the barge came to a halt,
crunching against the pebbles of the shoreline. “So he is real.”
“ Indeed,” I murmured. “Are you ready to cross, Gwendolyn? Few
of the living ever have.”
“ I’m ready,” she assured me. “I’ve got this.”
She dug around in her bag for a moment and then seemed to find what she was
looking for. Stepping forward, she tried to hand something to the
skeletal ferryman.
Charon simply
shook his head.
“ What?” Gwendolyn frowned. “What’s wrong? Why won’t he take it?” She
held out her hand and I saw an antique silver piece in her small
palm.
“ You are not dead,” I explained. “Only the souls of the dead
must pay for passage across the Styx. A living human may pass for
free—as long as you are accompanied by a denizen of the
realm.”
“ Oh, all right.” She shrugged. “Should we bring the horse
aboard first—what’s his name, anyway? Did your, uh, friend
say?”
“ This is the same steed Yerx rode through the campaigns we
fought together,” I said. “As I recall, his name is Kurex.”
“ Kurex, hmm? I like it.” Gwendolyn turned to the horse. “Here,
boy. Here, Kurex.”
At the sound
of his name the massive horse nodded his head and snorted. He
trotted over to the little witch and nuzzled just behind her ear
with his nose, blowing gently.
“ Good boy.” Gwendolyn stroked the arching black neck again and
I couldn’t help feeling jealous. Why was it so easy for her to
trust anyone and anything but me?
“ Give his reins to Charon,” I instructed her. “He will lead
Kurex aboard the ferry.”
“ And he’ll be okay?” She looked at me anxiously.
I nodded. “He will.
He is used to traversing this river.”
“ All right then, good.” Reaching up, she caught the black
leather reins as though she’d been doing it for years and led the
horse closer to the ferry. This time when she held out her hand,
Charon reached for what she was handing him. I noticed that
Gwendolyn was careful not to touch his skeletal fingers as she gave
him the reins.
Kurex was
loaded onto the flat barge-like ferry in short order and the only
thing that remained was for Gwendolyn and myself to climb aboard.
It seemed a simple thing and yet I knew it would be a problem. I
considered warning my little witch of what was to come, but then I
thought better of it. She would have to learn on her own or she
would never believe me.
Gwendolyn was about to find out exactly what was required in order to
pass from one circle of Hell to the next and I was certain it would
not make her happy.
* * * * *
Gwendolyn
I
know it sounds crazy considering my childhood trauma, but I was
really getting fond of the elephant-sized horse. Maybe I just have
a soft spot for animals but the way he nuzzled me with his nose and
begged for more apples just melted me. I was a little worried he
might nip my fingers with that huge mouth of his but he had been extremely
careful, delicately lipping the huge apples Laish conjured for me
out of my palm and crunching them with messy delight. And for my
part, I found I really enjoyed feeding him.
I had never
thought I would like a horse after my broken-collarbone incident
but it occurred to me that maybe I had been too quick to judge. I
was genuinely glad when Laish said we could take the big guy with
us and not just because riding beat hoofing it—no pun
intended—through Hell by a long shot. I still had the problem of
the way the saddle rubbed me in the wrong (right?) way, but I would
learn to deal with that, I promised myself. In the meantime, I was
just glad we got to keep Kurex a little longer.
Once Charon
(who was even creepier than I had ever imagined) had loaded him
onto the flat, black ferry, the big horse stood quietly, watching
me as though he was waiting for me to come aboard too.
“ It’s okay, boy,” I told him. “I’ll be there in a
minute.”
I
really didn’t like the idea of getting on board that ferry—not just
because I was
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