She’d been here for the better part of an hour, and I couldn’t get enough of her. Having been like this before, in this state of seeing her but being unable to touch her, I couldn’t shake the feeling of déjà vu. This time, however, I was determined not to let such a fickle thing as my impending death stop me. I’d cheated the end before, and I would find a way to do it again, no matter what Kelara told me.
My Reaper was on the other side of the casing, watching us both. She didn’t seem pleased to see us tormented like this. I knew that, beneath that cold and sometimes cruel façade of hers, Kelara still had empathy for creatures like me, for the people she was in charge of reaping.
“I feel like we’ve been through this before,” River murmured, talking to me. “Only, it’s a little worse. But it’s nothing you and I can’t handle, right?”
“Of course,” I said, knowing she couldn’t hear me. I didn’t care, though. These things needed to be said, especially to the woman I loved more than anything in the world.
“I do hope you can at least hear me,” River continued, between deep and tormented breaths.
“I can, honey. I can hear you.”
Glancing around, I saw Lawrence next to Grace’s casing. To his right, Vita and Caia both slept, also isolated and surrounded by charmed crystal. The sight of them hurt me the most. I could handle myself in this situation, I could focus on what I might be able to do to get myself out of this mess—but seeing our daughter and our granddaughters like this made it extremely difficult to concentrate.
“It isn’t fair,” I said to Kelara. “You could at least show their spirits to me.”
By now, I’d learned that they were like me, tethered to their bodies by glowing life-chains whose links blackened, one at a time, as the Hermessi’s influence grew and more fae fell under it. We were headed for the four million mark, from what River had said earlier. Five million was even closer than before…
Grace, Caia, Vita, and all the other fae in the sanctuaries had Reapers by their side, as I had Kelara. But these agents of Death kept us from each other, forcing us into this isolation that just made everything worse.
“It’s for your own good,” Kelara replied. “Frankly, I don’t like it, either. But we can’t have spirits fraternizing in this place. It would lead to an uncontrollable mess.”
“Why, because you’re prohibited from forcing us to do anything against our will?” I shot back.
I’d understood that aspect of a Reaper’s job, too. They couldn’t compel us to do or say anything. They even had to basically convince us to move on, so they could reap us—granted, that almost always happened. It was inevitable, once the body was dead. In our case, however, natural death had yet to occur, and even if it did, it wouldn’t be exactly natural, per se. None of this was. The Hermessi were working against the very thing they were meant to preserve and protect, by killing us all, and Kelara was aware. But she didn’t seem to have a say in it. She was just here to do her job.
“Because it’ll make moving on even harder for you,” Kelara said firmly. “We’ve had this conversation before, Ben. Don’t make me say things that hurt you again. I told you, I don’t like it any more than you do.”
“But she’s my daughter.” I sighed, my voice breaking as I pointed at Grace. Lawrence was in tears, whispering something to her, and I couldn’t even see her, let alone hold her. “I just want to reassure her that everything will be okay, eventually.”
“How do you know that?” Kelara asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Because we’ve never let a small thing like death keep us apart for too long,” I retorted. “I know GASP, and I know my people better than you ever will. You heard my parents earlier. Tae and his crew are on Mortis already, about to speak to your boss. We’re not stopping until we find a way out.”
“And if you don’t? Would you feed your daughter false hopes?”
“No, I’d just… I’d just tell her that it’ll be okay, no matter what happens,” I insisted. “You gave your son away, Kelara. If you had an opportunity to say your last words to him, wouldn’t you? This is my daughter, for Pete’s sake. She’s a chunk of my soul, a piece of my heart, a reason for why I’ve fought everything that life and the universe have thrown at me since the day she was born. I just… I just need to see her.”
Kelara thought about it for a while, as River wiped her tears and rested her palms on the crystal casing above my head. The seconds that followed were the longest in my life. I waited, quietly, for Kelara to make a decision. I could feel her bending, ever so slightly, to my will. I was getting through to her, finally, so I had to be persuasive in my patience and not push her more than I already had.
Hope blossomed in my ethereal chest, but I kept a tight lid on it, unwilling to let it flourish unless Kelara said yes. She looked at me, warily. “If I let you see her for a bit, will you move on when it’s time?”
I blinked several times, wondering that myself, earnestly. Would I move on, if only to get a few minutes with my daughter, at least? Maybe. But was I out of options yet? Not so much. Still, the answer seemed logical at this point. I nodded.
“I would, yes.”
“Without opposition or bargaining or running off?” she asked.
That brought a new question to mind. Could I actually run off on her? Linger around like a ghost until I found another fae body, perhaps? Who’d give me a sweet deal like that again? The times had changed. No fae peddled souls and bodies like that anymore—not to my or GASP’s knowledge, anyway. Even so, I was too close to getting what I wanted from this Reaper, so I saved the question for later.
“Yes,” I said firmly.
Kelara bit her lower lip, her gaze fixed on Grace’s crystal casing. This is it. I can feel it. I am so close.
She exhaled and took out her scythe, whispering something against the curved blade. I heard my daughter’s name leave her lips. A gasp followed, but it didn’t come from her. Right next to Lawrence, Grace became visible, translucent and shimmering, like a wondrous summer night’s dream.
“D-Dad?” she managed, her lips quivering.
Behind her, a Reaper stood. Tall and stocky, wearing a black suit and white shirt like Kelara’s. He seemed angry, scowling at my Reaper.
“What the hell, Kelara?!” he barked.
Kelara sighed. “It’s just for five minutes, Malleus. Relax.”
“Dad, it’s you!” Grace exclaimed, lighting up like a firefly.
“It’s me, honey,” I said, smiling warmly at her. “It’s going to be okay, I promise you.”
“Oh, Dad, it’s so good to see you,” she murmured, her expression soft and burning with grief and longing. It mirrored my own state so well, I could almost feel her.
“Kelara, it’s against the rules!” Malleus snapped and moved around the crystal casing as he pointed his scythe at my Reaper. “You’ll pay dearly for this!”
Kelara stood her ground, though, narrowing her dark eyes at him. “Temporary rules we set in here. Nothing that goes against Death’s code, so lighten the hell up, Malleus.”
“No, if you do it, others will want to do it, and before we know it, it’ll be chaos!” he shouted and raised his scythe. I wasn’t sure what he intended to do with it, because it clearly didn’t scare Kelara. It startled Grace instead, who covered her mouth with her hands to stifle a gasp.
Kelara stomped her foot on the ground and tapped the blade of her scythe with her index and middle fingers. Before Malleus’s scythe could slash her, she ducked and brought the same hand she’d used to touch her blade up. She used it to tap Malleus’s wrist and whispered something. A triangular symbol lit up on his pale skin, and the sound of burning, sizzling skin startled me.
Malleus shrieked from the pain and nearly dropped his scythe. He was quick to put it in his other hand, as the other had been rendered limp and useless, hanging from his shoulder. “You bitch!” he snarled.
