The young man leaned over the rail of the the skiff to touch the water. "Wouldn't do that if I was you," the grizzled man at the tiller warned. Nikolai paused for a breath before he dipped his hand in the river and splashed some water on his face. He opened his eyes and stared in shock at a disturbingly accurate replica of his face shaped out of water. The simulacrum rose a couple finger spans above the surface of the river and seemed to follow the skiff.

Suddenly, the water began to roil. His watery doppleganger gaped in a silent scream of terror and pain as it began to dissolve. All around, other half formed faces rose and fell from the waves, each bearing a visage marred by fear or anguish. A liquid hand took shape, reaching out for the young passenger, and Nikolai threw himself back against the other side of the skiff.

Vayne laughed, it was a dry rasping sound. "It ain't called the River of Souls for nothing, boy!"