Page 60 of The Catacomb King
“Is there a — a service? A funeral service? Can I — can I come?”
Again the godling’s spider-face didn’t change. But his silence spoke volumes. He looked up at Hades.
“She won’t be here by then,” Hades said. To me, he said, “It’ll take too long to prepare the body. Longer than what’s left of your three days.”
I almost retorted, automatically,Then I’ll stay.
But I didn’t. I didn’t know Mackr. Hell, I didn’t evenlikeMackr. I had my own people.
Still, as Mackr was lifted and carried off, I could not shake the sense that he was notasunlike my people as he seemed. Despite the spider-face and the douchebag attitude. I felt like I should be there for him. I felt like I was doing something wrong.
I realized I was crying. Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck. I swiped my disgusting bloody hand across my disgusting bloody face.
Everyone was staring at me.
Hades touched my shoulder. He guided me away, handed me off to Elke. As Elke ushered me back to Hades’s bedchamber, Hades turned away and began to instruct the workers. I saw a few of them, hesitantly, climb back into the pipe-shaft, saw a few others carrying off rock and debris.
In the room, Elke brought me another bowl of water and a cloth. She bound my ankle. We were both silent.
I thought she would return me to the reservoir — I wanted to go back to work, wanted to escape the storm of guilt and horror in my head, and I had less than one day left — but she went away. I did not even have the energy to pace. I curled up on the bed, naked under the blanket, and sobbed until my throat gave out.
When the door opened again, I knew it was Hades and not Elke. I could always tell.
“Go away,” I said. “I’ll go back to the reservoir in a minute.”
“You won’t be able to get there by yourself.”
“Yes, I will,” even though no, I wouldn’t, the catacombs fucking moved. This whole place was a horror. I wanted to go home, where at least if someone died I would be able to go to the fucking funeral.
Hades came over to the bed. He hesitated. Then he lay down, shoes and all, on top of the coverlet. He didn’t make any move to touch my naked body. He didn’t even say anything obnoxious. He just reached over and put his hand on my shoulder, over the blanket.
I didn’t soften or move toward him. But I didn’t move away, either.
My chest and stomach were hollow. The skin on my face was taut with the salt of my dried tears.
The weight of his body on the bed, I knew, was as close to comfort as anything this awful place had to offer me.
It wasn’t much.
But it wasn’t nothing.
Despite myself, I found my muscles easing under his hand. After a few minutes, I had recovered enough to speak again.
“Okay,” I said. “Give me a minute to get dressed. Go back to the reservoir. Send Elke to escort me.”
I thought he’d say, snidely,You could say thank you.
But he didn’t. He only sighed. Then, without a word, he got up and left. Doing as I’d said.
The room felt empty without him. I stood. Rubbed my eyes. Stretched my aching limbs. They hurt from hauling Mackr, from being crushed by Hades’s body. I checked my skin in the light of the fire. I was bruised all over.
But nothing was broken. Not even my swollen ankle. If I steeled myself, I could even put pressure on it.
This hideous place wouldn’t get me that easy.
I thought: One more day.
Don’t Look So Surprised
