Page 34 of Love and Death (Tempting the Fates #4)

HAZEL

T he obols do not work here, at least, as far as I can tell.

My boots are first to fill with the frigid water, squelching as they weigh my steps down, dragging against me, until the water rises above them and then to my knees. I’m already shivering, little icy droplets peppering me from above.

“I am sorry I cannot carry you,” Cerberus says, glancing back when my teeth begin to chatter. “It will not be long now.”

I only nod in answer, the cold making it too hard to talk as it splinters up my bones. My toes have already gone numb, and I can’t feel my fingers, despite holding onto Cerberus’ shirt for dear life.

Still, the water climbs higher, past my knees and halfway up my thighs to snap frozen lightning at my inner thighs with each rippling movement. There’s a current now that I hadn’t noticed before, pulling at me, dragging at me, and I find each step harder and harder to take.

My torch flickers over the water, small hisses of protest escaping it with each droplet from above. Ahead of me, Cerberus grunts as he readjusts his hold on Death, and I almost lose my hold on the torch as the floor slopes suddenly and drives water up to my waist.

“Cerberus,” I gasp in fear and shock.

“Keep going! We are almost there,” he says, although his repeated encouragement has started to lose its effect. “Just around the next corner and—”

Something bumps against my calf.

“Cerberus,” I say with a startled scream, my grip on his shirt tightening even as I nearly lose my footing.

“What is it?” he asks, turning to look at me.

“I don’t think we’re alone in here,” I whisper.

Neither of us moves for a few seconds, and then I feel—

I scream as something wraps around my leg, and pulls . Cerberus grunts, trying to reposition Death in his arms to grab me, but it’s impossible.

I am pulled under, the icy water forcing a muffled scream and an explosion of bubbles from my lips. Something crawls up my legs, icy tendrils spidering their way around my body as I’m dragged to the floor.

It’s too dark to see anything; my torch lost beneath the waters with me. All I feel is thousands of tiny fingers wriggling along my body, up my neck, and then over my chin to pry open my mouth.

I thrash against it, every fiber of my being in horror as I use the last bit of air left in my lungs, and my muscles start to give way to the creature. My body goes limp just as water rushes around me, and then, I’m choking.

Gagging, as Cerberus lifts me out of the water and pulls something squirming out of my mouth. I cough, water spilling from my lips as I’m jostled against the heat of his chest as he fights against the current.

Finally, I hear the swirling gurgle of the water give way to splashing as we move on to dry ground once again.

“Hazel,” Cerberus drops to his knees to lay me down, flames licking to life to edge his head and shoulders as he peers down at me. “Did you … are you …”

I cough, rolling over to spew the remainder of the Styx on the ground.

“What was that?”

“That was a Maniphage.”

“A what?”

“One of the torments that breeds within the Styx, a convergence of pieces of various damned souls. In this case, it would appear to have been … fingers.” He looks down at his feet before adding, “I honestly do not know how you survived it unharmed.”

“What do you mean by unharmed?” I scoff.

“Well, they tend tear off the body parts they associate with, if they can, and this one definitely could have.”

I shudder, my stomach tightening and forcing me to dry heave, as if that might help relieve me of the memory.

“I thought you said it was safe here,” I say when I can finally speak again.

“It should have been,” he says, his voice rough. “The recent rise in the river must have caused something to get swept in here.”

“I can’t go back in there.”

He pulls me, shivering, into his arms, allowing the heat of his body to soak into my bones while I attempt to recover.

“You do not have to. We made it through. The gate is just up these stairs. Can you walk?”

I nod against his chest, and he reluctantly releases me.

Anything to get as far from these catacombs as I can. I pull myself up onto my feet, stabilizing myself against the stone wall as Cerberus lifts Eros and Death onto his body once again.

He lights a new torch and hands it to me as we climb. Reaching the top of the stairs, we turn, and a rush of fresh air—or, at least, as fresh as it can be down here—wafts in from a gate at the end of the tunnel.

Relief drags me down for a second before carrying me forward. Cerberus removes a key from behind a loose stone and unlocks the iron grate, pushing aside some old cobwebs and vines to allow me through.

Leaving my torch behind, I step out and turn to look up at the city as it looms up behind us, its high walls stretching toward the swirling sky, Hades’ palace rising in dark, ominous spires above it all.

Tears flow freely from me as a relieved smile breaks across my face.

Aglaia no longer confines us.

We have finally escaped the city .

“Where do we go now?” I ask once Cerberus finishes locking up the gate and hiding the key.

“We have to get to the gate.”

“What gate?”

“ The gate. My gate,” the hellhound clarifies.

“What about Hypnos? I thought we had—”

“Yes,” he cuts me off before I can panic that we’ve gone the wrong way. “We need to get to the gate because Hypnos lives on the other side of the Styx. He believes dreams have no purpose here, only nightmares, and I think I am starting to agree.”

“Isn’t it quite far from here?”

“Normally, but not for me. It is my gate, and when I call, it responds,” Cerberus responds, a low hum of pleasure in his voice. “I cannot shift, but it should not take us more than an hour to walk there from here. Are you ready?”

A horn sounds within the city, its call deep and resonating as it rattles your very bones.

“Either Hades has awoken, or they have just discovered Eris’ body.”

“Then I suppose we have no choice but to be ready.”

He gives me a wry smile pulled from the depths of exhaustion.

“Then run with me, little lamb. Run.”

The massive, ornate gates rise up before me far sooner than I’d expected.

When Cerberus told me to grab hold of him just before we stepped foot in the forest outside Aglaia, I thought it was simply to keep me from getting lost, but almost no sooner did we step into the tree line than we were spit right back out … and as close to the gates as possible.

“That is more like it,” the hellhound practically howls with excitement. “Finally, a bit of good luck.”

Only, his excitement fades as we draw closer, the sea of souls beyond the gate far greater than I remember, and then I realize my own mistake as my eyes catch on something.

A red ribbon, strewn on the ground, still half-tied around a rung.

“Cerberus,” I cry, dread pooling within me and weighing my steps down, “my father’s soul. I forgot him back in Aglaia. He’s still there somewhere!”

“We cannot go back.”

“I-I know, but—”

“As far as we know, he is still safe. You have to move forward. This may be your … our only chance.”

I swallow back the ache in my heart and nod.

“You’re right, I have to keep going. We have to save Death.”

My heart races as we move to stand before the imposing twisted metal of the gates, and then I freeze.

“What is wrong?”

“It’s still locked, Cerberus. We came all this way without remembering to find the key!”

“I am the Guardian of the Gates,” he says with a small chuckle, “you do not seriously think I would forget something as important as the key now, do you? ”

Placing Death down on the ground, he slips a hand into his shirt and pulls out the silver key I’d seen around Hades’ neck, grinning widely at me.

“When did you …” I trail off, hardly daring to believe my eyes.

“You would have known if you had watched me get dressed. Now, you might want to stand back, these souls are ready to go home.”

I step back as Cerberus pulls Death out of the way and, at long last, unlocks the gate.

It groans, yawning wide as it swings open its hungry mouth, and the souls pour in. I have to quickly move several paces away, not to be swept away with them their rush to get in is so great.

“I think it might be a while,” Cerberus shouts from the other side.

“I can wait,” I call back, feeling the relief of their souls as they make their way toward what I hope will be the joy and peace of their new home … and part of me wonders if I was wrong to hold my father back from that.

My thoughts are interrupted as I hear another horn blast in the distance.

“Hazel, we need to go, now!”

Cerberus gathers Death in his arms and forces his way through the gate, souls breaking against him like water against stone to flow off in either direction.

But it’s far too great a current for me.

“I can’t! There are too many!”

Somewhere behind me, I hear a thunderous rumble, and I glance back to watch as birds scatter to rise up in black clouds against the dark sky. Something is coming for us, and fast.

Before I can turn back around to say something, I’m suddenly caught up in the hellhound’s strong arms with a cry of surprise.

“Sorry, no time to ask,” he says, holding me tight to his chest as he struggles against the tide of souls.

Finally breaking free on the other side of the gate, he puts me down next to Death and Eros, his chest heaving as he winces in pain before quickly trying to hide it behind a smile.

“Cerberus—”

“Almost there, no time to lose. Charon will head back in a minute.”

He moves past me to reclaim his burden, and then he urges me back toward the Styx and its black waters.

Charon stands perfectly still on the dock next to his skiff, his face hidden in the hollow of his hood, his tattered cloak wafting about him. The sky has just barely started to lighten, a fog rolling in across the dark waters behind him.

“Charon,” Cerberus greets, his voice rumbling through my chest even as I hurry to keep up behind him.

“What,” the stoic figure starts, gnarled hands slipping from their sleeves for a moment as he is caught off-balance.

“Did I wake you?”

“What? Of course not,” he rasps. “I was merely … waiting.”

It’s only now that his gaze seems to turn on me, and a knot begins to form in my stomach under it .

“I—” the hellhound starts.

“No,” Charon hisses. “No, gods dammit. No! I am growing tired of seeing the same faces day in and day out. What do you think this is? A ferry for the dead and dying?”

“It is a ferry for the dead,” Cerberus says.

“You know what I mean. Dead and dying stay, they do not cross the other way.”

“Oh hell, have you suddenly taken a fancy rhymes and riddles?”

Despite being unable to see Charon’s face, I can tell he’s growing more flustered by the second, and I wonder if it’s wise to rile him up before seeking passage across the Styx.

“Cerberus,” I say, laying a gentle hand on his arm as I step forward, “might I try?”

“Be my guest.”

“I will pay what is owed for passage,” I begin, taking another step toward him, “but as you well know, you made a deal with Death. And I intend to collect on it.”

The wretched creature grumbles under his breath for a moment before letting out a deep moaning sigh.

“Fine, under one condition,” he sneers at me, his eyes flashing in the depths.

“No,” Cerberus interrupts before I can ask what he wants, Charon’s hood snapping toward him. “You are simply to ferry them safely to the other side. No deals, conditions, or deviations, am I understood?”

The hooded figure mumbles something unintelligible as he jerks a boney thumb toward his boat .

“I said, am I understood?” the hellhound snaps, startling the ferryman to attention.

“Yes,” he croaks.

“Good.” Cerberus strides across the dock and kneels to settle Death and Eros securely in the bottom of the boat before rising to hold out his hand to me. “Let me help you in.”

I take a steadying breath, and step forward to accept, more than happy to avoid touching Charon’s hand again. Settling onto one of the wooden seats, I turn to look up expectantly at the hellhound.

“Wait, wait, there is still the matter of payment. That will be, hmm,” Charon pretends to count on his twisted fingers, “four obols.”

“What? Why four,” I exclaim, looking down at the three coins I’d pulled out of my corset, suddenly realizing I don’t have enough to pay him.

“One for the pretty god here, one for the dog, and the two Death still owes me.”

“Is that true?” Cerberus questions. “Does Death still owe you two coins?”

“It is,” Charon says, his voice slithering down my spine.

“Three, then. As I am not crossing with them.”

“What?” Charon and I both gasp, although for entirely different reasons, and the ferryman quickly snatches all three obols from me in my shock.

“Hazel—”

“Don’t do this, please.”

“I have to.”

The ferry rocks as Charon steps down onto it, readying his pole.

“Why?”

Cerberus hesitates for a moment before kneeling down beside me on the dock, his eyes smoldering as they meet mine.

“Because I cannot trust myself around you,” he breathes, his voice too low for Charon to hear. “Eris was right about one thing … our bond was forced, and Hades will try to use it against me again.”

“I won’t let that happen.”

“You cannot promise that. Besides, someone has to guard the gates and hold hell back from chasing you.” His eyes search my face for a moment before he reaches up, and tears the sapphire ring from his ear, his jaw clenching against the pain.

“Here. Take these,” he insists, his voice catching as he grabs my hand and forces the ring and silver key into my palm, closing my fingers over them. “You must make sure Death gets these.”

“Why?”

“Death will know.”

The boat is suddenly pushed roughly away from the dock, forcing Cerberus and me apart.

“Wait, no, I cannot do this without you!”

“You can, and you will, mortal,” he shouts as Charon guides the skiff back with unusual speed. “Hazel, I was yours—”

The boat rocks wildly beneath me as we race into the heavy fog, the shore, the gates, and Cerberus vanishing behind in both sight and sound ...

And Charon chuckles darkly to himself.