The Lingering Thought

Chapter eight

Charon led them into the elevator passed his desk without pausing to look back and ensured they followed. Which they were of course, right behind the God. The doors slid open as they approached, revealing hoards of the dead crammed in like sardines. Whatever semi solid form they had in the lobby dissolved there, meaning that the shades were all crammed in half amongst each other. Percy had to hold in a gag as he joined them, there was a dude standing half inside his chest.

It was his worst claustrophobic nightmare.

He clung to the other twos hands as they began their descent. Suddenly there was a strange lurch in his stomach and he became overwhelmingly dizzy. The elevator wasn't going down anymore, but moving forward. Around him the ghosts began to change, losing their modern attire and becoming dressed in long gray robes. Charon's suit melted away into the shadows and was replaced with his characteristic black robes. He blinked again and the elevator faded away, replaced by Charon's barge. Charon was poling them across a dark, freezing river, swirling with bones, and other, stranger things. Plastic dolls, crushed carnations, soggy diplomas with gilt edges.

"The River Styx..." Annabeth whispered, "it's so..."

"She likes things," Percy said, spotting the metal spider he had sacrificed, "Memories and wants and desires from those that cross Her waters."

"How right you are," an eternal voice boomed from all around them.

The water rose in a twisted column, flexing and squirming until it became a vague human shape. A human that was seven feet tall, and completely covered in pouring water. All Percy could actually see of Her figure was what appeared to be a ripped out portion of chest, shining white ribs and sternum caging in dripping blackness. But it didn't seem to be a wound, for no Ichor flowed free. Styx walked across the surface of Her waters as gracefully as a dancer. Charon bowed so deeply his nose brushed the edge of his boat.

"My Lady,"

"Hello Godling,"

Percy echoed the greeting and the bow. Behind him he could hear heavy panicked breathing and what sounded to be a quietly muttered prayer. He did not risk looking over his shoulder, choosing to keep his eyes on Styx. the Barge had fully stopped moving, all of the denizens crowded on the other side as far from Styx as they could manage. He wondered when he had lost his caution for the Goddess that even Zeus feared.

"I did warn you to not step into my waters did I not?"

"We have no plans to do so," Percy promised quickly, "we simply mean to cross."

"And did you pay darling Charon's fee? He works so very hard."

"Of course we did,"

"And what shall you pay me?"

Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit! Fuck!

"Uh... what do you want?"

Gods he was an idiot.

"I've told you what I like Godling."

Right. Items. He patted his pockets a little desperately. Of course Crusty hadn't dropped a trophy so he couldn't offer that. So all he had was Riptide. Percy absolutely wasn't about to offer his blade, whether it would return or not. Gods dammit! He was about to start rooting around in his backpack before he had a thought. Styx had mentioned another offering, one much older and no longer used. He pulled his Trident charm out from under his shirt and considered the tines. They would do.

Percy pricked his thumb and squeezed. A bead of blood welled, thick and Mortal red. Yet in the low green tinted light of the Underworld it might have had an immortal sheen to it. Who could say. Percy offered his hand to Styx. Pale hands reached out from the sheeting water; unnaturally thin and long, and dotted with black like a seal pup. Styx took his hand in one of Her own, skin frosty against his, and squeezed three drops into the palm of her other hand. Complete silence ruled the Barge.