Page 176 of Till Death

“They’re not, though,” I argued. “They couldn’t help the role they were born into.”

Ezra’s eyes flashed around the table for backup, but no one spoke. He didn’t know about the madness. Just as Paesha and Orin had to learn, so would he.

“I didn’t kill you because I chose it. I did it because I physically had to, or I would have been forced to kill a slew of other people while trying to fight it. There wasn’t a choice there. Not for me, and not for them either. But I’m still sorry.”

He lowered his chin, the depth of his voice all-consuming and serious. “I don’t need your apology. You’ve given it once, and that’s enough. But you do have to try to understand the minds of the people here, or you’ll never be able to rule them.”

“We won’t be ruling anyone,” Orin said with complete finality. “Every person who wishes to leave can and will. From what I’ve gathered, I can’t do anything about the Lake of Lost Souls, but everyone else can be freed. They can reincarnate, should they choose to, and go back to live another life cycle.”

“Even the Whispers?” Paesha breathed.

“Even the Whispers,” he answered.

And so we began. With no clocks and no true sense of time, no passing sunlight, nor shift in moon, the day grew long. The discomfort of the castle’s sordid memories loomed over everyone, so we agreed to work in the yard just outside. With the help of Fluffy and Ruffles, and the shadows most still feared, Orin and Ezra kept the crowd in line, while Paesha ushered soul after tortured soul to meet with me. One by one, we released them into the ether, setting them on whatever course was necessary for reincarnation.

Even the harbingers had come, including Icharius. They’d kept their heads down and their place in the shifting line, and though I tried to concentrate on each soul that came, I couldn’t help but watch as they moved closer and closer.

Hours into the job, the people began to look at me in awe, jaws slacked and eyes wide as I wished them peace and sliced a little more away from my power. Until I was drained and sagging and every bone in my body weighed a hundred pounds. But still, the harbingers crept forward. I wanted to get to them so badly. I pushed myself beyond limits I knew possible. Until they came, shifting in and taking my hands with greater anticipation than most of the others. Because this was not an escape from Death’s realm for them. It was an escape from reality. From the memories that haunted them, just as they’d haunted me, and they had all seen so much more bloodshed. They hadn’t had a kernel of light in them, keeping the madness at bay.

But they were free now, each one of them fading to embers on a soft breeze as they were released back into the ether.

I pushed myself until I couldn’t feel my fingers and every muscle ached, until the back of my eyelids felt like they’d been dragged across a thousand sandy beaches. Until Orin stepped in, pulling me away when I could no longer stand. And each day was a repeated cycle of this one. With hints from Paesha that we needed to find a doorway back, there was pressure to complete this process, even if she hadn’t meant for there to be. She wasn’t eager to leave Ezra, and I knew it, but still, she worried about Quill every day, even walking through each potential threat Drexel might’ve left for her. For her peace of mind, we’d worked together to convince her that Drexel had only said what he’d said to bother her, but none of us could truly know that, and each day she grew more and more wary.

The eager crowd dwindled until we were left with only the Whispering Grove and about three hundred souls who’d chosen to stay and rest in Orin’s promised peace rather than return to the unknown of Requiem’s future.

I hadn’t seen Hollis since Death’s demise. I’d watched for him among the faces, of course, and Paesha had gone to check on him and make sure he was still with us, but he hadn’t come. Hadn’t been able to tear himself away from the happiness he’d found with the spirit of his young wife.

So, when we approached the very edge of the Whispering Grove to find him standing there, staring at a pocket watch with the soft blue light of the trees casting his perfect silhouette our way, we stopped. All of us, hand in hand, staring at the kind old man who would likely leave us all on this day. We drank in the moment, the absolute gift it was to be able to look upon him one final time.

“I’m not ready,” Paesha whispered.

I squeezed her hand, swallowing the lump in my throat. “No. But he is.”

Chapter 68

“Ican’t tell you the last time I’ve seen your eyes shine so bright,” Hollis said, opening his arms to Ezra. “There’s joy here. At last.”

I chanced a glance at Paesha. Her eyes were sad, but I wasn’t sure if it was because of the goodbye to Hollis or because she was determined to get back to Quill, and leaving Ezra behind was going to hurt her and him all over again. The joy was fleeting. And she was the most loyal of us all to leave love behind temporarily for the protection of a child. A kindred spirit.

“Orin, my boy.” Hollis pulled him into a hug next, then placed wrinkled hands on the side of his face to stare into his eyes. “So, it’s true, then. The things they whisper.”

Orin lifted a shoulder. “Must be.”

“Then be honorable. Make hard decisions as carefully as you always have, and never let the music inside you fade.”

“You’ve been like a father to me, Hollis,” he answered, clearing his throat. “You know you’re welcome to stay. I wouldn’t take you for granted. I’d help you however I could.”

Hollis’s sad smile was like a vise to my heart. “I hope one day you’ll forgive me for going, Orin. There’s nothing in this realm that you need an old man for. I promise. Except the clothes, but even then, there’s bound to be a tailor coming along.” He reached up to his chest pocket and unclipped the watch hanging by a chain before placing it into Orin’s trembling fingers. “Dahlia gave me this the day I arrived. She remembered how much I loved mine, even in her madness, and she’d been saving it for me.”

“I can’t accept this, Hol,” Orin said, shaking his head.

But the old man simply closed Orin’s fingers over the pocket watch and smiled once more. “It’s of no use to me now.”

“Maybe I’ll find you in your next life and return it,” he said.

“That would be fine, son. Just fine.”

He came to me next, his outline blurry through tears I didn’t shed. “No goodbyes, Old Man.”