“Does that mean he’s indebted to you?” Eira asked. She struck me as fiercely protective of Taeral. It was nice to see she had his back, even in front of Death. The Hermessi child had come a long way since we’d first met her. Crazy how the world ending changes a person.

Death looked at Eira, and I could swear she was scanning every fiber in her body, every thought and memory in her head. “You need not worry. I am the one who owes Taeral a great debt, not only for bringing Thieron back together and for stopping the Hermessi, but also for holding on to my beloved scythe while I get out of this mess. It is not an easy task I asked of him, and yet he obliged. Your concern for him is endearing. He deserves a soulmate like you.”

Eira blushed, stealing a glance at Taeral. He gave her a soft and loving smile, and I was more than happy to swoon over these two. Raphael held me close, his muscular frame nearly swallowing mine. He chuckled. “There you go, Phantom. The dream you made with us finally came true.”

The girl Reaper offered a smirk in return. “I based everything in that dream on reality. On what you were all feeling toward each other. The love was already there, between you and Amelia, between Varga and Eva, between Riza and Herakles, and, most importantly, between Taeral and Eira. Most of you just didn’t realize how deep your emotions went until I made you live them. Hell, even Brendel’s royalty ambitions were real. She wanted to lead. She wanted to rule, and the ritual was her best chance at establishing a new reign, where she was the leading entity.”

“That was a spectacular delusion, at best,” Soul interjected.

“Not necessarily,” Death replied. “Had Brendel succeeded, had the ritual gone ahead all the way to the very end… she would’ve become as powerful as the Word or me. No one knew that, of course, except Brendel. Well, and me.”

“We were told the end of the ritual was the death of five million fae, followed swiftly by a wave of destruction,” Taeral said, raising an eyebrow. “You mean to tell us you lied?”

Death shrugged. “Not exactly. I withheld a small detail. When the last life form in the ritual’s path died, the Hermessi’s powers would have tripled. Imagine what Brendel would’ve been like, then. She wouldn’t have needed the Spirit Bender’s help. I chose to focus on stopping the five million fae from dying, rather than leaving it all to the last minute.”

I nodded slowly. “That makes sense. What matters is that it’s over. Brendel is dead. The ritual is gone forever. And the Hermessi are back in their seats.”

“Thank you all for that,” Death replied. “Each and every one of you has been crucial to this moment. I will never forget it.”

Widow shook his head, his arms still crossed. Death looked at him.

“Is there something you wish to tell me?” she asked him.

“You keep doing this stuff with a mortal creature holding your most prized possession, Thieron, yet you won’t explain why. I am sorry, but I need more than that, after everything we did for you. I don’t care about the ritual or the Hermessi or any of that garbage. I just want to understand why Taeral is so special to you.”

“Also, I’d like to know what message you left us on that pebble? We had a hard time deciphering it,” Soul added meekly, like a student raising a hand in class, unsure of his question.

The shadow of a smile fluttered across Death’s face. “My darling Widow. I told you, Taeral is a future Reaper and a Hermessi heir. His bloodline makes him unique,” she said, then glanced at Soul. “As for the pebble, I’ll let you decipher and figure it out. You’re rusty, dear. A First Tenner should never be rusty.”

It sounded like a reprimand, and Soul seemed rather concerned by her response. He brought the pebble up for a moment to look at it. He scoffed and threw it far away, until it vanished beyond the horizon.

“What the hell did you do that for?” Phantom blurted.

“I’ve had enough of your games and secrecy,” Soul said to Death. “I am forever loyal and bound to you, even though you gave me and my siblings freedom. For that, I deserve a little bit of respect. Therefore, I don’t give two craps about the pebble message. I just wanted you to tell me, yourself.”

Death sighed deeply. “It said… Come to where it begins. It’s in a language we’ve not used in a long time. I’d thought one of you must’ve cracked it.”

Soul shook his head. “No. We found you, though. And thanks for telling me something clearly, for once… I appreciate it.”

“I’m still not fully on board with what’s going on here regarding Thieron and Taeral,” Widow grumbled. “Since you’ve become more open with Soul, can you elaborate this for me, as well?”

Death chuckled. “You’re really enjoying my captivity, aren’t you?”

Widow shrugged. “As long as it gets us answers.” His reply made her smile.

“The Hermessi are life-givers, thanks to the existence of pink water. Death is… well, death. Taeral is both life and death, in a certain sense. He has privileges because the universe has willed it. We cannot question that. We can only accept it,” she said.

A moment passed slowly as the concept sank in.

“Any one of us could hold on to Thieron while we work to set you free,” the Time Master said. “Why does it have to be him?” He glanced at Taeral. “No offense.”

“None taken,” Taeral replied. “I’m curious, as well.”

“Because he claimed it through the challenge, and because he’s a living creature and thus cannot use it the way any of you would,” Death replied. “Do not take this personally, Reapers. This isn’t about who’s worthy of holding the damn thing. It’s not Excalibur.”

“You’ve given it to me because I can’t play with it. I lack your knowledge,” Taeral concluded.

“Exactly,” she said.

“So you don’t trust us,” Widow grumbled.

Phantom groaned, somewhat frustrated. “Did you not see what the Spirit Bender did?! He was one of us! Our brother. Our friend. And he turned against her. What happens if one of us tries to do the same? How will Thieron be safe in our hands, if one of us did what Spirit did?”

“But we’re not Spirit,” Widow insisted.

“We’re not incorruptible, either, brother,” Soul chimed in. “I may not like the point that Death is making, but it is valid. I accept that premise, and I understand it. It doesn’t make us any less valuable.”

Widow thought about it for a few moments. Eventually, he conceded, lowering his head in a slow nod. “Fine. What do you want us to do?” he asked, his galaxy eyes fixated on Death.

She smiled, seemingly pleased with how the conversation had progressed.

“And how can I help?” Kelara asked.

“You, my dear, you’re staying here with me, and so will Dream and Nightmare,” Death said. “The three of you will work to break the remaining seals and get me out of here, hopefully before the century ends.”

“I am sorry I cannot help you with that,” the Word said through Lumi and Nethissis. “My power would have helped with Thieron, if you’d allowed me. The seals, I’m afraid, are a different business.”

“It’s fine,” Death replied. “The Spirit Bender learned too many of my tricks. This is my fault. I wasn’t careful. I trusted him too much.”

“Turns out neither of you are perfect.” I chuckled and instantly regretted it, as Death, Lumi, and Nethissis scowled at me. “Sorry.”

“No need to apologize. It is the truth, regardless of its inconvenience,” the Word replied. “I shall take my leave now and give you your friends back. Chances are we will all meet again. You GASP people have a knack for getting into all kinds of trouble.”

Death touched Lumi’s face, smiling softly. “I suppose our brethren will require some explanations about this in the future. I trust you’ll be by my side when that happens.”

The witches nodded. “You can count on me. I saw it all, from the very beginning. I understand what led to this.”

A split second later, the eerie glow of Lumi and Nethissis’s bodies faded, and the swamp witches were back to their original selves. Death nodded slowly and shifted her focus on Seeley.

“You, my darling, will go through all the sanctuaries and bring the fae back. You have that power now,” she said, and pointed a warning finger at him. “Mind you, it doesn’t mean you’re allowed to bring anyone else back. It doesn’t work like that. Five million fae is your limit. Afterward, you’re back to normal.”

Seeley bowed politely. He gave us all a brief glance. “It was an honor knowing you all,” he said, then focused on Nethissis, in particular. “I’m sorry for what happened to Acantha. I hope you have a good and beautiful life.”

Death smiled vaguely, noticing the dynamic between them. With everything that had happened, none of us had possessed the energy to observe how Seeley and Nethissis had stolen glances from one another, how they’d bonded.

Nethissis looked downright trodden by the prospect of never seeing him again. “That’s it? You’re leaving, then?”

“The living and the dead cannot meet. The same goes for the living and the Reapers,” Seeley replied. “Like I said, it was an honor.”