We splashed into a pool of thick liquid, like mud. I tried swimming back up to the surface, not daring to open my eyes as I stroked and kicked, struggling against the density of the pool.

I finally broke the surface, and had to kick twice as hard to keep my head out of the muck. The stench of sulfur burned my nose as I eagerly swiped the goop out of my eyes before opening them. Talon and Carl were kicking desperately for the bank, which was only a dozen feet away. I followed after, wondering what the black pool was. I quickly decided I didn’t want to know as I bumped against a few thicker, denser chunks. I bit back bile and pressed on.

“Pah,” Talon spat, crawling across the surface. “Foul!”

I nodded as I finally reached them, pulling myself out. Carl was on all fours, blowing out his nostrils and wiping the black filth from his orifices – eyes, nose, ears, mouth. I reached into my satchel and found a spare shirt. I was mildly surprised it was dry, but then again…

I wiped my face and hands and then threw it at Talon. He wiped off and then tossed it at Carl.

Soon, we were all more or less clean, except for our clothes, which were drying stiffly in the baking heat, and checking over each other for injuries.

“What the… why was Death so different?” Talon finally asked.

“It doesn’t matter. We press on. I guess…” I jerked my chin to the open cavern before us.

To say cavern leaves a lot to misinterpretation. It was more accurate to say we were in a new world, and instead of open sky and clouds, only the earth’s crust sheltered us from the heavens. Bat-winged figures – too large to be bats – swooped back and forth in an erratic aerial display, snatching onto blue wisps that drifted lazily through the air in condensed figures the size of a man. I shivered as one screamed, snatched up by a bat-thing. Souls. Not blue wisps. Souls. Those winged things were catching souls and… eating them. Or torturing them.

Talon spat disgustedly, climbing to his feet. He placed his paws on his hips, studying the endless expanse of cavern, the thousand feet of air between us and the earth’s crust. Not too far away stood an arch, and beyond the arch was a thin rock bridge without railings. Below the bridge was only orange light, illuminating the cavern around us.

“Like a moth to flame,” I muttered, stomping past Talon. Carl was suddenly beside me, inky black teeth visible as he breathed through his mouth rather than nostrils. His ear holes opened and closed as if making sure no one was about to jump us.

I wasn’t concerned about being jumped. It wasn’t like anyone had to try very hard. There was nowhere to run. They could just walk up to us and overwhelm us. Even the bat-like things just watched us, blinking lazily with their red eyes. I couldn’t get a close enough look to really categorize their details, but I was sure my eyes would see plenty before we were through here.

As we neared the arch, I noticed the hundreds of black shades drifting over the ground. I had thought they were fog. They moved without hurry. As if just taking a walk. Or a hover. Their bodies didn’t shift as they drifted, so it looked like nothing more than an army of shadowy mall cops on Segways, muttering about the rascal teenager souls loitering near the entrance to Hell.

But they didn’t seem to bother – or even acknowledge – us.

Which was creepy when several drifted right past us. One actually went through Carl. He froze, completely motionless, and the hair on the back of my neck stood up in fear. Had they just fucking killed fucking Carl? We just got here!

Then he turned his neck to me very slowly, licked his lips a few times and grumbled. “That tasted delicious… So much anguish while that one lived…” He stared after the soul as if debating jogging over for another quick nibble of his life memories, which gave Talon and I enough time to glance at each other in horrified disgust.

“Fucking Carl,” Talon finally coughed, nose wrinkling at the sulfur permeating the air. Although foul, I had gotten kind of used to it already. Then again, I had anticipated it. I reached into my satchel and pulled out a small unmarked tin. I handed it over to Talon. He opened it curiously and sniffed. Then he greedily scooped some out to smear around his nose.

Carl turned back to us, a forlorn look in his eye as he gave up chasing down the specter. Talon held the tin of mentholatum – like what coroners used when working on cadavers – to him. “For the smell.”

Carl leaned in to sniff it and instantly snorted, taking two hurried steps back, shaking his head. “I think it smells refreshing here.”

Talon rolled his eyes and handed the tin back to me. Knowing that sulfur was likely going to be a bouquet of roses compared to what else our nostrils might encounter down here, I wiped some around my nose anyway and closed the tin. As I continued on to the arch I felt an itch at my shoulders. Remembering Death’s advice about not putting on the Mask of Hope, I began to ponder if he had meant using my white magic as well, since it was tied to my powers as a Horseman in training. I could always rely on my wizard’s magic, but sometimes the white flavor had a mind of its own and washed over my magic without conscious thought. I began regretting I hadn’t chosen a weapon for myself. Not that I was that great with any of them, but a blade wouldn’t have gone remiss right about now. I could always grab one of the extras I had stowed away for Talon or Carl, but they had picked them out themselves, and with these two crazy fucks, there was no telling what ancient powers were imbued in their backup weapons.

I shoved the tin can back in my bag, studying the arch. My hand brushed against something inside the satchel but I skidded to a halt, jerking my hand from the bag as I heard the sounds of Talon’s spear crackling into existence and Carl drawing twin bone daggers as long as his forearms.

A human stood before us. He wasn’t decayed, disheveled, or remotely zombie-like. He did look tired and pale, perhaps a smidge hungry, but he was human. And he was staring at us.

I shared a look with my companions before slowly approaching the man. He didn’t look threatening or imposing and had no weapons. He just watched us. Expectantly. Was this a gift from Death? Our guide?

“Greetings,” I said politely. “You, uh, don’t seem as dead as your roommates.”

He nodded. “I am dead inside.”

I smirked weakly. “So is this guy,” I said, pointing a thumb at Carl.

No one said anything so I let my hand drop.

The man nodded at Carl. “I’m well aware of Elders.” He glanced at Talon, seeming to focus on the scars over his eyes as if he understood what they signified. “It is an honor, Faeline,” he said, dipping his head. I frowned, shooting Talon an inquisitive look. Was it a mix between Fae and feline or a title? With only his eyes, he managed to tell me I have no fucking idea.

“Okay. Do we have to answer a riddle or something to use your bridge? Because I already know my answer.” I was going to pull the old Monty Python on him. He definitely wasn’t dressed like he had been around when that movie came out.

“A riddle? No. That would be a different entrance. Luckily for you. This is a… side door. If you would have me, I am your guide.”

Different entrance? How many doors to Hell were there? And, wait… guide? I studied his clothing more intently. He wore a tan robe and sandals, nothing else. And I’d read a book or two recently. “You’re Virgil!” I said, recalling the poet’s name. “The poet who guided Dante through Hell!”