“Oh, wow… no,” I said. “That is still a hard rule. Death doesn’t want the living and the dead talking, regardless of the circumstances. It makes moving on much harder for the spirits and letting go more painful for those they leave behind.”
“But you’re trying to save us.”
“And if I fail? If the ritual happens, and you die? What then? Death doesn’t bring people back to life. The rules will still apply.”
“Ben came back,” she mumbled, pouting like a little girl. “And Lucas—”
“They cheated. That was a loophole that has long since been closed, Vesta. Don’t push it. I managed to get you this much; don’t ask for the impossible,” I said firmly. Drawing a deep breath, I chose a softer tone. “I’ll be back, and hopefully, you won’t have to ask a Reaper such questions again. My job now is to make sure you get to live a long and natural life.”
She seemed to accept my response, but I knew that, deep down, she was already making plans for how to bring this up with Rudolph or some other, more flexible Reapers. Vesta was likely to drag Ben, Lucas, Kailyn, Caia, Vita, and Grace into this, as well. She didn’t respond well to “no,” in general. While I found that admirable, it could also be dangerous.
Rudolph had a clue as to what Vesta was capable of, but without me here, I worried he might end up doing her bidding. On one hand, it worried me, because the punishment for breaking such rules would befall me, not her and not Rudolph, since Vesta was my charge, even with Rudolph watching her. On the other hand, I was a bit curious, even slightly eager to see what she’d be able to pull off. I wasn’t one to budge easily, yet she’d managed to make me go to Hellym and kill Yamani before other Reapers could intervene—though it would’ve been too late, had I not gotten involved.
“You be careful out there,” she whispered. I welcomed the warmth and the concern. I’d not felt in a very long time.
“I’ll see you in a bit,” I said, smiling, and made myself vanish.
As far as Vesta was concerned, I was no longer here. No one else could see me, either. Not the Reapers or the spirits they guarded. Death had tapped the blade of my scythe during our meeting on Mortis. She’d given me this enhanced ability so I could steer clear of anything and anyone, if needed—including the Hermessi and the Reapers. I wondered why she’d made it possible for me to hide from Reapers. They were my people. I had nothing to fear from them.
Vesta was quick to go back to the Novaks, while I took a few minutes to observe them, quietly. Ben seemed hopeful, fawning over his daughter and granddaughters. Kailyn kept looking around, hoping to see Aiden or at least Hunter, sometime soon. Both had been quite busy, and they hadn’t had as much time to be with her in the sanctuary. In their defense, they’d been active against the Hermessi and their death cults, likely unable to stay in one place, not even by Kailyn’s side, until they stopped this ritual. I understood their mindset well.
Lucas, unsurprisingly, was grouchy and still unwilling to go down easily. Even if the Hermessi won, I had a hard time seeing him go into the next world without any form of protest. I could see Lucas wandering through a new world for thousands of years, as fearful of death now as before. He had that in common with the rest of his fae clan and Vesta. They insisted it was the love of life that kept them here, but… in the end, it wasn’t. The fear of the unknown was much more powerful. They had no idea what waited on the other side, and it wasn’t in our power to tell them. Dying took a leap of faith that not everyone had.
“We can’t just stand here,” Lucas said, his voice low. The Reapers were always nearby, but they did allow the fae some personal space, which Vesta and the Novaks used as best as they could—by congregating and discussing ways for them to get more involved against the Hermessi. “We’re useless right now.”
“What do you suggest? We’re practically ghosts!” Vita said. The fae with one link left was surrounded by other spirits, each of them trying to boost his morale. There wasn’t much else that Vesta and the Novaks could do, in that regard. Vita was right—they didn’t have other things to do. I squirmed, imagining the onset of boredom as one waited to be rescued or, worse even, die. I wouldn’t have wished it upon my enemies, let alone these innocent creatures.
“I don’t know. I was hoping one of you had an idea,” he replied.
Vesta shrugged. “I managed to let Zeriel know I’m here. I even answered some yes or no questions. We could work on that, maybe?”
“To what end? Friendly conversation?” Lucas said irritably, visibly displeased.
“Maybe talk to your wife and daughter the next time they come around?” Vesta said, her tone clipped. “We’re spirits, Lucas. We can’t do anything, especially since we’re still tethered to our bodies. The best we can do is strengthen our ability to communicate with the living.”
The Novak girls nodded in unison, definitely open to the idea. “I know Mom would want to hear from me,” Grace said. “Not to mention Vita and Caia.”
“I’d like to be able to speak to River,” Ben replied, giving Vesta a hopeful look. “Think you can teach us a trick or two?”
“I can try. But I can’t promise anything. I think it has to do with our individual spiritual power and our ability to pierce through the veil,” Vesta said. “According to Seeley, it’s a rule set in stone that the dead and the living should never speak.”
Lucas smirked. “But we’re not exactly dead, are we?”
“Exactly. So there’s a loophole,” Vesta replied. “And I’m sure Marion would love to hear from you ASAP, not to mention Avril.”
I moved back from their group, smiling. She was already coaxing the other spirits into communicating with the living. She was bound to try to get Rudolph to make the fae visible to the others. It was only a matter of time. I gave her four hours, at most, before she’d make the first attempt to persuade her substitute Reaper.
By then, I’d be long gone, all the way to Cerix, shadowing Taeral and his team. Death’s revelations about the young fae king had brought a sense of renewed hope regarding his ability to defeat the Hermessi. It no longer seemed as impossible as before, knowing what I knew now.
It wasn’t going to be easy, and it could still get them all killed. But their odds had improved the moment they’d set foot on Mortis. Their courage had brought them to Death’s doorstep, and I had nothing but admiration for these people. I’d spent centuries wondering if I’d ever get to meet her myself, while they’d simply gone out and dug deep enough until they found out where she lived.
If anyone could fight the Hermessi, it was them. And I found it would be an honor to be by their side when that came to happen. If they won, it would be a miracle. If they lost, they were bound to go down swinging. I figured it was part of the GASP spirit—when the universe slams the door in your face, you kick a hole through the wall.
Taeral
My eyes peeled open, unaccustomed to The Shade’s permanent night. I’d expected a ray of morning sunshine cutting through the room, but the moon and stars were still out, despite the wall clock chiming the sixth hour of a new day.
Something stirred in my arms. Something warm and soft. Looking down, I froze. Eira had been sleeping here, with me, her head resting on my chest, her legs intertwined with mine. In an instant, my heart began its savage gallop as I tried to remember how we’d ended up here, on the wide sofa in my guest treehouse.
We’d gotten back late, well past midnight. We’d both been exhausted, but we’d decided to spend another hour or so going over the mission for Cerix. Eira had felt the need to tell me more about the military, in particular, and the ancient sites she knew of across the empire—we’d assumed that Eirexis would be somewhere beneath the oldest parts of Cerix, since it had been brought there over four million years ago, long before the Cerixians had even evolved into a tribal culture.
We’d talked about Fallon’s peculiar connection to the Hermessi and his reaction to their presence, based on what Derek and Sofia had told us upon our return from the Fire Star. We’d discussed Tebir’s proposal for Yahwen, too. Settled in the living room, we must’ve fallen asleep at some point.
Listening to her even breathing, I let my head fall back on the cushion. I didn’t want to move a single muscle, worried I might wake her up. She looked so peaceful in her deep sleep. She’d needed the rest as much as anyone else. Eira’s biology was closer to that of humans than fae or other supernaturals, and the lack of sleep could easily show, slowing her down and wearing her out. If I could give her another thirty minutes, I didn’t mind lying still like this.
Going back over last night, I realized I must’ve been exhausted, myself, since I only had a partial recollection. I’d definitely agreed with Derek and Sofia about bringing the Hermessi children into The Shade and transferring the fae into the Calliope sanctuary. I’d discussed this with Eira last night as well. That had actually been the last topic we’d touched on prior to basically blacking out. Sometime during the night, I remembered waking up for maybe a few seconds.
I’d been lying on my side on the sofa, and Eira had fallen asleep in a sitting position. I’d gently pulled her next to me, since there was enough room for the both of us, width- and length-wise. She’d felt nothing, settling in my arms as if she belonged in them.
A smile tried my lips as I wondered when and how we’d gotten to this moment. What were the decisions that we’d made, individually, to bring us closer together? Most importantly, what was my heart telling me whenever I looked at Eira? It didn’t drum hysterically like it had done with Inalia, but there was a different rhythm to it. There was a deeper, more meaningful reaction at play, and I’d yet to figure it out. What I’d felt for Inalia seemed more like an intense crush now, as opposed to Eira. Maybe there would’ve been something meaningful between us, had we had a chance to try. But we didn’t. That opportunity had long since passed. Eira stirred a different set of emotions inside me, on a more… profound level.
The one thing I knew for certain was that, unless we stopped the Hermessi, I’d never get to understand what this was, quietly blossoming between us. I’d never get to talk to her about it, not to mention act on it. But this felt nice. And it was barely six o’clock.
Eira’s head shot up. She gave me a confused and startled look. “What time is it?” she asked, her voice sweet and raspy. The cinnamon tan of her skin created a stunning contrast with her pale blond hair and aqua-blue eyes, which were slightly puffy from sleep.
“It’s six,” I said. My hands had settled on the small of her back, and I could feel her muscles beneath the linen fabric. We’d both changed into more comfortable clothes prior to sitting down to talk about our Hermessi problems.
“And what am I doing here?”
“What? You slept here. We both slept,” I croaked, suddenly feeling like the walls were closing in on me. As if I’d done something wrong by letting her rest comfortably. She’d yet to remember the circumstances which had brought her into this position, and she hadn’t felt me move her during the night. I did owe her an explanation. “You dozed off in an uncomfortable position,” I added. “All I did was let you lie down.”
“On top of you?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Is that such a big problem? Do I repulse you?”
I kept my face straight. I didn’t want a smile to give the joke away. She blinked rapidly, suddenly realizing that there was no reason for her to be alarmed, in any case. “No. It’s not that. I…” Her voice trailed off, but her gaze was fixed on mine. Lots of things were said in this silence, things that neither of us would have the courage to say out loud. Not yet, anyway. “I forgot I was here.”
“I know. For the record, I was in no way disrespectful toward you.”
Her forehead smoothed. “I didn’t imply that—oh, for…” She got up, pulling her hair loose from its messy bun, then back into a smoother, tighter one. “I just got confused. I didn’t mean to suggest you’d done anything… I don’t know, improper.”
Her cheeks burst into delicate swirls of pink blush, and it became increasingly difficult to contain my impending laughter. She must’ve noticed the grin slitting my face from ear to ear, because she scoffed, then laughed lightly and gave me a playful slap on the shoulder.
“You’re such a clown,” she reprimanded me, still giggling.
“I do apologize, but you were a relatively easy target,” I said.
“That’s true. I guess I should work on my fierceness,” she replied, and exhaled sharply. “I’m still a lieutenant of the Cerixian army, after all.”
