Chapter 11 - Eros

Eros stretched in satisfaction as he flew. Making sure the suitors couldn't be as captivated by Psyche as he'd been brought him an unexpected peace. Now, he just needed to find Hermes and finalize his plan.

But even for an experienced tracker like Eros, Hermes was too speedy to easily spot using just second sight. When he was unable to instantly track down his friend, Eros swooped in to Hermes's temple-of-choice. The imposing shrine overflowed with gold and marble statutes cast in the young god's likeness. Eros trontted up the stairs and toward the main chamber. In the far corner of the temple, one of the priests was removing the remnants of a meal and carting away a half-drunk pitcher of wine.

"You!" Eros barked. The priest dropped the ceramic pitcher. The crack as it exploded against the marble floor was tampered only by the dull splash of un-drunk wine. "Where's your master?"

"He ju--ju--just left," the priest stammered.

"Where?" Eros growled. His newly-found tranquility was now as shattered as the pitcher. He had a deadline after all. Not that King Darion would reach Delphi for a few days, but if his plan wasn't set before then, it'd be too late.

"I don't know, my Lord. He got called away to escort an important shade to Underworld, but I don't know who it is that died, or where."

"Damn!" Eros kicked at a chunk of pitcher, sending more wine spraying.

"If I may be so bold, you might try waiting at the Alcyonian Lake. Hermes will have to boring the shade there to catch a ferry to the Underworld."

Eros clenched his jaw and spoke through gritted teeth. "I don't have time to wait."

Dropping his head, the priest mumbled, "Of course, my Lord."

"You're excused now." Eros exhaled. It was true: he didn't have time to wait. But since his second sight wasn't working, he didn't have other options either.

When he arrived, the shores of the lake were empty. Eros couldn't tell whether Hermes had come and gone, or if he still had yet to arrive. For the remainder of the daym, Eros paced along the bank, still scanning unsuccessfully for Hermes. The descending sun pulled a misty blanket in its wake, covering the lake in a thick, hazy shroud of fog.

In the comfort of the night, Eros kneeled on the shore ans cupped the cool water in his hand. The liquid slipped back through his long fingers as he moved them slowly apart. He absentmindedly dipped his hand and strained the water several more times, deciding whether it would be safe to take a drink.

The Alcyonian Lake fed the rivers flowing into Hades, but did the waters flow back out? Sure, he'd heard rumors that once you drank from the lake, you'd be condemned to Underworld, but Eros was immortal. The water couldn't possibly hurt him. Beside, the late spring afternoon had been hot. Unseasonably hot.

Eros dipped his cupped hands into the pool. He pursed his lips together to sip, when a cracked voice called out from the misty darkness.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Eros dropped the water back into the lake reflexively. "Of course, I'm not you, so drink up." The voice cackled out a series of gruff laughs that gave way to a fit of coughing.

Eros squinted into the haze, wishing his eyesight were better at night. He wasn't afraid, but his skin still crawled with an eerie prickle.

As Eros stared into the fog, he began to make out the skeletal figure of a ferryman coming closer. The ancient man's skin stretched across his bones, unsupported by muscle or meat. His long nose protruded from his face like a hooked beak, while his eyes sunk into their sockets. A mess of grayish hair, caked with sweat and grime, clung to the sides of his bony scalp. With great effort, the man plunged his staff into the water ahead, sinking into the soft bottom of the lake, and lurching the ferry forward.

Eros had never met Charon before, but this had to be him. The ferryman of Hades, who moved souls from the shores of life into the depths of the Underworld. For a small fee of course. Nothing in life -- or death -- was free.

"Where's your coin, boy?" Charon called out.

Boy? Had Charon just called him boy? Eros rose up to his full height and spread his wings behind him. The show of bravado only made Charon laugh again.

"You'd better take care who you mock, old man."

"Or what? There's nothing you can do to me. You gods need me."

"Fool. The gods don't need you." Eros took a step closer, daring the old man not to back down. "I don't need you."

"Ha! If I didn't ferry the dead down to Hades, your precious earth would be overrun with shades. What would become of your playground then? I'd like to see you try to woo a woman with all of her dead family standing around watching."

Charon cackled again, and then his thin, pale lips curled into a smile. "Besides, boy, you do need something from me. Some information, perhaps?"

Eros glared at Charon. He kept his gaze icy while trying to assess whether he could ask about Hermes. Charon held his stare, refusing to look away.

"Go on, boy, ask me. Ask me what you want to know."

"What will it cost me?"

"So you are clever. Never mind my fee this time. Your mother will be paying my toll soon enough."

Eros lunged at the old ferryman. "How dare you threaten my mother's life."

Charon pulled away, faster than Eros had given him credit for, and Eros splashed into the lake, soaking the ends of his tunic.

"It's no threat, boy. There's no force on Earth or Olympus that could kill that woman. But I expect she'll be sending someone my way soon enough, and that will be all the fee I require."

"You collect gold, not souls," Eros accused. He didn't trust Charon or his promise to answer a question for free.

"I could build a staircase to Olympus with all the coins I've collected. What can they buy me? Can they buy me freedom from this unending toil?
Can they buy me repose in a magnificent palace? Can they buy me the love of a beautiful woman?"

Eros suddenly saw the human frailty of Charon. A weakness he could exploit. Of course, like everyone else, Charon wanted love, didn't he?

"Is it love you want? You needn't wait for my mother. Just ask me."

Charon broke out into his coughing laugh again, practically choking himself. His full weight bore down on the staff as he struggled to keep from falling over. Charon finally coughed out, "Love? Love is for fools, boy. I've just tired of seeing the shades of the old, decrepit and diseased. I want a face to light up the gloom. The face..."

The weight of Charon's words crushed into Eros's chest. "You will not have Psyche."

"You can't stop your mother, boy. She'll send Psyche to the Underworld one way or another. You mark my words."

"I'll make you pay for those words," Eros snarled from behind clenched teeth.

"Your mother already has paid for them," Charon replied. "And so now

I'll answer your question. Hermes isn't here. He hasn't come this way yet. Of course, I do expect him in the next two, three, maybe even four days."

Eros stared at Charon in steely silence, his fists clenched into tight balls at his side. He struggled to keep his breathing at an even pace while fighting the urge to tear Charon's head off of it puny neck.

"I see you've grown tired of my visit," Charon said. "Perhaps I better take my leave."

With a few swift strokes of his staff, Charon dissolved into the mist.

Chapter end