Persephone could not let such doubts plague her. She rode Alastor as hard as she dared, only slowing when they approached the great gate. Cerberus was lying down with his heads resting on his paws, but he raised one of them as she drew near, cocking his ears toward the sound of Alastor’s hoofbeats.

Persephone unwound the sausages from her neck and broke them into three equal segments. She tossed each one to Cerberus’s heads, and the giant hound happily began to gnaw on them.

Persephone clucked her tongue at Alastor, and they slowly trotted away. She glanced over her shoulder to see that Cerberus was still eating, paying her no mind. Once she saw that the beast would not follow, she urged Alastor into a canter, leading them to the marshlands where the Styx and Acheron met.

At the sight of water she dismounted, leaving Alastor by the road. She ran down to the river bank, where there was a pier and a boat but no Charon. Even when she turned to the south, searching for a glimpse of him, there were no signs of any activity. The water was flat, a dark mirror reflecting her ghostly form clad all in white.

She untied the boat from its moorings and climbed into it, picking up the pole. It drifted a short distance from the pier, then stopped, as though stuck.

Persephone looked pensively into the water, using the pole to push against the pier. The boat resisted her again.

She had no desire to step into the water, but saw no other choice. She took off her sandals and tied them to her belt by their straps. She left the pole in the boat and hiked her chiton to knee length, tucking the excess into her belt, before jumping from the boat into the water.

She regretted this decision immediately. The water was colder than she’d anticipated, and the weight of her sodden chiton clung to her like a ballooning sack. Nevertheless, she took a breath and dived down, feeling around the sides of the boat for whatever it was caught upon.

After some groping around the hull, she thought she had found the problem. She surfaced for air, shivering as rivulets of water ran down her face. As she treaded water, she unsheathed her dagger, then dived down once more and began sawing through a fibrous cord that seemed to be holding the boat in place.

As she cut the last thread free, the boat began to drift to the side, no longer constrained. Persephone rose to the surface and gulped in a mouthful of air before grabbing the side of the boat. She sheathed her dagger, then clung to the boat with both hands, preparing herself to climb aboard.