The River Styx

  The River Styx

  David Revilla

  Acknowledgements

  More than twenty years ago, I started writing stories on loose-leaf paper with a pencil. Publishing my first work electronically would seem like something out of a science-fiction novel to the younger me. All I can say is that it’s been a long time coming…longer still considering that I hope to have a print copy of my novel published someday.

  I want to thank Barry Curry for coming up with a great book cover. Thank you, Barry, for putting up with all my minor changes and for being prompt in your responses. Also, a shout out to Steven Montano for directing me to you in the first place.

  I also want to thank K.N. Lee for being supportive and answering any seemingly obvious questions I had on Facebook. Believe it or not, Kendra, you were a big help and I hope to discuss story ideas with you over coffee one day.

  Also, to all my underground writer friends, you know who you are. We shared stories, plots, character developments, and criticisms like we were lifelong friends. The time I spent writing with you guys has been one of the best experiences of my life. I encourage you to keep writing and never give up on your endeavors.

  Dad, you’ve shown me the key to success is through a good education and a lot of hard work. Guess what? They both paid out.

  And Mom, what else can I say but thank you for believing in me and always supporting my dreams. All I am today, I am because of you.

  © 2014 David Revilla

  All rights reserved.

  Cover by Barry Curry

  This is a work of fiction. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the author.

  The River Styx

  One

  The storm had taken everything from her.

  Hope was alive, but at what cost? She was floating aimlessly on a tranquil sea, her battered body shaking on the wreckage of what had once been part of a ship. She was cold, shivering. Huddled as she was, Hope resembled a soggy ball with shoulder-length chestnut-brown hair. She hugged her knees to her chest, trying to keep warm. Hypothermia was beginning to set in and Hope had lost feeling beneath her shins. She’d lost her shoes during the storm and had not been able to move her feet since.

  She would die here, she knew. It wouldn’t be long now. She just wondered why is it she had survived when no one else did. Why live just to die later? She would have preferred to die with those she cared about rather than alone. Out here she had no one to comfort her. There was no one to offer kind words or rub her trembling shoulders to keep her warm.

  The wreckage she was on was long enough for her to lay out flat on her back, which is how Hope had woken up. She could not remember much about the events that preceded her awakening, only that it was full of thunder, wind, and a terrible noise. Hope remembered the water consuming her. She recalled how the darkness stole every sensible thought from her mind, leaving a terrified husk of a girl in her death throes. When she came to, her body ached all over and she was still alive. Not that it mattered much now.

  It was remarkably quiet. The sea was lifeless. The blue-black water was still and silent, a distant gray ceiling blotting out anything resembling a celestial body. The dawn, if it could be called that, was barely warm enough to sooth her freezing body. How long she’d been drifting she could not say. Minutes? Hours? Days? It didn’t matter. All that mattered was what to do with the time allotted. For Hope, who was shaking so hard it proved difficult to think, she could only count the heartbeats until she finally succumbed to the end.

  A voice carried on the wind. At first she thought it a trick until she recalled there had been no wind not a moment before. Sound is carried by air, so when another voice followed the first, and then a third, Hope lifted her gaze from her knocking knees and peered pass by the wet strands of hair to see…a ship?

  While still far away, the fourteen-year old girl could make out an elongated construct with a single row of oars protruding from its side. The oars propelled the ship across the surface of the water, moving at a steady but determined pace. The ship was long, well over forty feet in length if her eyes could still discern size from this distance. A single mast shot up from the middle like a great tree, its main sail down as there was no wind to carry it. Along the deck, Hope spotted several moving dots––people most likely––two of which seemed to be arguing by their tones. A third joined in and soon the disagreement became a full-on confrontation.

  Hope could hear threats and obscenities being hurled between them and one of the figures seemed to attack the other. Her ears couldn’t make out the details, but by the sound of it one of the voices was female by the more melodic tone. Somebody screamed, and that’s when Hope raised her head up high. She hadn't been hallucinating. It was a ship! Her rescue! She had to get their attention.

  Hope’s voice was nearly gone. The only thing she managed, with some effort, to get out was a gurgled cough. The exertion to speak caused a coughing fit that pushed the final remnants of water out of her lungs. Hope fell to her side, knocking the side of her head against the surface of the wreckage. It wasn’t a strong collision, but in her weakened state it felt like a sledgehammer had just connected with her temple. Hope was on the verge of blacking out and only the sounds of conflicting voices reminded her of why she was trying to remain awake.

  It would be so cruel if the ship passed her by without seeing her. Like dangling water in the reach of a thirsty man only to pull it away at the last second, it was a temptation Hope could not ignore. She tried to speak again, drips of water falling from her clenched teeth as her jaw tried to remember how to talk. She did manage a less than convincing gasp before she began to cough again.

  Meanwhile, the ship, or galley as it was, continued passing her by.

  “H-Help…me…” she mouthed though no sound came out. If she’d the strength, Hope would have tried to swim, but judging from the ship’s speed and the length of distance between them, it would have been long gone by the time she reached its wake. She couldn’t swim. She couldn’t call out. She couldn’t even laugh at the absurdity of her situation. In all the tales she’d heard about the sea, none could come close to her irony. She survived a sinking ship only to watch her one chance at rescue sail her by.

  There was another scream, of whom she could not tell—nor care for at this point—when there came such a bellow from the ship that Hope felt it even from her distance. The dueling voices fell silent and the oars on the vessel came to a complete stop; their ends rose to a resting position just a few feet above the water. Someone started complaining, a whiny voice that carried a pampered tenor, when a second bellow overpowered it completely.

  Hope focused her eyes. Through her haze, like looking through glass on a rainy day, she could make out someone really tall and really big standing up. It seemed to rise out of the vessel, a giant of a man whose muscles glinted even from afar. He was a hairless man with mud-brown skin, and when he growled the others held their tongue. All but one. This one, the woman it seemed, pointed something shiny at the giant who stood undaunted by her threatening gesture. She momentarily turned back to the man she had been arguing with, pointing the object his way before turning back on the giant, her tone no less adamant about making her point.

  The giant crossed his great arms. Hope could have sworn she saw his eyes glow, but he could have had antlers and sprouted wings for all she cared. What mattered was that the ship had stopped. This was her chance. With desperation pumping strength into her flimsy arms, Hope forced herself into a sitting position. The wreckage shook as she righted herself. Raising her arm as high as she could, the girl began waving frantically. Her voice was lost to her, but if one of them was looking her way then they might glim
pse a brown-haired girl vying desperately for their attention.

  Hope sighed. There was no way they were going to notice her with all that ruckus. Please…please look this way!

  Wishes were answered in so many ways. Her vision had cleared enough to notice that a great shadow had fallen on her. At first thinking it a cloud, Hope noticed first the strange shape of the shadow: a pair of long wings that were rapidly descending on her position. Looking up, Hope saw a vaguely bird-like thing moving toward her, its black form filling the sky. What she also saw, dim-lighting or not, were the talons extended to their fullest.

  Hope screamed—or tried too—survival instinct causing her body to lurch out of the way. She lost her balance and tumbled into the water just as the bird-thing landed onto the wreckage. With her feet still numb, she could not kick properly. Hope wagged her arms as hard as she could, which only served to create a blanket of foam around her. Something reached for her from above the surface. She need not look to know that it was the giant bird, and Hope instinctively retracted her hands. She wasn’t fast enough and felt a powerful claw clamp onto her wrist. Hope was yanked out of the water like a fish at the end of a hook.

  Her voice finally returned to her and she screamed as the bird pulled her into the air. Her arm groaned as the full weight of her body, not to mention her wet clothes, pulled. The bone strained and Hope wondered when it would pop. The creature carrying her did not seem to care for her discomfort. She tried looking up, but all she could make out from all the turbulence was a pair of leathery black wings.

  The galley came closer and it wasn’t long before they entered a sharp descent. Hope heard a chorus of gasps, none greater than her own, when she came crashing down onto the hard, wooden deck of the ship and felt the air leap from her lungs. She rolled over in great pain, grateful at least that her breasts had not fully developed to the point where such an impact would have really hurt. With her body completely numb, Hope had gone still. She heard the cackling of some wicked creature that thumped to the ground just above her head. A vaguely canine face with sharp teeth, yet still resembling a human head, leered into view.

  “Found this fish in the water.” The voice sounded horrible, like a strangling bird trying to squawk. Hope regarded the others who had formed a close circle around her. “Should I toss it back, or save it for supper?”

  Hope wondered if she was better off at sea.

  “What is it?” Asked a whiny voice.

  “It’s a girl,” answered the other male.

  “Nothing escapes you,” said the female.

  “Move aside.” Strong steps approached the rim of Hope’s waning field of vision. The man’s features were blurry to her eyes but as he leaned in to examine her, Hope could make out a thin chin attached to a long face. He looked to the bird. “Where did you find her?”

  “Out there,” the bird told him, “in the water.”

  “No others?”

  She imagined she saw the bird shake its head.

  The man turned back to Hope. “Been through the ringer, this one.” His voice was nasally but cultured. “Better have the captain take a look at her. Wait!” He held up a hand even though none of the others showed any signs of following his orders.” He stood up. “Take her to Daedalus. Have him clean her up first.”

  That's the last thing Hope heard before darkness consumed her vision.

  ~

  When she awoke the second time, Hope was warm, healed, and in bed. Her strength returning to her with each passing breath, she sat up only to realize that her clothing was gone. She pulled the heavy, woolen blanket over her in an attempt to cocoon her shame. As if being unceremoniously dropped on the deck of a wooden ship wasn’t embarrassing enough, here she was in someone else’s bed without any clothes. It was enough to turn her skin red.

  Pushing her brown locks out of her face and wishing she could do the same with reddening pigments on her cheeks, Hope took a look around. The room was small and had a wooden table with a straw chair beside it. There was a lantern hanging on the wall opposite the bed, lolling in whichever direction the ship was at the moment. Hope noticed, with a growing suspicion, that the room seemed rather cold despite her being covered by the heavy blanket.

  It wasn’t so much the cold, but something else, something she could not quite put her finger on. It was probably due to the fact that she was naked on a ship full of strangers. Waking up in unfamiliar circumstances, it was natural to be permeated by a growing sense of uneasiness. Hope didn’t want to be here anymore than she wanted to be floating on the ocean…especially with an ugly bird monster asking questions like, “Should I toss it back, or save it for supper?”

  There was a noise at the door, forcing her to take cover. Hope pulled the blanket above her head, praying that whoever it was outside was not the bird. It could have been that Daedalus person the thin-faced guy had mentioned, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to see him either. Hope heard the door open, followed by the patter of soft footsteps.

  She dared a peek, her mop of unkempt hair shadowed by a pair of wide, chocolate-brown eyes.

  The new girl had stunning dark hair that cascaded down her back like a blue-black waterfall. Her form was thin but shapely, a hindsight better than Hope’s still developing body. Still, there was nothing voluptuous about her. She was just pretty—very pretty. Her skin had an olive complexion and in the orange hue of the room, the girl seemed to be ethereal, like she wasn’t really there. Hope noticed how subtle her movements were. She seemed to glide over to the table where she placed an article of clothing before turning to one side. Her face was angular in shape, with a well-formed nose that pointed out between a pair of bubbly cheeks. She was a little older than Hope, perhaps sixteen or seventeen years of age, and with large, oval eyes the color of honey.

  Noticing Hope noticing her, the girl turned. She was wearing a long, bluish clothe that looked like some sort of toga for all the brunette could discern. A brown, leather belt coiled around her waist and the toga fell just above her sandaled feet.

  Shyly, Hope poked her head out far enough for her mouth to appear. “Um…hi.”

  “Hi,” the girl said back. She seemed shy.

  “My name is Hope.”

  “My name is Hope.”

  Hope’s eyes widened. “You’re named Hope too?”

  “Hope too?”

  She blinked. “Are you okay?’

  “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” Hope began. “Except with the whole being naked part. Are those clothes for me?”

  “Those clothes for me?” the girl regarded the clothing she had just put on the table and then back to her.

  “So they’re not for me?”

  “Not for me?”

  “Are you just repeating everything I say?”

  “Everything I say?” Hope noticed the upward infliction at the end of her sentences, indicating that while the exotic girl may not repeat the entire question, she was indeed mimicking her.

  She eyed the girl suspiciously. “What’s your name?”

  “Your name?”

  “Okay.” Hope wasn’t going through with this. “Maybe you should go now so I can get dressed.”

  “Get dressed.” Surprisingly, those last words sounded more like a statement than an impersonation. Hope waited until the girl had left and closed the door behind her before shedding the blanket. She wasted no time in donning the clothing the strange girl left for her. It constituted of a brown toga similar to the girl’s, only Hope's was minus one shoulder. Hope tied the black leather belt around her waist. It was a little big and she had to double-loop it so that it would hold the fabric close to her skin. The attire came complete with a sandy-brown cloak that Hope saved for last.

  A knock came just as she was sitting down on the bed and putting on her sandals.

  “Almost done.” She had expected the girl to have returned. The voice that answered her, however, was not female.

  “Take your time.” It was older, deeper.

&nbsp
; Hope stood up. “Who is it?”

  “My name is Daedalus. I am responsible for your wellbeing.”

  Daedalus? That's the name that thin-faced man had mentioned. “Are you a doctor?”

  “Of a sort.” There was a pause. “Are you feeling better?”

  “I guess so.”

  “Splendid. May I come in?”

  The door was the only way in or out of the room. Hope stepped back to give herself space in case she needed to make a run for it. “Sure.”

  The door opened, revealing a withered but proud man seemingly in his late sixties. He had a balding head with a curtain of grey-white hair around the sides and back. His nose was very pointy, like a beak no less, and he had a well-trimmed beard around his chin. Large, scrutinizing eyes, a remarkable sky-blue, peered out from behind bushy eyebrows. They were intelligent eyes, analytical. He walked up straight and with resolution. Despite his age, the man did not slump or drag his feet. If fact, in the red robes he wore with a yellow trimming around the cuffs, edges and collar, he seemed regal, like a man born of royalty.

  Daedalus, studied Hope from the entrance. He seemed to be sizing her up, which made Hope feel very self-conscious. That’s when it hit her. “Did you…take my clothes?” Hope covered her shoulders. The thought of a stranger, let alone an old man, tending her while she was unconscious—and naked—was disturbing to say the least.

  The old man shook his head in two quick turns. “That was Echo’s doing, my dear. When they brought you to me, you were passed out and in a very bad way, if you don’t mind my bluntness. Echo assisted me in tending to you. I provided the salves that healed your wounds, though it was she who applied them—after she stripped you, of course. While you healed, I had her prepare this room and see to it you were provided a change of clothes. I fear your old attire was beyond saving.”

  “Echo. That’s the girl who keeps repeating everything I say?”

  “Indeed.”