Chapter 7 #2
“I do not have a choice.”
I look up curiously, hoping for more. Predictably, Cary doesn’t give it. His expression is a shadow, hiding everything.
After one more swallow, I say, “Okay. I’m good.”
Cary pivots to walk away. Not without letting out a quiet snort. I scowl at his back before following.
We cross the sugar-white sand. The black sea’s hymns are sung in series of gentle notes. My eyes scour our surroundings for signs of those gray haunting bodies I saw last time. The ones longing to cross the bridge. But there’s no one else around.
Only us.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
“To see Milos.”
My feet and words fumble at the same time. “Wait, uh…”
Cary gives me a long side glance. “Is there a problem?”
Yes, I want to say.
I stare off at the obsidian building in the distance. Something aches in my sternum like the wrong note played. A warning. I don’t believe London’s in there. I can’t explain it. I just know.
When my fingers begin to stir to the sea’s song, Cary’s eyes watch. I force myself to stop. My mind drifts to London.
Once, he whispered, You look strange when you do that in public. He said it with a smile. With his fingers rubbing along the bracelet he gave me until my hands stilled.
Now I tug gently on the yellow-and-blue threads. London’s somewhere in this vast world I’m still unfamiliar with. Cary’s the key to unlocking all its mysteries.
Pushing out a smile, I say, “Can we walk around first? I’d like to see more of Aides.”
Distrust sits in the corners of his narrowed eyes.
Fuck. I need to think fast. “Come on,” I say, sweetening my smile until it reaches my eyes. “Didn’t Henri say it’s rare for a mortal to find their way into the underworld?”
Cary answers me with a stiffer glare.
I refuse to let it dissuade me.
“Show me around. Just this once.” I move a little closer to him. “After today, I might not ever come back here.”
“You will not,” he says sternly.
My stomach lurches. Is there enough time to find London on this one trip? I press on, unwavering. “Fine. But if this is my last time, what’s it gonna hurt if you give me a small tour?”
Cary holds my gaze for a long moment, considering. I do my best to look more curious than desperate.
Finally, he says, “You are very persistent.”
I shrug. “It’s part of my—”
“Stubbornness,” he finishes.
I flash him a toothy grin that hides my growing need to shove him right into the black ocean.
Cary spins away from me. “This way.” He doesn’t wait to see if I’m behind him. I’m forced to jog to catch up.
“You know, for a guide, you could be a lot friendlier!” I huff.
“And for a guest, you could talk less.”
My jaw clicks shut. But not because of his comment. Because I’m too distracted watching him step into the inky waters, effortlessly lifting the bridge from their depths.
We walk in silence to the gates. Instead of opening them, Cary leads me to a winding path along the side. Stone steps melt into a smooth dirt path.
“Is this a secret passage?” I ask.
He sighs. “More questions? How very un-August of you.”
Despite myself, I snort. “Come on. Do you really expect me to be quiet the whole time?”
“One can only dream.”
When his eyes meet mine, a tiny flicker of gold snakes around his midnight irises. It disappears as we come to a large field of rich green grass. The blades list with the breeze. Tall flowers sprout from the ground. Instantly, I recognize their spiky white petals.
I lean down to sniff. Sweet like honeysuckle.
“Asphodel,” Cary says.
“Where are we?”
He looks out to the cypress trees in the far distance. His mouth loosens into a rare smile. “The Meadows.”
I turn to take it all in. Land unfurling infinitely. Beautiful plants I can’t name dotting the terrain. Sea salt and soil and that heady scent that follows thunderstorms thick in the air. To my left, I hear a noise, something moving in the grass.
No, not something. People. Walking and talking and even dancing under the pinkish-purple sky.
“Are they…?”
“Souls,” Cary tells me.
After a moment, some stop to stare at us. At me.
My pulse rattles. “Like the ones from the beach?”
The thought of them makes me slink closer to Cary. A muted laugh vibrates in his throat. “No,” he says, amused. “They are harmless. Ordinary.”
I wouldn’t call them ordinary. These souls don’t have that filmy gray fog around them like the others did. Instead, they glow bluish like desert bluebells. And they look in no hurry to leave this place.
“How’d they get here?” I wonder aloud.
Hesitation shifts over Cary’s expression. He still doesn’t trust me. I let him study my face, openly, until his suspicion dims.
Eventually, he says, “My brother decides. Milos, the—”
“Final judge of souls,” I echo what Henri said. A lump forms in my throat. “So then, he decides where every soul in Aides goes?”
Cary gives me a quick nod.
I make a note to ask more about that later. My eyes are caught on the souls not far from us. I search through the faces, but it’s hard to get a clear look at everyone. There are so many. What if London is one of them?
When I try to get a better view, fingers wrap around my forearm. “Not too close,” Cary warns.
“Why?”
“They have not seen a mortal since their death.” His thumb skims up the daffodil tattoo on the inside of my arm. My skin buzzes. His breath ghosts along my ear as he whispers, “They might want to keep you.”
I draw back until our eyes find each other. There’s something teasing in his expression. That hint of a smile again.
“You’re joking,” I say.
“I do not joke,” he replies, but not very convincingly.
“You wouldn’t let them keep me,” I say with a smirk. “Then you’d be stuck with me. Forever.”
After a beat, Cary’s fingers uncurl from around my wrist. “Yes,” he says on a deep exhale. “Who would want that?”
“Definitely not me,” I murmur.