Hades

9 Lake of Dreams

EVERY day that passed without news of Venus Cove added to my misery.

I could think of nothing but what I was missing in the lives of those I loved. I knew they must be frantic with worry. Had they guessed where Jake had taken me or were they ready to file a missing person’s report? I knew if I were held hostage anywhere on earth, the divine powers of my siblings would track me down. But I had no idea if their radars could reach deep into the core of the earth. When I thought about my family, I remembered the simplest things; the way my brother used to experiment in the kitchen, handling food as though it were art; the way my sister used to braid my hair with a skill only she possessed. I thought of Gabriel’s hands and the way they could make any instrument bow to his will and Ivy’s river of golden hair. Mostly I thought of Xavier; the way his eyes crinkled gently at the corners whenever he smiled; the smell of his car after we’d eaten burgers and fries in the Chevy overlooking the ocean. Although I’d only been gone a few days, I grieved for every moment that passed. Worst of all was that I knew Xavier would be blaming himself and I couldn’t do anything to ease his guilt.

Time became my biggest enemy in Hades. On earth it had been so precious because I didn’t know when it would run out, but here it was drawn out and immeasurable. The tedium was the hardest to bear. Not only was I a prisoner in Jake’s soulless world, I was also an angel in Hell and treated with either scorn or morbid curiosity by its elite. Most of the time I felt like a sideshow freak. There was something about the place that seemed to eat at me from the inside like a cancer. It was easy to give into it — stop thinking, stop fighting — and I could I feel it happening to me. I was terrified by the idea of waking one day no longer caring about human suffering or whether I lived or died.

For days after stumbling across the lake of fire and its associated horrors, I fell into a deep depression. I had little appetite, but Hanna was patient with me. Jake’s assistant, Tucker, had been assigned as my personal minder and was always around though he rarely spoke to me. Together they became my constant companions.

They were in my room one night as usual, Hanna trying to coax me into eating a mouthful or two of the broth she’d prepared and Tucker diverting himself by crushing paper into balls and tossing them into the fireplace to watch them ignite. I pushed away Hanna’s offer of dessert and watched her face crease into a mask of stress. Tucker looked up and shook his head at her in tacit communication. Hanna let out a heavy sigh and set down the dinner tray while Tucker went back to poking the embers in the fire. I curled myself into a ball at the end of my bed. The old Bethany Church felt dead and buried. I knew I would carry the horror of what I’d seen around with me forever.

We all started when we heard the soft buzz of a key card and Jake let himself into the room. He was obviously so sure of his authority that he hadn’t felt the need to knock and was totally oblivious to having impinged on my privacy. He seemed to believe round-the-clock access to me was wholly within his rights. I saw Tucker stand up and linger self-consciously, as if he should be making himself useful, but Jake ignored him and marched over to where I lay, regarding me carefully. Unlike Tucker, I made no attempt to get up or even turn my head to face him.

“You look awful,” he observed. “I hate to say I told you so.”

“I don’t want to see you,” I said dully.

“I thought you’d understand by now that there are far worse things in this place than seeing me. Come on now, you can’t blame me for what you’ve seen. I didn’t create this place even though I may have some jurisdiction over it.”

“Do you enjoy inflicting pain and torture?” I asked in a hollow voice, looking up to meet his eyes. “Do you get off on it?”

“Steady on,” Jake sounded offended. “I personally don’t torture anyone. I have more important things to do.”

“But you know it’s happening,” I insisted. “And you do nothing about it.”

Jake shared a bemused look with Tucker, who was frowning at me as if he thought I were an idiot.

“And why on earth would I try to stop it?” he asked.

“Because they’re people,” I said weakly. It was always so exhausting talking to Jake. It left me feeling as if I were running in circles and getting nowhere.

“No, actually they’re souls of people who were very bad in life,” he explained patiently.

“Nobody deserves this — no matter what their crime.”

“Oh, really?” Jake folded his arms. “Then you have no idea what mankind is capable of. Besides, they all had the choice to repent and they chose not to. That’s how the system works.”

“Yeah, well, your system stinks. It turns good people into monsters.”

“And that,” Jake said, wagging a finger thoughtfully, “is the difference between you and me. You insist on seeing man as inherently noble even when all evidence suggests otherwise. Humans — urghh!” Jake shuddered. “What’s noble about them? They eat, they breed, they sleep, they fight — they’re nothing but basic organisms. Look what billions of them have done to the planet; their very existence is polluting the earth and you blame us for it. If humans are God’s greatest achievement, he seriously needs to review his design. Take Tucker, for instance. Why do you think I keep him around? It’s to remind me of God’s fallibility.” Tucker’s face flushed crimson but Jake seemed not to notice.

“People are much more than that,” I replied, partly to cover up Tucker’s humiliation. “They can dream and hope and love. Doesn’t that count for anything?”

“Those are usually worse off because they’re so delusional. Empty yourself of compassion, Bethany, it won’t serve you well here.”

“I’ll die before I become like you,” I said.

“I’m afraid that’s not possible,” said Jake breezily. “You can’t die here. Only the earth entertains such ridiculous notions as life and death. Another one of your father’s little quirks.”

I was spared the effort of challenging Jake further when we heard voices in the hall and a woman sailed into the room with all the aplomb of a celebrity.

“This is supposed to be my room,” I muttered. “Why do people think they can just barge in and …”

I stopped short when I gave the woman a closer look and remembered her instantly as the tattooed barmaid from Pride. It would have been hard to forget the annihilating look she’d given me then. She gave me a fleeting glance this time as if my presence were too immaterial to take up any more of her time. She was riled. I could see that in the fixed line of her mouth and the way she brusquely pushed past Tucker.

“So this is where you’ve been hiding,” she chided Jake.

“I wondered how long it’d be before you’d show up,” Jake said lazily. “You know you’re getting yourself a reputation as a stalker.”

“Shame a bad reputation don’t mean jack here,” the woman replied.

There was a derisive tone in the way he addressed her, but she seemed only amused by it. “Beth, meet Asia, my … very personal … personal assistant. She gets stressed if she doesn’t know exactly where I am at any given time.”

I sat up to get a better look at her. Asia was tall and striking like an Amazon. She was dressed provocatively in a gold halter top and a leather miniskirt. Her jet-black hair with the texture of spun wool surrounded her feline features. Her lips were exaggeratedly full, sticky with gloss, and permanently parted. The way she stood with her shoulders thrust back reminded me of a boxer, and her coffee-colored skin had a slight sheen as if it had been oiled. Her shoes were extraordinary, like works of art; fawn-colored, open-toed lace-up ankle boots with heels like ice picks.

“Jimmy Choo,” she said reading my mind. “Divine, aren’t they? Jake has them specially made for me every season.”

There was a look in her smoldering eyes I was familiar with. I’d seen girls give it to one another at school when they wanted to issue a clear warning that said, “Hands off!” Asia didn’t need to say anything to me; her look spoke volumes. As Jake’s lover she was sending me a clear message that said he was off-limits to me if I valued my life. In order to make the status of her relationship patently clear, Asia slithered around Jake like an asp at his throat, rubbing up and pressing her bare flesh against him. Jake’s hand traveled up her polished thigh, but in his eyes I was sure I could see boredom. Asia surveyed me from head to foot, decidedly unimpressed. “So, this is the little bitch everyone’s talking about? Small, isn’t she?” Jake made a clicking sound with his tongue.

“Asia — play nice.”

“I can’t see what all the fuss is about,” she said, circling me now with a panther-like grace. “If you ask me, baby, I think you’re downgradin’.”

“Well, nobody asked you.” Jake gave her a warning look. “And we talked about this; Beth is special.”

“Are you saying I’m not?” Asia put her hands on her hips and arched her eyebrows flirtatiously.

“Oh, no, you’re very special,” Jake chuckled. “But in a different way. Don’t think your talents haven’t been appreciated.”

“So what’s with the Mary Sue outfit?” Asia asked, plucking at the frilly sleeve of my dress. “You got some fetish for Southern belles? It’s very pure. That’s what this is all about, right? But did you really have to dress her like she’s twelve?”

“No one dressed me,” I snapped.

“Oh, how cute!” Asia threw me a scathing look. “It talks.”

“I was just explaining to our guest how things work down here,” Jake said, steering the conversation in a safer direction. “I was trying to explain to her how life and death have no meaning here. Would you mind assisting me in a brief demonstration?”

“With pleasure,” Asia agreed. She came to stand right in front of him and threw back her head, seductively sliding off her halter top until she stood only in a black bra, revealing the smooth milk chocolate skin of her torso. Jake’s eyes traveled appreciatively over her body for a moment, before he spun around and seized a fire poker from its hook beside the grate. I realized his intention too late and the scream caught in my throat as he plunged the thick tip into her chest. I expected howls of pain or spurting blood, anything but what I saw. Asia only gasped then shuddered with pleasure and closed her eyes in ecstasy. When she opened them and caught sight of my horror-stricken face she dissolved into laughter. The poker was buried inches deep in her chest without the slightest hint of a wound of any kind. It looked as if it had molded to her body, as if it had always been a part of her. When she grasped it with both hands and wrenched it free of her flesh, it made a gruesome sucking sound. Seconds later the smooth skin closed over the puncture the poker had created.

“See?” Asia said. “The Grim Reaper can’t touch us. He works for us.”

“But I’m not dead,” I blurted, unthinking.

Asia snatched up the poker from the floor where she’d tossed it. “Why don’t we test that out?” she hissed. She sprang at me with animal speed, but Jake was faster and intercepted her, whipping the weapon from her tight grasp. He threw her onto the couch and crouched over her, the tip of the poker pressed menacingly against her throat. Asia eye’s flashed with excitement. She bared and gnashed her teeth as she ran her hands along his hips.

“Bethany is not a toy,” Jake said, as if he were scolding a naughty child. “Try to think of her as your baby sister.” Asia held her hands palm up in defeat but couldn’t repress her expression of deep disappointment.

“You used to be so much fun.”

“Ignore her.” Jake looked at me. “She’ll get used to you in time.”

That’s if I survive, I thought bitterly. “It doesn’t make sense,” I said. “How can you torture souls when they can’t feel pain?”

“I never said they couldn’t feel pain,” Jake explained. “Only the demons are immune. The souls, on the other hand, feel everything acutely. The beauty of Hades is that you keep regenerating only to go through it all again.”

“The torture cycle’s set on repeat,” Asia said with a crazed look. “We can hack ’em up and by sundown they’ll be whole again. The poor suckers look so relieved to know they’re close to the end. You should see their faces when they wake up without a scratch and it starts all over again.”

My face must have reflected the light-headedness I suddenly felt. I sank down into a chair, resting heavily on my elbow. Jake brushed Asia’s wandering hands from his chest and came over to me. He lifted my chin with an icy finger.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” he said in a voice surprisingly devoid of sarcasm.

“I don’t feel well,” I said flatly.

“Poor baby’s sick,” Asia crooned.

“What can I do?” Jake asked.

My gaze wandered inadvertently to Asia. I knew it wasn’t wise to make an enemy out of her, but her very presence was making me feel unwell. Jake looked at her flippantly over his shoulder. “Get out,” he commanded without a second’s hesitation.

“What?” She sounded genuinely surprised and even unsure of who he was addressing for a moment.

“NOW!”

Asia had clearly never been in a position in which she wasn’t Jake’s favorite and she didn’t like it. She threw me one final venomous look before storming off. I breathed easier with her gone. The malice she projected was debilitating, as if she were feeding off my very life source.

“Tucker, pour us a drink,” Jake ordered. Tucker sprang to life, moving to the dresser to pour whiskey from a crystal decanter into a tumbler. He handed it to Jake with an expression that suggested a mixture of fear and loathing. Jake held out the glass to me.

“Drink this.”

I took some tentative sips of the warm, glowing liquid and felt surprisingly better. It burned inside me, but somehow the burn had a numbing effect.

“You need to keep your strength up,” Jake said, putting an arm casually around me. Instantaneously I shook myself free. “You don’t always have to be so defensive.” He swung himself playfully around a bedpost and slid in beside me so deftly I barely had time to react. Although filled with a strange darkness, Jake’s face was beautiful in the fading light. His lips parted in a slow smile and I could hear him breathing fast. His black eyes traveled unhurriedly over my face. He always had a way of making me feel exposed and vulnerable.

“You must make an effort to be happy,” he murmured, trailing a finger along the inside of my arm.

“How can I try when I’m more miserable than I’ve ever been?” I said. There was little point in trying to mask my feelings.

“I understand you’re pining for lost love,” Jake said, in a voice that sounded almost sincere. “But that human can’t make you happy because he can never truly understand what you are.”

I edged away from him, but his grip on my arm tightened and he began tracing the network of veins beneath the translucent skin. I flinched, remembering how his touch had been accompanied by an uncomfortable burning sensation in the past. It felt different this time, almost soothing. I figured I was in Jake’s domain now and he could manipulate things any way he chose.

When Jake left, I couldn’t settle and Tucker loitering by the closed door only made me more uncomfortable. Instead of returning to the fire, he withdrew an electronic device from his pocket and began compulsively playing games to wile away the time.

“You can sit down,” I suggested, remembering his lame leg, which must have been bothering him because he kept readjusting his position, shifting his weight from foot to foot.

He looked up for a moment, startled by my expression of kindness.

“I won’t tell anyone,” I added with a smile.

Tucker hesitated a moment, then relaxed enough then to slide down and sit with his back against the door.

“You oughta try ’n’ git some sleep,” he suggested. It was the first time I’d heard him speak or look at me directly. His voice wasn’t what I expected. It was soft and mellow with a lilting Southern twang. The tone, however, was surprisingly worldweary for someone his age. “If you’re worried about Asia, she won’t bother you while I’m around.” He seemed proud of his ability to keep watch. “She’s a piece of work, but I ain’t easily fooled, despite what y’all might think.”

“I’m not worried,” I reassured him. “I trust you, Tucker.”

“You can call me Tuck,” he said.

“Okay.”

Tuck hesitated, and then looked at me with interest. “What makes you so sad all the time?”

“Am I that obvious?” I gave a small smile.

Tuck shrugged. “I can see it in your eyes.”

“I’m just thinking about the people I love …,” I said, “and whether I’ll ever see them again.”

A pained expression crossed his face as though my words had triggered troubling memories of his own to resurface.

“You can see them again if you want to,” he said. It was barely a murmur. Had I heard him right? All my hopes were suddenly roused, but I tried to keep my voice from trembling.

“Excuse me?” I asked slowly.

“You heard me,” Tuck mumbled.

“Are you saying you know a way out of here?”

“I didn’t say that,” he snorted. “I said you could see them again.”

This time he sounded mildly annoyed at having to explain what should have been patently obvious. It struck me suddenly that this lumbering boy with his crooked haircut might know more than he was letting on. Could his allegiance to Jake be merely pretense? Was it possible that here was one person in all of Hades with a vestige of conscience left? Was Tuck trying to tell me he was prepared to help? There was only one way to find out.

“Tell me what you mean, Tuck,” I asked, my heart leaping with expectation.

“There’s a way,” he said simply.

“Can you tell me?”

“I can’t tell you,” he answered. “But I can show you.” He brought a broad finger up to his lip in warning. “But we have to be careful. If we’re caught …,” he trailed off.

“I’ll do whatever I need to do,” I said determinedly.

“There are five rivers in Hades. One is for forgetting your past life, but there’s another that let’s you return to it. Well, at least temporarily,” Tuck said. “Drink from it and it will give you the ability to visit your loved ones whenever you like.”

“Visit them how?”

“You’ll be able to project,” Tucker said. It seemed the more he spoke, the less I understood what he meant. I looked at him blankly, my previous expectation dwindling to disappointment. It was entirely possible that Tucker wasn’t even in his right mind. The fact that I was attaching so much hope to what he had to say was a testament to my desperation.

Tuck read the mistrust in my face and tried to be clearer.

“There’s things here you won’t have read about in books. Drinking from the Lake of Dreams creates a trancelike state that allows your spirit to detach from your physical body. It takes skill, but someone like you should pick it up easy. Once you learn how to do it, you can go anywhere you like.”

“How do I know you’re not lying?”

Tucker looked dispirited at my lack of trust. “Why would I lie? Jake’ll have me thrown into the pit if he finds out.”

“Why help me then? Why risk your safety?”

“Let’s just say I’m fixin’ to settle a score,” he said. “Plus, you look like you could really use a home visit.” His lame attempt at humor made me smile.

“Have you managed to? Go home, I mean?”

A forlorn look came into his eyes. “By the time I worked out how there wasn’t much point, everyone I ever knew had gone. But you could check on the people you care about ’cuz they’re still alive.”

The lake’s potential filled me with hope.

“Take me there now,” I begged.

“Not so fast,” he cautioned. “It can be dangerous.”

“How dangerous?”

“Take too much and you might not wake up.”

“And how is that bad?” The words slipped out before I had a chance to think about them.

“It ain’t if y’don’t mind being in a coma for the rest of your life, watching your family day in and day out like they’re characters on a movie screen but never bein’ able to talk to them or reach them. Is that what you want?”

I shook my head although admittedly it sounded a darn sight better than what I had now.

“Okay,” I said. “You’re in charge of the dosage. But you’ve gotta take me there right now!”