Page 110 of Finders Reapers
Charon held out his arm, indicating that we should walk towards the door next to the platform, away from the chairs and Mr. Hernandez. I glanced at the single soul that sat amongst the rows and rows of empty chairs.
“He’ll be okay.” Charon waved over his shoulder before he opened the door. “Seminar doesn’t start for a few hours.”
I gave him the side-eye, and Charon chuckled. “The room will fill up easily enough.”
“Heaven or Hell,” I asked, instead of voicing my thoughts.
Charon shrugged. “Sometimes they go to Limbo. The arch decides.”
I pressed my lips into a thin line as I nodded in understanding.
Charon led me through the door to a conference room. A large round table took up most of the space, with one of those octagon conference phones in the center—it was empty, and the light took its time to flick on. The screen overlooking the table was blue with a white logo in cursive, displaying the word ‘Quietus’ as it bounced around the screen.
Charon pulled out a chair and invited me to sit.
I did and brushed my hands down the front of my skirt before facing him. “What did you want to talk about?” I asked.
Charon chuckled and sauntered over to the chair on the opposite side to put some space between us. “Sometimes it’s refreshing to speak to people that have no context for who I am as a being.” He told me, tapping the side of his head.
I gave him a long look.
Charon shook his head, amused. “I wanted to ask how you are handling your new role.”
“Is this a performance review?” I asked in disbelief.
Charon bit back a smile. “Kind of. The location settings on your phone have shown that you’re staying outside of Las Vegas with the rest of your Grim.”
“We told you about the purger attack,” I bristled.
“You did.” Charon soothed in his deep British accent. “I wanted to make sure that you felt safe, with your Grim, and that Mr. Bub wasn’t paying too much attention to you.”
“Mr. Bub?” I affected innocence.
Charon gave me a look. “Give me some credit, Valentina.” He tsked. “Who do you think asked Maddox to be wary of Mr. Bub in the first place?”
I stayed silent. Unwilling to give even a modicum of information.
Charon sighed and leaned forward; at that moment, he looked old. Older than time itself. “Hell,” Charon stated, taking a coin out of his pocket and placing it on the table. Before asking what he was doing, he took another out and put it on the other side. “Heaven.” He continued, pulling more coins from his pocket. “The Human Realities, and every reality in between—everything is circular. The demonic magic of hell is not self-sustaining. It requires souls to function. In turn, Hell rehabilitates those souls before they are cleansed, once worthy of heaven. Sometimes a soul will go through Hell seven times over, reincarnated, before they are worthy.”
I cleared my throat. “That’s a strict entrance criteria,” I joked.
Charon ignored me. “Beezlebub was not designed to have a hand in death. He is a being of Hell, first and foremost, bonded and molded by the sin that he presides over. He is Gluttony personified. It was not my choice to give him reign overmykingdom.” Charon continued. “But, alas, his demonic magic is needed to maintain what has been built here.”
“Are you not powerful enough?” I regretted the question the moment I said it.
Charon’s features grew sharper. More alien. Like a being made of crystal wearing a human mask. His eyes were pale ice blue, and there was no line between his iris and pupil. As soon as I saw it, it was gone.
“I am not a demon,” Charon said.
My eyes widened.
“I am the Ferryman.” He continued. “Once being such as myself are forced to intervene beyond our purpose, it does not gowell. My family is living proof of that.”
“Your family?” I echoed back, suddenly aware that I was alone with someone I didn’t know that well, and no one knew where I was.
Mr. Bub’s magic felt like a crushing pressure on my chest, but Charon’s was much more subtle. High altitude, gradually robbing me of breath.
“My family...” He rolled his hand. “You know, the Balance, Nova the goddess of life, Mara, the goddess of death. Just to name the more well-known beings.”
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