Eurydice

6

After what felt like hours, we came to a stop. The boat met the opposite bank, and through the thick fog I could see flashes of light.

"Alright, spirits," Charon called out. "Off ye go. Have a lovely day."

He laughed heartily as we stepped off, and we could still hear him as he and the boat disappeared into the mist.

"I didn't like him, not one bit," the old woman grumbled. She smiled at me again, but her eyes were tired. "Let's join the others, shall we?"

I nodded, and her knobby hand took the back of my arm. She steered me through the fog, and when we joined the others, I gasped.

Behind the wall of mist was a pair of black, diamond-encrusted gate doors. They were so tall, their tops were hidden in the fog below the cavern roof.

The thing that made us all freeze, however, was the great hound guarding them.

Three heads topped its dark, muscular body. Each one had a set of slimy, gleaming fangs and merciless eyes fixed on us. Its growl hummed inside my skull, making my teeth hurt, and the old woman tightened her grip on my arm.

Cerberus stayed sitting down, looking as if he was waiting for us to make a move. My eyes trailed down the long silver chain that kept him in place, and I relaxed a bit.

"He can't hurt us," I said softly. The spirits gave me uncertain looks. "That chain won't let him get far."

"But far enough to get us if we tried to get past the gates," a man muttered.

A small boy tugged at my chiton. "How we get in there, lady?"

I smiled at him with gritted teeth. The sight of his soft face and big eyes was a painful reminder that I would never have children of my own. The snake and Aristaeus stole that from me.

"The stories say that one of Lord Hades's servants comes out and opens the gates," I said kindly. "We'll just have to wait for him."

"What if he don't?" The boy looked at Cerberus in terror, taking a step away from the foul beast.

I took his small, silver hand. "Hades's job is to care for spirits -I mean us- and he wouldn't let us remain here for all eternity without being judged."

He looked to the gates and then back at Cerberus, jumping when the dog growled louder.

"Bad puppy," he spat, glaring.

Cerberus, in reply, licked all three of his chomps.

"Leave the beast alone," the old woman murmured. She watched the gate, and when her eyes lit up, I turned to see what she'd spotted.

A man in black robes approached. At first, I thought it was Hades, but this man had silver skin and plain sandals. He marched up to the gates and peered through the bars.

"How many?" he called out, his voice as bleak as the rest of the Underworld.

We talked amongst ourselves, counting and letting the old woman speak for us.

"Twenty-three, sir."

He nodded. "Not a big load today, then. Come inside."

The man snapped his fingers, and the gates swung open with an ear-shattering screech. We all winced before going through, keeping a good ten feet between us and Cerberus.

His six eyes burned into our souls as we entered, and the gates clanged together noisily. The boy held my hand as he blew a raspberry at the canine, and then he grinned at me.

I smiled, trying to ignore the anxiety eating at my stomach. Now we were going down a long, pockmarked road filled with fog. If we could feel anything, I knew we would be shaking from the cold.

We stopped walking when the man turned around, face grave.

"The palace is a few yards from here. King Minos, the head judge, call you in by name, then you will enter. Whatever judgement he gives you," his eyes flashed a warning, "you must accept it. Understand?"

When we nodded, he gestured behind him. "Keep going this way, and then follow my instructions. Farewell."

The fog shifted until it blanketed him, and when it moved away, the man was gone.

We clustered together and continued up the road, murmuring nervously.

"Will I go to Tar..." the boy couldn't finish, and I thought he looked even paler. With my free arm, I bent over and scooped him up. His clung to me as he shook.

"King Minos is a fair judge," I soothed. "He will not send such a good boy like you to a horrible place."

He kissed my cheek, then settled his face in the crook of my neck. I rubbed his ankle and hummed.

"What song is that?" the woman asked.

"Something my love used to sing." He made countless songs for any occasion, and the one I hummed was a lullaby.

A lullaby I would never get to use.

The palace rose out of the mist, rising higher than even the gates. It was made of solid, midnight-black obsidian, and all its windows were covered with dirt. Surrounding it was a wide expanse of gray, brittle grass that looked as sharp as Cerberus's fangs.

We went down the winding road that led to the palace, all of us silent. The boy whimpered in my ear, and I gave him a soft squeeze.

"There's nothing to fear," I whispered. "It'll be okay."

The great iron doors were less than a yard away. He gripped me tighter. "No, it won't. I've been bad."

I forced a laugh, but it sounded strangled. "You're a good boy. What's your name?"

"Ander."

"Ander, I know the judges will put you in a good place. I promise."

When we arrived at the entrance, no one dared to knock. We shared glances, silently urging each other. Thankfully, the doors opened by themselves and revealed a large room set with white marble floors. I could see a bit of the chandelier, which seemed to be made of human bones.

"Send in Callinicus," a man boomed.

We all looked at one another, and I spotted an older man with wide, terrified eyes. He moved through the crowd, hands shaking until he stopped at the doors.

He hesitated, and my old woman friend whispered, "It wouldn't be wise to keep them waiting."

He nodded and crossed the threshold, the doors swinging shut behind him without a sound.

We waited, huddled together as if to keep warm. Ander remained as still as a statue against me, his curls in my face.

"No!" Callinicus screamed inside. "I don't deserve Tartarus! I'm innocent, innocent-!"

The new silence after seemed to choke us, if we could breathe. The crowd began to whisper hysterically and Ander trembled.

I hummed a bit louder, struggling to not shake as well.

We jumped when the doors opened again, no Callinicus in sight.

"Send in Ander."