Page 35 of Love and Death (Tempting the Fates #4)

HAZEL

T he skiff glides across the dark waters, silent as the night, its single lantern swinging from the bow to light our way. Charon’s pole scrapes against the riverbed, stirring up the waters as he pushes us faster through the dark fog.

I grip Cerberus’ gifts tightly in my hand as I cling to the wooden seat with my other.

I wish I could say crossing the Styx this time is easier, but after the catacombs, I find it far worse. The boat creaks and groans, shuddering under us as souls and far worse beings bump and knock against it. I swear I can almost hear them clawing through the boards beneath my feet.

I grit my teeth, my knuckles whitening in fear as my grip tightens on the boat.

“I see you have not forgotten my river,” the ferryman calls out. “It would appear she has not forgotten you either. Hungry, she is, today. Perhaps she will feed on a few souls, yet! ”

I make the mistake of glancing out over the edge of the boat as pale shapes rise to drift just beneath the surface, their faces unrecognizable as once being human.

Dragging my eyes away, I stare down into the boat as the ferryman’s chortling laugh pierces the darkness, and I flinch, closing my eyes to it all.

I do not open my eyes again until we slam into the shoreline without warning and I’m thrown into the bottom of the boat alongside Death and Eros.

“Docking,” Charon screams, though we’ve already landed. “Everyone off.”

Relief washes over me until I stand to disembark, tucking the ring and key into my corset, and realize I cannot carry Eros or Death from the boat. What was Cerberus thinking?

“Hurry up now, new souls will be waiting,” the ferryman hassles me.

“I cannot lift them,” I admit. “I need help.”

“Tsk, tsk, I am afraid that is out of the question. If you cannot remove them, they shall be fed to the river.”

“You wouldn’t dare—”

“Hazel?” I turn at the sound of my name to find a tall man standing beside the boat, his golden, windswept curls and bronzed skin setting off the sparkle of his blue eyes, even in the lantern light, as he offers me a brilliant smile.

“Ah, it is you ! I must admit, I did not expect to see you again.”

“Nor I you,” I say with a small laugh.

“Hermes, what are you doing here,” Charon snaps. “You are delaying my departure with your tittle-tattle! ”

“Delaying you? Charon, there are no souls to ferry, yet.”

“I see differently, there are two lying in the bottom of my boat as it is.”

Hermes glances between us questioningly.

“They are too heavy for me to remove,” I explain. “So, Charon is insisting they should be thrown into the river, rather than offering his help.”

“Is that all?” Hermes snorts. “Here, I will help you.”

Leaning into the boat, Hermes pulls first Eros and then Death out and places them safely away from the river before returning once more. He doesn’t offer me his hand but simply picks me up by my waist to lift me over the edge before setting me down on the shoreline.

“Thank you.”

“Of course, you are most welcome,” Hermes responds brightly. “See, Charon, was that so hard?”

The ferryman only grumbles bitterly to himself as he pushes away from the shoreline … only to drift in sight just a few yards away.

“You mentioned my name,” I say, turning back to Hermes. “Why?”

“Oh, yes. I have a message for you.”

I blink up at him in surprise before quickly asking, “A message? From whom? What is it?”

Hermes stands straighter at this and clears his throat before announcing, “Hypnos. Hazel, Eros, Death. I will await you at the summit until dawn’s break.”

It takes me a second to understand that he has just given me the message and isn’t simply saying random words .

“Thank you for the message, Hermes,” I say, glancing up at the mountain and its winding trail to the summit as I let out a deep sigh.

“What is wrong?”

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to make it to the summit with them, let alone before dawn.”

Hermes’ face scrunches up in thought as he steps over to crouch down beside Eros and Death.

“I will carry him,” he says, pointing to Eros. “But I cannot carry Death up the mountain.”

“Then I am at a loss.”

Pain grips my heart as I try to swallow back tears of frustration, we are so close. We’ve been through too much, lost too much to fail now … there must be a way.

There has to be, I just need to think.

Turning away from the mountain, I wrap my arms around myself as I look out over the endless plains. My eye catches on distant movement, and I watch it dance across the pale gold of the grassland, grateful for the momentary distraction.

Slowly, my hands drop to my side as I take a step forward, my brow knitting together.

No, it can’t be.

A distant whinny.

“Knax,” I shout, jumping several times in my excitement. “Knax, here, boy! Over here!”

The shape takes form as he gallops across the plains, splitting the tall grass as he weaves his way through it, ghost-white and gleaming in the dark light of early morning. The earth trembles beneath my feet as his hooves thunder out the rhythm of his approach .

Slowing, the white stallion throws back his head, tossing his pale mane as he nickers in greeting before lowering his head to gently nudge my shoulder with his nose.

“I’m glad to see you, too,” I laugh, briefly running my hand down the bridge of his nose before he lifts it out of reach. “I need your help, Knax ... Death needs your help.”

“I do not think the horse speaks the same language,” Hermes informs me.

Knax pushes past me, suddenly noticing Death lying on the ground. I watch as he nervously paws the ground, bending to nuzzle his companion before shuffling back a few steps and doing it again, soft, worried snorts escaping him.

“I think we speak the same language. Not with words, but with shared understanding.”

“Perhaps you are right,” Hermes says with a soft hum, tilting his head to one side as he watches the stallion. “Here, help me get Death up onto his back, and then we must begin the climb.”

I slowly step closer to the white horse, lifting my hands in front of me as I make small sounds so as not to startle him. He lets me near, his coat rippling at my touch, but as soon as Hermes moves to touch Death, Knax rears up in protest.

The messenger god backs away as the horse calms to blow frustrated breaths from his nose that kick up the pawed-up dirt beneath.

“It’s okay, Knax, we want to help,” I say, trying again as I slowly kneel to pat Death’s shoulder and then pat the horse’s back .

It takes another minute for the stallion to fully calm down before we try again, and this time he lets us.

Tears spring unbidden to my eyes as I watch the bronzed god lift Death’s form onto the stallion’s back. Knax snorts, but remains perfectly still while Hermes finishes securing Death in place.

Finished, Hermes lets out a relieved sigh and then kneels to take Eros gently in his arms before turning back to me.

“Ready?”

“No, not really, but lead on.”

He gives me a kind smile, and I brush away the tears with the back of my hand as we begin our ascent. Hermes almost seems to move with no effort at all as Knax walks in solemn silence next to my exhausted, stumbling steps.

The climb is tiring, and far longer than I remember, though perhaps that’s in part due to the weight of the journey this time. Even Hermes barely says a word, aside from the occasional remark about the bland landscape or to warn me of particularly treacherous footing.

At long last, we reach the summit, and not a moment too soon.

“Hazel,” welcomes a new but not entirely unfamiliar voice, as an imposing, barefooted, and bald-headed man comes into view. He wears long, flowing robes of deep purples and reds that almost seem to float around his wrists and ankles, though the air is still. “Hermes, thank you for your help.”

“Hypnos,” Hermes greets, bowing his head once, “it is always a pleasure to serve you.”

I can’t help but stare at the new god. I know I’ve never seen him before, but I can’t seem to shake the feeling that we’ve met. There’s a comfortable, soft presence about him, despite his formidable size.

“Dawn is nearly here,” Hypnos says, his voice like a mother’s lullaby in my ears.

“I brought them. Eros told me to find you.”

“I know. I told him.”

I blink up at him in surprise.

“How—”

“I am the God of Dreams,” he says softly. “I know how to walk them, even the seldom few that make their way into the Underworld. Come, we must place them on the altar.”

My eyes follow as he motions toward a stone altar built on the edge of the mountaintop.

“This is where I woke up,” I whisper, wondering why I hadn’t recognized it right away.

“So I have been told,” the God of Dreams says, my eyes growing heavier at his words. “Forgive me for not being here to greet you.”

“Would that have changed anything?”

He gives me a sorrowful look and shakes his head once.

“No.”

“Then I am happy to have had the chance at all.”

This brings a pleasant smile to his eyes.

“Well said. Come, there is not much time.”

Together, we step toward the altar, and I see that Hermes has managed to lay Eros and Death upon it already. It would almost be funny to see them like this, sleeping so peacefully side by side, if it weren’t so terrifyingly close to being their final resting place.

“Can you save them?”

Hypnos reaches out to place a hand on each of their chests, his midnight eyes opening wider as the air hums faintly around him. He blinks, pulling his hands back.

“No, I cannot,” he answers gently. “But you can.”

“How?”

“It will cost you greatly, mortal.”

I glance from him to the two gods, pale in the early morning light, and then slowly back to Hypnos.

“What is the cost?”

“A choice. One that will change fate, once and for all,” he answers. “But to make it, first, you must dream. Are you ready?”

I nod, and a wind stirs up around me, stray hairs tickling my skin.

“You must speak. Are you ready to dream?”

“I’m ready.”

Hypnos steps forward and places his hand on my head. The next thing I know, the sky, the summit, the altar, everything is gone in a blur of swirling colors, and I am falling.

Not down, but in.