The River Styx Read online

  Hope placed her hands on her hips. “Mind if I ask why?”

  The inquiry seemed to unsettle Daedalus a bit. A sigh escaped his lips. “It’s a long story. One I don’t feel comfortable sharing without her consent.”

  Hope’s hands fell to her sides. “Is it that bad?”

  “This vessel abounds with bad stories, my dear. One after the other.” He chuckled, a sound that resembled an old dog clearing his throat. “By the look of it, I’d say you have quite a story yourself.”

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Please,” he motioned to the bed. “Sit.”

  Feeling at least confident she could outfight him if it came down to it, Hope sat herself down on the bed and watched Daedalus close the door. The old man sat himself down on the straw chair adjacent to the bed. He made himself comfortable before speaking. “You are fortunate we happened to come across you when we did. Though I must give all the credit to Iris. Had she not spotted you, I’m afraid we would have continued on our way and left you to the sea.”

  “Iris?” Hope said.

  “The harpy.” He saw the look of confusion her face. “The one who pulled you from the water.”

  “It's a she?” Hope’s face curled up at the thought of her.

  “Indeed. Harpies can see through most any gloom and Iris has the sharpest eyes of them all. Though I must apologize for her rough-handling. Good eyes she may have, but gentle she is not.”

  “I’ll say.” Hope’s hand went to her arm. She could still recall the sharp tendons digging into her skin.

  “The Asphodel Sea is a dangerous place to be by oneself. Tell me, for what reason were you out there to begin with?”

  “I was…” Hope couldn’t think of anything. “Going someplace.”

  “That much I discerned. But where and with whom?”

  “I…don’t know.”

  “I’m sorry?”

  Hope found her eyes falling to the floor, a surface as smooth and as empty as her mind was right now. “I don’t know,” she repeated.

  “Have you lost your memory?”

  “I don’t think so. I mean, I know my name.”

  “Name?” Daedalus’ eyes flashed. “By the gods! We haven’t even properly introduced ourselves.”

  “But I already know who you are.”

  “Shared words behind closed doors hardly count as an introduction.” Daedalus stood up, back erect, eyes forward, he bowed his head respectively. “I am Daedalus. Servant to the Olympians and Architect of some renown.” He said the last part a bit hesitantly. He seemed humbled just by saying it. “Though I do prefer to keep a low profile, if you understand.”

  “I guess.” Hope didn’t really, but he seemed like a nice guy and she didn’t want to offend him. She did, however, mimic his previous gesture and stood up. “My name is Hope. It's nice to meet you.”

  She bowed her head and when she looked up, Daedalus was eyeing her suspiciously. “What?”

  “Hope?”

  “Uh-huh.” His face was so vacant that Hope looked around the room, wondering if he was addressing somebody else. Looking back she asked, “Is something the matter?”

  “I…no.” Daedalus sat back down. He seemed to be in deep thought. “Forgive me. It’s just that…it is such a pretty name.” Daedalus studied her. After a few tense moments he asked, “Do you have any idea where you are?"

  She shrugged. "A ship?"

  The architect of some renown sat up straight. “Daedalus. Echo. Iris,” he rattled off, “do any of these names mean anything to you?”

  She thought about it and shook her head.

  “I see.”

  “I don’t.” Hope suddenly felt very stupid. “Should I?”

  A cloud overcame Daedalus’ features. “My dear, you are on a ship of the damned, which is bound for the city of Dis. We are to meet with King Hades who has commissioned us personally for a mission of utmost importance.”

  “Dis? Hades?”

  The man’s eyes lit up humorously. “I may as well be speaking to Echo.”

  Hope did not appreciate the jibe. “Can you please tell me who you people are?”

  “Criminals. Offenders. Monsters. We've all been imprisoned in Tartarus for discretions committed against the gods of Olympus.”

  The brunette pulled her legs off the floor and hugged them to her chest. “Are you saying I’m on a ship full of criminals?”

  “As far as Olympus is concerned, yes.”

  Her embrace tightened––as did her throat. “You mean you and Echo...everyone’s a crook?”

  “I wouldn’t say crook.”

  “But you’re bad guys.”

  Daedalus smirked and shook his head. “Hardly. Granted we may have stepped on a few divine toes now and then, but good and bad are merely concepts, subject to whoever it is doing the judging. I’ll have you know that prior to my incarceration, I was very well respected both above and below the Underworld.”

  “Underworld? What are you talking about?”

  “Why,” Daedalus paused. “That’s right.” He stood up and reached for a holster on his hip that she noticed for the first time to pull out…a knife. It was more of a dagger, really, but still glinted in the weak lighting to scare the hell out of Hope. Seeing the dagger and the man approaching her, Hope screamed and scrambled backward. Her back met the wall very quickly.

  “Please! No!”

  Daedalus pricked his own finger. She looked at him, eyes wide and asking for explanation.

  “You see, Hope, I am dead.” He offered his hand to show that no blood, despite the sharp indent on the surface of his skin, had appeared.

  “Keep away from me!”

  Daedalus lowered the dagger and dipped his head in apology. “Forgive the dramatics, my dear, but I was simply trying to make a point, if you'll excuse the pun. The dead do not bleed for they no longer possess the life-giving essence of blood. What you see before you is a husk, or a shell of a human body, in which my soul will inhabit for the remainder of this voyage."

  “What does that have to do with me?” Hope had yet to come away from the wall.

  “It means that you are still among the living.” Daedalus put the dagger back in its holster and went to sit back on the straw chair. “While we were tending you, Echo noticed a hint of blood in your mouth. Most likely Iris’ doing when she dropped you onto the deck. Echo is like me, you see. She is a soul inhabiting a husk for the purposes of traveling to the mortal world." Seeing she did not understand, or maybe using too many big words, Daedalus spoke plainly. "She is also dead."

  “Dead how?” Hope was just talking to her. “Are you telling me I’m on a ship full of ghouls?!”

  “Hardly. Though most of the crew are dead, they are not undead.”

  “What’s the difference?”

  “Quite a bit, actually. The undead have never been born. They never felt the sun on their faces, nor knew what it was like to have a heart. The dead are those who were alive, but have since passed on into the afterlife. You are unique in that you are neither.”

  Hope was shaking her head. “You’re not making any sense! Dead! Undead! Husks! Hades!" She blurted out, "Just where the hell am I?”

  “You just answered your question.” Daedalus became very serious. “This is the land of the dead, Hope. Call it Hell, if you wish.” He leaned closer. “That ocean we found you in? That is the Asphodel Sea. It spans the whole breadth of the Underworld.”

  It still didn't make any sense. “But how can I be in the Underworld if I’m not dead?”

  “The living have ventured into the Underworld many times. Most never return, however.”

  “Then how did I get here?”

  “Only you know that. Do you not remember anything? What ship you were on or what port you were making for?"

  “I don’t know. I-I can’t remember. Maybe I…ugh!” Hope jumped off the bed. She made for the bare wall at the back of the room and just stood there, leaning against it as the room moved one way and ano
ther.

  “Sometimes,” Daedalus went on. “Sometimes the living have no recollection of their past lives. They haven’t lost their memories. Rather, they’ve lost access to them. Perhaps in time you will be able to recall the events that have led you here.”

  “I don't belong here.”

  “We all belong where we belong. Fate has a purpose for us all.” He reclined in his chair. “Consider this: what are the chances we’d find you and rescue you before you were taken by the sea? Quite low I’d wager, though I’m not a betting man. What I mean is, you are here because you are meant to be here.”

  Hope shook her head.

  "Is there something wrong?” Concern entered Daedalus' voice.

  “I’m not a criminal. I’ve never hurt anyone.”

  “Are you sure? Have those memories returned all of a sudden?”

  She glared at him. “Look at me. Do I look like a criminal?”

  “Do I?” Daedalus countered. “Did Echo?”

  Hope sighed in frustration. “Okay, Architect of some renown. Maybe you can tell me this. You said that not everyone on this ship was dead. So is there someone else like me? Someone alive?"

  His response was immediate. “We have an immortal.”

  Hope shrugged. “An immortal?”

  “Are you sure Echo is not your sister?”

  Hope growled.

  Daedalus held up his hand, fighting a smile that threatened to crease his face. “Forgive me. Yes, our Captain is an immortal.”

  “And this Captain is not dead or undead because…” Hope gestured with her hands in a taking motion.

  “They are the ones who came before us. They are the undying. The eternal...” Though he tried to sound reverent, something in the old man's voice sounded cynical, like he was repeating a rhetoric he did not believe in. "Or so it is said."

  “So he’s a god?”

  He shook his head. “Not really.”

  "Then what?”

  “He serves King Hades and has been traversing the Asphodel Sea since before you or I were ever born. His name is Charon and he was responsible for ferrying the souls of the recently deceased to their final resting place.”

  “So this guy,”

  “Charon.”

  “Karen,” she repeated.

  “Charon,” Daedalus emphasized.

  “Charon. Okay. Why is he the captain?”

  “Who better to command this ship than the greatest sailor to have ever existed?” Daedalus took a moment to massage the bridge of his long nose. “Charon knows these waters better than anyone."

  “Was he one of the people I saw on deck?”

  Daedalus chuckled, bringing a scowl to Hope’s face.

  “Apologies. But even with your foggy memory, I would expect you to be able to tell a man of Charon’s stature from an ordinary crewman.”

  “I remember seeing a giant with a bald head.”

  “Prometheus,” Daedalus clarified for her benefit.

  Hope moved to stand in front of Daedalus. “So if he knows this ocean so well, then maybe he knows the way back to the land of the living. Think maybe I can...”

  “No.”

  Hope blinked.

  “You cannot speak to him.”

  “Why not?”

  Daedalus stood up. He was taller than Hope by about two heads and thrice her width. “The good Captain prefers to keep to himself at all times, which is better for all of us, I suppose.” He stretched out his neck muscles. “You do seem much better, if I may say so. Would you like a tour of the ship? It will also give you a chance to stretch your legs given that you've been in this room for a day.”

  A whole day? Had she been out for that long?

  Daedalus was moving for the door before she could answer.

  "Is it safe?" She took two hesitant steps after him. "I mean, the people on this ship are supposed to be bad, aren't they?"

  Pausing by the door, Daedalus glanced over his shoulder and said, "I'll let you be the judge of that. Come. There is much to show you."

  Two

  The ship was called The River Styx and it bucked incessantly on the waves of the Asphodel Sea. The crew quarters were located at the back along a narrow hallway with a short flight of stairs leading up to the deck. Daedalus' room was located just two doors down from Hope's and between them, he explained, was Echo's room.

  In his tour, Daedalus showed Hope the mess hall where the crew took their meals, the storage room where they kept their supplies, and the brig, which was a sort of jail. The brig was located below the crew quarters and was nothing more than a tiny box with a barred door. Hope could not imagine why they would need that until she reminded herself that she was on a ship full of criminals.

  Roughly half the ship constituted of the hold. This was where the giant, Prometheus, rowed the ship's oars whenever the wind wasn't kind enough to fill the main sail. Like a one-man rowing team, Prometheus possessed the strength of fifty men, maybe more. His huge body bulged as he rowed the oars, ten to each side, which were connected via chains and pulleys to the master handles. This system, designed by Daedalus, allowed Prometheus to row the whole ship by himself. Seated at the hold's center beneath a gated portal that allowed ventilation into the wide but stuffy room, Prometheus was like an engine; his arms, shoulders, legs, and back working in furious tandem. Hope cowered before him even though the giant didn't so much as blink in her direction.

  Having Daedalus lead her away, they'd left the hold, proceeding back to the stairway would take them up to the deck. They arrived just as the wind started to kick up. Lucky for Hope that Echo had provided her a cloak for protection against the elements—a fact of which she was grateful as she pulled the collar tight around her neck to keep warm. Echo had also been kind enough to provide a pair of sturdy sandals made of straps that coiled around Hope's feet and ankles like leather serpents. They were both comfortable and sturdy, a fact made all the more surprising given that they were her exact size.

  The once calm currents were angry, hurling themselves against the ship’s side as if attempting to remove an unwanted guest. Hope had to steady herself when the vessel lurched sharply. Daedalus was there to offer her support and she was surprised at how steady and strong the old man’s grip was. So far he was the only kind face she had seen on this ship, which is why she did not protest when he put an arm around her shoulder and escorted her across the deck.

  A few heads turned at the peculiar sight.

  “Pay them no mind,” Daedalus cautioned her. “Seafarers are a superstitious lot.”

  “And with good reason,” a nasally voice said.

  Hope recognized it as belonging to the one who had looked her over before having her delivered to Daedalus. The man approached them with long strides. He carried himself with an air of arrogance, his head high, and his chin thrust outward. Judging by the way Daedalus’ features hardened at his approach, she surmised that the two did not get along.

  The man wore a black toga and cloak, the hood pulled back to reveal a long face that looked like it had been squished between a pair of powerful hands. He had round, well-proportioned ears and a single, thick eyebrow running across his head. His eyes were small, even smaller when he narrowed them their way, but Hope could make out a shade of hazel in those orbs.

  He stopped a few feet short of them and placed his hands on his hips. He was taller than Hope and shorter than Daedalus, but acted as if he fancied himself the tallest man on the ship. His dark hair was well-trimmed and formatted his thin head perfectly.

  “One can’t be too careful at sea. It never offers up its bounties willingly or easily.” He crossed his arms, glaring at Hope. “Were it not that we were in a hurry, I would have had the girl thrown back in where we found her.”

  “Pardon my pointing out the obvious, Sisyphus, but were you not the one who had her sent to me so that I may tend to her wounds?”

  “I was.” Sisyphus stuck his chin out even further.

  “Then why go through the trouble? Why not
have Iris throw her back? Or, why not allow the harpy to devour the girl like she wanted?”

  Hope parted from Daedalus so fast one would think he’d just burst into flames. “What?!”

  The two men ignored her. Sisyphus continued. He was adamant on winning the conversation. “Maybe you forgot your manners, but a nobleman always offers aid to those in need.”

  “You are no nobleman, Sisyphus. Far from it."

  “Not in blood, perhaps, but in my living days my generosity was known throughout the Aegean.”

  “A generosity equally famous for benefitting you over others.”

  Sisyphus became flustered. “I am self-reliant. Nothing more.”

  “You are an opportunist. You are the worst kind of person to bring on a mission like this.” Daedalus shook his head solemnly. “The worse”

  “Hmph!” Sisyphus looked at Hope and pointed. “You there! Girl!” As if there was any other in the vicinity. “What is your name?”

  “Hope.”

  “Hope? What sort of name is that?” He chuckled as if it were the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard.

  Hope's face flustered, growing a beat red.

  “Let me see," he scrutinized her. "Those wide eyes and round face, you have the look of a satyr about you.” Sisyphus began to walk around them, rubbing his chin in a manner of deep thought. "You do know what a satyr is, don't you? Those filthy little goat people that wallow about in the woods like un-bathed children? Horrid creatures, really." By then he'd done a complete circuit of Hope and was looking at her directly. The wind batted about his dark robe. He was remarkably skinny and Hope wondered how he had not been blown clear off the deck by now. "You are a funny-looking goat."

  “Grow a beard on that chin and I can say the same thing about you,” Hope shot back.

  “What?!”

  Daedalus chuckled, loudly. “Come along, Hope.” Then at Sisyphus he added, “Keep in mind, Sisyphus, that you are only second in command because no one else wanted the position.” Taking Hope around the shoulder, the architect guided her away.

  Hope watched Sisyphus over her shoulder. He was still glaring at them when she looked back. “What’s his problem?”

  “Sisyphus?” Daedalus scoffed as if the name meant nothing. “He thinks too highly of himself. He believes he is the most gifted individual in the universe."