I jolted awake and found myself standing on a crowded ship. For one disorienting second, I thought that was the weirdest part of the situation, but no. The more I looked around, the more I realised things were far from normal.

The ship was enormous, built from black timber so old it had split into long jagged cracks, every plank warped and swollen as though it had spent centuries rotting at sea. The wood beneath my bare feet groaned with each slow sway of the vessel, icy cold seeping into my skin until my toes ached. The thin white dress hanging from my body was little more than a stained sack, stiff with dried mud and streaked with blood that wasn't mine—or at least I hoped it wasn't. An icy breeze swept across the deck, carrying strands of my silver hair across my face as it rolled over the endless river surrounding us.

Darting my gaze around, I found hundreds of people standing shoulder to shoulder across the deck, each dressed in clothes that looked as though they'd come from entirely different places and different times. At first, I couldn't understand why so many strangers had gathered aboard the same ship. Then I started looking properly. One man was missing half his skull, dried blood still clinging to the exposed bone. A woman's head rested against her shoulder at an angle no living neck should bend. Another passenger had a gaping hole through his side, as though something enormous had bitten clean through him and carried the missing pieces away. My stomach tightened. Nobody looked frightened. Nobody screamed. They simply stood in silence, staring ahead as though this were the most ordinary journey imaginable. The air smelled of sulphur and rotting eggs, yet beneath it lingered the fresh sweetness of lilies, the two scents blending into something strangely sickening. Above us, the sky stretched endlessly overhead, stained a deep crimson that bathed the world in an unholy twilight.

Even surrounded by hundreds of people, the ship was almost silent. The only sounds came from the slow groan of old wood, the rattle of heavy chains and the clatter of bones as a dozen skeletons strained against enormous oars, dragging the vessel through water so dark it was almost black, with only the faintest hint of deep purple glimmering beneath its surface. The river was unnaturally still, disturbed only by the steady rhythm of the oars and the occasional ripple spreading across the water for no reason I could see. I made the mistake of looking a little closer. Pale hands drifted just beneath the surface, reaching upwards with fingers that opened and closed soundlessly before disappearing back into the depths. My stomach lurched. I tore my gaze away and fixed it on the rotting planks beneath my feet instead, pretending I hadn't seen them at all.

My hand flew to my chest. It rose and fell exactly as it always should have, each breath misting faintly in the icy air. My heart hammered hard enough that I could feel it against my ribs, stubbornly refusing to believe it belonged in a place like this. The cold wind still bit at my skin. My lungs still burned with every breath. I was alive... wasn't I? I squeezed my eyes shut, desperately searching for something—anything—that might explain how I'd ended up aboard this ship. A face. A voice. A place that felt familiar. Nothing came. My mind was as empty as though someone had scrubbed it clean, leaving behind only the uncomfortable certainty that something was terribly wrong.

Then, almost like a single scrap of paper drifting back after a fire, one thing surfaced.

Ashleigh.

The name settled in my mind with quiet certainty. It had to be mine. Everything else had been stolen from me, but somehow that one small piece had survived. I clung to it desperately, silently repeating it to myself as though saying it often enough might drag the rest of my memories back with it. It didn't.

I swallowed, trying to force down the lump rising in my throat, but it refused to budge.

A long, mournful groan drifted upwards from somewhere below the deck... or perhaps beneath the river itself. It was impossible to tell. The sound seemed to rise through the hull rather than travel through the air, vibrating faintly beneath my feet and making the hairs along my arms stand on end. I turned to the man beside me. He looked almost alive at first glance, until I noticed his skin had swollen into an unnatural shade of blue, his face puffed so badly it looked ready to split. His vacant eyes remained fixed upon the single bronze coin resting in his palm as though it were the only thing anchoring him to reality.

"Excuse me," I whispered.

He didn't react.

I hesitated before gently tapping his shoulder.

"Excuse me... can you tell me what's happening?"

His head jerked towards me so suddenly I almost stumbled backwards. His cloudy eyes struggled to focus before finally settling on my face.

"Keep your voice down," he muttered.

I instinctively withdrew my hand.

"I just want to know what's—"

"Quiet."

The word came out as a desperate hiss. He cut me off by raising a trembling finger towards the front of the ship.

I followed his gaze and immediately wished I hadn't.

A figure moved slowly amongst the passengers.

He towered over everyone else, easily twice the height of the tallest person aboard the ship. Layers of black robes hung from his broad frame in heavy folds that seemed to swallow every trace of light around them, leaving only darkness where his face should have been. Deep within that endless shadow, two small violet lights stared out, motionless and unblinking. Only his hands emerged from the sleeves of the cloak. They were little more than polished silver bones wrapped in impossibly thin skin, every knuckle sharp enough to look capable of cutting flesh. He stopped before a woman clutching a baby that hung unnaturally limp in her arms. Without a single word, he extended one skeletal hand. The woman immediately placed a bronze coin into his palm, her fingers shaking so violently she almost dropped it. He flipped the coin into the air with effortless precision, catching it neatly against the back of his hand before turning the violet glow of his gaze towards it. The silence stretched for only a heartbeat. Then he slowly pointed towards the bow of the ship. Relief flooded the woman's face so suddenly her knees almost buckled. Clutching the infant tightly against her chest, she hurried away through the crowd with her head bowed low, moving as though she feared that if she lingered for even a second, the towering figure might change his mind.

The figure... the Ferryman moved on.

He stopped before a broad-shouldered man dressed in a battered soldier's uniform, the front of his neck hanging open where something had torn through his throat. Once again, the figure extended one skeletal hand. Once again, a bronze coin was placed upon his palm. The coin spun through the air in a single practised toss before landing neatly across the back of the Ferryman's hand. This time, instead of pointing towards the bow, the towering figure slowly turned and gestured towards a narrow black door set into the deck near the stern. It stood half-hidden between coils of heavy rope, disappearing into the darkness below.

The soldier froze. His fingers tightened around empty air where the coin had been only moments before. Fear flickered across his face before hardening into something sharper. His jaw clenched. The muscles in his neck trembled around the ragged wound.

"No," he rasped, each word bubbling wetly through the torn remains of his throat. "I've done nothing wrong."

Nobody else reacted. Heads remained bowed. Eyes stayed fixed upon the coins clutched in trembling hands, as though acknowledging the confrontation might somehow invite the figure's attention upon themselves.

The Ferryman did not move.

The soldier lurched forwards and seized a fistful of the black robes. The fabric didn't wrinkle beneath his grip. It simply swallowed his hand into endless folds of darkness.

"I've done nothing wrong!" he cried again, louder this time, desperation bleeding through every broken syllable.

The figure slowly turned towards him. The violet lights beneath the hood brightened until they glowed like embers beneath deep ash. When he spoke, the words rolled across the deck like distant thunder, low enough to vibrate through the timber beneath my feet.

"Judgement is never mistaken."

A pulse of violet light flashed beneath the cloak.

In the next heartbeat, one skeletal hand had closed around the soldier's throat.

His boots left the deck.

He kicked wildly, as both hands clawed uselessly at the impossibly thin fingers crushing his neck. The Ferryman held him suspended with effortless ease, as though lifting a frightened child rather than a fully-grown soldier.

The deck remained silent.

Hundreds of people stood only a few feet away, yet not a single person stepped forwards. No one pleaded. No one even looked directly at the struggling man. They simply stared at the deck or clutched their own coins tighter, pretending the desperate gasping echoing across the ship belonged to someone else.

The soldier coughed a mouthful of blood into the darkness beneath the hood. "You can't—"

"If you refuse judgement," the Ferryman said, his voice as empty of feeling as the river surrounding us, "you are denied passage."

Without another word, he turned and cast the soldier over the side.

The splash sounded thick and heavy, not the sound of usual water, but sounded like someone being dropped into a vat of wet clay.

I stumbled forwards before fear caught hold of my legs.

The soldier burst back to the surface immediately, thrashing with frantic desperation. His arms churned through the dark water while blood and panic mixed in every scream. For one painfully hopeful second, I thought he might simply swim away. Surely there had to be a shore somewhere. A river had to lead somewhere.

Then the surface around him rippled. The water bulged upwards as pale hands emerged first. They rose silently through the dark water, fingers stretching towards the soldier with desperate urgency. Dozens seized him all at once. One gripped his wrist. Another buried itself in his hair. More clamped around his shoulders, his uniform, his face. Fingers forced their way into his mouth, muffling the scream that became nothing more than a bubbling gurgle before he was dragged beneath the surface. The river swallowed him greedily. I waited for him to rise again, lungs burning in sympathy, but he never did. Only one hand broke the surface a final time, fingers clawing helplessly at empty air before disappearing into the endless purple-black depths. His screams faded into the countless moans already drifting beneath the water, becoming just another voice amongst them.

My stomach twisted so violently I thought I might collapse. I clamped the back of my hand across my mouth and forced myself to breathe through my nose.

That proved to be a mistake.

The stench of sulphur flooded my lungs, tangled with the metallic tang of fresh blood and something damp that reminded me of earth long sealed beneath a grave.

"Idiot." The muttered word came from beside me.

I turned towards the blue-faced man, too horrified to understand how anyone could sound so... ordinary after what we'd just witnessed. "He just—"

"He should've gone below." The man never looked away from the river. "Anything's better than ending up in there."

I stared at him. "What just happened?"

That finally earned me a sideways glance. His swollen features pinched together in confusion. "Didn't they explain any of this when they handed you your coin?"

My stomach sank. "...Coin?"

His eyes narrowed. "Don't be daft." He lifted the bronze disc resting in his palm. Up close, it looked crudely hammered into a rough circle, its edges uneven and worn smooth with age. Strange symbols had been stamped into both sides, too weathered for me to understand but cut deeply enough that centuries hadn't erased them. "Everyone arrives with a judgement coin." He looked at me as though waiting for understanding to dawn.

It didn't.

"You'd better hope you've still got yours before—" His voice died abruptly.

The Ferryman had stopped in front of him.

Without a word, the skeletal hand appeared once more.

The man swallowed, placed his coin upon the waiting palm and lowered his gaze. The bronze disc spun once through the air before landing neatly across the back of the Ferryman's hand. The violet eyes beneath the hood lingered upon it for only a heartbeat before one long finger pointed silently towards the bow.

Relief flooded the man's swollen face. He exhaled so sharply his shoulders sagged beneath the weight of it. Clutching his empty hand against his chest, he hurried towards the front of the ship without once looking back.

I patted down my dress, my fingers sweeping frantically over the coarse fabric, but there were no pockets, no hidden seams, nowhere a bronze coin could possibly have been tucked away. I spun in a slow circle, scanning the rotting deck as though the missing coin might be lying conveniently between the warped planks. Instead, I became the centre of attention. Apparently, a screaming soldier being dragged into the river barely warranted a second glance, yet a confused girl turning in circles was somehow fascinating. One by one, heads lifted. Eyes flicked from my empty hands to the Ferryman steadily making his way towards me.

I hated how utterly useless I was. Actually, I hated everything. I hated this ship. I hated not remembering who I was. I hated waking up in the middle of whatever nightmare this was without so much as an explanation. Most of all, I hated that everyone else had apparently received a bloody orientation while I'd been dropped aboard completely clueless. Fear clawed relentlessly at the back of my throat, but panicking wasn't going to magically produce a coin that had never been there.

The Ferryman stopped before me.

Up close, he seemed even larger. Perhaps he had always been this tall, or perhaps standing directly beneath his attention simply made him feel that way. His black robes hung perfectly still despite the wind sweeping across the deck, each fold swallowing the crimson light until they became patches of living darkness. Beneath the hood, there was no face waiting to meet my eyes, only an endless black void pierced by two faint violet lights. One skeletal hand emerged slowly from the sleeve, impossibly thin fingers unfolding until his palm faced upwards.

I could only stare.

It wasn't as though I had a coin to give him.

For several endless heartbeats, neither of us moved. Then a low growl rolled from somewhere inside the darkness beneath his hood.

"Coin."

The single word reverberated through the deck beneath my feet, vibrating through my ribs as though the ship itself had spoken.

I swallowed.

"I..."

The sound died in my throat.

I forced another breath into my lungs.

"I don't have one."

Silence.

The Ferryman's hand remained outstretched. Patiently waiting, as though he expected me to stop joking at any moment.

I searched myself again anyway. One hand swept across my dress. Then the other. Again and again. My fingers shook harder each time, desperately searching seams, folds and creases I already knew were empty. There were no hidden pockets. No forgotten coin. No miraculous rescue waiting at the last possible second.

What the hell was he expecting me to do?

After what felt like an eternity—but could only have been a few seconds—the Ferryman lowered his hand.

"No coin..."

My mouth went dry.

I already knew the rest.

"No passage."

His other hand moved so fast I never saw it happen.

One moment it hung beside him.

The next, bony fingers had closed around my throat.

They were colder than ice. Each finger dug into my neck with enough force that I could feel the edges of bone beneath skin stretched impossibly tight. My feet left the deck before I even realised I was being lifted.

I clawed instinctively at his wrist.

Black spots crowded the edge of my vision.

The Ferryman just stared at me for a moment, his gaze lingering on my chest, before he said, "You do not belong here."

Then—

The world lurched.

The Ferryman threw me over the side as though discarding something that had never belonged aboard his ship.

The river swallowed me whole.

The impact drove every breath from my lungs. The water wasn't water at all. It was thick, clinging to my skin like freezing tar, wrapping itself around every part of me as I sank. It slid into my ears, my nose, the corners of my eyes. I kicked violently, forcing my arms upwards until I finally broke the surface long enough to drag one desperate breath into burning lungs.

Something wrapped around my ankle.

I barely had time to gasp before I was jerked violently back beneath the surface.

The river closed over my head again.

Hands found me immediately.

One seized my wrist.

Another grabbed my hair.

More clutched handfuls of my dress, my shoulders, my legs. Fingers dug into my skin with frantic desperation, not crushing me, but refusing to let go. I screamed, and the river rushed into my mouth. Thick, bitter sludge forced itself down my throat until I choked. I thrashed blindly, wrenching one arm free only for three more hands to replace it. My legs kicked wildly against bodies I couldn't see. The surface was already drifting away above me, reduced to a pale, wavering smear distorted by the endless purple water.

Something deep inside me whispered that I should stop fighting.

That this was where I belonged.

That this was where I had always been meant to end.

No! Absolutely not!

I had no idea who I was. No idea how I'd arrived here. And there was no chance I was dying in a place that smelled like rotten eggs.

I fought harder. But every movement grew slower and heavier. The river resisted everything I did, dragging at my arms and legs until they no longer felt like my own.

My mouth opened in one final, useless attempt to breathe, and more of the river poured into my lungs. The last faint strip of light above narrowed until it became little more than a crack in the darkness.

Then a voice echoed through the water.

"Thank Vassago... I reached you in time."

Heat exploded inside my chest.

White-hot fire tore beneath my skin, erupting from somewhere behind my ribs until every muscle in my body locked rigid. The river convulsed around me. Every hand gripping me released at once, blasted backwards by a force I couldn't see. Blinding white light burst through the dark water, swallowing the hands, the river and the endless purple depths until there was nothing left except burning brilliance.

For one impossible moment, there was only light.

Then I crashed into freezing water so clear I could see the ripples racing away from me.

I lay there, floating for several long seconds while every part of my body trembled with exhaustion.

A loud huff shattered the silence.

I jerked upright, coughing violently as crystal-clear water poured from my mouth. My palms slammed against smooth stone beneath the surface while wet silver hair clung to my face. I blinked water from my eyes and stared.

I was sitting inside a fountain.

An actual fountain.

...What?

For several long seconds, I could only blink. The thick purple sludge that had nearly drowned me was gone, washing away in dirty ribbons that disappeared through carved drains around the fountain's edge. Twisted gargoyle statues surrounded the basin, streams of crystal-clear water spilling endlessly from their mouths. The air no longer reeked of blood and decay. Instead, it carried the clean scent of salt and fresh lilies. Above me stretched an endless crimson sky, not the fading red of sunset nor the pale glow of dawn, but a rich colour like old wine spilled across the heavens. Beyond the fountain rose towering black walls and impossibly high spires, their silhouettes disappearing into the red haze overhead.

I turned towards the sound.

Calling it a dog felt almost insulting.

The creature stood nearly chest-high, even if I had been standing, which I definitely wasn't. Thick midnight-black fur drank in the crimson light until its outline blurred against the shadows behind it. Its ears stood rigidly forward. Its tail remained perfectly still. Two golden eyes regarded me with an expression so unmistakably unimpressed that, had I not almost drowned moments earlier, I might have laughed.

Instead...

I simply stared back.

Water dripped steadily from my nose, which probably made me look even more ridiculous than I already felt.

The enormous hound blinked once, giving it an almost human-like appearance. Then it let out a long sigh through its nose, the sound carrying all the weary disappointment of someone discovering a creature that had somehow managed to fall below their already very low expectations.