“You willneverbe alone again. I have you, Sebbie. Do you understand me?” he asked again.
“Yes,” I answered.
He wrapped me back up in his arms, and I cried. Soft, sad sounds of grief came from my mouth, and Corbin held me tightly, stroking my back and whispering to me. I was so sad, but I felt like I was letting the grief go. I felt like my tears were washing away something, some sadness I’d held onto for so long.
It felt freeing.
I wasn’t alone. I would never be alone again.
I was dreaming of the river again.
I was standing on the shore, as I so often was now. I looked next to me, and Corbin was standing there, Crow perched on his shoulder. I reached over and took his hand, and he looked at me and smiled.
“I guess we fell asleep,” I said.
Corbin hummed noncommittally, and Crow cawed, tilting her head at me.
“I’m so glad you can be here, too, beautiful girl,” I told her.
She cooed at me and tilted her head again, and I reached over and gave her a scratch. I continued to rub at her neck, gently sliding my fingers against her feathers.
“You like him better than me,” Corbin muttered to Crow. “Not that I blame you. I like him better, too.”
Crow cawed at that—right into Corbin’s ear, which made me laugh out loud. She flew off toward the forest then, landing on a branch at the beginning of a path. I didn’t think the path had been there before, but I noticed it now.
Corbin did as well, and he sighed.
I had that funny swoopy feeling in my stomach again, and I sat down on the ground. Corbin plopped right down next to me, and it made that swoopy feeling a little better.
I wasn’t alone. Not anymore.
But… “I’m missing something, aren’t I?” I asked him.
He took my hands again, answering, “You’ll remember when you’re ready. Or you’ll know when you’re ready. I’m not sure which it is, exactly.”
“You know what I don’t,” I said, suddenly sure that Corbin had a few more pieces of the puzzle than I did.
Corbin nodded. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you what I knew. The man in black told me not to, and I believed him when he said you needed to figure it out on your own. I would never keep anything from you, Sebbie, but this wasn’t really my secret to keep. It’s yours, and I didn’t want to force you to talk about it before you were ready.” Corbin blushed. “I did keep the hellhound thing from you, but to be fair, I sort of forgot you didn’t know. You know here, and here is as real for me as anything else.”
Huh. That made a weird sort of sense. Maybe some part of me did know he was a hellhound, too. Why else would none of it really shock me?
“You being here isn’t my secret,” I said, which kind of didn’t make sense.
“I know it isn’t,” Corbin answered.
I thought about that for a moment. I thought about this place, and the time I’d asked Corbin where we were. A pocket dimension, he’d said. Or part of the underworld. He’d mentioned Styx and Acheron, and although Styx had been familiar at the time, I hadn’t really thought about it. It had sort of skated across my mind. But I knew that name. I knew it from mythology. The River Styx was where dead people crossed over. It was like puzzle pieces sliding into place. My cloak and my staff. My boat. The loved ones on the other side to greet my passengers.
I always dreamed of dead people. I had never, not once, dreamed of someone who was still alive. Aside from Corbin, everyone here was dead.
“How are you here and not dead?” I asked Corbin.
“I’m not sure,” he answered, and then Crow cawed from the trees. Corbin looked at her, tilting his head. “Sneaky daimon,” he said. He turned to me. “Blood. Crow had our blood mix together somehow, and it enabled me to come here. For you to bring me here.”
I stared out across the water. I loved the river. I loved my job. I was never sad about death. It was only a new beginning, after all. Iknewthat. I’d always known it.
“I ferry people across the river,” I said.
“Yes,” Corbin answered.
