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‘We’re heading to Tartarus,’ Will said, and Nico couldn’t help admiring the determination in his voice. ‘Our guides said the river … They saidyoucould provide a shortcut.’
She studied him carefully, the whites of her eyes etched with veins of sapphire. ‘Your guides were correct. You could gain access to Tartarus by following the Acheron over the brink and plunging into the darkness. But why would you ever do that of your own volition?’
Nico looked at Will. Without speaking, they had a whole conversation comprised of raised eyebrows, frowns and shrugs. Each knew what the other was thinking:Can we trust this person?
Nico decided to get more information. ‘Is the drop survivable? Like … in your boat, for instance?’
The corner of Gorgyra’s mouth twitched. ‘Survival is such a relative term here in the Underworld. My husband and I havesurvived. But is that the same as living?’
‘Your husband?’ Will asked.
‘Acheron.’ Gorgyra gestured towards the rushing water. ‘Go say hello.’
Nico’s mouth felt dry. ‘Heisthe river? Or the god of the river?’
The sadness in Gorgyra’s expression was almost unbearable. ‘I’m not sure there is a difference any more. Over the centuries, he has lost his physical form and his sense of self. One can only absorb so much pain from others. The souls who are consigned to his waters … Their sins and wrongdoings are so overwhelming they forget all that was ever good in their lives. And so has Acheron.’
Nico watched the current flow. He wondered how much pain Will, as a healer, had absorbed from others over the years. How much had Nico himself asked him to carry?
Suddenly Nico didn’t want to bring his boyfriend any closer to that riverbank. He wanted to run back to the sunlight of the upper world.
‘We have to try.’ Will’s tone didn’t waver. His eyes were locked on the white boat. ‘Gorgyra, is there any way we can borrow that?’
She made a sound somewhere between a grunt and a laugh. ‘You are brave to ask … or foolhardy. The difference is subtle, as is the difference between life and survival. But you are jumping ahead of me, young demigod.’
She stood, and the whispers of her gown rose to a crescendo. Nico was used to deceased souls begging him to listen, but these had a particularly strong pitch of desperation. As the grey fabric swished and shifted, Nico knew his suspicions were correct: each thread was a soul. Each thread had once been a person, and each thread was stillself-aware.
‘You can hear them, can’t you?’ Gorgyra rested her fingertips gently on Nico’s shoulder.
‘Yes.’ Just admitting it brought a wave of sadness crashing over Nico.
How could Gorgyra stand those voices? Why would she choose to wrap herself in their desperation? But at the same time … wrapping oneself in desperation wasn’t new to Nico. He’d been doing it his whole life. A part of him welcomed the rush of sadness. At least it was familiar, and the familiar was not frightening.
‘Nico?’ Will clenched his hand around his sun globe, as if ready to throw it at their hostess. ‘What is she talking about? Who isthem?’
‘You have nothing to fear.’ Gorgyra smiled her sad, caring smile. ‘I am not here to trap you. I am not going to hurt you. Like so many others, you have found me because you need me.’
She ran her hands over the gown, and the whispers finally became clear in Nico’s mind:
I’ll never find anyone who loves me.
Why don’t I get a family?
What’s wrong with me?
Why couldn’t she just feel the same about me?
What did I do wrong?
Do I not deserve to be loved?
Nico wept.
He wasn’t sure how much time passed before Will removed thesling and wrapped his arms around him. ‘Gorgyra, what are you doing?’ Will’s voice was full of fear and confusion. ‘Stop it!’
‘It’s not her,’ Nico sniffled. ‘She told the truth. She’s not hurting me.’
Nico reached out and stroked the smooth fabric of the nymph’s gown. The voices seemed to embrace him, recognizing one of their own.
