First Lie || Deception Book I ||

Into the Underworld

I appeared in DOA Recording Studios in a swirl of black smoke, startling some of the souls who blinked and then resumed their mindless staring from the black leather furniture situated around the lobby. I shivered. I hated coming here, seeing the thousands of people who'd been waiting for gods knew how long, lost and alone, but it wasn't like I could just shadow-walk to Hades house. Not only was it not proper protocol, but it was also highly likely that I simply couldn't, not that I'd ever tried.

I looked around and sighed. Nothing had changed since the last time I'd come here. The walls and carpet were still the same dreary shade of steel grey, the furniture was still black leather and still as filled as it was the last time I was here, and the last last time, and the - you get the idea. The pencil cactuses resembling skeletal hands still grew in the corner, and the same muzak played. I sighed again and made my way towards Charon's desk, my black cloak fluttering behind me.

"You need a new outfit, Mr. Charon," I said as I stopped in front of his desk, raising my mask. "I'm tired of seeing you in your silk Italian suit, bleached hair, and tortoiseshell shades. And you need a new haircut. One that's not military style."

"Miss Sinclair," Charon muttered without preamble. "Back so soon? And how much do you think I need to buy something better? Have you any idea how little Hades pays me?"

I stacked three golden drachmas on the counter. "You complained about this to me last time. And every time I stopped here. I need a ride to the Underworld, not a talk with you about pay raises. Sir," I added. "By the by, did you happen to have escorted two demigods and one satyr to the Gates?"

Charon licked his lips as he took them. "Only three this time? And no, I haven't. Not a whisper of any godlings. And what business would a satyr have going to the Underworld?"

"Ah, okay," I replied. "When you see them, let them pass. Know that they will be here by the latest, June twenty-first, on business for the gods." I crossed my arms. "Even if they don't bring any money."

"What?" Charon growled. "No way. If you want to pass, you have to pay."

I glared at him. "Fine. I'll pay in advance. Just make sure that they will pass." I added another three onto the counter. "One for each person. Swear it on the Styx that they will pass, unharmed."

"Five more."

"Two," I countered.

"Four."

"Fine."

I tossed him four more, which he caught smoothly. "You have a deal, Miss Sinclair. I swear it on the Styx that I will let the godlings and satyr pass unharmed. Now, come on."

Charon stood up and pushed through the crowd of waiting spirits. I followed, the dark aura I was sending off enough to keep the dead at least three feet away. He escorted me into the elevator, which, as always, was already full of spirits, each of them holding a green pass. I flicked my fingers, and three souls who were trying to get in with us were pushed back into the lobby.

Charon nodded his thanks at me, and announced, "Now, no one get any stupid ideas while I'm gone. And, just like last time, if anyone moves the dial off my easy-listening station again, you'll be waiting another thousand years."

"You need a new station though, Mr. Charon," I whispered to him as he shut the doors and slid a key card into the slot on the elevator panel.

"Just shut your mouth, Miss Sinclair," Charon grumbled as we started to descend.

After a few minutes, the elevator stopped descending, instead moving forward. Mist and fog rolled in, the spirits around us changing from modern clothes into grey hooded robes. I glanced at Charon, whose suit had changed into a long black robe. I fought the urge to flinch as I met his black, hollow eyes, filled with death and night. Even after all this time, becoming used to Charon in his real form, a transparent wraith with lightless eyes, was nigh on impossible.