath the rippling waves.

I emerged from the water as dry as a bone. The gateway to the inner realm loomed large ahead of me, as beautiful and intimidating as I remembered. The ancient archway had been carved from stone that had grown jagged and dark by centuries of use. Gnarled roots snaked around its base. Intricate symbols adorned the arch, each etched with care, hinting at the fates that awaited the souls. The door was shut at the moment, holding back the secrets that lay beyond.

Cerberus sniffed me out immediately, bounding toward me with the energy of a ten-week-old puppy. The souls huddled together at the sight of him.

“It’s okay,” I told them. “He won’t hurt you.” I stroked each of the three heads. “He’s a gentle giant.”

The souls inched closer, staring at the creature with wide eyes. I tried to picture the interaction from their point of view. A three-headed beast with glowing eyes and scalding saliva that dripped from his jowls. If I hadn’t been raised with him, I’d be terrified too.

A bell sounded, haunting and ominous. The door creaked opened.

Souls surged forward, eager to have the secret revealed. I held back with Cerberus and let them press inside. I was in no rush.

The hellhound accompanied me through the archway. He stayed a couple steps ahead, on alert to fend off any objections to my unorthodox arrival.

“I remember the way now,” I told him, in case he thought he had to lead.

The hellhound waited for me to fall into step with him and continued.

We were in the inner part of the realm now, the heart of Hades where the gods dwelled and where the underworld was divided into sections: the Asphodel Meadows, where ordinary souls wandered; The Elysian Fields, also known as Elysium, where honored souls enjoyed an idyllic afterlife; and Tartarus, the pit of despair where gods were imprisoned and souls were punished.

Then, of course, there was the inner sanctum where I’d lived with my parents. It wasn’t a typical palace, although there was a throne room. Like the archway, the residence had been carved from ancient stone and filled with the treasures my parents had collected from the mortal realm over the centuries. Vases. Urns. Paintings. Draperies.

Cerberus nudged me toward the throne room, where my aunt was holding court. Her gaze landed on me immediately.

“You are dismissed,” she announced, cutting someone off mid-sentence.

Curious eyes skimmed me as they filed out of the room. I waited until the space was clear to enter, leaving Cerberus to wait in the hall .

“You came.” My aunt sounded surprised.

“Another option failed to present itself.” There was no reason to burden her with events at home. I doubted she would care anyway.

She drummed her fingers on the arms of the throne. “I see. Well, I’m pleased to have you here. I wish you felt the same.”

“It would make things easier for both of us, wouldn’t it?” I rolled my shoulders. “I’m tired from the journey. I’d like to withdraw to my chambers for a bit, if you don’t mind.”

“Very well. I’ll have the servants keep a meal warm for us. We shall dine together and discuss the transition plan.”

Cerberus accompanied me to my chambers. The hellhound sat outside while I took stock of the bedroom I barely remembered. A solid gold minotaur still sat atop the bookcase. I was shocked no one had stolen it by now. Then again, who would dare steal from the gods?

I inspected the contents of the wardrobe. New clothes had already been delivered in anticipation of my arrival. Hestia was a confident goddess.

After a quick dip in the bath, I changed into a pair of soft cotton pajamas, lamenting my failure to pack my favorite T-shirt and sweatpants, and climbed into bed. I slept soundly, all things considered.

I awoke to a rumbling stomach and dressed quickly. I had no idea what time it was. Cerberus had vacated his post, so I made my way to the dining hall on my own.

Hestia must have been alerted to my arrival because she joined me only moments later, along with servants carrying silver platters of food.

“Eat, my darling. You must be famished by now.”

I was. The meal was hearty and wholesome, and I expected nothing less from the goddess of hearth and home.

Hestia gestured to my empty goblet, and I nodded. A servant appeared beside me and filled the goblet with wine from a jug.

“How are you feeling?” Hestia asked, as she tucked into her date-stuffed chicken.

“Like an imposter. I have no experience running a realm. I don’t even know how to instruct the servants.”

Hestia offered a sympathetic smile. “Not to worry. I won’t run off and abandon you. As I said, we shall have a transition period. Your early arrival is a gift. It gives me additional time to organize a peaceful transfer of power.”

I forced the red wine down my throat. “Was there a chance there wouldn’t be a peaceful transfer?”

“Oh my darling, you have been away for a long time.” She sampled her side salad. “Whenever there is change, there are opportunists. They lurk here as much as anywhere else.”

Despite the velvet cushion, my chair suddenly felt hard and uncomfortable. This right here was the reason I didn’t want Kane to join me. “Did that happen to you?”

She broke into an unnatural smile. “We’ll sort you out, not to worry. No one will be strong enough to threaten your place on the throne.”

“Is there anyone we might want to consider as a backup? I don’t have any heirs.”

She regarded me through appraising eyelids. “Yes, there is that small matter. No chance you’re with child?”

I blinked in response.

“Never mind. That was intrusive. I apologize.” Her eyes gleamed with mischief. “Although you and I both know the underworld is a wonderful place to raise a child. Plenty of open space to play, very little danger, and a three-headed hellhound for a nanny.”

I was fully focused on my plate now. If I could’ve turned it into a portal and disappeared, I would have.

“I’m not here to create a new family,” I said .

“I must say, I’m surprised you came so willingly. Did you and that demon prince of yours part ways? A shame, really. Your relationship reminded me of your mother and father’s. Uptown girl dates downtown boy. A tale as old as time.”

“Arguably, we’re both from downtown,” I said. “Kane and I… We would’ve liked to stay together.”

“The others would never approve of a demon ruling by your side as king consort.”

“I’m aware, which is why Kane won’t be coming here.” I tried to sink a tone of finality into the words so that Hestia would drop the subject.

“Understood.” She ran the edge of a napkin across her mouth. “Do let me know if there’s anything you need. I had the servants stock your chambers, but I’m sure I’ve missed some things.”

“I wouldn’t mind having a shower installed. I’m not big on baths.”

“I’ll see to it at once.”

“Thank you. I appreciate it.”

“If I can’t make a goddess feel welcome in her own home, then I’m not worthy of my title.”

The meal was capped off by a glass of port and a generous serving of baklava. As much as I missed Nana Pratt, I couldn’t complain about the underworld dining experience. Hestia and I discussed the series of meetings that she had planned that would help acclimate me, the first of which would be tomorrow. My head grew heavier as she tossed out names and titles by the dozen.

By the time I retired to my chambers, I was practically a dead goddess walking. I dressed for bed in a new set of pajamas that had been left folded on the bench at the foot of my bed. The dark blue silk was decorated with silver stars. It looked like I was swaddled in Night herself.

Cerberus positioned himself outside my door again. Either the hellhound wanted me to feel secure my first night back or he knew something I didn’t. I voted in favor of the former.

I plumped my pillow several times before finding it comfortable. This may have been an underworld palace, but it wasn’t the Castle.

There’s no place like home , I thought.

Famous last words.