She stepped past him into the tunnel. Chest tight, the connection he’d felt to her from the first flaring hot beneath his skin, he followed. He paused and looked back when the rocks scraped again behind them, then slammed shut with a clank, sealing them inside.
Skyla’s surprised gaze shot to his face. “Guess there’s no turning back now.”
No, there wasn’t, was there?
Dread pooled in his stomach as he flipped on his light to shine down the corridor. Nothing but ragged stone walls, a dirt floor, and darkness beckoned.
That and doom. A hell of a lot of doom.
Chapter 20
Skyla’s boots crunched over rocks as they made their way down the passageway. The flashlights illuminated the stone walls around them, the boulders and stalactites hanging from the low ceiling. Twice they had to maneuver around small pools of murky water as the tunnel continued its downward trek. The skeletal remains Orpheus flashed his light over were the third they’d passed since entering the corridor.
“Human?” he asked.
Skyla pushed up from her knees, where she’d been crouched. A leather satchel, work boots, a miner’s cap with a burned-out light. “That’d be my guess. Archaeologist probably.”
“Dumb shit,” Orpheus muttered. “Had no idea what he’d found.”
“Like the others.”
He took the lead again. They walked a good fifteen minutes, the sounds of their boots tapping rocks and their steady breaths the only noises in the eerie tunnel. Just when she was sure they were going to continue into darkness forever, the tunnel opened up and the sound of water running echoed from ahead.
Neither spoke as they approached the water. Skyla shined her light up and around. The tunnel spilled out into a massive cavern, the ceiling so high it couldn’t be seen. Black rocks edged a river of red, which twisted and turned and disappeared into darkness. Far off in the distance a dim light shone.
Orpheus slid the pack from his shoulder, opened the zippered pouch, and pulled out two coins. He handed one to Skyla. She looked down at the ancient obolos. Again surprised by the daemon at her side. “I hope you have a few more of these so we can get back across when we’re done.”
He hefted the pack over his shoulder. “No, but I’ve got a plan for that.”
As the light grew closer and the ferry boat approached, Skyla’s pulse picked up speed.
She was a Siren. When a Siren died, they were supposed to go to the Isles of the Blessed, not Tartarus. But what guarantee did she have that actually happened?
You’ve been doing Zeus’s dirty work all these years. Why wouldn’t you end up here too?
She nixed the thought as the ferry drew close and bumped into the blackened rocks that made up the shore. Charon, the mysterious ferryman, stood at the back of the small boat with his hands on a long wooden pole. Behind him, a lantern hung from a hook. He wasn’t aged, as Skyla had expected. Dark hair with just a touch of gray, a lean body, long face and bright, knowing blue-gray eyes. Without a word he held out his left hand. Orpheus dropped his coin into Charon’s palm. Skyla followed suit. Charon motioned for them to step on board.
Skyla drew in a breath. As Orpheus gripped her arm and helped her on board, a shot of warmth rushed over her skin. Charon said nothing as he dropped the coins into a pile on the boat’s floorboards behind him, then used the long wooden pole to push them away from the shore. They began floating downstream in silence.
Darkness seemed to ebb and flow, and on the horizon a strange gray light grew. Skyla’s spine tingled as she looked over her shoulder to find Charon staring at them with his intense eyes. She faced forward again, leaned close to Orpheus. “Friendly, isn’t he?”
He eased down toward her so they couldn’t be heard, and the musky scent of his skin filled her senses. “Something tells me it’s better for us if he doesn’t get chatty.”
Skyla nodded, refocused ahead. The gray sky grew lighter until their surroundings were awash in the eerie, colorless light pushing out the darkness. Black rocks fanned out on both sides of the river, a desolate barren wasteland as far as the eye could see. Ahead, a dock fifty yards away beckoned.
The ferry bumped the end of the dock and came to a stop. Orpheus helped Skyla out of the boat again, and without another word Charon pushed off, turned the boat against the current, and headed back the way they’d come.
“So what was the plan about the extra coins?” Skyla asked as she watched the boat grow smaller and smaller in the distance.
“Hold this.” Orpheus handed her his pack. And before she could ask why, he disappeared.
Startled, Skyla looked around, wondered where he’d gone. Then she saw him reappear on the ferry just behind Charon. He scooped up a handful of coins then disappeared again as if he’d never been there. Seconds later, he was standing next to Skyla.
He reached for her hand. “Put a couple in your pocket, just in case.”
In case of what? she wanted to ask, but didn’t. He stuffed a few coins in his pocket then dumped the rest in his pack.
“You don’t think he’ll miss them?”
“Let’s hope not. Come on.” He turned toward land, tugged on her sleeve. She followed him off the dock and up the slight rise of blackened rocks. At the top of the ridge, they both paused and took in the view.
“Holy gods,” Skyla muttered.
Miles and miles of gray, billowing fields. Souls wandering as if they were lost. A feeling of desolation floating on the wind. And far off in the distance, black jagged mountains that rose out of nothing and melded with an orange-red sky.
“The Fields of Asphodel,” Orpheus said. “Better than I expected, really.”
“What were you expecting?”
“A lot more trouble before we reached this point.”
So had she.
They headed down. A snarl to their left stopped Skyla’s feet. She turned to look just as an enormous doglike beast with three heads emerged from behind a cluster of blackened rocks.
“Now this is more like what I was expecting,” Orpheus muttered, reaching for the blade he’d strapped to his back.
Skyla placed a hand on his forearm before he could draw the weapon. “Just wait.”
“Wait? Are you mad? That thing looks hungry. And not docile like Charon.”
“If you kill Cerberus, you’re going to draw all kinds of trouble we don’t need.” Skyla handed him her pack. “Trust me. This is why you brought me along.”
She took a step toward the beast. Knew Orpheus was watching her with a what the hell do you think you’re doing? look on his face. All three of Cerberus’s heads growled an ominous warning.
“Skyla,” Orpheus warned. “Wait.”
She stopped three feet from the beast. His rancid breath washed over her. His fangs dripped something vile she didn’t want to think about. When he growled again and bared those rows of sharp teeth, she opened her mouth and began to sing.
A couple of bars of the Brahms lullaby and the monster closed its massive mouths, curled up on the ground, and went to sleep. In the silence that followed, Skyla turned to Orpheus and grinned.
“What the hell was that?”
“Shh,” she whispered, taking the pack from him and slinging it over her shoulders. “We don’t want to wake him.” She led Orpheus down the hill away from the sleeping beast. When they were far enough away she said, “That, daemon, was music.”
“I know what music is,” he snapped. “Where did it come from?”
“Come on, Orpheus. You know the stories. I’m a Siren.” She drew the word out for effect. “Before we worked for Zeus we came from somewhere, right? Hot body, pretty voice, used to lure sailors in to meet their doom. Ring any bells?”
“Hits a little close to home,” he muttered with a frown as he followed her down the incline. “All you Sirens can sing?”
She gripped both straps of her backpack as she stepped from stone to waist-high gray wheat. “Yep.”
“So why didn’t you use that little charm on those hellhounds back in Montana?”
“Works better one-on-one. If things had gotten dire, I would have tried it though.”
His scowl deepened. And for reasons she didn’t understand, the expression made her laugh. “You’re mad because I charmed our way out of trouble?”
“I’m not mad. I just don’t like surprises. Next time tell me what you have up your sleeve before you go walking up to some monster who looks like he hasn’t eaten in three months.”
And that’s when it hit her. He wasn’t upset she’d gotten them past Cerberus. He’d been worried she’d get hurt.
Her feet came to a stop. He moved past her. She watched the way the muscles in his shoulders and legs flexed as he moved. And warmth spread through her belly and up into her chest to encircle her heart.
He glanced over his shoulder. “What?”
Her heart picked up speed. A soft thump that quickly grew until it was pounding against her ribs. Pounding with the knowledge that she’d fallen for this daemon. Fallen hard, regardless of her job and his goal and the thousands of years of history separating his two lives.
“Skyla? Are you okay?”
His voice snapped her back to reality. The reality that they were in the Fields of Asphodel. In the Underworld. Marching for Tartarus.
“I’m fine,” she said, picking up her pace and reaching his side. “Let’s keep going.”
But she wasn’t fine. Not really. She was in love. She knew that now without a doubt. And judging by who and what she was, something told her this love would be the end of her.