Charon Unguarded (Ferryman Saga Book 1) Page 3

  ‘What are you proposing?’ Hermes frowned. ‘Just supposing for one delusory moment that you even managed to figure out a way to stop him, what about the rest of us? You can’t just speak for us all any more than Ra can.’ Hermes sat quietly for a moment. ‘I’m tired too, dude. Never ageing or changing, and not being able to stay anywhere for more than ten years or people start asking awkward questions, having to keep our heads down all the time. Not to mention the lies and the secrets we need just to maintain a believable backstory.’ Hermes finished his fourth pint and signalled the barman for another two, ignoring the disapproving expression of the student with the spiky green hair behind the bar. He seemed both amazed that either of them was still upright, let alone sober and disgusted that he was expected to do something other than play with his phone.

  ‘I get it, Charon, I really do, but I can’t carry on like this much longer either. I’ll probably take my chances and head off when the opportunity comes but assuming that Ra quits – which won’t happen without a fight – and if you somehow get Ra to spare you and the mortals, and anyone else who wants to stay, what happens when you do decide you have had enough? What if there really is no way back for you? Look, I need another pint and that barman doesn’t seem to get the idea of table service. Want one?’ Charon nodded his silent agreement.

  While Hermes went to the bar, Charon considered what he had said. He had no intention of forcing anyone to stay who did not want to, but he didn’t see why it had to mean the end of the world. Ra had no right to decide for them, but he had not considered that there might be consequences for stopping Ra either. It could well be a go now or stay forever situation, but was it? There were too many questions which just led to other questions. He racked his brains trying to remember the actual wording of Ra’s promise. It prophesied the world being swallowed by the ocean or some such melodramatic nonsense. He moved on to the next part of the prophecy.

  ‘After I change myself back into a serpent …’ he muttered.

  ‘What was that?’ Hermes had returned to their table and was taking a long swig from his fresh pint. ‘Can you believe the price of this stuff? Where is Dionysus when you need him!?’

  ‘I was just trying to remember the exact wording of the promise. It’s been so long.’

  ‘Well that’s a relief, I thought you had flipped.’

  ‘Something about him changing back to his true ’unseeable’ form. Does that mean invisible or just that no man was worthy to look at him? Damn! Why do they always have to speak in riddles?’

  ‘Kicks. It confuses the hell out of the mortals and that is always fun.’

  ‘Well, it definitely mentions the end of creation, that means all of us, and knowing Ra it will be messy … and painful.’ Charon was thinking aloud now.

  ‘What does this have to do with our current problem?’

  ‘It means that if we know what he has planned then he is stoppable,’ Charon said.

  ‘Working on the assumption that we want to stop him. And when did this become a ‘we’ situation?’

  ‘Back on that again, are we? I think he can be stopped, and it goes back to this list. You might be right. We might not be able to stop him, but we may be able to persuade him to adjust his plan.’

  ‘To what?’

  ‘To only go himself, or only take those who are willing to go with him by their own choice.’

  ‘This is the head honcho of the Egyptian pantheon. One of the oldest mythical families on record. We must do as he says. By age alone they outrank us—’

  ‘Ah, but according to the rules of the council, they don’t outrank us. He is bound by the same rules we are, which is probably why he hasn’t bothered to let the Council know.’

  ‘Ra’s as likely to change his mind as Zeus is to join a hippy commune. Remember what that lot used to demand of their slaves?’

  ‘I have to try. The worst he can do is sling me out of his office. He’s survived for this long so he must get the idea of negotiation.’

  They stared at each other across the table. Charon knew he hadn’t persuaded Hermes that even attempting to stop Ra was a good idea. Could he be certain he had his friend’s support to make Ra’s plan at least a little less devastating?

  CHAPTER 3

  The First Warning

  The door slammed shut behind him as Charon shed his coat and threw his key into the bowl by the door. He flicked the lights on and the room was filled with a dingy yellow-brown light. Christ, this place is a dump. Every surface was covered with the general detritus of life; unopened post, ancient copies of the Racing Post and screwed up betting slips, and clean laundry yet to be put away, but he was never the domestic type. Ever since Hel, the former queen of Nilfheim, had upped and left him, he’d just not seen the point. Why bother clearing up, when he had no one to share the space with? He’d told her every day that he loved her but had realised all too late that words were not enough. He had no neighbours, no one to miss him, or even complain about how he always slammed the front door behind him.

  One of the many drawbacks of being a lower level deity, in the mortal world, was that the higher-ups still got to boss him around. When they’d been made to cross over, the higher-ranking gods had insisted the living conditions of their mortal forms should reflect their previous stations. There was to be no social-climbing for them, oh no. In fairness, Hades had eventually spoken for him and the Council had reluctantly allowed Charon to pick a human form, on the provision that he didn’t tell anyone else or all the Underworld denizens would want one. Living rent free was all well and good but why did it have to be here? He was luckier than those lower down than him. Many of them had never seen daylight. He felt another pang of regret for Aken. Had Hades not spoken up he, too, would have suffered the same fate.

  He couldn’t see much of a difference between his situation then and what he had to put up with now though. He was still stuck working for Hades, and through him, Zeus. Every time he’d tried to move on and got a job offer elsewhere, a few days later, a letter would arrive saying they were sorry that he had chosen to decline their offer, but should he decide to apply again in the future, they would be delighted to hear from him. He had suspected Hades had a hand in that but couldn’t prove it.

  Now he was stuck in an abandoned Victorian terrace in the shadow of the railway bridge. Like the Styx, it was cold, dank, smelled weird, and had things growing on the walls that didn’t bear thinking about. Even when Hel was with him he’d not been great at the domestic side of things. He’d just left it for Hel, he’d just assumed she would be happy to run around picking up after him. How he’d taken her for granted. No wonder she had left him. Even after three decades, he missed her. If he knew where she was, and begged, would she ever come back to him? Unlikely, she despised weakness in all its forms and she would see through him in an instant.

  He sank into the dusty sofa and opened the paper wrapping of his dinner, allowing the warm and comforting smell of batter, grease, salt, and vinegar to fill the air. That was another thing he had struggled to get used to. The need to eat, drink and sleep. It had soon become unnervingly apparent that in the mortal realm immortality was not the same as invulnerability. Many had refused to adapt to mortal needs, adamant that compromise was a weakness. They had been the first to fade, especially if their stories had passed from memory. Charon was not so easily beaten. He had been around since the first mortal had passed on, springing from the collective imagination of humanity, and appointed himself gatekeeper: a guardian of the dead. Why had he done nothing when Zeus and the others took over? The short answer was that he didn’t want the job himself. Too much hassle. It was easier to just keep his head down, not draw attention to himself, and not make a fuss.

  Charon sighed. He had been such a pushover then and now he didn’t have the first idea how to broach the subject with Ra. Ra had no right to issue orders to him, but nor did he have any obligation to listen. What’s the worst he could do to me? That was an easy one. Ra could throw him out of the
building with a thought … via the window.

  This was not a pleasant prospect, but he could not sit and do nothing, not again. It would not just be the gods who suffered from Ra’s high-handedness but humans too. They had suffered already due to the games of the gods. Their egos and conflicts had repercussions which never seemed to touch them in the way it touched humans. While they had been expelled from their former home after Yahweh had won that stupid bet, and kicked them all out, it had not been the sole reason for their exile.

  If a mortal was found worshipping a rival, or disparaging them, woe betide them. Hippolytus found that out the hard way when he got caught in that squabble between Artemis and Aphrodite, and his poor step-mother was used as a pawn in the process. We deserve to fade away, but the mortals? They are stuck. They have one home and Ra plans to destroy it and them with it just so that he can go home. It cannot be allowed. Not this time.

  As he passed through the kitchen on the way up to the bathroom he hurled the paper from his meal at the bin, not caring if it hit its target. Maybe he should talk to Odin? His name had been scrubbed off the list for a reason, and it would be interesting to find out why. As he brushed his teeth he considered his options. Odin stood no more chance of being receptive than Ra did. One thing was certain: he dared not go via Hades or his brothers. That would give away his little indiscretion straight away and he would never find out anything. He wondered when he had become such a coward. ‘I’m thinking like Hermes now.’

  Talking to yourself again, old man. Never a good sign.

  He glanced at his phone to check the time and noticed he had a message. Assuming it was spam as only Hades, and now Hermes, had his number he waited for his phone to wake up, so he could delete it and block the number. ‘Bloody spammers!’ he muttered as he fumbled with the screen. Eventually his phone responded, and he held it at arm’s length to focus properly on the screen. Nobody had warned him that his choice for a mature human form came with aches, pains, and failing eyesight. Trust the gods to come up with that one. Zeus probably thought it was funny, but he still looked no more than thirty. Finally, the message opened.

  ‘Your involvement in this matter is neither required nor welcome. If you continue to interfere, your position will become very uncomfortable.’

  Oh crap! How had he been found out? Looking for the sender’s number he saw it was withheld. He thought that Hermes might be able to help him find out who sent it, but not right now. There was now a bigger question in the air. How did whoever sent this know what he knew, not to mention what he was considering? Some of his thoughts are in italics and some are in single quotes just pointing this out here, it should be consistent throughout. Another example next para. Will not mention again.

  He had only spoken to Hermes about this. Had Hermes said something? Charon shook himself. No. Hermes was his friend. In thousands of years, he had never given him any reason to distrust him. Even after losing touch for, what was it, a century plus some change? Hermes was solid, at least where he was concerned, and it was good to have his friend back. Why would he betray him? There was nothing to gain from that. One thing was for sure. Someone had said something to someone and whoever that someone was, they were not happy. Out of sheer pique over being told what to do, he decided that first thing tomorrow he was going to march into Ra’s office and confront him over both his ‘plan’ and over that message.

  CHAPTER 4

  An Unwelcome Guest

  The waiting room at Ra’s office was not much better than the foyer where Charon worked. The carpets were serviceable, the walls appeared to have been recently painted, but the furniture was worn and threadbare. The room was empty of people bar the receptionist, an austere-looking woman who appeared to be in her late forties but looks could be deceiving when dealing with the Gods and their associates. Her desk was placed very deliberately between the entrance and the waiting room. She looked sternly at him over her horn-rimmed cats’-eye spectacles from which trailed a string of what looked like glass beads. He saw her take his measure and find him lacking.

  ‘Good morning, Mr Charon.’

  Well that’s creepy. He had not made an appointment, let alone met this woman before. Her voice had a slight Nubian lilt. Was she one of them? She clearly knew who he was which meant that he was at an immediate disadvantage. How had they known he was coming?

  ‘I’m here to speak with your employer. No, I don’t have an appointment, and before you ask, it’s a confidential matter, so don’t even bother,’ Charon snapped. He generally had little time for receptionists.

  ‘Well, we are in a bad mood this morning, aren’t we? If you will take a seat, I will see if he can fit you in …’

  ‘I’m not asking, Miss …’

  ‘Hathor. Since we have never met, I will forgive your disrespect. Once. I admire your directness, but please do not mistake me for a mere desk clerk again.’ She was now, inexplicably, standing face to face with him, smiling, but it was not a friendly smile and it did not meet her eyes. It was more like a snarl. He tried to shake the foggy feeling that was settling over him. ‘Take a seat, Mr Charon.’ With that, she wove her way around the furniture toward the office.

  His watch told him it was now quarter past one. ‘Okay, but I don’t have long. I have …’ Then she was gone.

  So, that was Hathor. On the scale of terrifying women, she had to be up there with Hera, but on the upside, at least she hadn’t vaporised him. He looked up and she had gone. Had he heard the door close? He sighed as he realised the room had deliberately been laid out to place obstacles between visitors and the office door. After using the vending machine to produce a tiny cup of a scalding hot, bitter, tar-like substance which claimed to be coffee, and dropping said cup in the bin, he selected a chair next to the table with the magazines. He flicked through the pile and found, to his disgust, that they were all about management consultancy, and how to squeeze the most out of a workforce stopping only a fraction short of shackling people to desks, cracking whips or drawing blood. As far as Charon was concerned, the only people less productive than management consultants were restaurant critics, but at least they took you out for dinner before screwing you.

  Next to the pile was a plastic holder for business cards. It was nearly empty and at some point someone had attempted to tape over a crack. Like everything else in the room, the tape had begun to turn yellow and curl up at the edges. More decay. ‘We cling, and we cling, and around us everything crumbles.’ He pocketed a card. So much for marching in and having it out with him.

  He glanced at the clock. He then checked his watch. That was weird. Forty minutes had passed but he would have sworn that he had been waiting no longer than ten. What had happened to the time? Charon shivered. He was used to feeling that time passed quickly for him, but that was merely a matter of perception. Here it was actually passing more quickly. More importantly, he was going to be late for work and that would be noticed. Well, he was here now. He had thought about calling in sick but nobody would believe that. Doing so now would raise some uncomfortable questions. He hadn’t booked a day off or taken a sick day in ten centuries.

  ‘Mr Charon,’ the velvety voice of Hathor broke the silence. ‘Ra will see you now. You have ten minutes.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Charon made his way across the room and had to slow down. The floor felt wrong. Insubstantial. The door was only a few meters from him, but somehow it was both closer and further away at the same time. This was worse than being drunk and it made him feel sick. Hopefully, it would not be necessary to come here again. The door opened by itself and shut behind him. He glanced back in time to see Hathor back at her desk as if she had never left it.

  Ra did not seem pleased to see him. ‘Good morning, Mr Charon.’ The office reflected the waiting room. The wallpaper was peeling under the tiny window near the ceiling above Ra’s chair. ‘I am given to understand you have something private to discuss with me. So great it seems was your need, that you appear to have forgotten to pay due respect to both
me and to my assistant. Before we begin this discussion, let me make it clear that after today, you will not come here again.’

  Suspicion confirmed. Here goes nothing. ‘I can’t let you do it.’

  Ra said nothing. He leant forwards in his chair and rested his elbows on the desk. His golden eyes shone despite the lack of light in the room but gave away nothing of his mood. In earlier days, he could have swept Charon away with a thought. Unfortunately, Ra’s vanity appeared to have survived his weakening powers, but the mark of human belief had left its mark on him. The bridge of his nose was just a little too high and wide to be wholly human and there was something very birdlike in his mannerisms. It made Charon’s skin crawl, but he still tried to stare Ra down.

  ‘Let me?’ Ra laughed. ‘Let me? You appear to be labouring under the assumption that you can stop me.’ The laughter left his face as quickly as it had appeared, and his voice became hard.

  No one who could switch moods that fast should be tangled with.

  ‘Let me dispossess you of that idea now.’ Ra gestured to a spot in front of his desk. While he had no power over Charon, obedience appeared to be the prudent choice, so he followed the instruction.

  Ra was used to getting his own way, but not this time. ‘You are talking about ending the world because you’re bored. You’ve had enough so you’re shutting up shop and turning out the lights and dragging the rest of us out along with you. Had it not occurred to you that some of us aren’t ready to quit? You cannot just decide for us.’

  ‘You go too far, Charon.’ Ra’s eyes flared again.

  Back off, old man.

  ‘Do not think I have not considered my actions. I advise you to remember your place.’

  ‘Why now? You’ve lived around humans for centuries now. Why suddenly quit now?’ He shifted his weight from one foot to the other and tried not to look away. That stare was really making him feel uneasy. Two can play that game. Charon glowed back at him.