Charon Unguarded (Ferryman Saga Book 1) Read online

  ‘Oi! You! Yes, you, with the horns and the flashy green coat. Put that out or go outside!’ The demon scowled at him and mooched out into the drizzle, clearly wishing he was able let the door to slam behind it. So that the emphasis of his departure wasn’t lost, the demon gave it a cloven-footed kick on the way out. The door shook in the frame and the diagonal crack in one corner grew another inch. Charon turned to the room at large. ‘Can you please not do that thing with the furniture? There are cameras in here. How am I supposed to explain to the Council why the foyer was suddenly changed into what can at best be described as a Turkish harem, in full view of the public?’

  ‘Not our problem, chummy. While his nibs is up there, we might as well be comfortable down here.’ He made himself comfortable on a long chaise, upholstered in gold Damask. It was quite a sight. ‘I reckon he doesn’t even realise we still exist when he’s swanning off on his jollies.’ Some of the others grumbled their agreement then returned to their card game. Charon saw their point. Hades pretty much ignored him until he wanted something too.

  Charon sighed. ‘Fine. Just keep the noise down. I have work to do.’ Arguing seemed pointless. This lot just didn’t care. He stomped off toward the kitchenette for a fresh cup of tea. From the back of the room, he heard another click of a cheap lighter, ‘And smoke outside!’ he shouted without turning around to see who it was. Charon considered asking them to at least tone the room down to a milder level of … what was the best descriptor? He fished around his memory for something that would adequately cover the level of tasteless extravagance currently in his lobby but decided the concept of ‘subtlety’ wouldn’t register with them anyway. What was wrong with grey? Wasn’t monochrome the height of fashion again or some such nonsense?

  His thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of stragglers who demanded that he escort them up himself. It’s something to do I suppose. He stood by the lift buttons and held the doors open. As they went up, he pondered again why Zeus and his brothers had been invited. Zeus was never one to share power, and Charon would have paid his weight in gold to see Zeus’s face when he received a summons to assemble. Hades too. Those three and their ‘honour’. A being like Ra ordering them about was going to grate on their nerves and the results would be entertaining to say the least.

  The only other beings brave enough to issue orders to those three were the Council. That was a thought. Where are the Council reps? If the Council hadn't called this meeting, did they even know about it? They were supposed to be notified of all cross-pantheon meetings so they could send a representative.

  After he’d escorted the stragglers to the right room, he switched on the cameras in that room and listened in from the second-floor reception desk. Their bickering would be something to laugh over with Hermes later and he was quite looking forward to that pint now. Ra had not gone in yet – he was still preening himself in the wall mirror outside the conference room – but Charon would bet money he was listening to every word they said before he went in. He was waiting to make as showy an entrance as possible.

  Sure enough, Ra went for showy. Both doors opened at once, and he strolled in with one hand in his pocket, his shirt sleeves rolled to the elbow and his jacket hooked on one finger over his shoulder. He reminded Charon of a 1980s’ catalogue model.

  ‘Gentlemen, Ladies. Welcome. Have we all arrived? Splendid.’ The room was packed. Every chair around a dust-covered meeting table had been taken and those who had not arrived on time to take a seat hovered behind, shifting their weight from foot to foot, and trying hard not to look impatient.

  ‘Why have we been dragged here, Ra? We are not puppets to have our strings pulled! You know the law. Only the Council has the authority to summon us like this,’ a gravelly voice demanded. Its owner, Zeus, occupied the chair at the head of the long table and was leaning back, with his expensive loafer-clad feet on the table. Ra ignored the deliberate insult of refusing to give up his seat to an older god. It wasn’t the law, but it had long been custom to show respect to the elders of other Pantheons.

  Charon held his breath as Ra sauntered across the floor between the hoard of irritable gods and the algae encrusted window. He clearly enjoyed holding the attention of the room.

  ‘I quite understand.’ His voice remained calm and level. He gave a half smile which did not meet his eyes. ‘I know very well who each of you are and where your loyalties lie. I am also certain that you need no introductions to one another.’ He walked to the window. ‘I am sorry to disappoint you, but grudges and scores will not be dealt with here or now.’ Staring out over the field to watch the train pass in the distance. ‘I invite you here for one reason alone; to give you notice to tidy your affairs. Settle your arguments and make what peace you can before we leave. I have found a way home.’

  CHAPTER 2

  The Pub

  The room erupted with complaints.

  Outside and down the corridor, Charon frowned at the monitor. It was an awkward angle to observe from. All he could see were the tops of people’s heads, which meant he couldn’t see their expressions. He turned up the volume on the earpiece he was wearing.

  ‘What are you blathering about, Ra?’ The same gravelly voice as before cut through a chorus of voices all trying to drown out the others.

  Ra turned his emotionless pale gold eyes on the speaker then observed the rest of the table shrinking back from him. Hades, who was lounging back in his chair paring his nails, raised an eyebrow, ‘Let our friend speak, brother. His presumption is proving most entertaining.’

  ‘Friend? He is no friend of mine! He is a pretender; all pomp but no substance. He is no better than the foul usurper who stole our homes and sent us here to rot.’

  ‘Well, this ‘pretender’ is tired,’ Ra replied calmly. He sounded almost bored. Like what he said was of no real consequence to any of them. Even Charon was shocked. One thing he was sure about was that the Council had most definitely not approved this meeting! Zeus had confirmed that much. Should he tell them? If they found out and he hadn’t told them, there would be hell to pay. He stared back at the security screen, trying to stop his hands shaking and heart racing.

  ‘Pardon? You bring us all the way here because you are …’tired’?’ the sibilant voice of Quetzalcoatl asked. ‘What does this have to do with us? Has it not occurred to you that some of us travelled quite some distance to get here? We expect a lot more in the way of explanation than that.’ The camera view switched angles and Charon saw his face. He was still recognisable. The feathers might be gone but there was still something snake-like about him in the eyes and nose. It gave him the creeps.

  ‘In short, I intend to fulfil my promise to Osiris. The earth will return to its primordial form, the lands will flood, and I shall take my place by his side as Amun. You have a year to tidy your affairs, inform your subordinates, and prepare yourselves to leave this realm.’

  ‘What of the mortals?’ someone asked from the back of the room.

  ‘What of them?’ Ra shrugged. ‘I understand that a few of you have made yourselves comfortable here, even become fond of them, and it is unfortunate they will become collateral damage, but this will only work once. It’s one out, all out and I place rather more importance on my survival than theirs. That is all.’ With that, he left the room. There was dead silence while the door was left to close quietly behind him.

  Charon had heard every word and having watched the exchange on the security monitor, knew Ra was coming so ducked behind the desk. This would mean the end of this realm. Not just gods but mortals too. He did not want to be caught eavesdropping, but this news was grave indeed. He needed more than a pint to deal with this news. His exit seemed a little anticlimactic to Charon. After delivering news like that the least Ra could have offered was a good hard door slam.

  * * *

  It was coming up to eight in the evening. Charon sat nursing his sixth pint and was considering giving up and going home. The pub was silent bar the faint noise from the traffic outside,
and the quiet chink of glasses behind the bar. Charon sat at a table which gave him a clear view of the door and had waited there for the better part of two hours. He’d been staring into space for the duration and was beginning to get funny looks from the barman. The pub was one of those normally only frequented by old men and people who drank before lunchtime, with décor that suggested that it hadn’t been updated since 1970. The door opened letting in a burst of traffic noise and cold wind. Charon peered over his narrow glasses, ready to give a menacing scowl to the inconsiderate sod who was letting all the warm air out. It wasn’t Hermes. If he’s not here in the next ten minutes, I am going home … via the chippy. He pulled his coat tighter around his shoulders and thought of chunky chips with gravy, and crispy, golden batter while he waited for the pub to get warm again.

  Hermes arrived in the nick of time in his usual, disgustingly happy mood.

  ‘What time do you call this?’

  ‘About eight o’clock, bud. Why, what time do you call it?’

  ‘I call it you being late.’ Charon downed the rest of his pint and stomped off to the bar to get his friend a drink as well as a new one for himself.

  When he returned Hermes looked at him, as if trying to spot signs of an imposter. It was quite unnerving to be looked at by Hermes. For a start he didn’t blink, ever. Whether it was something he had never gotten the hang of, or he hadn’t bothered to learn, it gave Charon chills. It was too much like facing one of the souls he’d had to carry across the Styx so long ago. Only this one was chatty.

  ‘What? Look, can you not do that!?’

  Hermes didn’t stop. ‘Bud, you’re as white as a sheet, I mean, more than normal.’

  ‘I used to be a mythically animated skeleton. I would have thought that this is an improvement.’ He spread his hands and gestured to his very human body.

  ‘True. What’s the matter?’

  ‘I listened in.’

  While clearing up the beer Hermes had sprayed over the table, Charon explained what happened at the meeting, who was there, what was said, and even how he’d had to hide behind the second-floor security desk to dodge Ra.

  ‘Well, that’s a surprise. I’d never have taken you for such a daredevil.’ Hermes grinned.

  ‘What? Is that all you can say?’

  ‘You’ve always been Mr Follow the Rules to my knowledge. Have you got any idea what Ra would have done if you had been caught? He doesn’t mess around. One step wrong and it’s …’ Hermes drew one finger across his throat.

  ‘He calls himself ‘Ray’ here.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘Hermes, what is the worst he could do to me? He has no authority here, at least not over me. It’s in ‘The Rules’. You know, the same ones that said none of us may undo the works of another, though I have always thought that was a stupid rule. I think Zeus made that one up to be aggravating. Anyway, that’s not the point.’

  ‘No?

  ‘We’re talking about the end of the world here. You, me, humanity, everyone. I think this is slightly more important than whether that preening adolescent spotted me eavesdropping. Look who was at the meeting.’ He pulled out a crumpled photocopy of the original list. Hermes stared at it in his usual disconcerting way.

  ‘I’ve got to be honest, bud, I just don’t see the link.’

  Charon sighed. Persuading Hermes to grasp the gravity of a situation had always been a challenge. Information appeared to flow from his ear to brain at roughly the speed of custard. This was going to take some time. ‘Despite the rules, Ra only invited those who don’t have the power or influence to stop him. Even back when we were at the height of our influence, Ra could beat or match everyone on that list.’ He jabbed at the paper in front of him with one grey finger.

  ‘You make it sound like some divine game of Top Trumps.’ Hermes laughed until Charon saw the familiar faint blue of his own normally impassive blue eyes reflected back at him from the smeary window in the door behind Hermes. The look had done its job; it was a silent signal to Hermes that he was skating on some very thin ice and it was starting to creak.

  ‘Can you be serious for five minutes? Just try, hmm? Anyway, these guys no longer have the strength of collective belief behind them they used to, and look, Odin’s been scrubbed off. See. Here?’ He pointed at the hastily highlighted line which had been scrubbed out by hand. ‘Why?’

  ‘Off the top of my head? Odin pissed him off. Besides he and the Aesir have never had time for Ra’s lot. Maybe he objected to being summoned and told Ra where to shove his invitation.’

  ‘Could be,’ Charon stared at the remains of his pint. It didn’t make sense. Why now? Ra had seemed content to live among the mortals for centuries. Why would he suddenly be discontent? He’d been as rich as Midas since he had managed to orchestrate the looting of his own temples and monuments. Of course, he’d been extremely careful to make sure it didn’t all go back to his own vaults, not directly at any rate. Vaults? Who needs more than one? Ra’s reasoning had been that since the money and treasures had already been dedicated to him, they were technically his to take. It wasn’t like he was taking the offerings to other gods.

  ‘Why are you so worried, Charon?’

  ‘Because if Ra is permitted to do this, the human plane of existence goes with it. Kaput. Poof! Gone! He said it can only be done once so it’s probably devastating.’

  ‘Surely you are not attached to the meat puppets? Zeus made them because he was bored and needed something to exorcise his frustrations. Though, personally, I believe Prometheus’s side of it.’ He laughed. ‘Zeus was only angry because Prometheus thought of it first but giving them fire then sitting back to see what they did with it? Comic genius! Aristophanes himself could not have done better!’

  ‘Why should I not be?’ Charon snapped, ‘It was me that had to ferry them to their end. Not all of them were happy to go, either, and I got them all you know, the murderers and murdered, the infants who did not survive birth and those who were abandoned on hillsides. I saw the worst and the best. For puppets, they have potential.’

  ‘I know what you saw, I had to take them to meet you — remember, it’s how we met. Surely, that should be enough to make you wash your hands of them?’

  ‘They grew. They learned. It’s us that didn’t change. Now, for the most part, they care for their young and their vulnerable.’

  ‘Not all of them.’

  ‘No, not all, but enough. They were never our puppets anyway, no matter what Zeus and Prometheus claim. They’re both liars in that respect. They evolved despite us, not because of us. A balance for our own immortality. The creator gods might take the credit for them, but they never would acknowledge their own limitations because their egos would never allow it. They know as well as we do that mortal life forms were an unknown quantity. They just know that most of us don’t have the guts to contradict them.’

  ‘Go on?’ Hermes sat back in his chair and folded his arms. He was clearly not buying his line of argument.

  Charon pressed on, ‘How many times have they tried to destroy them and remake them for some slight or other?’

  ‘More times than I can count.’ Hermes took another swig. ‘Is this going somewhere?’

  ‘I’m getting there.’ Charon glowed at him again.

  ‘Okay, okay, carry on.’

  ‘Thank you. One question seemed to irk Zeus more than any other. Why would any of the so-called creator gods create flawed beings only to punish them for the flaws they were created with?’

  ‘Your point being? The creator gods are a bunch of petulant kids! How long has it taken you to work that one out?’

  ‘My point is that even that psycho, Yahweh, had to come up with excuses as to why his favoured creations were not behaving.’

  ‘Well, he never was quite right in the head, that one. A bit too starry if you ask me. Inclined to stand that little bit too close and, by gods, did he get touchy if he thought someone was treading on his turf. There we all were, sitting pretty until s
ome bleeding Roman wins a battle, and suddenly, we are all out on our arses. Who made that bridge bet?’

  ‘Dionysus, it was a messy night, but it wasn’t as simple as that and you know it,’ Charon said. ‘If I remember rightly, you were there too, egging them on. It was right before Dionysus headbutted Baal.’

  ‘Was that the night when …?’

  ‘When you and Di got stinking drunk with a pair of nymphs and decided to go skinny-dipping in the Styx … Yes, it was.’

  ‘Yeah, well, Yahweh wound us up, and the others are just plain scary. Some of those saints aren’t all that saintly either. Ra will be doing us and them a massive favour by getting us home and I will be first in line to punch Yahweh in the face.’

  ‘Will he really be doing you a favour, old friend? And nobody is going to be punching anyone!’

  ‘Okay. Some of them are a laugh, I suppose, but this eternity thing is getting boring. I am stuck doing the same job as before. So are you, for that matter, but the creepy doorman thing seems to suit you.’

  ‘Thanks,’ Charon said.

  ‘You’re welcome. Look, neither of us has the power we used to have, and even my helm has stopped working. The best I can manage now is vaguely translucent and so much for my speed. I had one role then, and one role now, and it's dull. I’ve had enough.’

  ‘The Council put a block on your helmet because you were using it to spy on the Vestal virgins in the shower.’ He took a slow swig of beer. ‘You might not see the point, but I can’t let Ra make that choice for us all. It must be a group decision. His time has been and gone. I don’t get why he can’t go back on his own? It’s always all or nothing with him. Another thing to remember, Herm, is that when we were in our powers, you had the freedom to move around and have your own life. Not all of us did, and some of us are not ready to leave the party. We have to stop him.’