still earth-shattering) glance, Amun realized Charon's eyes were deep black holes where thousands of souls seemed to dance...or writhe in pain.
'Let me take care of this,' William said.
'By all means,' Aeron replied.
William stood, and the vessel rocked. 'You know me, old friend. It is I, William the Beloved,' he called. 'We mean you no harm. We just want to pass through.'
Old friend? William the Beloved?
Charon lifted both hands and pointed a bony finger at Aeron and William.
Oh, shit. William's thoughts invaded Amun's mind. Guess I shouldn't have bagged his wife last time I was here.
Wonderful.
'What does being pointed at mean?' Aeron demanded softly.
'It means we're on his hit list,' William responded, sounding grimmer than Amun had ever heard him. 'Be afraid. Be very afraid.'
Amun, the guardian had ignored. Which made no—The answer hit him, drifting to him from the creature's thoughts. Charon sensed the demon inside Amun and didn't care if he entered hell or not.
Just as, this very morning, he hadn't minded if Galen entered. The memory washed through Amun's mind.
'You demand payment, this I know,' Galen had said just before tossing a severed human head into Charon's boat.
Charon had nodded in acceptance, and swept his arm behind him so that Galen could pass. Only, Galen remained in place, jaw hardening. He looked over his shoulder, forward, over his shoulder again.
Again, Charon swept his arm back to usher Galen along.
Galen scrubbed a hand down his face. 'I can't. Not yet. There's something I have to do on the surface first.' His hands fisted. 'Someone I have to kill before the bastard kills me. But I'll be back. And when I am, you'll remember that I've already paid for my entrance.'
'Uh, Amun, man,' Aeron said, dragging Amun from his troubling vision. 'You listening? Any ideas about what we should do? William says we can't look into the bastard's eyes without losing our own souls, and we can't touch him, either. If we do, he'll be able to compel our gazes to his.'
Charon's boat was inching forward, Amun saw, and sparks were now igniting over his fingertips. Kill, kill, kill, the boatman was thinking. The obsessive concentration he displayed didn't bode well.
Options? Payment wouldn't work, not for them. Aeron was no longer possessed by a demon, and William was merely an immortal. Charon wouldn't let them pay to pass unless they were dead. Or missing their souls. And the boatman planned to do whatever was necessary to ensure either outcome.
The first thing he planned? Splashing them.
Thank the gods Olivia had supplied them with a vial of water from the River of Life. Found only in the heavens, a single drop could counteract the effects of this water. Only problem was, once they ran out, they were out. There'd be no more. Ever.
Better for one man to use one drop than three men to use three drops. More than that, Amun's soul was tied to his demon, so Charon wouldn't want it. Which meant Amun was the only one who could look at and touch the guardian without consequence.
Which meant Amun had to be the one to act.
Have an idea, Amun signed. On my signal, propel our vessel to the shore.
'Great. Someone else will be the hero for a change. But what's the signal?' William asked.
This. Amun leaped at Charon, throwing them both into the river. Sizzling water enveloped him, practically burning away his clothing and peeling away his skin. But he held tight to Charon, caging the bony creature within his arms. Perhaps the water negated a little of the creature's ability, because Amun felt no compulsion to gaze at him. Most of his power remained, however. Skeletal hands pushed at him and those hands were a thousand times hotter than the water, like jolts of electricity straight to his heart, causing the organ to stutter to a halt.
Still Amun held on.
Soon, lack of oxygen began to fuzz his brain. He opened his mouth, accidentally swallowed a mouthful of that terrible, rotting liquid and gagged. Death crawled through him, destroying him cell by cell, filling him with decay. Weakening him.
Charon wiggled loose.
The boatman kicked his way to the surface. Though Amun's vision was dotting over with black, he fought his way up, too. Before he could discover whether Aeron and William were safe, Charon batted him back under with a hard elbow to the top of his head. Stars flashed behind his eyes. More of that disgusting water slid down his throat and into his stomach. A stomach now churning and burning with nausea.
Again, Amun fought his way up. The moment he broke the surface, he sucked in as much air as he could. Good thing, too. His boat was out of sight, and Charon was pissed and now determined to end Amun. Demon or not.
As Amun treaded water, their eyes met. The souls were swirling, faster and faster, white blurs that hypnotized. And yet, Amun didn't lose his soul. Somehow, his demon kept him grounded.
Punish, punish, punish, the creature was thinking. He grabbed Amun by the hair and shoved him under. This time, Amun wasn't strong enough to free himself. He could only flail, sucking in gulp after gulp, dying a little more with every second that passed.
Dear gods. Was this it for him? His muscles seized, preventing all movement. Yes, this was it. The end. His body was shutting down. He'd lived so long, he should be happy about that. But he'd never fallen in love, cherished anyone the way his friends cherished their women, and found that he mourned the lost opportunity.
Inside his head, Secrets roared. Roared so loud and long his muscles twitched back to life. Can't give up. Can't. Give. Up.
His demon had never spoken to him before.
Though it required every last bit of his strength, Amun kicked Charon in the chest, shooting them apart, and swam up and away. He glanced left, right, and spotted the shore because William was holding some type of glowing stick and waving him over.
Determined, he breast-stroked toward the light. Until Charon grabbed hold of his ankle and stopped him. Secrets roared for a second time. Must...fight...
Secrets even reached a mental claw toward the boatman and unleashed a stream of images inside his head. Good images. The few happy secrets Amun possessed. Secrets that had saved human lives. The giving of money. The giving of organs. Love from afar.
Charon released him and clutched at his own bony temples. Panting, still dying inside, Amun worked his way to the shore.
William reached for him, but Aeron stopped him. 'You can't touch him. You'll weaken, too.'
Amun fell upon the ground, sharp rocks digging into his bare, blistered back.
'Open your mouth,' Aeron commanded. He was thinking: Never seen a man in this condition. Will the water be enough to save him? Oh, gods. How could I have brought him here? If he dies, it'll be my fault.
Amun didn't have the strength to obey. The cool water Aeron tried to pour into his mouth dribbled over the side of his face. And damn it! That had been more than a drop.
'Open, or I'll do it for you,' William growled. He meant what he said.
Amun finally managed to unhinge his jaw, prying his lips apart, and a second later a cool stream was dripping into his mouth, slowly chasing away the weakness and the burn.
'That's enough,' William said. 'There's hardly any left.'
'Is he—'
'He'll be fine. Look, the charred areas of his skin are weaving back together.'
'Yeah, but how long—' Abruptly, Aeron stopped talking.
A few yards away, voices cackled. Amun didn't have to see to know multiple pairs of red eyes peeked around a bloodstained boulder. He could already hear their thoughts: Fresh meat.
