“It’s Hades.”
“And there’s a difference?”
“Yeah. A big one.” He huffs a quiet laugh. “Hell’s just one realm inside Hades. Right now, we’re at the border. This is the River Acheron, where souls cross over.” He nods toward the churning black water. “Charon ferries them to the gates to be judged and sorted: Elysium, Tartarus, or the Fields of Asphodel.” He gives me a wry, lopsided grin. “But don’t worry. You’re not here for that.”
“Oh goodie. Then why am I here?”
He hesitates.
“I’m taking you to the Royal Palace.”
I stare at him. “I’m sorry—the what now?”
“I’ll explain more when we get there,” he says, gently brushing a strand of hair from my face. “Just try to relax. Enjoy the ride.”
I cross my arms and shut my eyes again.
Enjoy the ride? Sure. Just a casual river cruise through the land of the dead on a barge run by a literal skeleton. Totally normal.
After what feels like forever, the ferry finally slows. The sound of the gangplank lowering cuts through the silence like a drawn-out sigh. Hayes nudges my shoulder.
“We’re here.”
I open my eyes—and gasp.
Rising up before us is a castle that looks like it was conjured from some Gothic-soaked fever dream. A fortress carved from obsidian-black stone, its walls shot through with veins of molten copper and liquid platinum that seem to shift and ripple beneath the surface. Towering spires pierce the sky, crowned with sculpted flames of hammered gold. Facets of ruby, emerald, sapphire, and even diamond are set directly into the stone, catching the firelight, making the entire structure glitter like a treasure hoard dragged up from the earth’s core. The place seems to breathe with shadow and fire, an eerie light pulsing from deep within the walls like it’s alive—and watching. Encircling the castle are groves of pomegranate trees, their branches heavy with luminous crimson fruit, each orb faintly pulsing like a heartbeat, casting ghostly light.
It’s all so breathtaking. Opulent and overwhelming. So beautiful it almost hurts to look at, like something taken too far, pushed just past the line of reason into something unreal.
And then there are the Palace gates. They’recolossal in scale, forged from interlocked iron etched with unfamiliar markings like runes. Set into the center above the entrance is a sculpted figure of a three-headed dog, each snarling muzzle bared, ruby eyes glowing as if they’re tracking us. Coiled around the dog’s base is a black serpent, its sleek body wrapped tight, tongue flicking like it’s tasting the air. The image is like a nightmare version of a “Bad Dog, Keep Out” sign, but a thousand times more terrifying.
The formidable gates alone feel like a sufficient warning. Like something terrible might happen if you tried to breach those walls uninvited. Guards should be unnecessary. And yet, they’re here anyway.
Dozens of them stand silent and unyielding before the entrance. They’re clad head-to-toe in black leather armor, each one carrying a spear trimmed with glinting gold. Broad-shouldered. Intimidating. Their faces are expressionless, their stances rigid. They look more like statues than men.
Several guards near the front nod at Hayes as the ferry pulls into the landing square. The vessel shudders to a final stop, chains clanking into place.
Hayes rises and offers me his hand.
“Welcome to the Underworld,” he says. “My home.”
Iwake in the softest bed imaginable, stretching my arms and legs beneath cool, satiny sheets that glide like water over my skin. It feels like I’ve surfaced from a long, strange dream. Disoriented, but not in a bad way.
Somewhere overhead, psychedelic rock drifts in from hidden speakers. The vocals are low and dreamy, the guitar thrumming like a heartbeat.
Wish You Were Here.Pink Floyd.
One of my favorites.
I sit up and glance around. The lighting is dim and hazy; I can’t see much. The fact that I don’t immediately know where I am doesn’t bother me as much as it probably should. I feel safe. Cocooned. Somehow, I know there’s no danger here—unless it’s the danger of getting too comfortable in a bed the size of a small country, listening to one of the best rock bands of all time.
“Mmmm.” I sigh, burrowing deeper into the sheets. They smell incredible, like my mother’s homemade lavender soap blended with something sweeter I can’t quite place.
A deep, almost unnatural drowsiness settles over me, my eyelids growing heavy as sleep begins to drag me back under again.
“You’re finally awake. Took you long enough.”
My eyes snap back open and I turn. A massive figure towers against the far wall, arms crossed, watching me from the shadows like he’s been there a while. Bright green eyes flick toward mine, cool, amused, and vaguely bored.
