Page 6 of Beneath Swan Lake (Deadly Endings #2)
I leave Odette behind the treeline, and something tells me she’s going to make me pay for that later. But she’s acting odd, giving me no answers, and I prefer to meet my enemies head on instead of hiding. Whatever the dilemma is, I’d like to see it firsthand.
If she’s smart she won’t walk out from behind the trees, and all will be fine. I purposefully put her a good distance off, close enough I should notice if a swan flies by but far enough this wizard can’t easily find and strike her.
There’s something between these two, more than just his words, and this day has gone on long enough. I want answers and to get back to the tavern before it gets any later. Maybe Birdie will feel like answering some questions when this guy isn’t breathing down her neck.
“Ah,” the man says, eyes lighting up when he spots me again. There’s blue magic pulsing near his face, probably so he can see, and he’s got a glass container hanging in his hand. If he plans on using that he’s moving a little bit too slow. “There’s our Reaper. Raymundo, is it?”
I frown in the darkness, reaching back beneath my cloak to pull out the pixie dust I carry. Hiding it before was a must, but if we are about to hide behind fake pleasantries I may as well see him.
And more importantly, I want him to see me. The annoying magic and my own sharp eyes give me enough details to go off of, but having the full picture is never a bad thing.
He’s older than I am, with eyes that gleam with greed and magic that appears a little out of control. Instead of moving in gentle strokes, the blue light is almost popping from place to place erratically. I can’t imagine how much control he actually has over it.
“And you are…” I ask, crossing my arms. I want to see who he thinks he is, not the whispered words Odette kept saying. I’ve heard rumors of a wizard in Swan Lake, but I’ve never done much investigating into the truth behind the rumors.
His grin is wide, cocky. Even in the dark he manages to look like he knows everything that’s going on, taking a quick look around at the trees. It’s too dense to call this much of a clearing, but we aren’t sandwiched in as tightly as we could be.
“I am Dima,” he says with so much pride in his voice one would think he’s some type of king. But there are no guards, no courtly title, so I imagine he’s not as high on the political totem pole as he wants to be. “My mother Ysanna is a revered member of the court of Swan Lake.”
I roll that information over in my head, wondering why he feels this is such an important detail to share with me. Does he think I know nothing of the hierarchy over there? “King Leonardo and Queen Florence are the rulers of Swan Lake. I travel to the lake often enough to know the order of things in the kingdom, wizard. If memory serves, Ysanna is little more than an affiliate member of the court. Please, Dima, don’t add importance to a role where it doesn't exist.”
Dima sneers. “It’s a technicality.”
“It’s a fact,” I tell him, chuckling as I shift to lean on the nearest tree. I tug at my hood, ensuring it’s back in place since shadow hopping, and give him a meaningful look. “Order is important for the kingdom. Since Swan Lake is in my domain I make it my business to know the important happenings in the kingdom. And so far as I know the Swan Princess isn’t close to many, least of all you.”
“You don’t know anything, Reaper,” Dima growls, and I study his magic. When he’s angry, it turns into little bursts like crackles from a fire. When he was confident calling for Odette earlier it was steadier, like blue waves of air. “The princess is close to me. We’ve known each other a long time. She’s far from home and I need to ensure she gets home safe.”
“She will be,” I tell him, refusing to agree. If Odette trusted him, she wouldn’t be hiding and panicking. Dima has a dark side, but for what reason I have no idea. “And I’m sure she’s fully capable of deciding who she wants to accompany her across Mystica.”
Dima chuckles, and that mutated bird that’s wandering around with him starts to circle around us. I keep my eyes on it, because that thing’s the most demented looking beast I think I’ve ever seen. More than just a diet of Flowerborne messed up the poor thing.
“I appreciate your concern, Reaper. But I can care for my future wife alone.”
I wait to see if he’ll offer up some more information, but his lips press tightly together at my silence. Am I supposed to be jealous? If Odette’s supposed to marry him, I get the feeling that’s a nuptial that won’t end in I do.
But, no matter who Dima is, he needs to marry into the royal family to become a king.
When I don’t say anything, he clears his throat. “I am on a scouting mission looking for Princess Odette, actually. The King and Queen are terribly worried about her and want her home soon. I offered my services to ensure she returns safely.”
A mutated bird and a wizard are searching for a cursed, unwed princess? I snort, wondering if he really thinks I missed everything a few minutes ago. “Don’t worry, friend. I can bring Odette home. We ran into each other and I promised to return her home safely.”
I can’t see the princess, but I can imagine her fuming in the background. It gives me a small sense of satisfaction after dealing with her all evening. It’s become so dark that seeing through the trees is a mission in itself, and we won’t be returning to her home tonight. Too many things hide in the dark in Sherwood.
“Ah, I can take it from here-” Dima begins.
“Don’t trouble yourself,” I reply, turning away. “I already made the offer, so I shall see it through. We’re just about to contact the King and Queen ourselves. ”
Blue magic shoots in front of me, blocking my way, and it’s the kind of reaction I was waiting for. I glance back over my shoulder, eyeing Dima, who looks far less friendly than before. “Give her to me.”
“I’m not just going to hand over a princess,” I tell him with a laugh, slapping my hand through the air. It sends the shadows from my fingertips, and bursts through his weak barricade. “You should start heading back though. It’s such a long trek across Mystica on foot. By the time you arrive, Odette will already be settled back in at home.”
He sneers. I try to figure out what his issue is. If I were to buy his lie, why would the rulers of a kingdom in good standing with most of Mystica only send a single man and a bird. His hand twitches, and for a moment his gaze is drawn down to it. I follow, unsure if he realizes how good my eyes are even in the dark.
And I’m startled to find a severed eye floating around in the container. That couldn’t possibly be -
I jump back when he tries to strike me with that blue light, lifting my forearm to block the hit and sending out shadows with the other. Dima growls, his eyes widening with anger as I deflect the attack easily and reach for an arrow.
There was something about this man that I didn’t like from the start, and the fact that he’s carrying around an eye just intensifies the feeling. I should just shoot him, but I’m weak from fighting with Odette and don’t want to destroy the last of my magical reserves if we still need to get back to the tavern. I incline my head to him, unsure if he can even see my nod now in the dark as I speak. “Give my regards to the King and Queen.”
I fade into the shadows before he can do much else, pacing as I watch Dima look around madly. Part of the benefit of being Death is being able to hide where the living can’t see. It’s a pain if there are spirits hanging around that need to pass on, but for the most part we’re invisible like this. I walk the perimeter of our little space, waiting to see if Dima does anything telling.
Personally, I want to grab the container with the eye and see if it matches Birdie’s, but that involves getting too close. I don’t trust Dima’s strange mutated bird, and I don’t need to see what kind of chaos Dima can sire when he’s feeling threatened. The first thing he does when he can no longer see me is slide the container into his cloak again, so having the eye nearby matters to him.
There’s a rustle in the trees, and I’m positive it’s Odette. I don’t know what is up this girl’s ass about putting herself into danger, but staying put for a few minutes would do her wonders. Even if she does know Dima, it doesn’t sound like their encounters are ever happy ones.
Dima it seems isn’t deterred just because he can’t see me. He gives up looking for me in the dark, turning his head towards the other noises in Sherwood. If that’s Odette making things difficult I’m going to lose it. “I don’t think my bride can wait to be back with me.”
What is with the bride nonsense?
His attention shifts, and I glance around looking for signs of the princess. She should stick out with that feathery dress and light hair, but either it isn’t her or she’s doing a good job hiding in the dark. When no one responds to him, Dima takes it upon himself to keep the one-sided conversation going. “Come out and play, Odette. If you’re nice I might give back what I have.”
Hmm. I’m definitely going with the eye being hers.
“Or I could attack our friendly Reaper,” he goes on, and when he looks back I’m surprised his eyes look right at me. “I think he will take longer to cry than you do.”
I don’t process the words because suddenly the weak magic I’ve experienced so far is gone, and blue light shoots across the clearing towards me. I stand my ground, letting the magic roll over and through me. Even if he has power it’s not going to penetrate the shadows, and I don’t know if he’s realized this or not.
It does nothing to me, but it is enough to draw Odette from the trees.
Son of a bitch.
I need to know what kind of magic this wizard is using, because one moment he’s standing there with his magic turned on me, and the next he’s across the small space, hand wrapped around her throat, throwing the princess into a tree.
How did he even get over there? It reminds me of shadow hopping, but there’s no reason why he should have an ability like that. I take advantage of his temporary distraction, flying across the clearing and over to them .
There’s no sense in talking to him. If Odette won’t sit and wait a moment for me to do some digging then I can’t be bothered to stay here and ask more questions. Not when she has a penchant for danger as he keeps his hand gripped to her throat, squeezing as he slams her back into the bark of the tree.
“I told you to listen,” he sneers.
Odette groans, hands coming to grip over his wrist. She hasn’t shifted, and her nails rake across the skin on the back of his hands as she gasps for air. I let the shadows carry me between them, and he’s too lost in strangling her to acknowledge that I’m there until the shadows fall.
I only see his wide eyes for an instant before I force him back, Odette slamming into my back as he releases her neck. I let her sag into me, her body shaking as she coughs and slides down my back to the ground. I notch an arrow as the wizard regains his balance. His eyes are full of rage when he looks back at me.
“No one stands between me and my throne,” he hisses at the same moment that the arrow releases. He’s quick, flicking the arrow off coarse with his magic, but I’ve already released a second that slips past his defenses and slams into his shoulder.
He cries out, a pitiful noise, and I almost think he doesn’t deserve it after watching him carelessly strangle his so-called bride. He roars, gripping the arrow to pull it free while I notch another to shoot. The shadows are powerful, but there’s something deeply satisfying about shooting him after witnessing that.
Odette’s hand grips my leg, and I don’t dare look back at her. “L-leave him.”
Is that a tremble in her voice?
Her voice is no longer strong, a wobble to her words making me think she’s going to cry. And maybe she is, because his grip on her throat was vicious when he slammed her into the tree.
I don’t listen because, honestly, I have a bit of an issue with watching Dima putting his hands on her. I’ve always had a thing against that, and just because the Swan Princess was a pain in my ass all day doesn’t mean she’s the exception.
I let the third arrow fly just as he rips out the second, and his head rocks back at the impact as it strikes his arm. He takes a stumbling step backward, and I’d like to say it’s a killshot but it’s not. I didn’t aim for death. He’ll be able to survive it, and injuring him might be the only way I can question him.
“Aggie!”
That beastly bird rumbles towards us, and I force the shadows into it and steer it off course. The creature lumbers slowly, taking far too long to readjust and start turning. I’m not worried about the mutant swan getting the best of me.
“Raymundo.”
Odette’s voice is firmer when she speaks again, but still soft. While Dima’s busy writhing in pain I turn, eyeing her in the dark. I dropped the pixie dust as soon as I saw him grabbing her, so we are stuck in the darkness. I can still see enough details though. Her eye is pinched like she’s in pain, and one hand rests over her throat where his did.
Angry or not, I know a literal healer not far from here, and there’s no reason to leave the princess in pain. Not when she could shed some light on what’s going on, and maybe soothe the anger rolling through my chest.
There was no hesitation from either of them. Dima had no problems putting his hands on her, and she didn’t look surprised by it either. I’m a glutton for punishment, so I want the full, detailed story. After Rapunzel takes a look at her.
Scooping her into my arms, I don’t look back at Dima as I shadow hop. The tavern is closer than Swan Lake, and if he somehow follows me all the way home he can deal with another set of arrows in his body.
~~~
Odette passes out while we travel, and I’m a little winded when I touch down near the tavern. I would never shadow hop directly inside, and although my childhood room is upstairs it’s split with the second eldest child now, Tom. I love my brother, as I do all my siblings, but he tends to panic whenever I bring home someone injured. There’s no way to know without checking if Thomas is working behind the bar right now or not.
Zarev is usually the one I bring back with injuries. Before he went and met Rapunzel he would get into fights that sometimes took down even a Reaper. He would rest upstairs and Thomas would fret about him, wondering what could be done to ease his pain. I don’t know if Odette would adapt as well as my friend has to Tom’s worries.
I purposefully landed on the back side of the tavern, in the gated area used strictly only by my family and some overflow stock. It’s cramped sometimes but we still manage to have some spaces for ourselves, and there’s a large lot out back where there’s some farm animals, the barn, and of course some of the trinkets my sister Elsie holds onto. Mom keeps the extra wire back here too for when it’s time to add to the shoes strung above the tavern.
Grunting, I drop us against some of the hay. Odette’s still out cold, and the stress of the day settles over me when I’m no longer hiding in the shadows.
“Ray?”
I’m still catching my breath when I turn and eye the triplets. Saul is the one who spoke, which isn’t surprising since he’s the most vocal of the three. They are still young, their ninth birthday coming up in about six weeks. But the three sets of concerned eyes look between me and the princess, worry overflowing from them.
I nod to Saul, who immediately turns and starts tearing down some laundry. The three of them help lay it out on some of the hay, and I’d rather take Odette upstairs but this will do until Rapunzel looks at her. The princess went from running away from me to needing me in the span of an hour, and she might not like it if she wakes up alone in a room with me.
Once she’s on the ground, I take a proper look and cringe. Dima’s grip around her neck left patches of red and dark skin, and it’ll surely bruise. There’s also a teeny bit of blood on my palm when I lift my hands, and I hadn’t realized he caused her to bleed when he bashed her head into the tree.
Who the fuck does he think he is?
Peering down at my palm, I watch the blood dance across the shamrock carved into my palm. We all have scars from our time in the Red Queen’s lands, but we stumbled over into Camelot at one point after she sliced each of us up. The marks on my skin are pretty badly done, and I wouldn’t call the Queen an artist by any means. At least she decided to leave the scars on my palms, where I can hide the marks if I please. Lucius wears his scars on his cheeks, which is just another injustice she rained down on us.
Clearing my throat, I try to get my thoughts in order. Turning back to my brothers, I try to maintain a level of calm. “Go get Zelle.”
The triplets hesitate, looking between each other. “She went upstairs… with Zarev.”
But of course. Those two could go anywhere, so I don’t understand the urge to fuck in the crowded upstairs. If she needed sleep, Zarev would likely come back downstairs until I returned, so I have no doubts what they are doing. “Send Elsie or Thomas then. But I need the three of you to go inside and pretend all is well so no one else comes back here until Zelle is done. Do you hear me? ”
I receive a salute from each boy that I mirror, and then they rush inside. I don’t need to announce Rapunzel’s name out here where people will be listening, especially not when I have the Swan Princess laying here in the hay. I don’t have the energy to deal with another attack right now.
My eyes wander over Odette, looking for any other signs of distress. Her hair is sticky with sweat and blood, and those fluffy bangs fell back over her face and obscured most of both her eyes. That’s good, because my siblings would definitely ask where the missing one is. I brush back her hair, surveying her to see if there are any other marks. Since Rapunzel healed her not too long ago, anything that didn’t happen in the forest should be gone.
Dragging my fingers along her dress, I can’t help fingering the feathers once more, eyeing the black and white design. It holds up remarkably well for a garment that looks delicate, and I don’t think there’s even one feather out of place after the scuffle. It’s like the dress bends with her, and the fact that it doesn’t shred when she shifts is such an oddity.
I only have a few minutes to myself before Zarev and Rapunzel appear. They take the shadows, arriving soundlessly in the space without drawing attention. Her blue eyes are big, round saucers as she falls to her knees beside Odette, immediately cupping Odette’s hand.
“I thought you said you had things under control,” she breathes out.
“I did until there was a visitor,” I say, glancing up at Zarev. He cocks his head, trying to read between the lines. “Swan Lake has its own self-proclaimed wizard.”
Zarev raises an eyebrow. “A true wizard?”
“I’m not sure, but he can control blue light. It reminds me of-”
“Ban,” he grumbles. “His ice magic.”
I nod, and if Rapunzel’s curious she doesn’t show it, keeping her gaze on Odette. She’s completely focused, her eyes moving up and down the princess. “What happened to her throat?”
“The wizard likes getting his hands dirty,” I reply, a bite in my voice. I don’t like the possessive gleam I saw in his eyes as he strangled her, like he had done it before. “He got to her for a moment.”
Rapunzel nods, reaching back to touch Odette’s head. Her fingers come away red and she takes a shuddering breath. “He did that, too?”
“Yes he did. I didn’t give him the chance to do anything else.”
She doesn’t look up, her focus entirely on Odette as she worries her lip. The only injury I ever saw that gave Rapunzel issues was caused by her father’s gold. Zarev had to go all the way to the Red Woods to see Legs before the gold could be removed from his chest. But Rapunzel still takes her time, her fingers occasionally drifting to her own though. I can’t fathom what’s going on in her head.
Zarev sees it too, and his jaw clenches when he notices. “Just heal her, Rapunzel.”
My eyes sweep between them. Zarev's explained some of Rapunzel’s story to me, but I know there's just as much he's not willing to bring up. Rapunzel’s parents are dead, so if they were ever cruel to her that's never happening again.
Speaking of parents…
“When she wakes she should contact the King and Queen,” I say to him. There's a dim golden glow now as Rapunzel works, blankets the four of us. I meant what I said to Dima. “We didn't get around to that.”
“I imagine the ice wizard ruined that,” Zarev grumbles.
“It wasn't ice. It just reminded me of some of the magic Ban uses is all. It's like light, or lightning, but there’s no substance like the ice Ban creates.”
Zarev gives me a strange look. “But… it’s blue.”
I shrug. We haven't even gotten to the eye in a jar yet and I've already weirded out my friend. Any other words though die on my tongue as I peer out towards the trees. It's the white, billowing presence that calls to me.
I don’t have time for this.
“Spirits,” Zarev grumbles, and I move to rub my chest as the pull persists, my Reaper wanting to move towards the wandering souls and help them move on. It's no surprise the dead are finding us easily since the two of us are here, but it is a pain. “I'll handle it.”
I watch him slip into the shadows before turning back to Rapunzel. She’s healed the blossoming bruises around Odette’s throat, and her fluffy hair is now brushed off her face. It gives us a clear view of her missing eye. The empty space gapes, red and raw like this injury happened recently but I know better. Odette’s missing eye is one of the biggest rumors floating around Mystica. I don’t know exactly when it happened, but she’s been missing the eye for a long time.
Rapunzel glances up at me, worry evident on her face. “I couldn’t heal her eye.”
Maybe because I’m pretty sure it’s in a jar. I don’t say that though. Rapunzel looks tired and wary. Perhaps going back to the ruins of her home finally got to her, or she’s stuck on all the things that have happened tonight.
All because of one little princess.
“She should rest. Tom is downstairs working right now,” Rapunzel continues, standing and dusting off her palms. She doubles back, hands flying over Odette without touching. I keep forgetting that although she’s powerful, healing is something she hasn’t known about very long. Until she met Zarev she didn’t even interact with that many people.
I nod, shifting to grab Odette. If she’s not going to wake up I’ll take her up to the room now that she’s healed. The space is too cramped for all four of us to comfortably stand.
As I move, something else catches my attention. Zarev veered to the right when we saw the spirits, but the ghostly figures I spy are far to the left of the tavern.
Frowning, I hoist up Odette. Sure, we see the dead daily, but if there are enough spirits hanging around that I can see a collection of them, that's never a good sign. Usually we can find the dead ourselves and guide them without the need for the tethered spirits to find us.
“Hold on, I’ll take you both upstairs,” I say, and Rapunzel grips my arm without protest. She’s dealt with her fair share of ghosts, and unlike most people she can see the dead. I’m certain she doesn’t want to be part of sending them into the next life.
It’s a fast shadow hop upstairs, which is good since my energy is down and I’m bringing along two bodies. Rapunzel immediately lets go, looking around my room before moving to grab the lone chair.
I set Odette on the bed, and all she does is groan in response. She shifts once her body accepts the more comfortable space, the feathery dress looking less than ideal to move around in.
It’s already got a high slit on one side, one that I imagine is there to make walking easier since the skirt is so slim. As she moves the dress falls open, revealing her pale skin beneath.
And I frown at what I see.
There’s a little map of connecting scars across her upper thigh, disappearing beneath the fabric. If Rapunzel wasn’t in the room I’d yank her dress up higher and see how far the scarring goes. But when she notices, the golden princess hisses behind me, drawing my attention over my shoulder.
She’s gone a little pale, swallowing when she sees the scarring. “That’s… a lot of marks.”
“Yes it is,” I agree with a frown. The top of the dress is mostly open, the loose sleeves hiding little and an open neckline that reveals skin down to her collarbone. Nothing risky, but it’s not smothering her either. So either she doesn’t have more scarring up there, or it’s purposefully hidden where her clothing usually covers.
But those marks on her skin… who would hurt her?
Briefly Dima flashes through my mind, but I have no idea what his vendetta with the princess is. Ascending the throne is one thing, and marrying into the royal bloodline would speed things along, but Odette seemed more eager to let his wretched bird tear her apart than to humor the marriage proposal. I’m not sure what business he would have slicing her up.
“Ray,” Rapunzel says, and I glance up. She’s pointing out the window, past one of the high-strung lines of forgotten shoes, out towards the trees.
It looks like there’s more spirits out there than before. With a nod I leave her, knowing Odette will be in good hands.
When I reach the ground I’m surprised how many spirits there are. Behind the initial row of trees there’s got to be two dozen spirits roaming around. It’s a staggering amount of spirits in one place, and my eyebrows lift as I study them.
The dead don’t wear colors, they are mostly transparent and billowy white. It’s hard to distinguish where people are from unless they have something identifying on their clothing, but most of these men carry a single emblem.
I look around. Some of them are creeping up on me, drawn to the call of Death, while others mill around and a few even seem to be floating away. I clear my throat, and the spirits closest to me focus on my face. “You lot are from Camelot?”
Immediately there’s unrest among the group. Some spirits jerk back like I’ve physically struck them, others that were disinterested turn and focus on me for the first time. One man, a large hole in his chest, drifts closer. “Aye.”
“Then you’ve traveled a great distance seeking Death.”
The man narrows his eyes and shakes his head. Many in the group do the same. “Far? We weren’t that much more north of here. Those damned Flowerborne killed the troops. They can’t tell who’s on their side most of the time.”
That’s not good to hear. Recently there’s been a lot of activity from Camelot across the eastern side of Mystica, most of them moving down towards Tressa for an invasion. Arthur sent troops by sea to overtake the docks in Tressa, but the merfolk and beasts beneath the sea took care of that dilemma. The rest of Arthur’s army traveled through the woods to attack when the wall fell. None of that worked out, and I haven’t put a lot of thought into what happened to the soldiers moving by land. They didn’t disturb anything enough to alert me, and there was no sudden rush of spirits, so I kind of forgot about the issue until now.
I cock my head, deciding to feign ignorance with them. “What troops?”
“Friar, that’s enough,” a different spirit says, baring his teeth. “Don’t answer their questions. It’s none of your business Reaper.”
Studying them, I realize this collection of spirits has different levels of belief. Some seem stunned to see me, as though the rumors surrounding Death were never more than that. Others look apprehensive, and still more seem angry to find me here. “It is my business if you’re dying in my woods.”
Okay, it’s an exaggeration. No one truly owns Sherwood, and truth be told the space around the tavern is like muddy water. Zarev’s turf and mine clash here, and there’s no dividing line to determine if these spirits should technically be my problem or not. Whenever we’re together it’s easier to share the burden.
“Flowerborne,” another says, and I glance his way. “In the forest. They come with great beasts.”
I haven’t heard of any beasts, though those Flowerborne are beasts themselves. Flowers corrupted by the magic in the Red Woods up north, sub-human flower hybrids that rose from the earth and allied themselves with the Mad Queen. I’ve never really cared to figure out why they chose her.
But that doesn’t answer my question.
“The Flowerborne are beasts,” I say, reaching back to grab an arrow. It’s not as dramatic as the show Zarev puts on when he lets a spirit pass on with his scythe, but it works for me. Opening the door to the afterlife doesn’t have to be about theatrics. It’s better than Ban and his staff. At least Lucius uses a sword to get the job done.
“They chased us,” one of the ghosts says, piping up from onwards the back of the group. “Chased us and ate us in the forest like prey. We were only doing our jobs.”
“And what job was that?” I snap. There’s a rumble among the spirits, but no one offers a real answer. It’s probably too much to hope that they would.
“These Flowerborne are nothing like the ones I’ve seen before,” another spirit says, and that’s the great thing about the dead. Many want to admit to their sins, or their fears, before Death takes them away. It’s like confession, except we aren’t Gods. We’re the opposite if you ask me. “These monsters were… mutated. Wrong. They were big beastly birds and snakes and beavers and deer. Things that should be normal but were completely different. They ate the Flowerborne and mutated the beasts, and the flowers ran for their lives.”
I narrow my eyes. That part does remind me of Dima and his freakish bird, and I hate it. I’d much rather the jerk fade into oblivion, but mention of the beasts has my mind spinning. If Odette would wake up maybe she might be able to shed some light on things.
Banishing the thought, I try to focus on the only parts of this conversation that should matter. “Why are you so deep in Sherwood? Camelot is coastal.”
The spirits shift around me, but now their lips are sealed tight. I can’t help wondering what secrets are so important that sharing with Death is out of the question.
It makes no difference. I don’t have the patience to stand here all night and drill them. There are too many, and we don’t need anyone splitting off and turning mad for not crossing into the next life. Twirling the arrow between my fingers, I shake my head at them.
But instead of continuing to dig, I look up towards the tavern. There’s a princess up there that I want to question, and that won’t happen if I’m stuck out here. So when I twist the arrow around next, I drag the steel tip through the air. Zarev watches and doesn’t comment, so he has no complaints about me cutting this short.
It cuts into nothing, creating a tear in space. At first when I learned how to do this I thought it was my imagination playing tricks, but the arrow does cut into space. Some of the spirits surge forward, while others pull back. I hate forcing the dead through, but I won’t have anyone delaying death tonight.
Holding out my hand, I glare at the dead in turn. “It’s time you pass on, spirits.”