Page 29 of Magpie
It’s the sinking feeling that hits me first. The sensation like my feet can’t find purchase. At first, I think I’ve stepped into mud, or something that gives under my feet. But the feeling is fleeting, lasting a split second before I realize I am not sinking.
I’m falling.
A scream bubbles up and gets caught in my throat as I plummet into the dark, and I watch in horror as the wings of the luna moth are ripped off by the force of the fall.
The luminescent glow dies, and a silent cry escapes my throat as I watch it go.
I will be relegated to this nightmare, this endless dark, forever.
It is the destiny I signed up for the moment I slid that iron key across the table to Alister.
I close my eyes, resigning myself to my fate.
It’s the pressing light against my eyelids that has me squinting, opening my eyes the barest fraction. I notice then that the sensation of falling is gone. I’m standing on solid ground, and before me is a specter.
She’s ghostly white, translucent and glimmering in the darkness, the only source of light emitting from within her.
As I continue to focus on her, I see the scenery beginning to lighten and take shape.
She’s sitting on a rock, her back to me, a rushing river pouring by her and crashing down in a waterfall.
“Come sit by me, Maggie,” she calls, her voice lilting, like gems cascading over each other. Her long, swooping snow-white hair spills down her back, dipping in the river around her legs and drifting in the current.
I step forward, pulled like a moth to her light.
As I get closer, I see she is not glowing with a soft white light; rather, she’s iridescent, a kaleidoscope of color in the pressing dark.
She turns and snares me in her jewel-toned gaze, her eyes shifting color like the rest of her as she smiles at me.
“I thought this was supposed to be a nightmare,” I say, transfixed by her, stepping into the river.
I nearly expected the current to surge around me and pull me away, but I find the river doesn’t affect me in the slightest. Wading through the water, I sit down on the mossy rock beside her.
I turn, looking out over the edge of the waterfall.
The river rushes down into the growing dark, and I think it might fall on endlessly.
“This is a nightmare for many, you included,” she says, her voice childlike and ancient at the same time.
I turn to look at her. “Who are you?” I ask, my eyes darting between hers.
She gives me a gentle smile, bumping my shoulder like we are old friends. “I’m the one you’ve been running from this whole time.”
My eyes grow wide, and fear seizes me.
“You’re Death,” I breathe.
I am rewarded with another bright peal of laughter.
She shakes her head. Her sparkling hair falls into her face, and she pushes it back, tucking it behind an ear as she says, “No, Maggie. You’ve been chasing my sister nearly your entire existence, desperate for her attention.
I am sorry to disappoint you, but I’m not her.
Most people try to outrun my sister, only too eager to learn how to avoid her.
There is an answer to that riddle, a solution to evading her. ”
She places her slim hand over mine. Looking down, I notice I’m still holding the charred bone with the jagged edge. The thread hangs limp off the bone, the moth long gone.
“What’s the answer?” I ask, not even sure what the question is.
“Life, Maggie. Life has always been the key to death.”
Realization dawns on me as I recognize her.
“You’re—” I begin to say, but she cuts me off.
“Tell Ronan his mother misses him.”
“Shit!” I shout, yanking my hand out of the silver at the first blinding sear of pain.
I fling the bone aside, hearing it clink and skitter across the floor as I cradle my injured hand to my chest. My arm shaking, I look down, expecting to see the melted ruin of my hand, but I stop when I see nothing but unmarred flesh.
I glare up at Ronan, hissing, “What the fuck was that, and why didn’t you give me any warning? ”
“He’s an ass like that,” Lyric says, startling me. I had forgotten she was here.
Ronan doesn’t pay me any mind as he follows the path of the bone where I flung it after feeling that momentary pain from the boiling silver.
“Your mother says hi,” I spit, hoping my words affect him, hoping they pierce him right in the heart. I’m bewildered, and my nerves are already frayed ropes, and I’m in no mood to play any more games with mages.
“That wasn’t my mother,” he grumbles, leaning over and retrieving something from the ground. His back is to me as he observes the item. “Only a friend of hers.”
Ronan turns and walks toward me, reaching out to take my wrist and yank it forward. He places something icy cold in my hand.
“I didn’t tell you because I honestly didn’t know if it would work or not. I didn’t want to get your hopes up in case she rejected you. Apparently, she found you worthy.”
I look curiously down at the black iron key in my hand, the shape of a moth on the end. I can almost imagine the creature is glowing.
I look at Ronan. “What did she find me worthy of?”
“Life, Maggie,” he says. “She gave you the key to life.”