Page 66 of Love and Death
This is my mother’s coin. It’s been so long since I saw her name, and written in my father’s hand no less.
My brow knits together as I blink the tears from my eyes. I can understand why he might have mine, as there was no body to bury for my death, but why does he still have Mother’s?
I hold my breath as I turn the last coin over in my hand, exhaling with unexpected relief when I discover that it’s also blank.
My relief is short-lived, however, as a horrible slurping sound draws my attention back to the present. I glance up at the moor and Eros and find myself momentarily stunned.
His body is being pulled under.
Already, he’s nearly half-swallowed by mud from the waist down. The sinking was so subtle that I doubt I would have noticed until he had gone under, if not for the sudden gurgling of the wet earth.
No sooner do I think this, then the ground beneath him groans to open its gaping mouth. The moss tears, water rushing in to hurry him to his grave.
“No, no, no!” I scramble forward, quickly tucking the obols into the bustline of my corset, and reach for the pale god’s hand. “Eros!”
Of course, he does not respond.
He is as heavy as an ox, and, worse still, limp. No matter how much I struggle against the moor, I cannot pull him up, much less free of it.
I dig my heels into the swampy moss, trying to gain leverage, but the ground sloughs away beneath him, jerking me forward with it.
He’s going to drown right in front of me if I cannot save him.
Panic grips my chest as I slip, mud and slime making it nearly impossible to maintain my hold on his skin. The moor begins to devour his waist, and I reach for the tattered lapel of my father’s coat instead. My grip holds this time, and I am able to stop Eros from sinking further, but that is all.
He is still too heavy; the moor too strong.
I cannot hold on for much longer.
I grit my teeth, sweat beading across my brow as I refuse to give up, even as I feel the moss beneath my feet start to give way. My stomach lurches as I realize that it means to swallow me, too.
It always did, but then, something strikes me as odd.
Looking down, I hardly dare to believe what I see. Despite the moss now being fully submerged, I have not sunk with it. In fact, I’m standing on the water as if it were nothing more than soft earth beneath my feet.
Not even the hem of my dress is so much as damp.
I nearly lose my grip on Eros, as startled as I am by this revelation, until I remember.
The obols.
Eros’ body did not start sinking until after I took them, and I had all but forgotten about the dampness and the rising water since taking them in hand. Perhaps these waters are not merely magic, but are drawn from the Styx itself.
And just maybe, these coins can protect us both.
Grabbing one of the obols out of my corset, I hold tight to Eros with my other hand as I search for a safe place to secure the coin to his person. The coat’s pockets are hidden beneath the mud, and I dare not risk the obol trying to pull them out.
I inhale sharply, remembering a small trick my father had shown me on our travels together. Tugging the coat open, I smile at the hidden stitches inside. A nearly invisible pocket, perfect for a wedding ring, and just the right size for a magic coin.
Tucking the obol snugly inside it, I whisper a silent prayer of hope that this will work.
At first, nothing happens, and then I feel the moor groan and shift beneath the water. I fight to maintain balance as the surface ripples and then, with a rumble,breaks, forcing the rest of his body out from its murky depths.
I blink several times, hardly daring to believe my eyes, but nothing changes.
It worked; itactuallyworked!
Exhausted and trembling, I ease myself down to sit on top of the water with a heavy sigh of relief, but I do not let go of Eros. I watch him where he floats beside me as I try to catch my breath. His hair spreads out like frost across the water, his skin somehow paler than I remember, and I wonder how I am supposed to save him.
