MICHAEL
“Where’s the ferryman?” I asked after we’d stood by the river long enough to catch our breath. Beside me a polished black granite wall rose high into the sky, with only a few balconies disturbing the face of it. I recognized it as Lucifer’s palace, recognized this view as the one I’d seen from the balcony in Desi’s rooms while I’d lived there. Recognized the steep stairs that climbed the side of the mountainous palace, crowded as usual with the desperate damned.
Desi glared at me as if I’d grown two more heads.
“This is the River Styx, isn’t it?”
“How would you know?” Her words were clipped, all made of sharp edges.
I tried to laugh it off. “Well, I’ve read a few stories…”
I expected her to smile, to laugh, even. But she only snorted. And this time, there was nothing cute in the sound, nothing endearing. She turned her back to me.
She lined herself up with a series of boulders that dotted the river and I finally understood what it was she intended to do.