Ruby Shadows (Born to Darkness #3)(26)
“I thought you didn’t like him,” I said dryly, eyeing the horse which was sidling up to us, trying to get close to Gwendolyn again.
“Well maybe I changed my mind,” she said defensively. “He’s not so bad once you get to know him and it would be a lot easier riding him than trudging through Hell on foot.”
“He’s a very noticeable steed,” I objected. “Riding him would draw unwanted attention and make it much easier for the Hellspawn to track us.”
“But that thing is already on my trail,” she objected. “And if we’re mounted on the horse when it finds us, I’m sure he could outrun it. We’ll actually have a better chance of getting away and staying safe if we keep him.”
I saw that she really wanted to keep the horse. Despite myself, I was charmed all over again by her courage. She loved and befriended even the most fearsome creatures—it made me hope, deep inside, that maybe she might find love in her heart for a monster like me as well. I could deny her nothing—still, I pretended to deliberate.
“Well…” I murmured, crossing my arms over my chest.
“Please, Laish?” She put a hand on my arm which I liked a lot—she hardly ever touched me voluntarily and I badly wanted her to.
“All right,” I said at last, taking her hand in mine. “If it means so much to you.”
“It does.” She squeezed my hand. “I don’t know why, but it does. Thank you, Laish.”
“You are welcome,” I said simply. “And now, if you can tear your attention away from your new pet long enough, I believe the ferry has arrived.”
Gwendolyn pulled her hand from mine and turned quickly, scanning the sluggish waters of the Styx.
Sure enough, a long, flat barge appeared out of the mist, coming slowly toward us. It was captained by a tall figure shrouded in tattered black rags. His face was hidden by a black hood but I had traversed the Styx often enough to know what he looked like beneath that ragged veil.
“Charon,” Gwendolyn breathed as the barge came to a halt, crunching against the pebbles of the shoreline. “So he is real.”
“Indeed,” I murmured. “Are you ready to cross, Gwendolyn? Few of the living ever have.”
“I’m ready,” she assured me. “I’ve got this.”
She dug around in her bag for a moment and then seemed to find what she was looking for. Stepping forward, she tried to hand something to the skeletal ferryman.
Charon simply shook his head.
“What?” Gwendolyn frowned. “What’s wrong? Why won’t he take it?” She held out her hand and I saw an antique silver piece in her small palm.
“You are not dead,” I explained. “Only the souls of the dead must pay for passage across the Styx. A living human may pass for free—as long as you are accompanied by a denizen of the realm.”
“Oh, all right.” She shrugged. “Should we bring the horse aboard first—what’s his name, anyway? Did your, uh, friend say?”
“This is the same steed Yerx rode through the campaigns we fought together,” I said. “As I recall, his name is Kurex.”
“Kurex, hmm? I like it.” Gwendolyn turned to the horse. “Here, boy. Here, Kurex.”
At the sound of his name the massive horse nodded his head and snorted. He trotted over to the little witch and nuzzled just behind her ear with his nose, blowing gently.
“Good boy.” Gwendolyn stroked the arching black neck again and I couldn’t help feeling jealous. Why was it so easy for her to trust anyone and anything but me?
“Give his reins to Charon,” I instructed her. “He will lead Kurex aboard the ferry.”
“And he’ll be okay?” She looked at me anxiously.
I nodded. “He will. He is used to traversing this river.”
“All right then, good.” Reaching up, she caught the black leather reins as though she’d been doing it for years and led the horse closer to the ferry. This time when she held out her hand, Charon reached for what she was handing him. I noticed that Gwendolyn was careful not to touch his skeletal fingers as she gave him the reins.
Kurex was loaded onto the flat barge-like ferry in short order and the only thing that remained was for Gwendolyn and myself to climb aboard. It seemed a simple thing and yet I knew it would be a problem. I considered warning my little witch of what was to come, but then I thought better of it. She would have to learn on her own or she would never believe me.
Gwendolyn was about to find out exactly what was required in order to pass from one circle of Hell to the next and I was certain it would not make her happy.
* * * * *
Gwendolyn
I know it sounds crazy considering my childhood trauma, but I was really getting fond of the elephant-sized horse. Maybe I just have a soft spot for animals but the way he nuzzled me with his nose and begged for more apples just melted me. I was a little worried he might nip my fingers with that huge mouth of his but he had been extremely careful, delicately lipping the huge apples Laish conjured for me out of my palm and crunching them with messy delight. And for my part, I found I really enjoyed feeding him.
I had never thought I would like a horse after my broken-collarbone incident but it occurred to me that maybe I had been too quick to judge. I was genuinely glad when Laish said we could take the big guy with us and not just because riding beat hoofing it—no pun intended—through Hell by a long shot. I still had the problem of the way the saddle rubbed me in the wrong (right?) way, but I would learn to deal with that, I promised myself. In the meantime, I was just glad we got to keep Kurex a little longer.