That wasn’t meant to reassure him in any way, and it most certainly didn’t. But I absolutely enjoyed pushing the buttons of any Reaper, not just Seeley. It helped pass the time, and it kept my mind from sinking into despair while we all waited for Taeral and his crew to get Death to help stop the Hermessi. With Zeriel out and with Rupert being the only one who could see me and talk to me, I figured I might as well try to get him to give my fiancé a message. By the time Zeriel returned, I hoped I’d have convinced Rupert to assist me.
He didn’t seem as hard-headed as Seeley. In fact, I could almost smell the vulnerabilities in his psyche. He nervously bit the inside of his cheek whenever he looked at me—as good a start as any, I thought, already weaving my strategy to get him on my side. The closer I inched to death, the bolder I became.
Taeral
When Kabbah had said to Varga that Death was in a bad mood, he definitely wasn’t kidding. I felt the sour taste on the tip of my tongue. The closer I got to her, the more acute it was. She kept a faint smile on her face, but the emotions she seemed to channel through me were the complete opposite. The air thickened whenever she sought my gaze.
“We didn’t want to have to do this, to be honest,” I said. “But we needed to talk to you. I must apologize for our brazenness.”
Death rolled her eyes at me, and for a moment, I thought this would be the end of the conversation. “Spare me the pleasantries and get on with it. I don’t have all day.”
“I figured Death would never be short on time,” Lumi cut in, still glowing like an evening star. She gave me a sideways glance. “I know,” she whispered. “I’m all shiny. I know…”
“Time is just an imaginary measurement tool. It bears no value to me,” Death replied. “However, I don’t like people chasing their tails around. I appreciate straightforwardness more than anything.”
“We need your help,” I blurted. “The Hermessi are trying to do the ritual again, and all our worlds are in peril. I understand you’ve stopped them before, over four million years ago. We wanted to—”
“Ugh. Can you please tell me something I don’t know?” Death grumbled. She sounded more like an angsty teenager and less like the ageless entity that commanded the death of all living things. It was an eerie sight, and I wasn’t sure whether I should take it seriously or not. She could still end me by simply snapping her fingers.
“We know less than you.” Eira sighed, a blue shimmer glazing her skin. I stilled, since I hadn’t even noticed this subtle change in her appearance. It did coincide with Lumi’s current state, so I figured it was related to their close proximity to Death. “What’s stopping you now?”
The question seemed to surprise her. “What do you mean, little Water child?” Death replied, her demeanor changing, darkening even.
“You stopped the first ritual. Why can’t you stop this one?” Eira formulated her question clearly. I had to admit, I was in awe of her. She’d been the most apprehensive about doing this in the first place, yet she was the one touching what clearly was a sensitive topic for Death.
“I must say, you and your friends are incredibly brave, if not stupid,” she said. “I should give credit where it’s due. You’ve uncovered things that have been kept hidden for millennia. You’ve kicked and punched your way through here. Your resilience is worth noting. But you are in over your heads.”
“Tell me something I don’t know,” I said, mimicking her.
Death laughed. “No one has come to see me in… ugh, I’ve lost track. Let’s say eons. Let’s go with eons. Perhaps I should be a tad more welcoming, even though you popped in unannounced. That would be considered rude in numerous cultures.”
“What happened to you?” Lumi asked her. “Help us understand.”
“The Hermessi happened to me. Their idiotic fanaticism, which clearly hasn’t dimmed over the years.” Death scoffed. “I warned them when they first came up with it, when they realized they could bend certain rules of the universe, that they could create the kind of magic that would unroot entire worlds and obliterate them. I told them not to do it, because it wasn’t their place to decide whether people live or die.”
“What is their job, exactly? Because we’ve only been told that they help create and nurture the worlds. The pink water is a giver of life, but it takes four elements on each planet to build, to bring about the growth of nature and its creatures,” I said.
“And that should’ve been it!” Death snapped. Oh, I’d definitely hit a good spot. “They should’ve stopped there. I have no idea how or when they came up with their wrecking-ball ritual. I only know that the entire universe groans with frustration whenever they try it. And no matter how many times I stop them, they keep doing it, over and over. Even if I destroy them, and other Hermessi take their place, it’s like this radical stubbornness is deeply embedded in their existence, somehow. I admit, it’s a mystery even to me.”
“You’ve stopped them more than once?” I managed, feeling my eyes bulge.
Death nodded, twirling a strand of ink-black hair between her delicate, pearlescent figures. “Since they were first made, they’ve been at this, and I was always there to slap them back into their places. For I am the end of everything, even the Hermessi. Yet, every damn time, they went back at it. They never learned to obey me. I find that irritating.”
“So, I feel like I must ask again, on behalf of all of us,” Lumi replied. “Why can’t you stop them now? What happened?”
“They took something of mine,” Death said. Her gaze darkened, sending icy shivers down my spine. She had a hard time saying these words out loud, and I couldn’t help feeling a tinge of thankfulness toward her. A being like her couldn’t possibly be comfortable with admitting to any kind of weakness, even if it had lasted only a moment. Beyond my astonishment regarding the fact that we were even standing here and having this conversation, I experienced a sense of… sympathy toward her plight.
“We could help you, if you let us,” I replied, without even thinking what I was signing myself up for. It didn’t matter. It was this or certain death for all of us. “We could get it back, whatever it is they stole from you.”
Lumi chuckled. “How did the Hermessi, clearly inferior to your magnanimous prowess, manage to steal from you? Frankly, I’m baffled.”
I shot the swamp witch the hardest stare I could muster. This wasn’t the time or the place to piss Death off, and I had no idea where Lumi was going with this. We had too much on the line to start stomping around like pit wolves in a porcelain shop.
Death narrowed her nightly eyes at Lumi, then at Eira and me. “I thought you were here for my help, not to insult me.”
“You’re not making it easy, I’ll give you that,” Lumi said, still utterly amused, while Eira and I scowled at her. I even cleared my throat to draw the swamp witch’s attention, but Lumi waved me away. “Oh, pish-posh! She’s just playing hard to get, and we don’t have time for this crap.”
Death shot to her feet, her silken dress rippling angrily across the black marble floor. Its edges crept toward us, itching to make us feel her wrath. I was tempted to stand back, but Lumi’s arm shot out, stopping me.
“Mind your tongue, swamp witch. I’m not someone you’d want to anger,” Death hissed.
Lumi’s glow intensified. She exhaled sharply, her voice shifting and startling me. I barely registered Eira’s hand gripping mine. “I know exactly what pisses you off, Sǐwáng,” Lumi replied dryly. “It’s having to admit your own shortcomings.”
For a moment, I thought this would definitely be curtains for us, until I realized that it was no longer Lumi talking. It was the Word, and Death seemed pleasantly surprised, if not downright amused, all of a sudden. Her behavior changed, leaving the rest of us speechless.
“I see you remembered my Chinese name,” Death said, putting on a most charming smile.
“Well, it was obvious by your décor here that you’ve retained your preference for the Far-Eastern peoples of Earth. You rarely change,” the Word replied.
Death moved away from her throne, gently gliding across the black marble toward us. My heart jumped in my throat as she stopped in front of Lumi. She was even more beautiful from up close, and my brain was dangerously close to a total shutdown in her presence. I could see the world’s beginning and end in those eyes, billions of galaxies exploding outward, racing across the universes, rushing to somewhere… At the very end, it all faded into the nothingness from which it would bloom once more. Rinse and repeat. I understood then exactly what Death thought of time, when she’d seen all these dimensions be born and then die, more than once. It dazzled me. My heart weighed a ton.
“I’ve missed you,” Death said to Lumi. “It’s an honor to have the Word in my home. Though I’d never thought you’d want to speak to me again, after last time.”
“What happened last time?” I heard myself ask, immediately regretting it.
Death and Lumi turned their heads to look at me. Their gazes were polar opposites, yet equally mesmerizing and terrifying. The night sky in Death’s eyes, versus the sea of pure white light in Lumi’s. The end of all things, and the Word… I understood then that my understanding of them both barely scratched the surface.
“I’m as old as Death,” the Word said through Lumi. “The two of us go a long way back. Now, be quiet. My sister and I need to talk.”
