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“The storm will end soon,” he says. “Then, a new storm will begin. You better get back to your post, Loviatar. The dead never stop coming.”

I stare at him for a moment, wishing I could read something in that universe of a face. “What do you know, Magician?”

“I know everything and yet nothing,” he says mildly. “But I know that you need to get back to your post, for your own good. Take that as a warning if you must.”

“A warning?” My heart starts to race again.

“If you know what’s best for you, you’ll stay as far away from Shadow’s End as you can. Do not leave your post unless someone comes to relieve you. The dead will rise up, and you need to be there.”

I frown at his choice of words. “But Tuonen will eventually take over again. We trade.”

The Magician doesn’t say anything for a moment. Then, he lets out what can only be described as a sigh, the sound of wind blowing through caves. “I am a subject of both your father and the Creator,” he begins. “I have an important role, as do you. It is thanks to the two of us that the City of Death and the afterlife for mortals continues. If things were to change, if our roles were to become obsolete, I’m not sure what I would do.”

“Why are you telling me all this?” I ask carefully.

He laughs grimly, like he knows a joke I don’t. “Because it’s important you stay alive. Even a Goddess can lose. Trust no one, Loviatar, not even your family.” Then, the Magician pauses, his voice dropping to an eerie register. “Especially not the ones you love.”

Chapter 7

Hanna

The Spider People

“Raila!” Death bellows as he brings his sword across another skeleton’s head. “Did you invite the spider creatures?”

They’re only here to help, Raila says from behind me as I dodge a skeleton who launches himself over Death’s shoulder and nearly knocks me down.

“Are you sure?” I ask, ducking as the skeleton swings its sword at me. “Because the last time I saw one of those creatures, it was about to devour Death’s Shadow Self whole.”

They knew he wasn’t the real Tuoni, Raila says.They will obey me and the king.

Fucking hope so, I think.

I crouch low—not an easy feat when you’re wearing a gown and holding two heavy swords—and kick out hard with my boot so that the skeleton’s leg breaks off at the knee and he collapses to the ground. Death quickly reaches back and grabs the skeleton by the hand, picking him up and flinging him through the air as he dissolves into dust that rains down on the advancing army.

The spider things are advancing as well, long, spindly yet thick black legs crawling along the sides and ceiling of the tunnel, reminding me of when I was child, sitting on our dock on the lake, seeing dock spiders crawling up through the cracks. They seemed huge to me at the time—if only I knew I’d be battling human-sized versions of them in the distant future.

Except, I’m not battling them, not yet. I watch as they crawl over the skeletons, demolishing them in their wake, breaking them into many pieces. They seem to be doing as Raila had hoped, definitely making it easier for Death and me to win this siege. But what happens once the spider things reach us? Will they obey Raila and Death? I don’t feel like I can bet on it, not now, not when the skeletons have already turned against him.

Besides, I saw these gross things devour a baby. Maybe I’m being too judgmental, but it’s definitely clouded my opinion about them.

The skeletons keep coming. A couple more get past Death, and I make swift work of them, Vipunen’s training seeming to pay off. The more skeletons I take down with my swords, the more confident I become. I know that if Death asked me how I was doing, I’d probably pull a Captain America and tell him “I can do this all day.”

But eventually, the skeletons die out in a pile of bones and ashes, and all that we’re left with are a dozen giant spider things at the end of the tunnel, staring at us.

Alright. This iswayworse than the skeleton army. Earlier, I had done my best not to look at the spider I came across in the tunnels, especially since there was a bigger danger at hand, but now, I don’t have much choice. The spiders are black and hairy, with a row of shining eyes down their backs, human-like hands at the end of their legs. Their heads are oblong with a hole in the middle, a mouth filled with rows of silver, needle-sharp teeth covered in fine hairs.

It makes me want to vomit.

I glance over my shoulder at Raila. If that’s what she looks like under that veil, I pray to God she never lifts it. I’ll be much happier pretending she’s just some regular murderous woman under there.

“Well,” Death says gruffly to the spider people, lowering his sword slightly. “I thank you for your help.”

Raila makes a series of unsettling chirping sounds.

“Are you translating for them?” I ask her. “Do they not know English?”

I am asking them for safe passage, she says.