When night fell in Hell, they were satisfied that the pursuit had ended. They had talked and slept and now were eager to get out of the cramped cave.
"I believe there is some way out of Hell," Mym said. "I intend to find it. Do you have any idea where it might be?"
Ligeia considered. "For you, many ways. For me" "For us both. Maybe you could not use the exit by yourself, but I could enable you to use it." She brightened. "Maybe oh, dare I hope?"
"It is better to hope than to have no hope." "I have hoped many times and always had my hope dashed." "There's always hope that this time your hope won't be dashed." She smiled. "For you, I will entertain that hope. But I really don't know where an exit would be. The River
Styx circles all of Hell, and only the ferryman Charon can take a soul across. That he will not do, except by the order of Satan." "But Hell is three dimensional!" Mym protested.
"How can one river surround it all?"
"I don't know," she said, surprised. "And we came down from above, so there must be a route there," he persisted.
"Yes, there must be," she agreed. "Funny that I never thought of that. But I still don't know how to use such an exit."
It occurred to Mym that if Hell were like Purgatory, its apparent three dimensionality could be an actual two dimensions, so that one river could indeed enclose it all. The descending capsule could have carried them right through the River Styx, charmed by Satan's order.
But he saw no point in bring up such morbid speculation. "What we need to do is inquire," he said.
"There is sure to be someone who knows and will tell us. But we can't question the damned souls openly, or Satan will shut off any exit that we find." "We could use the back route," she said. "The demons don't go there, because"
"Back route?"
"There are roads and things for the front route, but the demons use those, so anyone who doesn't belong would be challenged and caught very soon. Of course, if we were invisible, it might work but we'd have to become visible to talk with anyone, and then the demons might see. But the back route is through the wilderness the marshes around the rivers, mainly. But though there aren't demons, there are other things, like monsters and natural hazards. I don't know whether" "What happens to a person caught by a monster or a natural hazard?"
"A lot of discomfort or pain, mainly," she said. "We really can't die here, but it would hurt a lot to be chomped up and eaten by a monster, and then you'd be in its belly. I really wouldn't enjoy that."
That was something to think about. Could a monster consume Mars? Probably not. But it could consume Ligeia. Could he protect her from such threats? Perhaps he could, by keeping her in contact with him.
"I think I can guard you from that. Are you willing to risk it?" "At this point it can be no worse than what Satan would do to me, if" She didn't finish, and Mym knew why. If she failed her assignment of trapping him in Hell, for all that she had never agreed to do it, she would be punished in Hell's worst fashion. There were indeed fates worse than death, and Hell was the place where these were suffered.
"I have a tentative plan of escape," Mym said carefully. "I can't tell you exactly what it is, because news might reach Satan." He flicked his eyes toward the snake without moving his head, hoping that she would understand the signal while the snake missed it. "But it requires that I meet with the various leaders of the souls of Hell not the ones doing Satan's business, but the ones who are genuinely interested in human welfare. I presume that, though these souls are damned, they are not totally evil. Can the back route get me to these souls, and can you guide me there?"
Her eyes also flicked toward the snake. "Yes." How comprehensive an answer was that? Whatever it was, he had to accept it.
They climbed down out of the cave and to the ledge, and the snake slithered after them.
That was fine with Mym; he did not want to get rid of the snake, because then Satan would have to assign some other creature to snoop, and that one might be more effective. Also, the snake served as the pretext for him not to speak his true plan aloud, so that he did not have to share it with Ligeia. He disliked having to distrust her, but she was serving as an agent of Satan, and he could not be quite, quite certain of her ultimate loyalty.
It was nervy business, walking down the narrow ledge in the dark, but necessary. They proceeded slowly for hours, winding around the mountain, and finally, as dawn was threatening, they reached the base.
They were both tired, so sought a place to rest and sleep. To be tired in the spirit form was no more anomalous than dawn in Hell. Mym's body seemed fully physical to him; it even had natural functions, requiring him to borrow the cover of a bush for a minute. It seemed that if one ate in the Afterlife, one also digested and eliminated; if one labored, one became tired.
They formed a bower, a shelter of boughs under a leaning tree, making a bed of leaves and fem. They lay down to sleep and the bugs located them. This was Hell, of course; naturally there were obnoxious vermin.
But Mym simply enfolded Ligeia in his cloak, and the bugs could not get to them. Of course this made it more difficult to sleep, because she was very warm and soft against him. He had sought her because he was in need of a woman, but he wasn't quite sure of her, and of course a princess was not a concubine, so he did not want to move things along too hastily. But that did not mean that he could simply ignore her contact and sleep. 'A penny for your thoughts," she murmured. 'No sale."
'Are you sure you don't desire me?" 'Of course I desire you!" he snapped. "But"
"That's nice," she said. "But don't worry; I won't corrupt you." And she fell asleep.
How nice for her. Did she, as a pampered princess, even know what male desire signified?
She had to, for she had been threatened with rape both as a mortal and as a spirit. But probably she assumed that nice men were different and expressed desire only as an intellectual compliment with no physical component. Well, he would try to honor that notion. Certainly if he had really wanted concubinage without content, he could have had it in Lilith/Lila.
Lilith. Lila. Ligeia. He had not before realized how similar those names were. Could it be that?
No! That was preposterous. Yet, insidiously, he had to wonder. What a fool Satan would be making of him, if he had been tricked into trapping himself in Hell for the same creature he had renounced in Purgatory! If he was now torturing himself with desire unfulfilled for a damned amoral demoness!
He could phase in to her and learn her identity for certain. He knew that he should.
But still he refrained. Suppose Ligeia turned out to be genuine, and his intrusion betrayed his distrust? How would she react to him then? He would not blame her for feeling betrayed.
Was he weighing the risk of his actual betrayal against her mere feeling of betrayal? There could be no question of the appropriate course to take. Yet he could not.
She stirred. "Why are you tense?" she asked.
"Just thinking."
"Are you sure you won't tell me?"
"You would not like it."
"I don't see how your thoughts could be worse than the rest of Hell."
She had a point. "I am wondering whether you are who and what you say you are."
"I am," she said, then reconsidered. "Oh, you mean you doubt? I suppose that's sensible.
Who else do you think I might be?"
"Lilith, the demoness."
She became fully alert. "The one who went to the cave with the demons? You think I?"
"I told you you wouldn't like it."
"I don't! But I suppose you are right to wonder. Demons can assume any form, so she could make herself look just like me. But how can I prove my identity?"
"There is a way," he said reluctantly.
"That's what men always say, isn't it? But I understand that demons are better at it than genuine people are, so - "
"As the Incarnation of War, I have certain powers. One of them is the ability to"
"To incite violence," she said. "You are doing a fine job of it now!"
This was exactly the kind of entanglement he had wanted to avoid. But now he was in it and had to slog through. "Also to phase in to people, to occupy their bodies and minds and grasp their thoughts."
"Oh." She considered. "I thought you meant another kind of penetration."
"I would not practice either on you without your consent," he said stiffly.
"This phasing in, so you can read my mind does it mean I can also read yours?"
That notion startled him. "I'm not sure. When I have done it with mortals, they were unaware of my intrusion. But I could project my thoughts to them. I suppose, if one realized what the situation was, he might have read my thoughts on his own."
"Then phase in to me," she said.
"But if you should be a demoness"
"Then Satan will know all your secrets. But you seek to know mine. Turnabout is fair play, isn't it?" It did make sense. He had distrusted her; she could distrust him. He wanted to trust her; surely she wanted to trust him. The phasing in would resolve all doubts, one way or the other.
"But do you realize that this can be a more intimate association than any physical one could be?" he asked, still hesitant. "I would rather be known than unknown, "she said simply.
So he phased in. For a moment he had trouble orienting, and was afraid that it wouldn't work when there was no mortal body to anchor to. But then he realized that in the mortal realm he had used the physical body to fix the spiritual essence in place; on this occasion it could be done directly.
He overlapped her and discovered that not only was it possible to do it without the physical bodies, it was much easier, because there was no flesh to get in the way. Just like that, her thoughts were his.
She was genuine. All that she had told him was true. Her mind was so straightforward, and the merging so complete, that there was absolutely no doubt.
So that's the plan! he thought with surprise.
No, that's not your thought, it's mine, the thought followed immediately. Ligeia's.
The rapport was so thorough that he had mistaken her thought for his own! He had never anticipated success like this! Why had she even been concerned about-wait, whose thought was this? His or hers?
Does it matter?
Confused, Mym disengaged. They lay there, both their bodies radiant with the experience, assimilating the enormous impact of the prior few moments. Truly, they had known each other for an instant.
Now Mym discovered that he could recollect greater detail in Ligeia's memories than he had been aware of before. He seemed to have acquired part of her mind.
"It was right to let Rapture go, though you still loved her," Ligeia said.
"You share my memories?" he asked, knowing it was so.
"Your memories become you," she said. "You are a decent man. I can see why you are wary of the demoness; that business with the talking head"
"I had no idea that the phase would be that complete, Li!"
"I know, Mym, I know," she said.
"How well we know each other so suddenly!"
"It was worth it."
"It was worth it," he repeated.
"I think we shall very soon be in love."
"Very soon," he agreed.
"For the first time in my Afterlife, I am glad I went to Hell."
"I know." He kissed her. The acquaintance that should have taken months had been accomplished in seconds.
Now, secure in their knowledge of each other, they slept.
Ligeia did know her way generally about Hell. She had found a map of it in a book Satan had shown her. The book described the various regions and tortures available; the showing of it had not been any favor to her, but a threat. She had been terrified by the threat, but she had remembered the pretty map.
"The River Lethe originates near the center, and that is where Satan's private retreat is," she said. "So we should discover its source spring near here."
"Lethe the water of forgetfulness?" he asked. "My mythology is not yours, but I seem to remember that."
"True. If we thirst, we had better not drink that water, for we will not even remember our mission thereafter."
They walked along, and the snake followed, and they found the spring, and thirst smote Mym, but he knew he could not drink. The clear water bubbled up from the white sand below, forming a lovely pool surrounded by rich vegetation. There were several canoes on a rack beside it. This was evidently a wilderness retreat.
"Odd that such a thing should exist in Hell," Mym remarked.
"It's a trap. Unwary souls who flee the work gangs find their way here and choose to boat and swim in the water."
"I see. Satan does love to torture insidiously."
"But we can use a canoe," she said. "It doesn't matter if we get splashed, as long as none of it gets in our mouths. Of course it might not be smart actually to swim in it."
"Not smart at all," he agreed.
"The rivers lead to every major section of Hell. Some of them are pretty nasty. That's why there isn't much traffic on them."
They lifted a canoe and turned it over. It was made of aluminum or whatever passed for it in the Afterlife and was light. They set it in the water and climbed carefully in. The snake joined them. There were two aluminum paddles with it, too. It floated very nicely on the water.
"I would hardly need to drink the water to forget," Mym said. "This is such a pleasant place."
"Appearances can be deceptive," she said.
They paddled. Mym had had experience with this sort of thing and had the rear seat; he kept a straight course by sculling, while Ligeia paddled on either side in front.
They guided it to the outlet, where the flow of the river commenced. The water was calm; only the slightest current was felt. The vegetation grew richly up to the shore, and trees overhung, so that the stream seemed to be passing under a green canopy. Small fish swam below, and turtles were at the fringe. It was hard indeed to remember that this was Hell!
But soon the stream entered a marshy region where water plants encroached. The plants seemed innocent hyacinths but Mym was cautious. This was, after all-, Hell.
Sure enough, as they glided close, he saw little feeler threads writhing out from the plants, reaching toward the canoe. There seemed to be sap flowing that resembled saliva. Those plants were hungry for more than water.
"Stay clear of those plants," he warned Ligeia.
"The hungrycinths," she agreed. "They will leave nothing but bones, if they get the chance to feed."
Mym wondered how a spirit-person could have bones. But surely he did, here in Hell. He liked this quiet stream less.
They found a channel by the plants, but there were more and more of the things, and soon they could go no farther without forging directly through. "I think we'd better do it rapidly,"
Mym said. "If we travel swiftly enough, they won't be able to get hold."
They gathered momentum and struck the bank of plants at speed. The drag was immediately felt. The canoe slowed, partly from the sheer clogging mass of plants, and partly from the latching-on of their hairlike tentacles. They continued paddling, but soon became bogged down.
Now the plants seemed to crowd in, extending their thick leaves over the sides of the canoe, reaching in with their feelers. Sap fairly drooled.
Mym lifted his paddle high and brought it down beside the canoe, smashing at the plants.
They were crushed down with a sick vegetable squishing sound. He smashed again, at those on the other side, freeing what he could reach of the canoe. "Knock them away!" he called to Ligeia.
"Then we can move on through!"
She lifted her paddle and brought it down. But her motion was ineffective and dislodged only a few plants. "Harder!" Mym called. His own plants were crowding in again.
She struck harder and water splashed up against Mym. He shielded his face instinctively. His right arm was spattered and where the droplets touched, spots of numbness developed. The water of Lethe was making his very flesh forget!
"Don't splash!" he cried.
"Oops!" She restricted her effort and managed to get most of the plants unclung.
"Now paddle forward," he said. "We can do it."
They both worked hard, and the canoe began to move reluctantly. Now the action of the paddles tended to clear the plants from the sides. But it was a lot of work for excruciatingly slow progress.
At last they forged out of the band of plants and into clear water. But there were more hungrycinths ahead. Mym peered about, trying to spy the route of least resistance, but all looked equally bad. No matter which way they went, there would be a struggle.
They made the struggle, navigating interminable rafts of vegetation, and at last came to a weather-worn landing. "This is our first stop," Ligeia said breathlessly. "Why don't I wait in the canoe while you talk to the man?"
He glanced at her, surprised. He was sure she did not want to be separated from him, here in the hind region of Hell. Then he saw the snake and realized that they could not afford to have it reporting on the true nature of his dialogue with the leader of the damned souls. He trusted Ligeia completely now, and she trusted him but neither of them trusted the snake. So she was volunteering to keep the snake here, providing him the necessary privacy. This was a brave and good gesture on her part.
"Yes, I can see you are tired," he said. "You stay here and rest, and I will return as soon as I can."
Then Mym went and found the leader of the damned souls, who was engaged in shoveling muck out of a canal ditch. Naturally the muck seeped back in almost as fast as he got it out; that was the nature of Hell.
Mym introduced himself briefly, then phased in to the skeptical man. The contact, as it had been with Ligeia, was instantly perfect, and the man understood the full nature of Mym's plan and acquiesced. Much sooner than would otherwise have been the case, Mym was back at the canoe.
"We'll have to ask the next," Mym said shortly. That was for the benefit of the snake, who would think that Mym had not gotten what he wanted news of a secret exit from Hell.
They paddled on downstream, and in due course the River Lethe debouched into a river of an entirely different nature. This one was largely frozen. Ice rimmed its shore and closed in on the center current, leaving only a narrow channel. Icicles hung from the neighboring trees.
"What in Hell is that?" Mym inquired, surprised.
"The River Kokytus," Ligeia informed him. "The waters of lamentation."
"I lament the moment I committed myself to this voyage," Mym muttered. "We'll freeze!"
"Doesn't your cloak protect you?"
"It should. But what about you?"
"I may have to help you paddle from the rear seat."
They nudged the canoe into the frozen Kokytus. Immediately a cutting crosswind developed, shoving the canoe sidewise toward the ice. Ligeia had to put her paddle out to stave off a collision, and Mym did the same. Now the wind tore at the woman, whipping her hair across her face, quickly chilling her.
"Come back here with me!" Mym cried. "Before you freeze."
"But then the ice"
"You can't endure that cold wind long!"
She had to agree. She made her way back to him, and got under the cover of his cloak.
But now the canoe was weighted down at the back, and lifting out of the water at the front. The wind turned it about so that the front overrode the ice. They were unable to paddle it forward.
"I'll have to go back to my seat," Ligeia said, shivering with the expectation. "It's the only way we can"
"No! I won't have you freezing!"
"But you have to talk with"
But Mym had a notion. "Let's see if we can travel on the ice!" he exclaimed.
They tried it. They paddled madly and rammed the canoe up farther on the ice. When it would go no farther, they moved up to the front end, overbalancing it and lifting the rear out of the water. Then some scraping and shoving with the paddles got the remainder onto the ice.
After that it wasn't hard. They simply poled the canoe across the ice, downstream. The liability had become an asset.
But when they came to the landing for the next meeting, the problem of cold resumed. If Ligeia remained with the canoe, she would freeze. But if she did not --
"Actually, that snake's torpid," Mym said. "It's coldest m the bottom of the boat, where it touches the ice."
Ligeia checked. The snake was curled up, trying to husband some warmth, but obviously not succeeding. "The poor thing," she murmured. "I'd better get it to somewhere warmer."
"That reptile is" Mym started, but couldn't finish, because he didn't want the snake to know he knew.
"Cold," she finished. "I don't care what kind of creature it is, it shouldn't be allowed to freeze." She reached into the canoe and carefully picked up the snake.
Mym was disgusted. He would have been glad to be rid of the snake in a coincidental manner, so that Satan would not catch on. At the same time, he appreciated the softer nature of Ligeia, who, however foolishly, was being caring.
So they walked away from the frozen river, and Ligeia carried the snake along, warming it.
The souls of this region resembled snow monsters as they struggled to carry baskets of snow through the drifts. Obviously they had been assigned this work for the same reason the others had to slop muck endlessly pointless misery. The demons in charge were in a high tower, evidently warmed by a stove, because smoke issued from its chimney. That meant that the workers were not closely supervised but it seemed the demons kept track of the deliveries, for as Mym watched, a snow-bomb was lofted from an automatic catapult. It arched through the air and landed on a laggard worker, burying him in snow.
Another worker saw the two of them. "New recruits?" he asked. "Here, I've got an extra coat for the lady." He paused to strip his outer layer, a furred jacket, battered but good.
"But you need that yourself!" Ligeia protested.
"Not as much as you do," the man said, handed her the jacket, and resumed his plodding.
It was a help, for now she was able to walk alone. Mym located the leader and matched his step, speaking briefly to him while Ligeia walked some distance behind. Then Mym phased in with the man, and in a moment the understanding was complete; the man would spread the word, and these people would cooperate. Mym disengaged, walked along for another minute, then broke away, trusting that neither the supervising demon nor the snake Ligeia carried had comprehended the true nature of his contact.
They returned to the canoe. "They don't seem like bad people," Mym remarked as they resumed their skid along the ice.
"They really aren't," she agreed. "Of course I am bringing you to the best groups, the ones who were only marginally evil to begin with and who have probably expiated enough of their sin to qualify for Heaven, except that Satan never does let anyone go, regardless. I under stand some of the damned souls in other regions are really bad."
"That man gave you his coat," Mym persisted. "Shouldn't that count on his balance card, a good deed?"
"It should," she agreed. "But he didn't do it for that, because they all know Satan won't let them go anyway."
"Which is the truest positive act sacrifice without hope of reward."
"I wish we could help these people, somehow," she said.
"If we find our avenue of escape, some of them may use it too," he reminded her.
She now understood exactly what he had in mind. "Yes."
The snake, recovered from its lethargy of cold, perked up. It was now coiled about one of Ligeia's legs, warmed by her body without interfering with her use of the paddle. Mym wondered how it reported to Satan, whether it had to make periodic check-ins, or whether it was telepathic.
Probably the former; the latter would have betrayed them already, for it would have read their minds and not have to listen to their words. Perhaps it was a variety of demon that could vaporize at will, zip away to report, and return while they were sleeping. That was what Mym was counting on.
The Kokytus debouched into a broad and quiet river, and the ice gave way to polluted water. This was easier to canoe through, but unpleasant to see and smell. "Which one is this?"
"The Acheron," she replied, removing her jacket, as the air had warmed. "River of Sorrows."
"That figures," he said. "The clear, clean spring water is forgetful. The frozen stream is lamenting. And the polluted one has sorrows."
"What greater sorrow is there than the destruction of what once was lovely?" she asked.
He sighed agreement. "Yet the mortals are doing their best to make all their rivers like this."
"The mortal world is going to Hell. Anybody can see that, from this vantage. But it's sad."
"If only they would understand and change course!" he said. "Maybe if mortal people could only see Hell or hear about how it really is, before..."
"But, every mortal person has to die before seeing Hell, and then it's too late."
That was the crux of the problem. It meant that Satan stood a fair chance to prevail, because of the ignorance of mortals.
The river narrowed and the current accelerated. "I hope there aren't rapids!" Mym muttered.
"I don't think there are, but -"
The river forked. "Which way do we go?" Mym asked.
"I don't know. They probably rejoin after a bit, so maybe it doesn't matter." \par Mym steered the canoe into the left channel, which seemed to be the more navigable of the two. All went well until they came up against a fallen tree. It hung' slantwise over the water, blocking progress. I
"We can duck under it," Mym said.
They coasted up to it, and both squeezed down low, | and they passed under the trunk. But as they did, several' objects dropped from it into the canoe. Mym thought they were bits of bark, but then he saw them scuttling. They ( were little crablike things, with pincers. They waved little antennae in the air, then headed purposefully for the near- l est delicacy, Ligeia.
"Trouble," Mym said. "Get your legs up!"
She looked back and screamed. She tried to get her legs up, but got a foot caught under the seat. The first crab reached that foot and took an experimental pinch. Ligeia screamed again.
Mym took his paddle and pounded at the crabs with it.
Then he jumped, one had pinched him on the ankle. It hurt terribly.
Then the canoe ran up against a submerged log and stalled.
First things first. Mym got to work cleaning out the crabs. He discovered that he could stun them momentarily with a blow, then use the blade of the paddle to lift them up and dump them out. One by one he pursued them, until all were gone.
Next, he considered their external predicament. He could not see the log, but he could not move the canoe off it. "I'll have to get out and lift it off," he said.
"No, no, don't do that!" Ligeia protested. "Any part that touches this water the sorrows"
He didn't need to have sorrows in his feet, legs, and however far up the water extended when he stood in it. Hell could make things uncomfortably literal. He looked for some other way.
"Oh, no!" Ligeia said.
Mym looked. There in the water was an alligator. It looked hungry.
Desperately, he paddled, trying to boost the canoe off the hang-up, but all he succeeded in doing was to shove his end around until the canoe was sideways, being pushed by the current but not getting anywhere.
That gave him a notion. He continued paddling, with a watchful eye on the alligator, until his end swung the rest of the way around. The canoe was now backwards, facing upstream, still stuck. But Mym's end was beyond the barrier. "Come back here with me, and we can budge it," he called.
Ligeia moved back. As her end lightened, they were at last able to shove off the log, just as the alligator closed in. They took off backward, unable to turn around. So Mym stroked backward while Ligeia moved back to position. The alligator watched, disgusted, but did not pursue.
After that, they knew how to get over the submerged logs. They struggled on to the next landing and got out. This time, again, Ligeia remained in the canoe with the snake, letting Mym handle his business alone.
Shortly after they resumed their journey, the river widened and joined a truly horrendous tributary. The water of the other river smelled of oil, and small blue flames played across its surface.
Ligeia pointed to it. "The River Phlegethon," she said.
Mym was appalled. "You mean we have to go up that?'
She nodded. "The next good group..."
So they stroked up the River of Fire. Mym could feel the heat of the flame on it; when his energetic paddling splashed droplets of water into the canoe, they ignited as they landed. Had the canoe been of wood or bark, it would soon have been ablaze! As it was, it grew hot, and the snake crawled up to the seat beside Ligeia to avoid the discomfort of the metal hull.
Then they came to rapids, and the vapor thrown up by the spuming liquid was burning, making a curtain of fire extending several meters above the surface. "No way we can go through that," Mym said. "We'll have to portage."
They guided the craft to the side, found a reasonably firm section of the bank, and got out. Then they hauled the canoe out and picked up each end. It was heavy and clumsy, seeming much more so than it had when they first put it into the water. This was an indication of how they were tiring.
Then their feet started sinking down into the marshy ground. Each time Mym took a step, there was a sucking sound, and muck coated his boots, and an odor reminiscent of overripe eggs wafted up. Ligeia, wearing only delicate slippers, was worse off.
"Maybe I can haul it!" Mym exclaimed. He set down his end, slogged to the front, took hold, and hauled. The canoe moved, reluctantly. He stepped forward and hauled again. It was feasible. This allowed Ligeia to pick her way more carefully, sparing her slippers and feet further degradation.
But the marsh got worse. It started making sucking sounds of its own, and holes appeared that were not caused by feet. They looked like pursed mouths. Mym accidentally put a foot in one; it sank in halfway to his knee, and the mouth-hole closed about it and hung on.
He wrenched, but the boot remained captive and he was in danger of removing his foot without the boot. Meanwhile there was a kind of hissing and steaming in the hole, as if digestive juices were being squirted about. So he reached with difficulty into the canoe, fetched out a paddle, and used it to jam into the hole and wedge out his boot. It was awkward, clumsy business, but at last he got it free, somewhat degraded on the outside.
He resumed the hauling, now being more careful where he set his feet. His breath was short as he labored, and he was sweating, but he made progress. Again he wondered idly about the physiological effects here in the spirit realm; had he not known where he was, he would have had no way to tell that he was not in the mortal realm. To a spirit, the spirit world seemed just as tangible as the physical world did to a mortal.
They came in above the fire-rapids, launched the canoe, and paddled on upstream. In due course they reached the fourth encampment and made the connection. Then all they had to do was proceed on back down the River of Fire.
Dusk was at hand as they reached the foul Acheron again; instead of entering it, they landed the canoe and made camp at the fringe of the fire zone. There was nothing to drink except some of the firewater, and nothing to eat except tubers they were able to scrounge from the scorched soil. But they stuck the tubers on the ends of long sticks and toasted them at the fire on the river; the tubers were edible if not enjoyable. The firewater did not properly slacken their thirst, but it soon caused them to cease to worry about the matter. They talked, laughed, rolled together, and decided it was time to get serious about sex...and discovered they could not.
The firewater had not only inflamed their desire, it had made one or the other of them impotent. Ligeia found that hilarious, but Mym suspected that in the morning, when he was sober, he would not be laughing. Unrequited lust - trust Hell to be the place for that sort of experience!
Indeed, when the morning came, he was not laughing. His body ached from the exertions of the prior day, and his head felt as if he had soaked it overnight in the stenchwater of the Acheron. Ligeia seemed little better off; her beauty was now overlaid by grime and fatigue. "Oh, my clothing!" she fussed. "No one would take me for a princess now!"
"True," Mym muttered. "They would take you for a woman."
She glanced at him. "Are you making fun of me?"
"No. I never really cared for princesses, but I have known some fine women." Actually that was a confusion, perhaps spawned by his hangover. He did care for princesses, and needed one to share his life. But at the moment he really craved a woman of the nature of Orb, who had brought him up when he had been low and loved him without questioning his nature. Ligeia was both princess and woman but the woman aspect was becoming more important to him.
"Oh." She considered for a moment. "But don't you prefer pretty women?"
"Second only to caring ones."
"You are making fun of me!"
"Come read my mind." He took her hand and drew her in to him. She came, making only token resistance. He phased in to her and discovered a kind of tinder that ignited explosively as it encountered the developing flame of his emotion. There was a dialogue, occurring in an instant; parsed into its components it might have been rendered like this:
"But I'm not ready to love!" she protested.
"You don't need to," he responded. "I'm on the rebound."
"This sort of thing is supposed to take time!"
"We'll give it time."
"Too late! I'm already raging with desire!"
"That's my desire!"
"Not any more!"
They disengaged and looked at each other. "I'm not sure we should have done that," Mym said.
"I'm not sure we should be doing this," she replied.
"Be doing what?"
"What we couldn't do last night." She began removing her clothing.
Mym realized that they had no secrets from each other. It did make sense to complete what they had started in their minds. On the prior night it would have been largely wasted in their besotted state, but now they could appreciate it to its full extent with their minds clear.
He removed his own clothing. "Afterward, we can wash up in firewater," he remarked.
That set her off again, laughing. Her whole body jiggled with her mirth.
There was a sound from the river. Mym looked up and saw a great fiery shape emerging from the water. "What's that?" he asked, alarmed.
Ligeia looked. "The Fireman!" she shrieked.
"The what?"
"The denizen of the River of Fire! I thought he was a myth! We must flee!"
"I'll fight him!" Mym said, getting to his feet.
"You can't!" she protested. "He burns everything!"
Mym faced the emerging monster and reached for the Red Sword. But of course the Sword was gone, along with the rest of his clothing. Gone? He had never brought it into Hell! He had no weapon.
The Fireman pointed at a small tree. A jet of flame came from his hand, and the tree burst into fire. The Fireman pointed at the river; the jet touched it, and the water boiled into a cloud of vapor. The Fireman pointed at Mym.
Mym snatched up his cloak and dodged to the side. The ground where he had been standing jumped as if struck by a bomb, and smoke roiled up.
"Flee!" Ligeia cried, terrified.
Mym concluded that this was good advice. He grabbed her hand and fled.
They ran to the shore of the Acheron, and the Fireman did not pursue them there. He hovered for a moment where they had camped, then marched back into the Phlegethon.
When they returned to their campsite, they found only slag and ashes. Their clothing and the canoe had been destroyed. The only other survivor was the snake.
They stood there. "Maybe we shouldn't have," Ligeia said.
"We didn't." Mym reminded her.
"Well, we were going to."
But now the mood was gone. It would have to wait for another time.
They resumed their trip, walking carefully in their bare feet. Fortunately, Ligeia said, their next and final stop was not far ahead. They proceeded to the juncture of the rivers and walked along the bank of the Acheron; in an hour or so came to the merger with the greatest of all Hell's rivers, the Styx. It was so vast as to seem like an ocean in itself, and its waters were inky black and seemed deep beyond imagination. Out across its somber surface, near the horizon, strange waves developed, as if some massive and sinister creature swam below. Mym would not have wanted to take a canoe out there!
In another hour they reached the encampment of the final group. There were women here
indeed, it seemed to be an Amazon community and they looked at Mym appraisingly, as if judging whether his flesh would be better for soup or for pot roast. But Ligeia spoke up, telling them that Mym was Mars, the Incarnation of War, and needed to meet with their leader privately. They were impressed, for they were warlike women, and soon Mym was closeted with the head Amazon. He explained in a few words, then phased in with her.
"Lovely!" she exclaimed as they disengaged. "You may count on us."
The Amazons provided them with clothing and a tent to stay in and fed them well. "We shall coordinate the signals," their leader assured Mym. "Give us a day, while you rest."
Then Mym and Ligeia retired to their tent, at last having the chance to do what they wished without intrusion and found themselves both so tired that they simply flopped on the fragrant straw and slept.
