I Am Persephone

III

The Underworld was...different from what she'd been expecting. She had expected darkness pressing in on her from all directions, the stench of corpses as their rotting hands reached out, flesh falling off their bones, their haunted faces moaning out for help. She had expected a ferryman cloaked in black, face hidden, reaching out a skeletal hand for coins as a three-headed dog snarled at her. She had expected to feel afraid.

Instead, she had been treated to a pleasant outing on the river with a well-muscled man who introduced himself as Charon and seemed to glow ever so slightly. The darkness was comforting rather than oppressive. The air... There was something damp about the smell, but it wasn't the stench she'd feared. It was actually somewhat pleasant. Interesting, at least.

"What ya 'ere for, love?" Charon's face had been ruddy, skin tan, as if he had been a farmer before this. "Ya look lively 'nough to me."

She had lifted her head, preparing to be rejected. There were no coins on her – what use would she have for them? "I require an audience with...with your..." With his what? His king? What is no one down here saw Hades as a king? Demeter had never explained the workings of the Underworld to her.

"With Aides?"

"Yes. With...with him." She had itched the back of her wrist.

"Mm." Charon had looked her up and down. There had been nothing predatory in his gaze, only searching. "Goddess, are ya?"

"Yes."

A single acknowledging nod. "All right, then. 'Op on."

"Really?" Her eyes had widened. "No...payment?"

"And 'ave 'im chew me out for charging one o' yous?" He guffawed. "No thanks."

So she had climbed onto the boat with his help and taken a seat on the surprisingly dry bench. The ferryman had not allowed on any other passengers – resulting in a collective groan from those still waiting on the riverbank that had made her feel guilty – which meant the journey had been very quiet.

The boat had glided through the fog and the water like a pelican cruising above the ocean.

When the tunnel they were in expanded outwards into a cavern, the smell became somehow metallic. She supposed it must have had something to do with all the minerals poking out of the walls, peeking out curiously at new arrivals.

Charon had helped her back out of the ferry, letting out a low whistle. "All right, love, that'll guide ya from 'ere."

A shadowy figure had emerged from the water, looking completely dry but still dripping.

"What...is it?"

Charon had been turning the boat around. "A wraith. Just 'op back on when ya need to come back."

"Thank you," she'd said, but he had already been out of earshot.

The wraith's voice had made her spine tingle uncomfortably. It was like someone scraping their nails down the bones. "What is your purpose?"

She had repeated what she had already told Charon, keeping her back straight.

The wraith had only turned around, floating down another dark tunnel. After a second of hesitation, she had followed. Her dress had dampened as they travelled through the fog, and the rough ground had dug into her bare feet. She had never worn sandals on the surface so it had never occurred to her that she may have needed them down here.

She had stopped when the wraith had, and it had told her to wait. She had stood there in the cool, damp darkness for what felt like an extraordinarily long minute before it had reappeared around the corner, frightening her.