Page 83 of Love and Death
My eyes widen in shock as a flaming hand suddenly clamps around the silhouetted neck of a much smaller figure.
“She will not want you, if you let her escape.”
“Then let that be her choice—”
Cerberus lets out a pained cry, the flames dying just as there’s a sickening crunch, and the room is once again cast into darkness.
I hardly dare to breathe as silence stretches on for a long minute before it is broken by the hellhound’s voice, “Hazel, are you alright?”
“Yes.”
“Good, just a moment.”
There’s the scuffle of a body crawling through the dirt before flames light up the darkness to reignite my torch. The hellhound is sat on the floor in front of me, holding the side of his ribs where dark blood seeps through his shirt.
“You’re hurt!”
“It is nothing. I will survive this, but I dare say she will not.”
I glance behind Cerberus only to quickly look away, Eris’ body lying amidst the dust, her neck singed and bent the wrong way. My lips part to ask if she is really dead, but then I think better of it.
“We need to go. Eris’ presence will be missed when she does not return with a report.”
“I thought you said they wouldn’t check the catacombs.”
“I did not expect it,” Cerberus admits, grunting in pain as he rises to his feet. He offers his hand to help me up before walking over to lift Eros onto his back. “But Eris is different. Deimos will know where she went, and hewillnotice when she does not return.”
He takes a long, stuttering breath in as Eros’ weight settles on his shoulders.
“Shouldn’t you cauterize the wound?” I ask.
“I cannot. She used a chaos blade; it will have to be sown together by a thread of starlight.”
“A thread of starlight? You can’t be serious. Where are we supposed to get that?”
“Right now? Nowhere, we have to focus on escape. I will be fine. It is painful, that is all. Come.”
He refuses to say more, and I can do nothing but worry in silence as Cerberus takes Death in his arms and leads on. The catacombs continue to narrow and twist as we descend, and then I hear the eerie echo of trickling water up ahead.
“What is that?”
“A distributary of the Styx. It runs under the palace mountain and has partially flooded the lower levels of the catacombs over the last few centuries.”
“We aren’t goingdowninto the lower levels, are we?”
“It is the only way to the forgotten gate.”
“Through the waters of the Styx?”
“It is only a short wade, a few minutes at most.”
My heart skips a nervous beat in my chest, my mouth going dry at the very thought of touching the Styx again, let alone wading through it, regardless of how long.
“Is it safe?”
“Safe enough.”
This is not the answer I hoped to hear, but what choice do I have? I press my hand to where I’ve hidden the golden obols, hoping that’ll work the same way down here.
