Chapter 16 #2
More riddles. It had been so much easier when he’d been just a special ghost inside my head.
I could feel him watching me, so I flicked my gaze back to his face. Our eyes met again, and I saw an intensity there that made my breath catch.
“Why are you here, chained in the basement of Riverbend Manor?” I asked.
“I’ve told you already. I was summoned by the master of this house.”
“You make it sound as if he sent you a polite letter requesting your presence.”
He snorted softly. “No, he summoned me here by magical means and tricked me into this trap.” Slowly he lifted both hands and tilted his head toward the ceiling; my eyes followed.
The slithering circle above his head.
“That is your trap?” I asked.
He nodded. “Just a few markings on plaster. Funny, in a way, that a human can wield as much power as a god with a little ancient knowledge and a simple stick of chalk.”
Another chill crested over my skin. “When we went into town, it was to pick up an order of cascarilla chalk that had been specially ordered by Master Voss.”
“Master of fools,” he scoffed under his breath, eyes narrowing. “I wouldn’t be in this situation if your so-called master had actually summoned my father and bargained for eternal life, because that is what all occultists seem to do eventually.”
“Wait, so Voss tried to summon your father, Death himself?”
“Tried,” he emphasized. “Unfortunately, your master did not possess the skills to do that, and I ended up being summoned in my father’s stead.
In a way, I suppose your master should feel lucky that he got me, because my father would have ripped the soul from his body before your master could finish his crude ritual. ”
I hesitated. “But… you weren’t able to? Do what your father would’ve done?”
The features of his face softened. He was amused by my question. “It’s true, I could not. My family will all…” He shook his head, looking lost for a moment. “It doesn’t matter. I guess the point I wanted to make is that Voss caught me unaware, much as he did you.”
“You keep saying that, but I’ve already told you that I left the estate.”
“Alone? Without Voss’s presence? He would have likely been touching you when you exited through the gates.”
I hesitated. Of course I hadn’t tried to leave the estate without Voss, so I didn’t know the answer to that. But now I was remembering Voss’s unrelenting grip on my hand when we were leaving the estate. “He said he was feeling ill…”
“Lies fall from your master’s tongue like rain. Never forget that.” Nin uncrossed his arms to gesture loosely and said, “But to answer your original question more honestly—no, I couldn’t do what my father can, because killing humans is not something that comes naturally to me.”
“To the son of Death?”
“I am the Prince of Mourning,” he explained.
“My function comes after death. I am Grief itself. I help those whose cannot let go of their loved ones, offering them a path to acceptance. I preserve memories of the dead and comfort the living.” His gaze dropped and a wistful look crossed his face.
“At least, I used to, until Voss imprisoned me.”
I struggled to understand and glanced down at the book in my hand. “You really are… a god?”
“I am me.”
“That isn’t an answer,” I said.
He reconsidered. “You might refer to me as a demigod.”
Aren’t demigods half human? Maybe he meant something different. “You possess… godlike powers?”
He shrugged loosely. “I have talents that exceed human limits, but in my official function, I use them to serve all of humanity. And the longer I’m here, the more I wonder if I’ll ever be myself again.
” He glanced up at the ceiling. “If it was just this silly occult trap, I’d have been long gone.
The aegis border outside is the stronger binding.
I don’t know where he found the spell to create it, but it is very old magic. ”
“How long have you been here? Trapped in the manor?”
“Six weeks and two days.”
“Six weeks?”
“And two days,” he repeated.
It was October now. “Agnes Voss died in August. You were summoned here before or after her death?”
“Five days before.”
Huh. Was there something he wasn’t saying? It felt that way. “You said Voss was trying to summon your father. Why?”
He shrugged loosely. “The same reason they all do. Once someone becomes aware of their impending death, they often do anything to prevent it.”
I recalled the passage inside the red book. “Voss wanted immortality?”
“And I don’t have the power to offer that.”
“So why keep you here?”
“I suppose you’d have to ask your master that. But I’d advise against it because you might find yourself in my shoes.” He gave me a humorless smile and lifted his arms to gesture around him. “All this could be yours.”
I glanced around his space, and there was nothing. No bedding, no place to sleep. Nothing but the stone floor and all these painted occult symbols. “Do the servants come down here and feed you?”
“The servants don’t come down here. Not even Hoffmann.” He paused. “I don’t require human food.”
“But you clearly get injured,” I said, lifting my chin toward his shoulder.
Something like shame crossed his face. “That was unexpected. I’ve never been trapped before. I don’t understand this strange magic or its effect on me. I just know that I need to get back home. I cannot perform my duties while bound. And my family…”
“What about your family?”
He shook his head. “It’s too complicated to explain, and as I’ve cautioned you several times before, you shouldn’t be here.”
“Is Voss awake? Is that why you’re chained up instead of roaming the halls?”
“Voss’s sleep has been erratic all night. Which is why you shouldn’t be in the crypt. I told you I’d come to you.”
“And I don’t follow rules until I know there’s a good reason for them.”
Without warning, Nin stepped toward me. His shackle fell away from his boot in a blur, clanging noisily as it fell to the ground, and then his long face was—
Right above mine.
I gasped reflexively, leaning away. But before I could step backward, he said, “The reason is that your master has a magical device that allows him to see all the souls inside this manor, much in the way that I do—I believe you know what I mean.”
I nodded, recalling all the golden souls I’d been able to see when he’d held me outside.
A tremble began somewhere in the middle of me and spread down my arms. I swallowed hard, unsure if I was frightened of Nin. He won’t hurt you, I told myself. But I didn’t really know that for sure, did I? I had no idea what power he wielded.
In the middle of all these wild, panicked thoughts racing through my head, I was brought back to reality by the scent of infection. My eyes darted to his shoulder, and my panic faded as it always did when I knew my nursing skills were needed.
“You promised you’d let me examine that,” I said.
“I was hoping you’d forget.”
“No chance.”
“Well, then…,” Nin mumbled, looking a little defeated. And very proud. “My word is my bond.”
He started to reach for his coat; then his eyes narrowed. His head jerked upward. “He’s fully awake now. Leave, Molly, before your master decides to see where everyone is inside the manor. He cannot know we’re conspiring, or he’ll take it out on you, and I can’t abide that. Now, Molly!”
His tone was dead serious, and I wasn’t about to argue.
With my lantern in one hand and the red book in the other, I tossed him one final look before rushing away, past Agnes Voss’s flower-strewn crypt.
I was about to duck into the long hallway that led to the stairs when he called out to me from the shadows.
“I’ll find you tomorrow. Be careful of your master. Please.”
A death god was begging me to be careful?
Just how dangerous was Voss?