“A little ambiance for our celebration.” Claudius says lighting a candle. “Come, take one.” He gestures at the glasses. We each pick them up, confusion and intrigue swirl about on my brother’s faces.
“What celebration?” I ask, toe hitting the outline of the design. Some dust kicks up, then settles with the motion. The candle flickers in front of his face giving his usually kind appearance a menacing quality.
“Long have I searched for souls such as yours.” He takes the candle and lights another one. I notice they’re all set up in a circle. “You all have a hunger about you. A desire to make your worthless lives better. What if I were to tell you that you can have everything you’ve ever wanted for your family?”
“I’d say you are right sauced.” Travis responds, knocking my elbow with his. He’s always been the jokester to break up the tension with his quick wit and easy smile.
Claudius lights the last candle and picks up the last glass. “I can offer you the life you’ve only dreamed about.”
“At what cost?” Beaumont asks, ever the practical thinker.
“What’s it worth to you? What are you willing to do for luxuries far beyond your imagination? A comfortable life for you mother. For whomever you marry, and your descendants?”
“Anything. I’d do anything.” I say truthfully. I’d already proven that I could scrounge and save, working myself to the bone to claw my way out of poverty. The pangs of hunger spurring me on. The weary looks in my brothers’ eyes driving me to wake up every day when all I wanted to do was give into the aches of my body. The sacrifices I’d made to buy that stupid boat that led us here.
My brothers mutter the same as me. “Anything.” Claudius had described us as desperate, and perhaps that was true, for poverty makes the soul yearn for basic necessities. Turning honest men into thieves, and strong bodies into piles of bones.
“In that case, drink with me, and you’ll have it all. For you and your descendants until the end of time.” He raises his glass to his lips, waiting for us to do the same.
“What the hell?” I ask, taking a swig of the drink. It’s sickly sweet and tart on my tongue. I almost spray it out, but my manners force me to swallow it down. I cough as it burns, slithering down my esophagus and settling like a stone in my stomach. My brothers do the same before we all drop to the ground. My body convulses, eyes rolling back into my head.
Cackling echoes off the stone ceiling making it sound as if it’s coming from every direction. My skull smacks against the ground, as my muscles continue to quake around my bones. It feels like it simultaneously lasts forever and for only a moment, before I’m able to stand and stretch out. A feeling of Pride takes hold of my chest.
“Welcome, sins.” He says.
I find my mouth moving on its own accord. “Hello again, Chaos.”
CHAPTER46
Chapter Forty-Six
SALEM
SONG: HELL OR HIGH WATER BY THE RESCUES
“So, this is the infamous River Styx.” I say to the figure dressed in all black. Its skull head tilts as it reaches its bony hand out towards me palm up. “I think it wants the coins.” I say over my shoulder. Emmet pushes his way through the guys standing behind me on the pier. As soon as Emmet presents the coins, the figure snatches them from him, counting it with the tip of his phalange. He hands back eight and keeps the rest. Turning he gestures for us to board.
Emmet holds my hand helping me down into the wooden boat and taking the seat next to me. Walker, Garrison and Pierce squeeze into the middle row. This thing looks like they snatched it from a Viking and shoved it down here. It’s carved with intricate swirls and affixed with a dragon’s head at the front. We barely fit on the small benches, and I try not to think about falling overboard. Just one rogue wave would send us careening into the inky black waters.
We push off from shore, and the figure drags a long wooden paddle through the river’s black waters, directing us across. I spot another pier off in the distance as we drift. It’s almost peaceful. But the skeleton pushing the boat reminds me that we’re not out of danger yet.
“Do you think Skye and all of them are okay?” I ask feeling Walker’s calloused hands on my shoulders. He rubs my tight muscles in soothing circles.
“I hope so. Skye seems to be able to take care of herself.” I nod my head, hoping he’s right. Letting my eyes drift close, I give into the feel of his hands on me and the calming cadence of the boat.
“Wait, where are we going?” Garrison asks, making my eyes fly open. We’re passing the pier and my heart jumps into my throat. I turn to see the skeleton continuing to direct the boat in a straight line, despite needing to get across the river.
“Do not fret, little demigod. Where you’re going, we must travel farther.” His voice is like death. Grating and laced with sadness.
“How do you know where we’re going?” I ask, nerves crawling all over my skin and my stomach clenches with worry.
He doesn’t answer, instead we’re quickly drifting into a large lake. The moment our boat meets the edge, hands and faces begin to shoot out of the water. Their eyes and mouths sewn shut, but with enough give in the thread to allow for their screams to penetrate past their lips. I reel back, making the boat dip.
“They cannot harm you, unless you let them.”
“What the fuck does that even mean?” I lean towards the middle of the boat, not wanting to be close to the edge.
They move out of the way of the boat as we pass. Looking out over the lake, the whole thing writhes with bodies. “Walker, Hecate said she gave you a map. Can you pull it out and see where we’re going?”
