Page 23
Story: Princess of Death (Death #5)
“To believe in means to assume without proof. To know means to have evidence. I don’t believe the gods are real—I know they are.”
“How so?”
“I’ve seen the God of the Underworld in the flesh. In the dead forest where the trees never grow. It was just for a moment, but I know what I saw. He strikes deals with mortals, granting their wishes in exchange for debt.”
“What kind of wishes?” I asked.
“Any kind. Power. Wealth. Saving someone’s life…”
I felt my hope kindle from a dead fire.
“But the cost is great. So great it’s not worth paying.”
There was no price I wouldn’t pay to save my wife. “Where is the dead forest?”
Her eyes shifted back and forth between mine. “You’re too pure for such evil.”
“Where is the dead forest?” I repeated like I hadn’t heard her.
“To the north. Ten leagues from where we stand. You’ll know when you’re there.”
I snatched the vial off the counter and headed to the door. “Thank you.”
I paid for a horse from the stables and rode north through the afternoon.
The steed was fed and well rested, so I made the trip within a day, arriving at my destination at sunset.
Gael was still with my sons, and he would worry when I didn’t return by early evening.
But he wouldn’t look for me, would stay with my wife and sons because he knew that was my priority.
I knew I was in the right place the second I arrived.
All the trees were dead, like they’d been burned.
All the terrain prior to this had been lush and full in the heat of summer. But the skies above this forest were dark with rain clouds. The ground lacked any foliage. It was bare except for dried timber and rocks and dirt.
I tied my horse to a tree and made my way inside, unsure what to look for.
If I weren’t so desperate, I wouldn’t have taken the word of a madwoman dressed in shawls who ran a shop of potions.
Instead of traveling here, I could have been home with Anya, but I hoped with insanity that this myth was actually true.
I moved through the forest, dark and dank, an eerie hum distantly audible.
“Your purpose is a stampede of wild horses. Your intent is the beat of war drums.”
I stilled at the deep voice infecting my ear like a disease.
Then he appeared, in the midnight-blue uniform of a king, protected by black armor, short blond hair and eyes like the sea. Despite the fairness of his complexion, he had a hardness in his eyes full of malice.
My heart started to run at the speed my steed had traveled here, but my face maintained its apathy. My wife’s impending death was the worst thing that had happened to me, and it made everything else seem insignificant—even an encounter with an evil god.
“You do not fear me.” He smiled slightly.
“There is only one thing I fear—and it’s already come to pass.” The only thing worse would be the loss of one of my boys. It didn’t make me grateful that tragedy had chosen my wife instead, not when it should have chosen me.
“Most men come to me with greed in their hearts. They desire power and riches and revenge. But you’re prepared to pay a heavy price for someone else’s gain. Quite admirable.”
“How do you know this?—”
“ Because I know everything, Callum Riverside .” There was a sudden change, a flash that came and went quickly.
He was a man one moment and then a monster with horns the next—or perhaps my eyes played tricks on me.
“I will spare Anya’s life, but it comes at a heavy price.
I will rid her lungs of the disease that slowly kills her.
Her lungs will forever ache from the damage the infection has caused. But she will live.”
“Then we have a deal.”
His eyes smiled first, but then the mouth followed. “You’re either very naive or very desperate.”
“She’s sick because of me.” I didn’t want her to die, and I didn’t want to live with the guilt either.
“Because she braved the storm to get your son help,” he said slowly, like he was watching the scene behind his eyes. “Yes, you would have survived the cold without complication, but she was too delicate to do the same. She’s not nearly as strong or hearty as you are.”
The guilt frothed up my throat and into my mouth. I felt my lungs ache for air because it hurt. If I’d just stayed home, all of this could have been avoided. I was the one who should have cared for our boy—not her. I’d failed as a father. I’d failed as a husband.
“These are my terms,” he said. “Your soul for all eternity. To do my bidding without free will, to serve me in darkness forevermore. Your actions will be unspeakable, but you will have no choice but to commit them—over and over.”
“But she will live.” I clung to the hope instead of the darkness.
“Yes,” he said. “And when you return home, you will tell her that you’re leaving—not this life for the underworld, but your marriage for another woman.
At her weakest, you will abandon her and your sons and walk out the door forever.
You will never tell her the deal that you made with me, and if you do, the deal is void. ”
The ache stopped. “That’s barbaric.”
“As am I.” He smiled.
“I’m already giving you my soul for all eternity. Claiming my honor and integrity is unnecessary.”
“These are my terms,” he said simply.
“They’re unfair terms.”
He cocked his head slightly, his eyes growing angry.
“You fail to understand the heft of your request. It’s much easier to honor superficial desires like wealth and power, but to directly interfere with the living is a much greater matter.
It changes the course of the future, changes the impact on this world.
She will mother more children, children that shouldn’t have ever been born.
I need your soul to fester and sour and become more potent, which is why my demands are high. ”
I didn’t understand the last part about the festering of my soul, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to understand.
“Once you agree, it’s forever binding. It can never be undone. Think carefully, Callum Riverside.”
I didn’t have the time to think carefully.
I feared she wouldn’t even be alive by the time I made the return journey.
Instead of saying goodbye to my wife, I spent those last moments in a dark forest with the God of the Underworld.
Another failure on my part. This journey couldn’t be for nothing. “I don’t have time to think carefully.”
“Yes, she’s very close now.” He had no emotion, no empathy for the sick and the dying. “The fade has begun.”
“It’s bad enough to let my wife think the worst of me, but please don’t make me do it to my sons.” My eyes started to mist with pain. “I can’t let them think I just walked away from them.”
Without any trace of humanity, he just stared.
“That I don’t love them more than anything…”
Nothing.
My eyes watered further, at the crossroads of an impossible decision.
“Even if you’d left three hours ago, you still wouldn’t have made it back in time. She will die alone, your brother’s hand a poor substitute for your own. She stays on this side of the veil in the hope you’ll walk through the door, but her strength wanes.”
“Fuck.” I sniffed.
“What will you decide, Callum?”
“What will happen to her?” I asked quickly.
“If you agree? She will fall asleep. And when she wakes up tomorrow morning, she will feel the sunshine through the window. She will draw breath and feel the absence of the strain. She will be in disbelief at first—but then realize the sickness is gone. She will live a long and happy life. She will remarry and have more children. She will see old age.”
Tears continued to burn in my eyes because it was what she deserved. My sons wouldn’t have me, but they would have her. I would be hated and then replaced and forgotten, but they would have the life they deserved. “I agree to your terms.”
His eyes sharpened. “Last chance to change your mind.”
I closed my eyes and released a painful breath. “Save her…please.”
I tied the horse to the post then approached the house, my heart on fire in the pit of my stomach. I stared at the door, the last time I would ever see it, and it took all my strength to grab the handle and open it.
“Dad!” Darius was the first to run to me.
I almost broke into tears on the spot.
“Uncle Gael said Mom isn’t doing well.”
I squatted down and gripped him hard, harder than I ever had, my chin on his head.
Darius tried to move out of my hold, but I wouldn’t let him.
“Stay,” I ordered, using my angry voice even though I wasn’t angry.
He remained still and let me hold him.
Tiberius walked into the room, having my dark hair and my dark eyes. He was more sensitive than his brother, on the verge of tears like he knew tragedy was coming.
“Son, come here.” I opened my arm and hugged him too, holding both of my boys for the last time, my pride and joy, my whole fucking world. “I love you both—so fucking much.” I kissed each one of them on the head and squeezed them tightly. That was all I could say and keep my end of the deal.
But I wanted them to feel my love…and hope it was enough for them to remember.
“Callum?” My brother’s voice came from the bedroom.
I kissed them again then let them go. “Take care of your mother.”
They both stared at me like they didn’t understand how they would accomplish that when she was about to pass away, but they didn’t ask.
I walked into the bedroom and found her there, bone-white like she’d be dead in hours if the God of the Underworld didn’t keep her on this side of the veil, her eyes so weak she could barely lift them.
“Callum…”
Gael silently excused himself so I could have this final moment with my wife.
I took the seat where he’d been sitting and grabbed her hand.
For the last time.
I wanted to cry for what I was about to do. The way I was about to betray her, to lie to her face and act like I would ever desire another woman but her. I was about to burn my reputation to the ground, as a father and a husband, as everything that had ever mattered to me.
But she would live.
She would live.
I held on to that, because that was all I had.
“I love you,” she said, speaking words she thought would be her last.
“I love you too.” I felt the tears in my eyes and let them burn.
“Raise our sons to be men. Find happiness again.”
I swallowed. “That will be your burden, not mine.”
She had so little life left, but she had enough to furrow her eyebrows slightly.
He appeared behind her on the other side of the bed, watching the exchange with subtle glee in his eyes.
I kept my focus on her, on the touch of her hand. “Caring for you has become too much. I’ve found comfort in a woman at the tavern where I’ve spent my time lately. The burden of fatherhood and marriage has become too much for me.” I didn’t look at her as I said it because I would fucking die.
“Callum, I’m dying—and these are your last words to me?”
I stared at her ice-cold hand. “Maybe you’ll make it through the night?—”
“I won’t make it a few more minutes.”
I reached into my pocket and pulled out the vial of opium. “Drink this, and you’ll recover.” I let her hand go and didn’t reach for it again because I could already tell she didn’t want it.
“I don’t understand what’s happening right now.”
“I don’t want to care for you or the boys anymore.” It was the greatest feat of acting I’d ever done, better than the actors in the traveling theater that came to visit in the summertime. “I’ve met someone, and she’s who I want to be with.” I finally had the courage to look her in the eye.
She was heartbroken.
She was angry.
And she believed it.
I’d thought the hardest part of this would be convincing her of my infidelity and abandonment, but she believed it without protest or question.
That hurt more than selling my soul to the underworld.
How could she believe me so easily?
“Drink it.” I left the chair and uncorked the bottle so it would be easier for her to drink. She would sleep soundly through the night—and wake up to a new life. “Goodbye, Anya.” I turned my back on her and walked to the door.
I slowed down. Took my time.
It was the slowest I could move without actually stopping.
But she didn’t speak.
Didn’t protest.
Didn’t fight.
Just fucking believed it.
Without saying goodbye, I stepped into the hallway.
And waited.
Waited for her to say something .
She didn’t.
I heard the sound of the vial leave the nightstand and then return once she’d finished drinking it.
But that was it.
I headed to the front door.
My brother was on the couch with my boys, sitting in between them and comforting them both.
I opened the door and walked out. Couldn’t say goodbye to my boys. Couldn’t hug them again…because I might not let them go. I shut the door and walked through the night to where my horse waited.
Gael came after me. “What are you doing?”
I untied the reins and pulled the horse from the post.
“What are you doing?” he repeated, coming after me. “Is she gone?”
I didn’t know what to say to him, didn’t know how to explain any of this.
“Callum.” This time, he grabbed me by the arm and yanked on me. “What the fuck is going on?”
I shoved him off me.
He stumbled back, his eyes shocked at my rage.
“I’m done.”
“What does that mean?”
“Look after my sons, Gael.”
The horror moved into his face. “You’re just taking off? You’re going to abandon your family?—”
“You offered your help, and now I’m asking for it.” I climbed into the saddle and secured the reins in my hand.
My brother was older than me, but he was the one who looked up to me. But now, all the respect and reverence faded quicker than rain in the dry soil. “You’re a coward.”
I let the words wash over me—and then drown me in despair.
“Your wife is dying and your kids are scared, and you’re just going to leave?—”
I clapped my heels into the horse hard enough to make him take off at a run.
I left out of the gate and rode in the night, the moonlight my only illumination.
Torches from the village were visible in the distance.
I ran even though I had nowhere to go—nowhere to escape the pain I’d caused and the contract I’d signed.
“ Callum !”
Table of Contents
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