Deals and Devils

The River Styx flowed like a snake all the way to the gates of the Underworld. Charlie walked along the edge of the river, careful to not let even a toe slip into the waters. The messenger god–Hermes–hadn’t told Charlie exactly what would happen if he touched the Styx, but he had made it clear that it would be best not to find out. 

Charlie didn’t know how long he had been walking. He had been led to the start of the river by Hermes, but time seemed to have little meaning now that he was under the earth. Hunger and weariness threatened to overtake him, but then he thought of his brother–deep in a coma and growing closer to death every moment–and he kept moving.

After all, Max wouldn’t be in a coma if it weren’t for Charlie.

***

He met Hermes outside of the hospital room as tears of guilt poured down his cheeks.

“Why are you crying, boy?” the strange man with blue eyes in a hooded jacket had asked. 

“Leave me alone,” Charlie had spit out at him.

“Suit yourself,” the man had said. “But if it’s a lost soul you’re crying over, I know a guy.” 

“You know a guy? What the hell does that mean?” Charlie was starting to think this guy was on crack.

“What the hell is precisely the right statement. What the hell. Or maybe where the hell?”

Definitely on crack. 

“Look man–” Charlie started, but didn’t get to finish his sentence because crack man had more to say.

“If you’re content to let Max slip away, then have it your way. But if you’d like for him to be alive and well again, then I know who you need to talk to.”

Charlie stopped short. This stranger shouldn’t have known his brother’s name.

“Who?” Charlie all but whispered.

“Hades,” he responded.

That was when the stranger introduced himself formally–Hermes, messenger of the gods, protector of travelers, and a guide of souls to the afterlife. 

Charlie still didn’t believe that there was such a thing as Hades or the Underworld, even when Hermes led him to the entrance. One of many entrances, Hermes explained. A dark, decrepit subway station, appearing to be closed to living travelers for at least fifty years. Rotten boards partially covered an archway that led into the station, and inside were tracks which led to a tunnel. The tunnel itself crept down through the dark for a long time, to the point where a small stream of flowing water began, and the stream soon poured into a river. And that was how Charlie came to walk alongside the river Styx.

He didn’t know how long he had tread along the banks of the river when he reached the boat. It looked just large enough to carry one person, and even that may be a challenge. On the other side of the wide stretch of river was an arched gate, black as onyx. A ferryman stood by the edge of the boat and his stony gaze never left Charlie as he approached. Charlie walked all the way to the boat and stopped in front of the ferryman. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the large coin that Hermes had given him.

“A fee to cross the river.” Charlie said simply, just as Hermes had instructed. 

The ferryman kept his gaze on Charlie, neither blinking nor taking the coin that Charlie offered. Charlie felt his heart race and panic rise within his chest. He knew in that instant that his journey had ended, that he would die here in the Underworld and that Max would soon follow— 

But then the ferryman moved. He reached forward, took the coin and stood aside for Charlie to pass onto the boat. Charlie set a foot on the creaking wood and knew that the time for turning back was now gone. 

***

The journey across the river took both little time and an eternity. The temperature grew both warmer and colder as the boat glided across the river, as if the realm of the dead was both a fiery furnace and a barren, icy void. The ferryman said not a word to Charlie as they sailed across the river, and he said none as Charlie passed him to exit the boat and step onto the opposite bank. 

Closer to the gate now, Charlie could see that it bore strange symbols that looked like they should be words, but it was a language Charlie couldn’t read. In front of the gate sat a great hound with three heads. Each head had two rows of sharp teeth, yellow eyes, and its coat was black with flecks of gray scattered throughout. Each of its six eyes were focused on Charlie as he approached.

This was Cerberus, the three headed dog of Hades, guard of the underworld. 

Cerberus looked Charlie up and down, then turned and walked through the gate. Charlie stood frozen, but then one of Cerberus’ heads turned and looked back at him, beckoning him to follow. He was led through a dark valley, stones black as coal littered all around and fires burning at random. Cerberus continued walking along some unseen path, until at last a sort of house appeared in the distance. Cerberus led Charlie right up to the entrance, and when the great black doors opened for the beast, Charlie followed him through the many halls until at last they entered a room with a great black throne. Cerberus walked to the throne and sat at its base.

A man sat on the throne who invoked both terror and curiosity from Charlie. His skin was pale, almost translucent, as if he hadn’t seen a ray of sunlight in a thousand years. His hair was silver in color, and his eyes were dark as the night. His hands rested on either side of his throne, giving him the presence of ruling power. 

Hades, god of the Underworld, looked down at Charlie from his throne. 

After a long and deep silence, Hades spoke. “It’s been some time since a living soul has found their way into my home. I can’t decide if I’m amused by this or if I want to destroy you. Either way, you’re mine now.”

“What do you mean?” Charlie asked. “I’m yours?”

Hades smirked and said, “Living souls that walk into my realm don’t get to just leave. You’ve entered my kingdom; you’ll stay unless I say otherwise.” 

It was only then that Charlie noticed the woman standing behind the right shoulder of Hades, obscured by shadow. She was lovely; fair and bright, with eyes green as grass. Quite out of place in the rest of the Underworld and its darkness and shadow. She gazed at Charlie, and for all the world, her eyes reminded him of the birth of spring.

Charlie looked back at the devil on his throne. “I don’t really want to leave anyways.”

Hades raised a silver eyebrow, curious. “Most mortals who wander here have every intention of finding their way out and back to the mortal world. Why would you desire to stay in my beloved realm?”

Charlie looked at his feet, no longer feeling brave enough to meet the gaze of the god of death.

“I don’t deserve to be in my world. Not when my brother is dying and it’s my fault.”

“Dying,” Hades said. “My favorite pastime of men. Who is this brother of yours?”

Charlie felt a tear rising to his eye. “His name is Max. He’s my younger brother. My adopted brother. He’s in a coma from a car accident.”

Hades considered him for a moment. “And this…accident–it was your fault?”

“I was driving and another driver drifted into my lane. I tried to get out of the way, but there was ice on the road. The car slid, and we hit a tree.” The tear slid down Charlie’s cheek.

Hades looked at Charlie shrewdly. “Why would this be your fault? Did you mean to cause your brother harm?”

“No.” Charlie said. “I would never want that. I never meant to cause him harm or do anything that would hurt him. But I was driving the car. I was arguing with him about something stupid, and if I had been paying more attention, maybe I would have seen the car. I’m the one who deserves to be here, not him.”

Hades saw the tear slipping down Charlie’s face threaten to turn into a river. A river more powerful than the Styx and more painful than the Acheron. Hades glanced over his shoulder at the woman standing behind him; Persephone, his beloved wife, looked at him with fire in her eyes, threatening Hades if he should do anything that would harm the boy.

Charlie stood with his head bowed, waiting for the god to speak again. He hoped and he wished that Hades would help Max–he would make whatever deal, trade anything that Hades asked if Max could have more time. He would trade his very soul.

As if reading his thoughts, Hades looked at Charlie and asked that very question: “Tell me mortal; what could you give me?”

Without skipping a beat, Charlie looked imploringly into the eyes of Hades and swore, “I will give you my soul, my life, my allegiance. If you can save Max, give him back his life, I will stay here and I will serve you forever. Please, take me instead.”

Please. How often had Hades heard that word, how many times over the centuries had that word poured like honey out of the mouths of men. Please. Hades, please. Yet this boy was different. This boy was pleading for the life of a brother, and although the boy held himself responsible, no court of men or gods would ever hold the same view. And yet his own conscience and his love for his brother moved him to trade his own life.

But, rules were rules. 

“You have spoken true mortal, and I see in you a love for your brother which I have never known nor could I understand, as my relationship with my brothers is rather more… tumultuous. But, there is no life debt here with which I could trade your brother’s soul for yours. You may hold guilt within yourself for your brother's coming death, but this guilt would not cause you to be at fault for his death. No god or man would think so. So, you must find within yourself a way to live with what has happened. I cannot help you and I cannot assist you in this matter.”

Charlie felt his heart sink within him and realized that his journey to the depths of hell was proving vain and hopeless. There was no salvation to be found for Max here, nothing that Charlie could say or do to convince Hades to release Max when his soul made its way to this place.

“What now?” Charlie asked, fearing the answer that he knew he would receive.

“Go home,” Hades said. “I release you. Take the road back to the Styx and return to the place from which you came. Do not look back and do not return here until you are a lost soul looking for passage.”

Understanding that no more would be gained from any further pleas or tears, Charlie turned and walked back toward the river Styx. The way down had felt frightful and uncertain; the way back up felt heavy and burdensome. He had failed; there was no hope for Max now.

***

At the entrance to the tunnel, Charlie was met with a familiar face. Hermes stood just inside the archway leading down to the river. 

“Did you succeed?” Hermes asked.

“No,” Charlie responded. “He said I wasn’t at fault, and there was no deal that he was willing to make with me.”

“Hmm… no deal he was willing to make with you.” Hermes emphasized the last word, and Charlie could see thoughts and ideas moving behind his sky blue eyes. 

“What are you thinking?” Charlie asked.

“Never mind,” Hermes said. “You did what you could. Go back to the hospital. I’ll come soon.”

Charlie’s last ounce of hope dissipated as he exited the decrepit subway station. The sunlight had little effect on his mood, and he barely noticed the trees or the flowers or the sounds of birds. The world held little meaning anymore. 

As Charlie walked back to the hospital, he formed a final speech in his head. How he would say goodbye to the boy who had been his brother since Charlie’s parents had adopted him. He neared the room, the door which would lead to nothing but sorrow, and he pushed it open to a sight which was wholly miraculous.

Max, sitting up and awake, looking dazed and slightly confused, yet otherwise well. Alive. 

The tears which had overtaken Charlie in the Underworld overtook him once again, this time in a rush of joy and disbelief as he saw the blue eyes of his brother that he never thought he would see again.

The best kind of chaos followed in the coming hours, as doctors checked on Max and declared that the miraculous had happened. Charlie listened to this and he truly believed that it was a miracle, because even Hades himself had seemed sure that Max would soon find himself in the Underworld, lost to the land of the dead.

Hours later, Charlie saw a man in a hooded jacket leaning against the far wall outside of Max’s room. Hermes looked tired, but also calm and content. Charlie took another look at Max, as if to remind himself for the hundredth time that he was alive and no longer on the verge of meeting Hades, and then walked to where Hermes was standing in the hall.

“He’s awake,” Charlie said, still overcome with relief. “He’s awake and the doctors have said that they don’t understand it. They don’t understand why or how he’s alive and not in a coma anymore.”

Hermes smiled softly, as if he had a secret. And it turns out that he did.

“Hades wouldn’t take your soul in the place of your brothers because you weren’t at fault. And he didn’t need your soul instead of Max’s. He has millions of souls. It didn’t make a difference to him if it was you or Max, so long as his souls kept coming.”

Charlie was confused why Hermes was telling him this. What difference did it make now if Hades wanted to make a deal or not if Max was alive and well?

But Hermes wasn’t done.

“But you see Charlie, I do have something Hades wants. As a part of his truce with his brother Zeus, Hades is confined to the Underworld. He has complete dominion over that realm, but he can’t leave. Not for a single moment. But I, however, am the messenger god. I have the power and the ability to travel wherever I please, be it to the top of Mount Olympus or the depths of the Underworld. I had something that he wanted. Something that I could use to make a deal for the return of Max’s soul, although I was hoping not to have to give it.”

“What did you trade?” Charlie asked, feeling his chest tighten.

“The ability to move and travel outside of the Underworld. But it’s limited–the deal is tied to Max’s life. It will only last as long as he lives. And powerful as Hades is, I don’t think that he can make Max live forever.”

Charlie thought this over and pondered the potential consequences. Hades, god of the Underworld and the dead, trapped in his realm for at least a thousand years, once again free to roam the mortal world. What would he do with his new found power?

Hermes seemed to read his thoughts. “I don’t know what he’ll do, but I doubt he’ll get too careless anytime soon. He still lives in the shadow of Zeus and will have to answer to him if he makes a mess of the mortal world.”

This thought didn’t comfort Charlie much. But he still felt a strange sense of unease. 

“I don’t understand. Why would you care about Max this much? Why would you risk giving Hades this much power? Is Max really worth it to you?”

Hermes' blue eyes sparkled and he looked lost in his own history of memories for a time. When he did answer, Charlie could tell that he chose his wording with great care.

“Max is worth a great deal of sacrifice to me. After all, a father would do almost anything for his son.”